Sticking to a memory

In my not-so-many years of teaching, one thing a mentor teacher said stuck with me: kids sometimes don't remember what you teach them, but the memory of how they felt, they will take with them.  Even though I lost touch with her over the years, whenever a situation arises that I can decide to have the child remember something about the way I make them feel, I use that to my advantage.  This philosophy is sometimes tricky to stick to, especially at the middle school level.  Their brains seem wired to 'test' authority figures.  How does "tough love" translate into a memory?

One thing my mom used to do when we were younger also stuck.  When she would get mad (rightfully so) at us for something we did wrong, the next memory she would give would be a happy one, whether a softer-toned conversation, a favorite food, an outing, or something of the sort.

At home, the boys are becoming more rambunctious: wrestling, WWE, play-fighting, karate-kicking, etc. These boys' imaginations are growing more and more into the likes of "Street Fighter,"ninjas, toy swords and guns, etc.  While I know this may be 'normal,' I feel like their innocent play is fading.  Conversations are about not hurting people, even in pretend.  These goofy kids are not malicious, but the characters who they're pretending to be may be.

trying to act hard in his own 'selfie'

playing at gramma's house

When they cross a line, counting down and time-outs are routine.  Sometimes our patience wears thin, but the above beliefs comes back to me.  We try to make the distinction between reality and pretend clear, but are their brains ready for that?  And with their growing awareness of "punishment vs. obedience," are they ready to use what we've been teaching them?

Whatever 'punishments' we decide to use, we hope they'll realize that we want them to remember the lesson, and not carry with them the memory of their immediate reaction.  I just want to bottle up this sweet simplicity and bury "boys will be boys."

Letting go

"Don't cry because it's over; smile because it happened." Dr. Seuss

In teaching, one goal is for students to eventually do a task on their own, without the help of a teacher.  Teachers chunk or scaffold lessons so students can grasp things at their own pace.  Then, we should be able (in theory) to let go and have them master a skill by themselves.

Today, we just saw my youngest off to preschool.  This is no where the biggest milestone that we will see, but this is by far, the saddest to me.  Sad because the little boy who, up until a couple months ago, would wake up in the middle of the night to look for me.  Sad because the little boy who makes his family laugh will now be making his teachers and classmates laugh (hopefully at appropriate times).  Sad because the little boy who dances and sings at random times will have to do things on a schedule not his own.  Sad because his wide-eyed innocence will soon face the realities of growing up.

His preschool does strongly encourage pretend-play, and the syllabus even included an interesting article on "Kids Play to Learn." I was pleasantly surprised when the teacher provided many research-based reasons for the classroom set-up, the broken crayons, the choices of toys and curriculum.  Jesse, I'm sure, will be well-prepared for his formal school years.

Although his reputation is already (day 1!) "the comedian," he is not mean, or spiteful, or hateful.  He just has an over-active imagination that makes his personality so unique. His curiosity doesn't stop him from asking questions.  This fun-loving kid is now in a world that has structure, time-frames, boundaries that he may not have realized.

So here we are, at the moment where time does not stand still.  So many parents have said, "It goes by fast," and I am now a witness.  Some parents tell me, "You'll like the next stage," or "Their next phase is better."  But I want to keep the purity that is in a four-year-old brain.  I want him to not grow up in the crazy world full of drama, war, death.  But... I know I have to let go.  Because his independence is one of the ways to bury "boys will be boys."

Balancing attention-grabbers

Teaching has become an acting gig.  We are constantly trying to "entertain" our audiences/students and grab their attention.  I choose to sprinkle the reading and writing with art, movement, music activities, and definitely multimedia.

Knowing what's "in" with current mainstream trends can give more buy-in to a lesson.  When giving context to the term "subplot" to 8th graders, I used the show "Phineas and Ferb."  The main plot of the show is the brothers trying to have the best summer adventure, while the subplot could be Mr. Perry trying to defeat Dr. Doofenshmirtz.

At home, we ensure a balance of activities is available.  Bikes, basketball, baseball, coloring, art, anything in the infamous "toy room," and yes, sometimes, tv, computer games, the Wii.  They are free to come and go at their leisure, as long as they're playing the right way and clean up after they're done.  However, the most repeated activity is... pretend play!  Being different characters allows them to use imagination, creativity, and explore feelings/emotions.

The most elaborate schemes take planning, preparation, props, and participation from the parents.  One summer morning, they wanted to play school.  I was the teacher, Daddy was the bus driver, and the boys were "Lucas"(aka "Lookis," see picture) and "Kai."  Jas, the mastermind behind it all, assembled the numerous "tables" and chairs in the entire downstairs area.  After art time, reading time, and of course, recess, the day was over.  They created their own fun; memories made, dots connected.


Almost every morning, they wake up being someone else.  Even when we visit my grandmother, the first thing she'll ask the boys is, "Who are you today?"  Much credit of the balancing act goes to the boys and their choices, but we try to make sure those opportunities are available, opportunities that foster creativity, imagination, and positive play.  Bury "boys will be boys."