“When we say ‘old friend’, what we really mean is, I know your story and you know mine.” 

~Ralph Fletcher, Writing instructor/Author

In January we hosted a curriculum night for Beginning School parents on the topic, The Power of Story. We enjoyed meeting with many who were able to attend, and hope in this post to both revisit and reach out to those who were not able to make it by touching on some of what was shared.  Although we won't try to re-create the whole evening for everyone, we will pull out some key points, with examples that were shared to illustrate the points.

 Why Story? 

“My child is singing, it’s not something he’s ever done; that’s another avenue for literacy.  We had a long car trip to California and he’s been making up songs…” 

"Over the break my child said ‘let’s find all the letters of the alphabet in our livingroom.  It was really tough and I gave up, but my relatives were really impressed he was leading the game and it was all about discovery…” 

 “I have a question: Should there be a difference between sharing stories from reality and those from the imagination?"

Diving into stories and questions around superheroes with materials

Meaning Making

An example of this idea happened for a Beginning School student over winter break who was bit by a dog, resulting in four stitches in her foot.  On the way home from the hospital she asked that her family “not talk about it ever again”.  When she returned to school – in the safe setting of her community – she showed her stitches to a friend and shared a sneak peek at morning meeting about her experience.  The following week, her teachers offered bandaids as a material in story workshop to invite and provoke storytelling, as they knew this held the power to invite children's voice; develop empathy for and grow new perspectives to consider. 

After hearing a few stories from her peers, she drew the following picture and explained:

How fortunate for this child that she is in a learning community that recognizes the power of story to begin to understand and make meaning of her experience–her questions, her fears, her sense of well-being.  She continues to use story as a way to revisit and heal from this encounter as she shares in a recent Staircase Land story:  I went to Staircase Land…there are two guards at the door.  They have a guard dog that LOVES children.  He really loves children and is nice to ALL of them.  He’s a Dalmatian dog.  The guards protect Staircase Land from Bears and Wolves. 

Connection

Theorist Jerome Bruner proposes that we learn the syntax of our language to tell our stories.  This brings us to another idea–that we are wired for connection.  "Connection feels like a hole in your heart that has just been filled," states one former Opal 1st grader, and it is through story that we connect with one another and build a sense of belonging.  We explored this idea early in the Fall during reader's workshop as we paused on a passage in a book, Will You be My Friend, by Nancy Tafuri. 

Blue Jay is confronted with the dilemma of remaining in his wet, cold home during a rainstorm, or responding to an invitation from Bunny to join him in his warm, dry home to wait out the storm.  Blue Jay does not know Bunny yet, and the children speculated that he would need to muster his courage.  This presented a chance for the teacher to invite children to share their connection with this idea of vulnerability by asking, "Was there ever a time when your courage helped you?" 

 I was scared when I had to swim to my Grandma, but now I can do it! ~ZB

 When I walked on the rocks across the water.  ~JW

 I had to be brave when I walked on the slippery rocks to the deep water. ~QA.

 I went to the beach and I was a little bit scared to touch the starfish on the boat, but I did.  ~PY

 In this way, the children are experiencing the power of story in hearing one another share these vulnerable experiences, and see how each story invites them to add their voice, nurturing a sense of belonging through connection.  

 How do we define LITERACY at Opal School?

At this point in the evening, we paused to reflect on our definition of literacy at Opal School—which we define as the act of making meaning of ALL that we encounter.  This means that if we were to limit our thinking to the idea that literacy begins when children are reading and writing, we would hold the view that preschool age children are illiterate. 

Literacy as meaning-making means asking questions, making connections, learning to express in a variety of ways our experiences in the world—through the arts, sciences and through language. We know that preschool-age children already are doing many things that strong readers and writers do. Readers and writers play with language; play with inference, dialogue, and voice; use their imagination; take in information about the world and make detailed observations; use their senses; perceive relationships rich in variety of perspectives and contexts; and so much more! Readers and writers consider their audience and structures of story as they provide context, details, and sequence events.  They explore the connection between writing, illustrating and drafting by developing their ideas through drawing and construction to tell and generate ideas for stories.  So how do we see our role as parents and teachers in light of these ideas?

When a parent plays with her child; walks together and observes details in the world–patterns, textures, light, tastes, emotions; when we play together with voice and expression; when we sing songs and read books; when we set up areas for drawing and dramatic play, cooking and building–we are nurturing literacy development!

Sneak Peek for Part 2 Power of Story Blog Post:

Schema: The foundation of Story

What role does it play in developing shared understanding and language as well as expanding perspective and empathy?

How does this post stretch your own definition and understanding of literacy development?  What connections are you making?  Join our dialogue by adding a comment to this post!

