Turtles, Sharks and Owls

Are you are a Turtle, a Shark, a Teddy Bear, a Fox or an Owl when it comes to dealing with conflict?  I was at a course the other day where these conflict types were discussed and I found it a really interesting concept (you can read another post about the other things I learnt here).  I learnt a lot about conflict, the types of ways people deal with it and how to help students to learn to work through it in a positive way.  All good stuff.

The animals associated with how people instinctively deal with conflict:

Turtle - quiet, retreats from conflict by withdrawing and refusing to talk about the issue.  The turtle avoids conflict at all costs.  They tend to stay away from conflict and avoid the people they have conflicts with.

Shark - aggressive, 'my way or the highway'.  Sharks do not shy away from conflict.  Instead they try to force their opinion or way onto the person they are in conflict with.  They are determined to 'win' and like to compete.

Teddy Bear - does what is expected of them to avoid conflict.  They accommodate and make sacrifices to keep harmony.  A Teddy Bear tries to smooth things over and will put others before themselves in an attempt to preserve their relationships.

Fox - makes compromises, negotiates.  They give a little to get a little.  They are willing to sacrifice and maintain balance for the greater good.  Foxes do not avoid conflict but also don't seek to fully resolve the issue to the satisfaction of both parties.

Owl - comes to solutions that suit both parties, reasons, remains calm.  Owls are collaborative and place great value on goals and relationships.  They like to problem solve and work through a conflict fully to make sure that all parties are satisfied with the outcome.

The point of discussing the conflict types at the course wasn't to decide on which way of dealing with conflict was 'better' but more to allow people to realise the positives and negatives of the way that they operate in a situation where conflict in involved.  Depending on the situation, a person who has developed good conflict management skills may choose to behave in any of the conflict styles to get the outcome that is desired.

As a side note for those of you who read my Maker Time post, Miss Four was looking at her 'cake' earlier and as she was rummaging around in it found a M n M chocolate.  I cannot hazard a guess as to how long it was in there for or what it was touching (a dead cicada or lump of gravel perhaps).  It was promptly eaten.  Awesome.

Reference must be made to the Cool Schools Mediation programme where I heard this information, it is however, written in my own words and I do not claim any ownership over the concept.

Like Christmas

You can't see it in the photo but their excitement was plain to see in real life.  Written all over their flushed little faces as boxes were carefully pulled open.  The precious cargo they contained treated as such.  This was a moment we'd been waiting for.  More devices.  The students knew the value in it and it showed today.

Last year my colleague and I embarked on a new journey for our school...  Google Apps for Education (GAFE) and Hapara.  Amazing tools.  We had 12 iPads, six desktops (not in the classroom) and 50 students.  We needed to be creative.  For a start the purpose for us in using GAFE was as a literacy tool, a place to record and share our learning with our peers.  To collaborate and communicate over our learning each day.  We quickly found out the iPads, though incredibly wonderful, were not the best tool for our purpose.  We needed keyboards, anyone using technology to enhance literacy does I believe.  A little research later and my new best friend was found... the Chromebook.  We begged our Principal to consider buying us some.  He pondered on this for some time, and lots of cajoling later agreed to let us trial one each to see if they really were as good as we believed them to be.  Soooo excited!  They arrived and I fell in love.  Head over heels with this little masterpiece of technology.  It did exactly what we needed it to do - it ran Chrome.  Beautifully.

The year progressed at speed.  The budget didn't allow for more device purchases so we made do with what we had (never forgetting how much we actually had - more than a lot we knew).  But two Chromebooks between 50 students was tough.  We used the desktops when we could get to the Learning Centre, the iPads where possible (for docs and photos mainly) but mostly it was a torrent of children begging to use our 'Chromies'.  So we adapted our programmes to suit the skills we wanted them to develop, changed the way we did things to maximise learning time and to ensure that even if they didn't have a device in their hand they were still practising what they would be if they did have one.  In their writing books we utilised a comment margin down the left hand side of the page - commenting on their peers and their own work was something we considered a non-negotiable.  They practised it in their books and they practised it online in GAFE.  We developed writing tasks that were stored online on their Google Drive but could be handwritten and a photo uploaded using an iPad, or typed directly onto the document.  

