Destinee

I saw a familiar face while I was bagging my groceries at the market today. She looked to be close to my age and had two girls with her that looked to be about my boys' ages. We started chatting and thought the connection was that we had both worked out in Yacolt but it turns out we were there at different times. Finally, she asked me what my name was and and it clicked, for one of us anyway.  One of the girls said, "You were my kindergarten teacher." My mind was blank.  I didn't recognize her at ALL!  Embarrassingly, I had to ask her what her name was. "Destinee," she said and as soon as she said it, it all came flooding back to me. She was in my very first kindergarten class. I remember how intelligent Destinee was. I remember that she was one of my most capable students. I remember the day she figured out that between her first, middle, and last names there were 26 letters.  I can still see the twinkle in her eye when she ran up to me with her full name printed out with each letter counted.  The smallest things bring so much happiness to 5 year olds.  I remember that in March of her kindergarten school year, her dad had his long-awaited kidney transplant and I remember that the next year, when her brother was in my class her dad had to go to rehab to fight an addiction to the painkillers that had sustained him for so long.  She was tall and gangly when she was in my class but now she is just stunning. I felt embarrassed that I didn't immediately recognize her and I covered my eyes when I learned that she is now a 7th grader.  Wasn't it just the other day...

As I walked to my car, I felt the embarrassment of not recognizing such an important figure in my life.  I wanted to push my cart back into the store and tell that little girl what a difference she had made in my career, in my life. I had been so afraid to switch grades and begin teaching kindergarten but when I got there and witnessed the amazing growth my little charges could make in one school year all of my doubts were erased.  It was your curious mind, willing heart, and excitement for life and learning that hooked me as a kindergarten teacher.  It was then, in my 12th year of teaching, that I had found my true calling.  That is when I had met Destinee and my life was changed forever.

Love is Love

 Valentine's Day in Mrs. Ortner's room is an exciting time. We started by reading Valentine Bears by the amazing Jan Brett. We cut out hearts and wrote I love sentences both simple and complex (a 1st grade standard). We learned a sign language song called L-O-V-E Spells Love.  For math, we used the candy hearts with messages written on them to sort by color, create a graph and then use the information from the graph to tell about our candies.  You must hold off on eating any of the candy hearts because it will skew your data, a concept mostly lost on my little charges.  But if they can hold off they will be able to eat all of the candy once their graph is complete.  Not an easy feat! Finally the day ends with a party complete with the passing out of valentines, eating treats both sweet and healthy, parent volunteers, and most importantly, squeals and giggles.  It is such a fun day to celebrate love.  The kind of love that is pure in the 6 year old heart that will hold the hand of their classmate just because they have a plan to play together at recess.  The kind of love for yourself that comes from being able to read your own valentines for the first time ever.  The kind of love that as a teacher I hold for my precious charges whose faces light up as they read each valentine. The kind of love that every childhood should be filled with because that is how they were designed, how we are all designed, to give and receive pure love freely.  It is never so abundant as it is on February 14th in room 105.

The Gem

I've been experiencing technical difficulties and a lack of patience to figure them out.  I'm ready to try again so here goes...

We started the snowman project yesterday.  I remember doing this when I was a kid.  It was the only kind of art I was ever good at; wrap tissue paper around the end of a pencil, dip it into glue, stick it on the paper.  I'm not sure it even qualifies as art. But I brought the project to my students and they enjoyed it. Some students took great time and care in creating a pattern or plan for their art.  Others just wrinkled tissue paper, dipped it in glue, and stuck it on their template.  Once everyone was finished, I called my little charges to the carpet area.  I had them write a description of the snowman they created with enough detail that someone could find theirs in a crowd of snowmen. A first grade writing standard is to write more than one sentence about the same topic.  Another standard is to use descriptive words to explain ideas.  I thought I could knock out 2 birds with one stone. Some students came back with sentences about the colors of tissue paper they used and where it was placed on their template. Some came back with sentences about what they like to do with their snowman. Hmmmm...After talking with several such writers, I determined that their lack of detail was not with the words they chose but within the eye that was looking at their art. They came back from recess to find their snowmen in the center of the floor and someone else's writing at their table spot.  As we sat in a circle around our grand creations the goal was to pick out the snowman that was described in the writing. Most were able to do it. As the writing and the snowmen were linked together I noticed that the randomly decorated snowmen were the same that the writers had trouble describing.  I think it is so interesting that the same students who haphazardly threw together their snowman also struggled to find precise words to describe it.  How do I teach a 6 year old to have a discerning eye?  Better yet, how do I teach a 6 year old to have a discerning mind? Come to think of it, it's not unlike blogging. How do I sift through the details of my ideas and find the gem to polish on this page?

