Search

Something about Belinda’s brave smile looks familiar to me. The briefest shadow darkens her face while other students banter about the gifts they’ve asked for and the ones they’ve already received. Because she’s outgoing, the other kids don’t recognize the proud face she wears while they talk of skiing, sumptuous meals and overseas travel. Belinda never says a word. She just smiles and listens.

Each spring, at the start of baseball season, fourth-graders at my school connect with Shorty, a character from Ken Mochizuki’s book Baseball Saved Us. Shorty’s a Japanese-American child who plays baseball on a makeshift field in an internment camp during World War II. Mochizuki’s consummate read-aloud story encourages a fired-up discussion in the library. Students talk about the inequities and intolerances foisted on kids and adults alike. It’s the kind of lesson that I thoroughly enjoy teaching, year after year.

"We the people, in order to form a more perfect union..." I heard these words for the first time in a song when I was a kid. I was pouring a glass of orange juice in the kitchen when I heard it. Bugs Bunny had ended. I was waiting for Fat Albert and the Cosby Kids to begin. There was the familiar refrain of Schoolhouse Rock in between those cartoons. "As your body grows bigger, your mind grows flowered, it's great to learn 'cause knowledge is power!" And there it was—the Preamble to the U.S. Constitution (or at least a paraphrase of it) in song. I learned it and never forgot it.

A weekly sampling of articles, blogs and reports relevant to TT educators.

When the news about the tragedy at Sandy Hook Elementary School broke on Friday, we quickly issued some advice for teachers heading back to school on Monday.

One of the simplest ways to foster compassion and understanding in our classrooms is to give students opportunities to share stories about their lives. By communicating and listening, students can break down stereotypes and see each other as real people. This can be done through curriculum-related projects such as personal narrative and poetry or as part of a daily class meeting.

When I announced the annual personal narrative assignment, my students groaned. Every year I get the same response. Most of my students would rather write fantasy or even research papers than compose a story about something real, but the state standard in Oregon requires the narrative.

I was apprehensive about beginning a unit on the concept of home in my high school art class. I’m still getting to know my students and was wary of delving in to such a personal topic without knowing what it might bring up for them. I want a curriculum centered on students’ lives, but also like to have an idea of what to expect.

Jenny started the year desperate to make friends. She was new, immature for her age and starting seventh grade. Because of a learning disability, Jenny was reading and writing at a second-grade level. She tried to hide that from friends. But in the cover-up effort, she often badmouthed her classmates and created drama.