One day last week, we invited the children to capture in their journals some sneak peeks from the stories in their lives they had been sharing.  As we invited one child to capture his story about climbing a ladder with his dad at home, he hesitated, "But I don't know how to draw a ladder." 

Hearing this, a nearby child offered, "You start with two lines down and then connect them with little lines going across like this," as his finger dashed out horizontal marks in the air between them. 

Doubtful, yet drawn in by the gentle coaching of his peer, the first child sat down and began to "have a go".  When we say at Opal School that we promote a social-constructivist approach to learning, this story that follows is an example of what we mean.Listening in, I was struck by two things–the gift of vulnerability and courage of the first child and his willingness to accept the coaching of the second child.

I was also struck by the second child's trust in seeing himself as a resouce, allowing the other the gift of being mentored.  He gently leaned in and offered advice, but did not offer immediately to do it for him.  There was no judgement, just a suggestion of how he might begin, and a simple, "That's good," as he proceeded.

The next hurdle came as the first child attempted to add himself on the ladder, "I'm not really good at drawing people," he said.

"Start with a circle for the head, then draw lines out to the side for  your arms like this," the other replied wiht more finger sweeps in the air.

The first child continues sighing and pausing. 

"It's hard isn't it?" The second child offers, then adds, "Do you want me to show you?"

Gently taking the pen, he adds on arm, reaching for the next rung on the ladder.

The first child considers this gesture, and picks up the pen again.

Together they consider how to add his legs.  I'm noticing the expression on the first child's face as it shifts and changes. From doubt to interest, determination and to joy.

 

As the first child takes the pen back into his hand again, the second child suddenly pauses and says, "What do you want to draw?  You should just do what you want to do."  Both boys smile at this idea and with this last bit of advice, the second child eases away while the first child completes his drawing:

 

The second child does not go far, however.  He decides to check in with others, and while listening to their stories, decides he will capture them in "writing", repeating back their words as they are spoken to him.

As they spoke, he nodded, encouraged, and remarked, "that's great, good story, wow, you did that?" 

Here are a few of their stories as he has captured them:

Again I reflect on the implications of what has just happened.  More than capturing their stories, he took time to listen, give back their words and they in turn were willing to share their stories with him.  I can't help but wonder how their responsiveness to him communicated this idea that he can take on a meaningful leadership role.  And what gift in return did he give to them through his own encouragement? 

Here is teaching and learning at it's best.  When I think of what I need to be able to learn, it takes courage, willingness, openness to ideas and vulnerability.  When I think of what it takes to lead, it takes empathy, flexibility, responsiveness, and encouragement.  These children do this so naturally.  There is so much we can learn from them, and I can't help but wonder about the meaning these experiences hold for them as they continue to grow into their roles as learners and teachers.

It is one thing to look back on this story and consider the experiences of the individuals, and what they have both gained and received from this encounter.  When we choose,however to consider that they both came away as competent, powerful learners, and consider the implications this has for our learning community as a whole, we see possibilities and further our inquiry into the merits of relationship-based education.

"What does it mean to be an explorer?"  To walk into the Early Kindergarten is to be met by a community of explorers!  The images below are what you can expect to see on any given morning.  They are showing us already how much the children know about what it means to be an explorer through their own investigations!  Here are just a few sneak peeks of what they have shown us they are interested in exploring…

What happens when I join in?  What does it mean to work together? 

 

What happens when all the colors meet together on paper? What does it look like when they are all playing together?  How is it like our own community?

"Look! I made a letter!  What letter is it?  Ok! Who wants to make a shark?"

 How many seeds did I collect?  How might this chart help me find out?

How might we play together?

How might we figure this out?     

What can we find out about volume, measurement, teamwork?

How tall can we make it?  What happens when we all work together?

 An investigation of ramp building leads to others…   

What stories might we find here?  What does partner work look like, sound like, feel like?

What can I learn from others?

"Do you want me to show you the steps for building it?"

"What else do you see?  I'm writing it down!"

What can magnatiles do?  How can I connect my idea with yours?  How can I get the materials I need and still make sure there are enough for my friends? 

 To Be an Explorer….

When the children first arrive at school, we have a block of time we refer to as "Explore Time."  Together we have been constructing what it means to be an explorer: What is possible during this time block? What are shared expectations for this time?   One child explained, "Explore means to try new things you've never tried before." "When you're an explorer," D.M. explained, "You learn more and more things."  To find out more, we asked the children what their thoughts were on this idea:

"It's important to find out more things because you could forget the things you already learned."  ~D.M.

"The more you learn, the more you grow smarter."  ~T.M.