Almost Lost

I didn't know until half way through our first day back. Raelyn's appendix had burst during the break and she had spent a week in the hospital.  It's a miracle she's alive.  I can't explain what it feels like to almost lose a student. I have lost them to a move, to a divorce, and heart-wrenchingly to a foster home. I can't tell you how thankful I am to have not lost Raelyn. She spent a week in the hospital including Christmas Day.  I asked if Santa found her in the hospital and she said he had.  Thank goodness! She told me about how her parents took turns sleeping with her in the hospital bed and one night even both of them had stayed with her.  The fear they must have felt, I can only imagine. You can see the toll this ordeal took on her little frame.  She's only coming to school in the mornings this week. I miss her.  We all miss her. Raelyn is a bright light in our classroom; sweet and demur, shy yet intentional. Yesterday she wrote about her hospital stay during Writers Workshop:

*Dpendix is so much cuter than appendix and I just love her picture of the bed going up and down!

Translation: I went to the hospital. I got my appendix out. I don't like the hospital. I pushed the buttons to make the bed go up and down. (later today she added, It was a little fun.)

When I talked to the class about what happened to Raelyn and how we would need to help her and look out for her for a while we talked about how the doctors helped save Raelyn.  I told them that those brilliant doctors were once six year old first graders learning to read and write, that some of them had even struggled with math and gone to the principal just like them. But because they had worked hard and stayed in school, they became great, life-saving heroes.  I asked my little charges if they thought they could grow up to be a hero someday. Every single hand went up.  Here's to hoping!

Making 10

Today we worked on addition strategies.  One in particular; making 10. I would never have thought to teach such an advanced concept to 6 year olds but this is what the District's new math adoption says to do.  So, the idea is to teach the kids to make 10 from the two addends in order to make adding them together easier.  For example, 9+6 becomes 10+5.  I was stumped when I looked at the student pages (also known as workshits by renowned brain researcher Dr. Mary Howard).  How can I teach this concept to six year olds that are still struggling to understand what 10 is? But I went after it regardless because that is the next lesson in the book.  I don't teach like this!  Why am I teaching like this?  I am least confident in my ability to teach math. I am most easily led by a mathematics teacher's manual.  I once knew our state math standards inside and out but that was when I still taught kindergarten. Two years ago, I left what I feel is my true calling, teaching kindergarten, to teach 1st grade.  The idea was to reduce my workload and therefore my stress and free myself up to spend time with my family.  There is less prep work but there is new stress in that I am not as familiar with the 1st grade learning standards.  Of course, I'm making the transition to the literacy standards comfortably.  But math is a different story. How can I help my students gain these learning standards when I can't master them myself? I decided to take it slowly and think about what I know about how six year olds learn.  They have to see it and feel it if they are going to have a chance to understand it. I made ten-frames and passed out counting cubes.  I made up addition stories using my students' names (they are always more interested when they think it is all about them) and had them place 9 cubes on the ten-frame.  Then, continuing the story, had them add 6 more counting cubes to the ten-frame and the leftovers below it.  I asked them to tell me how many cubes were in the ten-frame: "10," and then asked how many cubes were outside of the ten-frame: "5".  That's how we turned 9+6 into 10+5.  They used the manipulatives throughout the lesson and most were able to complete their work with very little help. Will they be able to recreate this scenario and use it effectively to solve addition problems?  A few of them will.  Maybe when they see this concept again in 1st grade and again in 2nd grade and each grade beyond, it will resonate somewhere in their young minds.  More than likely they will develop their own strategy to solve addition problems.  Hopefully, what they learn the most is that they can solve problems with a little help from Mrs. Ortner.

Welcome Back!