The students thrived.  They flourished with the added motivation of having their work online, able to be shared with their peers, parents and teachers.  They loved the comments, buzzed over finding another teacher or the Principal had read their work online and left a comment.  Beautiful, supportive comments were left for each other, handy hints given and constructive criticism greatfully received.  It was fantastic.  We were so proud.  But we were always left wondering what would happen if we had access to more devices.  How much we could really push them in their learning, what other amazing achievements they could aspire to.  

Then this year rolled around.  10 new Chromebooks arrived by courier.  10 brown boxes were delivered down to our classroom after lunch by the Principal and her helpers.  It was like Christmas.  We had waited a year for this.  More devices!

We spread the boxes between the students and they patiently waited as we slit the ends of the boxes.  The boxes were opened in unison.  So carefully.  Everyone in that room knew the value of what was inside and it wasn't just monetary.  Oh their faces.  How they lit up when the Chromebooks were revealed from the packaging.  I raced around taking photos, smiling as the excitement bubbled around the room.  

Having worked with 1:25 ratios last year and to now have almost 1:4 - it's incredible.  I am so excited at the possibilities.  They students are abuzz with knowing that they will have far greater access to their much-loved device.  Using them tomorrow is going to be so much fun!

So instead of two best friends I now have 12.  I have to share them with 50 other small people but that's ok.  We shared with far less last year.  The possibilities are endless now.

Sit Still And Listen

 I often think about being a student.  Not a student of today's generation in today's primary school classrooms but about being an adult student in a University.  Learning and growing.  Upskilling and banking more knowledge.  My vision of being a student is somewhat clouded by time, by the distance since I actually sat day after day in a learning environment.  It seems like a pleasant way to spend my days, a somewhat comical dream of an educational utopia.  And then today happened.  Days like this one come along ever so often to remind me that my vision may most likely not be my reality should I endeavour to pursue this dream.

Today I sat as a student in a course for just over 6.5 hours.  Don't get me wrong, it was a very worthwhile and interesting course.  I learnt a lot.  Came away with fresh ideas and a plan of attack for moving forward with the new knowledge and skills I gained.  But I sat.  Pretty still, for nearly 6.5 hours.  The course had some interactive times, and lots of opportunity for discussion and sharing.  But mostly I sat and listened.  At first the novelty of not being the one with the plan of how the day was to proceed was kind of nice.  I was the passenger in the car on a journey that I knew the sort-of-whereabouts of the destination but not the stops and sights along the way.  It was nice... for a while.

I felt myself becoming more distracted as the day went on.  The content was still interesting.  The presenter was great, very enthusiastic and exuberant.  The air conditioning was on... sometimes.  When it wasn't I fidgeted, looked around for some fresh source of air.  People started yawning.  I yawned too and the presenter saw me.  I felt bad.  I know how it feels when you think that someone might be getting tired and bored of what you are saying.  Students are less obvious in their disguise of this emotional state.  I drank water, took a toilet break.  Tried not to check how much time was left until a break.  Two 20 minute breaks all day.  It wasn't enough.

Like I said, it wasn't that the course wasn't a good course.  It was.  It wasn't that the presenter was boring or dull.  She wasn't.  It was the sitting.  The time spent passively listening.  It made me tired and my brain slowly became more and more sluggish.

The lady next to me confided that she was feeling tired, bored, fidgety.  I leaned close and said oh our poor students.  How often do we expect them to sit still and listen?  To participate when we ask them to?  To not fidget or become distracted?  To deal with the heat or coolness of the classroom without having control of the temperature?  I made a mistake and didn't hear an instruction to use a certain pair of colours for a task about grouping.  I had to re-do the offending slips in the correct colour.  It didn't seem like a big deal.  But I sucked it up.  How often do our students feel like this?  That what they have been asked to re-do isn't a big deal?  That the task was done... what's the problem?

Lessons like this a very much needed for teachers.  I need them.  They make me a better teacher.  More tuned in to how my students are feeling.  To the struggles they go through to sit through lessons, where I know the importance of the process or task... but they might not.

Timely indeed.

As we try to cram more and more into our school days, covering our curriculum requirements we sometimes run into morning tea... lunchtime...  Not a big deal right?  Wrong I found myself feeling today.  My lunchtime was later than I'd been led to believe.  I was hungry and in need of a break.  Those few minutes of time that 'didn't matter' because we were still learning... mattered.  To me.  How much do they matter to our students?  I wonder if they look at the clock, sigh inwardly (or outwardly!).

