Learning at the Heart

Yesterday, I wrote about seminal learning experiences as an important part of a teacher’s development.  I went on to name some of the characteristics of the professional learning design at the PEBC Thinking Strategies Institute I attended in the early 2000’s.

Today, I extend beyond naming the activities to describing the impact they had on me and my stance as a teacher.  What I learned changed my mindset and my actions in my own classroom.  In their book, In Search of Deeper Learning:  The Question to Remake The American High School, Jal Mehta and Sarah Fine allude to the idea that effective teachers have “…a different stance, a different way of viewing what they were trying to do…” (page 351).  After attending the Thinking Strategies institute, my stance and my practices changed dramatically.

So, here are 2 ways that the institute impacted me ~ and my students.  Come back tomorrow for 3 more examples.

“52 Learners, 52 Teachers”

The classroom visit I named as a vicarious experience yesterday was to the first grade classroom of the incomparable Debbie Miller.  Her book, Reading with Meaning, had just been published.  In person, it wasn’t exactly as represented in the full-color photos or even the professional learning videos that had been developed.  It was even more vibrant, welcoming, and child-centered than any photo or video could possibly capture.  Actually, the prologue of her book, “It doesn’t get better than this” is the most apt description!

Stepping through her classroom door, we were greeted by large, student decorated letters that read “52 Learners, 52 Teachers”.  It was instantly clear that in this space, everyone had something to learn and everyone had something to offer.  Once the students arrived and settled into their work it was also clear that these words were not just decor, but a way of being.  Each student worked with a sense of purpose and within a community of support.  They could pause, ponder, ask questions, collaborate, and explore ideas with each other.  Debbie was there to guide and support, but so was each child.  No child was in a line or sitting with a hand raised, waiting for the teacher.   

Back in my own first grade classroom, I gave more thought and structure to systems where students would not need to rely on me in order to receive support or solve problems.  One of the most impactful practices we started was  “Would you like think time or would you like coaching?”  In our classroom, we practiced how to deliver the question, how to wait for our partner to think, and how to give clues so as to never, ever “steal” another person’s learning by revealing an answer too soon.  The “learner” had all the time and support he/she needed to arrive at an answer and the “teacher” was pushed to listen authentically and provide appropriate nudges.  These learners and teachers were 6 years old and they were amazing.     

Who Owns the Stapler?

What the question “Would you like think time or would you like coaching” does for thinking and learning, the question “Who owns the stapler” does for classroom environment and space.  I mentioned that in Debbie Miller’s classroom, students worked with purpose and that no child was desperately seeking the teacher’s attention.  Certainly, well designed work was critical to the high levels of student engagement.  So was easy and unrestricted access to materials.  In Debbie’s classroom, students had access to an array of writing materials, books, and supplies.  Turn the page in your notebook too fast so that it tears?  Walk over to the shelf and get a piece of tape.  Write so much that you need to add another page to your booklet?  Walk to paper rack, get another piece, take the stapler and add it to the booklet.  Problem solved.  

Yet, back in my classroom, there was giant teacher desk claiming the real estate near the door.  The only stapler and tape dispenser in the room were housed there.  Need to fix a tear or add a page?  Ask Ms. Beckley.  And if she’s working with another student or group of students, wait your turn.  Well, that was before the PEBC institute.

After the PEBC institute, there were a number of changes to my classroom environment.  Gone was the gigantic teacher desk, the long coatracks that lined the walls and prevented thoughtful furniture placement, and the bulky individual student desks that limited the ability to move around the classroom.  In were tables, each partnered with a small bookshelf.  On the bottom shelf were book boxes where each child had the books they were reading and their notebooks for math, reading, writing, and science.  The middle shelf was home to student supply boxes filled with all the supplies each student would need.  And on the top of every bookshelf was a caddy with a hole punch, extra scissors, a tape dispenser, and…you guessed it… a stapler!  In our classroom, we were learners, we were teachers, and we were problem solvers.  We had everything we needed right where we could reach it, when we needed it, on our own.

The school where I work now uses the Montessori method with our youngest learners.  I didn’t have the language for it then, but in my own way, I created the “prepared environment” and my students’ were better for it.  They had agency and control over their space as well as their thinking. 

I don’t know how seminal these vignettes come across to you, the reader.  As the person who experienced them, though, they help me reflect on those years in the early 2000s with gratitude and fondness.  And they just scratch the surface.  My next post will continue with a handful of additional stories about what I learned at the PEBC and the lasting impact of the experience.