Days like today are the reason I teach and at the same time the reason I find my job so taxing.  I love my job. I love hearing the exciting stories of what Santa left under the tree. I love teaching my charges new and exciting things; to read, to write, to add and subtract. The essentials!  But today was our first day back after a 2 week winter break. Many people think we choose to go into teaching for the long breaks in our work year but this is the part of my job I find most difficult; the stopping and the starting.  It feels like as soon as we get on a roll, it's time to stop again. Don't get me wrong, I love the opportunity the breaks give me to catch up on my sleep and projects around the house but I love my routines, too.  Morning work: Writers Workshop. After lunch: Read Aloud. After recess: Snack and a Story.  I miss my students when we are not at school and I miss the challenges I face at Daybreak Primary school.  I am supposed to re-charge and re-energize myself during these breaks but instead I find myself winding down simply to wind myself right back up again to start anew.  Or on a break like this one, my time is simply filled with a different kind of work; caring for Grandma Evie, welcoming my darling nieces who were born on the 29th, witnessing the decline of my mother-in-law into the abyss of Alzheimer's. I think I'm better at my day job of teaching first graders than I am at my job of running this house and nurturing these boys. I belong in room 105 and that's where I will be for the next 59 school days until...Spring Break.

Hallmark

Sometimes it drives me crazy that on top of making sure my little charges reach benchmark academically, for some reason I am expected to provide them with gift making opportunities.  Thus the Hallmark title.  Grump grump! I'm about $60 into our gingerbread houses (no graham crackers here!), Christmas tree magnets, Shrinky Dinks (I still have mine Alli from our kindergarten year!), beaded candy canes, and Polar Express Santa bells, but I don't really care.  Now that I'm into the week and I hear the little squeals and see the grins that come along with making Mom's present it's worth every penny, every minute standing over the oven baking, every bit of glue from the magnets I peel off of my fingers.  Look how cute they turned out!  Abby asked me today if my job is fun.  What do you think?

Stressed!

Ashlyn captured how I feel this week-before-break- report-cards-due-gingerbread-house-making week!  It was sharing time last Thursday and Ashlyn was sharing one of her beloved 21 stuffed animal ducks.  As she told the kids all the things she likes to do with her duckie, she posed him like this and said, "STRESSED!" It was really funny but what made her say such a thing? What do first graders know about stress? My guess is they know that their mom's aren't quite as patient these days of advent.  They know that when they go to the store with Dad there are a lot more people moving a lot faster than they usually do.  They probably know that their teacher is talking way too fast and taking more "teacher time-outs" than she usually does.  So this week we are going to all just slow down a bit and enjoy the season.  After all, they only get one week-before-Christmas-Break as a first grader.  I plan to make the most of it for them! Bring. It.On.

That Time of Year



our still life subject

It's the end of the calendar year but the school year has not quite hit mid-stride.  September is all about new routines.  October is assessment and conferences.  November is when I hit the academics with gusto.  Then comes December...

Me: Sentences end with a period.

First graders: Santa is coming!

Me: Subtraction means you take things away.

First graders: Santa and Rudolph are coming!

Me: New plants have five parts: seed, root, stem, leaf, flower.

First graders: We got our Christmas tree last night!

Me: A tree is like a plant.  One of the symbols of Christmas is the poinsettia plant.

First graders: I see the leaves on the poinsettia plant... and Santa is coming.  He's bringing me presents!

sketches outlined with black crayon

wax resist paintings

the finished product

Me: Let's get out the paints...

Sanctuary

I've been running since my senior year of college; 20+ years.  Running has been my greatest friend, my worst enemy, my task master, and my sanctuary.  My favorite time to run is early in the morning, before anyone else in the house is even considering waking up.  I gear up; including my head lamp, reflective vest, and pepper-spray, and run just under 4 miles during the week. On my solo runs, with music from my iPod blaring in my ears, I get some of my best thinking done. During those 40 minutes, my mind becomes my sanctuary. I figure out how to help students overcome their latest struggle, how to fit one more standard into my lesson, what to cook for dinner, what to say in a conversation I'm worried about having with Tom.  As the cool air brushes my cheeks and my breathing falls into a rhythm my mind is sparked with creativity solving all the problems of the world! At least that's what it feels like.  I haven't been able to run for 4 months due to a major surgery I had in August. My body can't handle the jarring of a run.  I've been walking but it's not the same.  This week I started swimming.  I swim efficiently enough for it to be exercise. The pool at the gym has become my sanctuary as I raise my arm, turn my head and kick, propelling myself across the pool.  There's a rhythm to it just like running. Stroke, stroke, stroke...breathe.  Stroke, stroke, stroke...breathe.  The water surrounds me like a cocoon, suspending my body while I glide through the lane.  It's not the same as running but I'm liking it more and more.  I find myself looking forward to it and plotting my activities for the week around my trips to the gym.  I am so thankful for the opportunity to exercise again.  It feeds my soul.  There's no music blaring in my ears and somehow my mind can only focus on the act of swimming instead of the effortlessness that running has become to me. All I can hear is the air I force out of my nose and the giant gasp as I turn my head and take in air after that third stroke.  Breathing in and breathing out.  I guess it's like running just without the world-saving ideas. I think I'm too busy (one) making sure I don't lose count (two) of my strokes (three) until I take that (gasp) breath.

