This week in the Tree Swallow classroom...
In Readers' Workshop, we are focusing on interactive reading by making connection to our own lives. Using thought prompts like, "this reminds me of..." and "this makes me think of.." help us deepen comprehension and our experiences with the text. Swallows will practice making connections in their reading response letters, book club journal writing and classroom discussions.
In Writers' Workshop, we are working to add details to create "mind pictures" for our readers.
What might this look like?
The recent snow, both here and while visiting my sister in Washington inspired the following poem. The poem (and undoubtedly, the recent snow and lack of more) conjured this written connection to self.
Snow Ball
In Readers' Workshop, we are focusing on interactive reading by making connection to our own lives. Using thought prompts like, "this reminds me of..." and "this makes me think of.." help us deepen comprehension and our experiences with the text. Swallows will practice making connections in their reading response letters, book club journal writing and classroom discussions.
In Writers' Workshop, we are working to add details to create "mind pictures" for our readers.
What might this look like?
The recent snow, both here and while visiting my sister in Washington inspired the following poem. The poem (and undoubtedly, the recent snow and lack of more) conjured this written connection to self.
Snow Ball
I made myself a snow ball as perfect as could be.
I thought I'd keep it as a pet and let it sleep with me.
I made it some pajamas and a pillow for it's head.
Then, last night it ran away
But first -- it wet the bed.
Shel Silverstein
This poem reminds me of...
When I was a very young girl living in Carson City, Nevada, I decide to capture and keep the first real snowfall of that year (a surprise inch plus) in a Folders coffee can. Just months before, I had (nearly) successfully collected and cared for a pollywog and a caterpillar in the very same can, and I was confident that I could care for and keep this seasonal symbol as well.
I traveled to the deepest portion, a ditch just across the road from my front yard. The snow burned my bare fingers as I worked to free an area that looked untouched by animal or human. I carefully lifted this pristeen semi-circle of frozen water from the ground and placed it lovingly into the coffee can. As I placed the lid on, I exhaled a breath of confident relief- " I had captured the snow. Next.. the world."
Moments before the school bus arrived, I left this treasure at the feet of my dish-washing mother. She had nodded, I think with interest, at my breathless explanation of the can's contents and finally uttered a muddled answer to my request to keep both eyes on the prize (I think it was another word for yes).
By the time school was over, most of the snow on the ground had melted away, revieling the tired grays and browns of the suburban landscape. But I would still have the snow! Wouldn't I?
I shifted restlessly in the bus seat, counting the stops until my house.
The bus's door had not finished opening by the time I was on my porch, bounding through the house into the kitchen where I had last left my glimmering treasure in the care of my mom.
Mom, now in the laundry room, called out to me. "How was your day? Too bad the snow melted."
Her words sent a winter chill down my back. My snow? Melted? Did she mean, my snow?
The Folder's can was in the same spot on the floor I had put it this morning. My steps felt heavy, like trudging through thick snow.
I bent over the can, grasped one corner of the lid and squeezed my eyes shut. Clenching the plastic disk in both hands, I opened one eye, ever so slightly at first, then wider and now both eyes...
"SNOW!" I shouted.
Just then, Mom walked into the kitchen, cocked her head to the side with a disapproving look and said, "I don't know what creature you have in that can this time, Rachel, but get it out of my kitchen before it escapes."
"Humph." I hugged the can close and backed out of the kitchen, giving her my best "you were supposed to take care of it and you did not even look at it once", squinty-eyed glare.
She turned away and, although I did not take note until much later, looked like she was trying to hide the fact that she was smiling widely.
To this day, both snow and my Mom are for me, magical.
In THEME/Storyline: Last week, the Swallows received a "mystery animal" track. Using field guides, each Swallow identified their animal and collected some facts. This week, students will research their animal to find required information and begin creating presentation posters about their animal. This project provides foundation skills and practice for work on the Jackson Bottom Monitoring project.
By the time school was over, most of the snow on the ground had melted away, revieling the tired grays and browns of the suburban landscape. But I would still have the snow! Wouldn't I?
I shifted restlessly in the bus seat, counting the stops until my house.
The bus's door had not finished opening by the time I was on my porch, bounding through the house into the kitchen where I had last left my glimmering treasure in the care of my mom.
Mom, now in the laundry room, called out to me. "How was your day? Too bad the snow melted."
Her words sent a winter chill down my back. My snow? Melted? Did she mean, my snow?
The Folder's can was in the same spot on the floor I had put it this morning. My steps felt heavy, like trudging through thick snow.
I bent over the can, grasped one corner of the lid and squeezed my eyes shut. Clenching the plastic disk in both hands, I opened one eye, ever so slightly at first, then wider and now both eyes...
"SNOW!" I shouted.
Just then, Mom walked into the kitchen, cocked her head to the side with a disapproving look and said, "I don't know what creature you have in that can this time, Rachel, but get it out of my kitchen before it escapes."
"Humph." I hugged the can close and backed out of the kitchen, giving her my best "you were supposed to take care of it and you did not even look at it once", squinty-eyed glare.
She turned away and, although I did not take note until much later, looked like she was trying to hide the fact that she was smiling widely.
To this day, both snow and my Mom are for me, magical.
In THEME/Storyline: Last week, the Swallows received a "mystery animal" track. Using field guides, each Swallow identified their animal and collected some facts. This week, students will research their animal to find required information and begin creating presentation posters about their animal. This project provides foundation skills and practice for work on the Jackson Bottom Monitoring project.
We will begin our winter stewarding citizenship project this week during our Out and About to Nana Cardoon's Garden Farm. Inspired by a reading of Stone Soup, we will work together to create beautifully packaged dry soup mix, make italian crusty breadsticks and create one-of-a-kind mini-book retellings of Stone Soup. We will sell these during the Night of Traditions (December 16th) to raise funds for the Family Resource Center.
Next Thursday, we will visit the UCC to cook a large pot of our own soup mix to freeze for the Family Bridge program.
It is supposed to rain all week. We will visit Nana Cardoon's this Thursday even if it is raining. We have planned our rotations at the farm to be mostly inside the yurt. However, we will be in the elements for the walk there and back (about 15-20 minutes one way). Please send your Swallow with layered clothing, a rain coat and umbrella if possible. If you have an extra umbrella we could use for the trip, I would be so grateful.
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