Today's lessons were so important.  I got the course information and the drive to bring a new programme to fruition in our school.  But it was so much more than this that I walked away with.  I will be approaching the week differently on Monday.  Planning for more interaction.  More student input.  Having break time, even short impromptu ones, more regularly.  Access to water.  Fresh air.  Lots of discussion time.  Choice over activities and topics as much as possible.  Less covered, but what is covered, covered better.  Food.  Stretching.

I know the students are going to appreciate it.  I think I will too.

Maker Time Love

Maker Time.  Maker Space.  A year ago I hadn't even heard of it.  A colleague mentioned it one day and I distinctly remember having absolutely no idea of what he was talking about.  I actually thought he may have been making it up.  Wow.  The difference a year makes.  Maker Time is awesome!  I actually think I prefer Genius Hour or Squidwrench (haha it's an actual name!), but the name does not matter.

For years now our Junior School classes have been doing Maker Time under the disguise of 'Developmental'.  A designated hour on a Friday where the students are let loose out on the courts or in the sandpit and are immersed in free play and creative pursuits.  The kids love it.  There are sword fights with pieces of wood, towers built of interlocking pieces, hammers and nails (with very few sore thumbs I might add - interesting the skill of children when you actually let them go with it).  There are mazes built with long plastic rods and a lot of splashing and excitement around the water table.  It's beautiful to watch.  Then something used to happen at our school.  The child moves into Year Four.  Senior School.  Suddenly 'Developmental' is no longer allowed, not in that form anyway.  Far too old apparently for creative play and time to discover.  Hmmmmmm.

Enter our discovery with Maker Time.  We started small, it's still small actually.  Lego.  Glue guns and cardboard.  Paint.  Basic coding using Scratch Junior.  Brain Box.  Enviro.  The students love it.  Suddenly there is a time set aside for them to be a kid.  With stuff to play with even!  In my latest Syndicate newsletter I have asked for stuff to take apart - old telephones, computers; and old lego or anything else they might have lying around - wool, construction materials.  It doesn't have to cost the Earth.  The students are going to be in Heaven.

I saw a really cute tweet the other day - a photo of Mr Potato Head.  It said something like 'who says Maker Time has to be complicated?'.  And it got me thinking about Miss Four, the queen of Maker Space at my house.  Creating and manipulating things comes so naturally at that age.  She will spend hours and hours patiently cutting up magazines or old cards into tiny little pieces for her 'cake'.  This cake is amazing.  You should see it (actually you will, I'll upload a pic of a cake in progress at the end of this post)!  Nestled amongst the thousands of shards of coloured confetti are flowers, grass, rocks, sand, the odd dead beetle, perhaps some spider web carefully gathered.  The cake is lovingly stirred, and added to over days.  Usually until Miss Two discovers the colourful creation and dumps it out onto the grass (enter hysteria... both of them).  Now if that isn't Maker Time I don't know what is.  

That's the beautiful thing about Maker Time.  Children have such fantastic imaginations that they see beauty and creation in everything around them.  You don't need to fork out hundreds of dollars for the latest in tech equipment or more highly priced blocks.  Wood, a few nails, some cardboard, blocks, bricks, paper, old equipment that they are allowed to take apart, glue guns, glitter and paste (if you dare, that stuff gets everywhere!), some trees and planks of wood...  the list is endless and it can be ridiculously inexpensive if you can be creative with your thinking.  

If we asked our students to choose their favourite time of the week?  Maker Time.  Without.  A.  Doubt.  Don't we owe it to our kids to give them an education that is exciting and that nurtures their already-present creative skills?  Maker Time.  Let them be kids.  The learning that falls out of their passions is worth more than any textbook can teach them.

And now for the splendid cake-in-progress...  Isn't it beautiful?

It's About The Bond

Relationships.  The state of being connected to another person.  A bond formed between two people.

Being connected is the cornerstone in education.  I believe that the special bond that exists between teacher and student is the most important thing.  Building and maintaining a trusting relationship with your students makes all the difference in their engagement, motivation and successes at school.

Often as primary teachers we teach a student for a year or two, depending on the size of the school.  We see them for six or seven hours, five days a week, for 40 weeks (perhaps times two).  The relationship that is established, or not established, in that time is critical.