Oh Fudge!

This has been a stressful week for me.  One that caused me to say to my student teacher, "Run! Run away to another major.  This job is SO hard!"  Behavior troubles with multiple students that flow over into troubles with other student's families who voice their concern for their first grader that's being bullied in my classroom.  How did that happen on my watch? Standards based reporting pilot, iPad grant, assessments for report cards that are due NEXT WEEK...my sad song could play on and on.  But that is not what I want to say.  That is not where I want to go.  That is not who I want to be.  I need to take the time to reflect on my day like this even when I feel like there is no time.  Stopping for just the few minutes it takes to write gives me the opportunity to glance back at my day and think of all the good that has been infused along the way.  Emily and David moved up a reading level. Gracelyn successfully used her counting cubes to solve a subtraction problem. Ashlyn, Spencer, Madie, and Raelyn practiced their Little Red Hen reader's theater parts with gusto and a pig-like voice reciting, "Not I! Said the pig."  Ella's mom sent in some homemade fudge wrapped in a simple red bow. Isabella ran back in after music class and after the bell just to give me a hug and say, "I love you, Mrs. Ortner!" What was it that had me in such a dither?  With a list like this, I'll be back tomorrow.  And so will Miss Click!

A True Home

Mt. Hood on the Oregon side of the Columbia River.

Looking to the Washington side of the
 Columbia on our trip home from the coast.

This is where I live, the Pacific Northwest;  marked by the Cascade mountain range, sliced by the Columbia River.  I didn't grow up here. No, I'm an L.A. girl, and Alli is, too.  I think we consider where we went to high school to be "home" but she lived with me in the San Gabriel Valley longer than she lived in Chicago. After college and a short mission trip to Russia, I came up to visit a friend and put the final touches on her impending wedding.  During my visit the engagement broke and I decided to come live with my college roommate in Washington State.  I thought I would live here for 2 years and then head north to Seattle, a city more befitting my style.  Boy was I wrong!  My first teaching job, finding the keeper of my heart and soul, two beautiful boys, and 18 years later I am still right here in Southwest Washington. I love the cool, crisp air.  I love that the temperatures are so mild the majority of the time that I can walk out my front door and go for a run.  I complain about the rain every February only to reap it's benefits in a beautiful, green spring and summer.  When people ask me how I ended up here I am always a bit befuddled.  It's a convoluted story of looking for the wide open spaces of geography but also to stretch the wide open spaces of my youthful heart.  I will be independent!  Tom says the real reason I came here was to find him. It's sweet every time he says it when he thinks I'm not listening.  How else do you explain finding your soulmate at Yacolt Primary School?  The trip from Southern California, my first home, to Washington State, my true home is much longer than the 1,100 miles would make it seem.

This is the view from the balcony off our room. The darker
 blue between the trees is the Pacific Ocean.

The chairs we would have sat in to enjoy the rare sunshine
 on the coast of Oregon if it hadn't been below freezing!

