On Thursdays, I help with the literacy centers in my 1st grade daughter’s classroom.
I’ve become pretty chummy with the kids and I really look forward to our time together —
there is always some perfect bit of theater unfolding.
I don’t know how teachers absorb all the narratives in their classrooms. I think I would pop.
Today, the kids were tasked with turning the word OCTOBER into a Halloweenyish bit of art — making Os into pumpkins, for example, or the stem of an R into a witch’s broom. (OK, so mine wouldn’t have been the most imaginative version ever…)
I liked this little exercise — it’s sort of preparatory concrete poetry — and it made the kids want to wooooo and booooo while they worked.
But first, each student was asked to write OCTOBER in big ol’ letters — roomie enough to decorate. No problem, right? Wrong. My little buddy N was struggling. He wrote a teeny tiny version of october and then just a slightly less teeny version of october and I could tell that only teeny tiny letters were in our future.
So I said, “Hey, N. How about this. What if I give you dot-to-dots to follow? Think you could make a great, big O?”
He was skeptical, I could tell, but I did my part and he did his. That was one lovely O.
And then we repeated the process for the C.
“What do you think?” I asked. “Can you take it from here?”
I stepped over to the other table to remind a chatty little group of artists to put their names on their papers and when I checked back with N, he’d done it! And guess how? Using my pencil, he’d dot-to-dotted one letter at time and then, using his pencil, he’d re-traced the letter. All the way through the final R.
Don’ t you just find that fascinating, the desire to have something to follow ? It starts so early — toddlers who can’t walk yet suddenly go truckin’ across the room carrying a toy because holding onto something allows them to feel supported. I can think of lots of ways I trick myself into feeling brave or safe enough to move forward. Can you?
1. First off, I misread something about the shape of your letter’s and thought you made the R look like a witch’s bosom. Which, when you think about it, might be do-able. But wrong.
2. I still need things to follow now and again. Maybe that’s why I love working in forms so much when it comes to poetry.
See, now, a witch’s bosom woulda been original. Leave it to you, Kelly. And YES! Form poetry! Exactly…
Liz’s Dot-to-Dot Novel and Picture Book Writing Guide. I want it! 😉
Seriously, this is such a sweet story. I like how you helped him without doing it FOR him. And being ultra-non-graphically talented myself, I wish someone had taught me those tricks so I didn’t cringe at assignments involving posters. My daughter, on the other hand, could out-draw, out-craft, and out-magic marker me at three years old.
Sara Lewis Holmes
Sara, you’re so funny. I’m not much of a poster gal myself. Markers truly humble me…
My answer is that I would have never started blogging without Eisha. And I feel like if she ever stopped blogging at 7-Imp no one would want to read just me(goodness, sounds like I’m putting a lot of pressure on her). I guess I’m saying that, because of my sometimes low blogging self-esteem, which I should just fix, I continue to move forward, feel brave and safe about blogging, because I have a friend to lean on! It’s always easier with a friend, huh?
— Jules, 7-Imp
Right — exactly! And then the irony is that Eisha would probably say the same thing. It’s the good kind of co-dependency!
Your observation is so perfect that I think I’ll go and blog about it!
Mary Lee
Thanks, Mary Lee! And I love hearing the pedagogy (that I didn’t know) surrounding the narrative. Makes me feel like learning is rather an intuitive thing…