A warm and loving relationship between student and teacher (and I make no apology for using the word loving here) ensures that the student is able to take risks with their learning, and has a soft place to fall when they fail.  They are able to become more confident learners because they know that there is someone behind them who has their best interests at heart and who fully believes that they can achieve anything.

I had two beautiful experiences today that really demonstrated the power of a strong relationship with a student.  The first was as I walked into the garden of a funeral I was attending for the grandmother of one of my students.  As soon as she saw me she flung herself into my arms, nearly bowling me over with the sheer exuberance and relief that I was there.  In that moment I saw how important it was to her that I had come to support her, and how that must have made her feel so loved.  The second was later in the day.  A student who had come to our school at the start of last year wanted to finally introduce my colleague and I to his father, who he doesn't see very often.  I could see the pride glowing in him as we spoke to his father about how wonderful his son was, how his eyes glittered as his father shared his own experiences of noticing what a fantastic sportsman and intelligent boy his son was.  It meant the world to him.

A strong bond ensures that we can give constructive criticism and it is received in a (hopefully!) positive light.  We can set high expectations and they will be strived to be met.  When something goes wrong, as it almost certainly will, we can hold the student accountable and they will know that we are doing it because we truly care about them as a person, and want them to be better.  Those things do not happen if the bond is not there.

These relationships that we build during those 1400 hours each year mean so much to our students.  Having a teacher who truly likes them as an individual, who seeks to understand and 'get' them, who believes in them and puts in the time to craft learning experiences for them personally.... it's priceless.

Positive Playgrounds

Today I set about making a positive change to the playground culture in my school.  It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, or even inventive.  It was stock-standard, run-of-the-mill stuff.  But it will make a difference.

The positive change I made today?  I sat down with our three oldest classrooms of students and taught them all the same rules to a game.  I explained to the students that problems in the playground often boil down to someone thinking that something is not fair and then reacting to that feeling in an angry way.  The person probably doesn't deem it fair because there is a misinterpretation of the rules of the game.  The students nodded in agreement.

Together we discussed the rules, debated a few of the trickier ones, drew diagrams and checked that we all understood what was expected of us when we played this game.  Heading outside the oldest students modelled the game for the younger ones, taking the game slowly, being careful to be honest and to be fair.  We then all jumped onto the field, the mixed age groups working alongside each other in a positive way to practice the game.  And then we actually played it.

You see, not rocket science, not reinventing the wheel.  Just stock-standard, run-of-the-mill stuff.  But it works.

Making positive changes to playground culture starts with the basics.

• Letting the students have a say in creating the rules. 
• Making sure that all students understand how to play the games that are available to them in the playground.
• Discussing ways to deal with each other respectfully when a disagreement arises.  Practising this.
• Meeting regularly with students to talk about playground issues and how to minimise these.  The students know the answers.  They just need a voice.

We don't need to reinvent the wheel, we don't need to have a degree in rocket science.  We just need to do the basics well.  Repeat the steps often.  Keep talking to our kids.  Make that positive change to playground culture.

Adapting Our Practice

Adults are slow learners.  Not all the time but there are definitely moments, as teachers, when we sure are.

In the classroom we often hear teachers figuratively banging their head against the proverbial brick wall when a student cannot grasp a concept or a piece of knowledge that they have told them over and over again.  It's not the child.  They are not the slow learner here.

Adapting our practice is paramount to student success.  Changing the status quo in order to find the missing puzzle piece for a child should be foremost in our teachers' minds as they contemplate why a student isn't achieving success, or what they can do to make a difference to how a student learns.  For teachers this can mean stepping out of their comfort zone, onto some unidentifiable twig thin branch.  Walking a tightrope between what we are used to and the unknown realm of possibility.

How often do we teach as we like to be taught, in ways that we understand, on topics that we find interesting?  Adapting our practice means learning to let go of this.  Stepping into the unknown and out into the uncertain.  Trying new things.  Asking a new set of questions from an endless ocean of answers.  Being brave.

If we are to truly nurture a child to their full potential the go-to proverbial brick wall needs to come down.  Our head banging needs to become head-scratching, solution-searching.  We need to "fail fast, and fix it fast" (a quote I have used in a previous post and still cannot find the rightful owner to give credit to!).  Our teachers need to develop a growth mindset and to continually push forward into the great expanse of that-which-is-not-yet-known to seek pathways that may lead to success for our students.