Balance

I, like many other women across the world, have two full time jobs.  I am, as you know, Mrs. Ortner - first grade teacher.  But what you might not know, and what I often forget myself, is that I have another full time job, Deb - wife, mother and friend. During the school year so much of my time, thoughts, and efforts go into running my classroom.  As my boys have gotten older, they need my time and devotion in different ways, more consuming ways. Like to drive them 10 miles to their basketball practice, spend an entire weekend at a baseball tournament 30 miles from our house that awaits upkeep and repair, or working endless hours in a concession stand selling food to people that I would sooner die than put in my own body to raise money for the team.  All this needs to be done while I'm cooking dinner (mostly done in a crock pot before I leave for work in the morning), chasing the dog off of the couch, reviewing student work, completing knitting projects, attempting home decorating projects, and hopefully having a conversation with my husband.  My evenings and weekends are just a different kind of work and I love this job just as much as I love being a teacher, even more so. I would not change one thing about my life.  I love shuttling my kids around and watching them grow. But I think my most important job falls to the wayside more often than it should; being Tom's wife. Our relationship is the foundation our family rests upon. It needs my full time attention as do all the rest of the things mentioned above.  How do I find the balance I need to do all of my jobs well?  It doesn't always go smoothly nor as planned but I think I'm getting the important parts right. I married the most amazing man.  This weekend, on a stolen get-away, he recited the words to a song being played in the background at dinner "you're my pride and joy" as he looked at me.  I was done. My heart melted as did all thoughts of assessments, dinner, and practice.  I found my balance. Upon my rock.

Tom, keeper of my heart and soul

Dear Me

"Dear Me, Alexa  Rumimbr to bring your Snak owase at school. bekos they..."

Ok, I'll translate:

"Dear Me, Alexa

Remember to bring your snack always at school. Because they..."

Alexa was upset about not having any snack this afternoon.  When I couldn't seem to get her past it I suggested she write a note to help remind her mom to pack her a snack. There's really only one part of this note that Alexa wrote to herself today that matters; Dear Me, Alexa.  Alexa is a 7 year girl with an amazing sense of self that is not typical in someone her age.  Most of my little charges expect perfection of themselves and have no room for errors. I tell them, "The only thing you're perfect at is being you!" and they look at me like a little puppy with their heads tilted to the side. I tell them, "Don't worry, you're not supposed to know that yet." and they slowly nod their heads thinking ya, right. I tell them, "That is what first grade is for; to learn to read." and they pout because they can't sound out the word 'are' (who can?). There is so much pressure to achieve but none more than the pressure they put upon themselves.  Alexa has these same unrealistic expectations, even higher at times. But she has a quality about her that will serve her well beyond the first grade.  She knows how to like herself.  Even though she is hard on herself at times she also recognizes the infinite amount of good she possesses. Alexa is a wonderful little girl with a creative mind and artistic flair.  She answers every question I ask, loudly.  She sings every song, loudly and off key. She pouts when it's time to clean up.  And she writes, "I like me sooooo much." in her writers workshop journal.  She came to me this way. I pray she leaves the same way or maybe even with a little bit more.

Sweet Grace

A late addition to my classroom this year came in a pint size package. Gracelyn joined our class about 2 weeks into the school year. She already had several friends from kindergarten and a soccer team she plays on. She fit right in. She was an immediate attraction for all the kids; someone new to sit by, someone new to work next to, someone new to chase at recess. She sits in the back row in the carpet area where I do all of my instruction.  I have a bird's eye view of sweet Gracelyn and the bundle of energy she brings to our group. She's probably the smallest first grader in the school but she is never looked over, she makes sure of that! Gracie is excited about life and she shows it.  When I tell the kids to get ready for the simplest of activities, say lunch, she tenses all of her muscles, puts her fists high in the air and squeezes.  The best part is when she brings her arms down and she throws in a few snaps: snap, snap, snap snap! Because this little girl loves life, I get to see the squeezes and snaps several times a day. Lucky me!  I smile every time.  I've started to watch for it; to watch for Gracelyn's snap of approval.  At an all school assembly recently she got caught up in the music and joined in.  Of course, she added a few of her signature moves.  I chuckle every time I think about it, still.  Sometimes I need to borrow Gracie's excitement for the little things that happen in our classroom.  I'm so glad she came with enough to share.

Veteran's Day

Every year our school (mostly the work of our music teacher) puts together a Veteran's Day assembly that cannot be surpassed.  It's not that there are grand speeches or ornate musical performances that make it so wonderful, it's the close feeling of community that permeates the room that makes it so special. It starts at the door as the community members, school children, and invited guests file into the cafeteria with hand-made cards thanking our veterans for their service taped to the walls. The whole school dresses in red, white, and blue for the day. There's not a dry

eye in the house when our principal invites any Veterans in the audience to come up and receive a gift from the children of our school.  There were 28 this year including a teacher and a teacher's aide from our school.  Korean War veterans, Vietnam veterans, Gulf War veterans and some currently serving.  My heart swells with appreciation and respect every year as they walk past my class knowing the horrors they've seen so I didn't have to, the families that waited behind while they served in countries far away, and the slight grin that creeps upon their lips as they hear the thunderous applause of 500 school children, their parents and other community members. I don't know any of what they have experienced and yet my heart still breaks thinking of what they've done for me.  Each Veteran is handed a flower by a student and gets a firm hand shake from our principal.  They pass the microphone and tell where and how they served. And then the crowd erupts again as they walk back into the audience to assume their seats while 5, 6, and 7 year olds try to figure out how to give a standing ovation (surprisingly difficult for my little charges). The music is the sweetest sound of children's voices singing familiar tunes that you may have grown up with in school: You're A Grand Old Flag, My Country Tis' of Thee, and others. We all join in. This year the 3rd grade classes sang a collection of patriotic songs including 3 anthems from the branches of our military. While they sang the anthem for the Marines I saw a white-haired gentleman standing, mostly stooped over from age, leaning on a walking stick but out of his seat none the less to honor his branch of service.  I wanted to stand with him, so he wasn't alone, but knew only he had earned the right to stand during that song. I don't think you have to be an American to be proud of those who put themselves in harm's way on our behalf. Selflessness is a trait we should recognize more often than every November 11th.

Learning to...post what's important

Man, that last post was a hard one for me.  I felt like it was important to tell why I hadn't been able to post: I have been hampered by technical difficulties.  It's an interesting story.  But while reviewing my post, I began to wonder what was taking center stage: the story of our painted pumpkins or my technology woes?  They both seem important but for different reasons.  The computer problems are frustrating, time consuming and I suspect, universal.  The activity of painting pumpkins and sweet Ruth asking me with eyes filled with tears if she had to paint her pumpkin is more compelling.  The thing is, I want to be the person with the compelling stories but often find myself as the person chasing my tail in the universe of ordinary.

Little Dark Cloud



Our painted pumpkin patch

Even with paint, they make Jack-o-Lanterns



Except for Ruth, who couldn't stand the
 thought of painting her very first pumpkin.



I haven't been able to post much lately because we have been experiencing technical difficulties. When our first computer's hard drive died I just thought it was probably time since we'd had the computer for 5 years. After several hundred dollars and a new computer tower later, we determined that our old printer is no longer compatible and needs to be replaced. Next, the power cord receiver on my laptop broke off inside the computer. It can work but doesn't because it can't be powered. When I returned from Best Buy after finding out my warranty on the laptop expired in September (UGH!), our router stopped working. True story! By this time I could clearly see the dark cloud following me. You know, like Charlie Brown. Anyway, we have a new desktop computer, a new router/modem combo, and me - rebuilding the football season slideshow I have spent HOURS creating on my laptop but that cannot be retrieved in time for the end of season party. ARGH! We also have days of photos downloaded but not blogged because I haven't had the time nor the energy to do so with all the time I have put in to fixing our technology problems. So here are some pics and captioned details.

When a student from another class saw our
 painted pumpkins he asked,
 "Why did you paint them?" 
 I answered the only way I knew how to,
 "Because we could!"







OUR Pumpkin Patch

After attending the pumpkin patch field trip we were inspired to create our pumpkin patch in room 105.  But of course Mrs. Ortner HAD to make it a learning activity.  Last week we painted the pumpkin to give the kiddos a chance to make that big, sweeping motion with the paintbrush - good for fine motor development.

I put them up in "our pumpkin patch" by the window. Next I talked to the kids about setting; the place where the story happens, what you see in your mental images while reading, all the details you see when you are writing about a story in your head.  After discussing settings, I took the pumpkins out of the pumpkin patch and gave them back to the kids.  I asked them to draw in the setting of the pumpkin patch.  Here is what they came up with:

 

 With a few crayons and some background knowledge this is what my little charges can create!



Notice the detail of the vines





 



Oh and don't forget our science study of New Plants so take notice of the things that plants need to live: soil, roots, stems (the vine), light, and water. I love curriculum integration.  Mostly, I love it when a plan comes together!