We ask our students to be brave in their learning.  We need to expect it of our teachers too.

Nurturing Young Minds

Little Miss Four loves to water her vegetable plants.  She takes it very seriously.  A little too seriously sometimes and the plants are awash with water, overflowing onto the warm concrete around her feet.  She talks to the plants.  Exclaims in pure delight when a ripe tomato is spotted.  Shrieks in horror when the Miss Two picks something she isn't supposed to.  Very serious business indeed, this gardening thing.

The love of nature, of nurturing things is inherent in our children.  They are born with the desire to look after things - babies, small animals, plants.  Their not-so-gentle hands not yet mirroring the gentleness of their hearts.

As educators it is our passion to nurture the minds of the next generation of learners.  Nurture them in ways that are not only the requisite Reading, Writing and Mathematics.  We need to grow them as well-rounded individuals meeting their need to be the caretakers of their environment, instilling in them a life-long love of creativity, of individuality, of giving.  A passion to make a difference in their world.  The belief that they are capable of making that difference.

Environmental Education has long been a passion of mine and I love to watch those children with a particular love for their environment really spark and ignite when they are given the freedom to garden, to get their hands dirty, pull weeds and pluck ripe fruit from the vine.  It is priceless.  The look of pure enjoyment by simply being surrounded by nature, being allowed to breathe in the fresh air, soak in the grassy scents and weave magic with their green fingers.  Our children need to experience this on a regular basis.

Children are born with nurturing young minds.  Let us as educators continue to nurture their young minds holistically and help this beautiful world of ours have passionate caretakers in this, and in the following, generations to come.

Excellence - A Habit, Not An Act

Yesterday I cried at school, just a few tears but tears nonetheless.  It was the third day at school.  That must be some kind of record, at least for me anyway.  It was one of those moments that you live for in teaching, when a child has a break through with something that they have been trying to crack for a long time.  In this case - four years.

Every year for four years during the summer months, a student in our school struggled through school swimming lessons.  Right from the start he wasn't sure of the water.  Perhaps terrified would be a more apt word.  Every year for four years his teachers would gently try and encourage him into the water, gradually getting more of his body wet, getting him into the water faster.  Every year his mother would come to us, concerned about her son's water confidence, his lack of water skills.  Wanting desperately for him to be like the other students who splashed and swam effortlessly.  This young boy would spend his time in the shallows, a teacher close at hand, repeatedly trying to put his chin, cheeks, nose under the water... even just letting his face get wet was hard for him.  Last year he progressed to blowing bubbles - a huge accomplishment.  We all celebrated with him, such was the enormity of what that meant for him.

This year started no differently.  A visit from a parent, loving mother, reminding us of her son's fear of water, hoping that he would get more confident again this season.  They'd (mother and son) made a deal - his whole head UNDER the water by the time he leaves our school in two years time.  Such small steps towards the  bravest of goals.

I knelt down beside him as he got into the water, crouching low to get as close to him as possible without getting wet myself.  The hard concrete of the pool's edge biting into my knees.

"You can do it".

"I want to try".

Quiet words between two people with trust joining them tangibly together.  He dipped lower into the water and I measured his attempts on his head, touching him lightly to show him how close he was getting.  Further and further he went down, inching towards this seemingly unattainable goal.  How does one so young demonstrate such perseverance in the face of such overwhelming fear?  I was in awe of him already.  I called over one of my colleagues as the top of his head was just barely visible above the water.  We watched together.  Held our breath.  Cheering him quietly on.

Then suddenly he was under.  Fully under.  For the first time in his life.

Tears.

The moment was so precious.  We jumped.  Cheered.  Celebrated and high-fived.  We showed the other teachers, took a video of his second dunk for his mother, who surely wouldn't believe us - two years early for this achievement.  Who would have thought?

And then his mother walked down the path towards the pool.  I ran.  Grabbed her.  Told her and as she realised what he'd done - tears.  Enormous hugs.  And then she was racing down to the pool to find her son.

I will never forget this.  I think it will live with me for a very long time.

That moment when someone demonstrates excellence.  This child who had repeatedly tried, struggled towards his own excellence had finally achieved it.  Four years.  Incredible.  Four years of a team of people quietly understanding the greater goal of excellence - that is an habit, not an act.  A repeated action towards success.  Four years of patience and perseverance.  Of bravery and encouragement.

And then this.  What a reward.