"It would get old if you did the same thing every day."  ~D.M.

"You might get bored if you only did the same thing."  ~Z.B.

"If you try new things, you will learn more things." ~M.F.

"It's important to learn new things every day because then we can do anything!" ~J.W.

"Because then you can build anything you want if you keep trying new things and then there is cooler stuff to do!"  ~Q.A.

How does it feel to be an explorer?

"Good!"

"Happy!"

"Sometimes you're surprised!" 

As we continue our work of building a learning community, we will continue to create shared meaning around key words that are foundational to our work with one another. As language is so strongly attached to images and experiences unique to each individual, "cracking open" words is essential for creating shared understanding and a sense of belonging.  We point out words we are cracking open as we see it in action and reflect these stories back to the whole group as reference points. What did it feel like? Sound like? Look like?

Early last week, the children entered the classroom to find the sensory table filled with warm, soapy, green colored water.  The water had become a “friendship of green,” created by the children as they investigated color and friendship earlier in the week mixing  blue, pink and yellows into a giant water vessel  while responding to the question, “How can you help these colors to make friends?   What will happen when they meet water?  How will you know they are friends?" 

This water was added to the sensory table as an invitation to help the color friends "play" together and as a celebration of the friendships that had taken place in the water with the children's help.  Throughout this investigation we've invited the children to reflect on their own experiences — were they, like the colors, taking those risks to mix and begin to explore friendships?

 
This investigation emerged on the first days of school as we listened for the children's questions in the way they explored their new classroom and community.  We heard questions about color at both the message center and in the block area, "What happens when I mix yellow and blue?"  "How do you make purple?".  We also heard unspoken questions on friendship and sense of belonging, through observing gestures and behaviors such as,  

"Will I have a friend?  How might I connect to others here? How might I begin?  What if I'm not ready?  Will I be ok?  What if I miss my family?" 

In response to the children's questions,we engaged in a game with that Loris Malaguzzi, founder of the schools in Reggio Emilia refers to as "the ball toss" that begins with the children as they present an interest or question to the community.  The teachers who are listening and paying attention, respond with an invitation for the children to explore the question in a new way, throwing the ball back "in a way that makes the children want to continue playing the game."  Asking the children for their help in introducing the colors to one another seemed like the perfect provocation to explore their questions further.

 The children were intrigued and delighted with the provocation.  As we came back together for a reflection meeting, we asked the them,

 "Do the colors want to feel safe?  What words might they need to hear to find their courage?  What do you need to feel safe and find your courage?"

 M.S.: Just try it!

C.Y.: It will be fun! 

As we
prepared for the transition to clean up and gather for morning snack,
Michelle paused and contemplated what to do with the green soapy water in the
sensory table.  She reflects, "I wondered to myself, 'Should I empty the
contents into the sink?  Can I let this water simply go down the
drain?  Can I let go of the green water and the symbol of relationships
it had become?'"  She turned to Kimie and asked her, “What should we do
with the water?”  The question stopped Kimie short—was it time?  Were
they ready?  Were we ready?  Together we scanned the classroom.  Before
us was a classroom of children engaged, connected, and together.  We had
our answer.  The children had spoken so clearly. 

As adults, we tend to
hold on, but children have a beautiful way of reminding us that it’s
okay to let go. Michelle reflects, "I nodded and thought to myself, Coming
together had moved from the unknown to a reality.  A reality we could
celebrate.  I was reminded of C.Y.’s words, 'Come on, it’ll be fun.' 
And F.B.-R.’s comment as blue and pink suddenly became purple, 'It
happened so fast.'"

The more we explore these questions, new questions emerge.  We are continually listening for their responses and next questions as we wonder how to support their larger work of constructing what it means to build a learning community where every individual feels integral to the whole.  The children have added their own interpretations of what has happened to the color and water:   "The colors are friends now.  They aren't scared anymore–they're having fun!"   We asked them if they thought this was happening to our community in the Early K.  "Yes! Yes!" they replied.  "What color does it make when all of us are playing together then?"  We asked. 

"Brown!" "Black!"  "I know, Green!"  were the first responses.  Then D.M. spoke, "It makes every color in the world!" 

"Wow! What would that look like to see every color in the world become friends?  Do you think that you could show us what that would look like, maybe with paint tomorrow?" 

The children are planning on creating their own images and sewing them all together to create one quilt of what it looks like when ALL the colors are playing together.

We had been hoping for an opportunity to invite the children to participate in a collaborative project as a way to experience the power of working together.  What a great opportunity to construct a visual reference point for our work together in becoming a part of a learning community while continuing to play with color through paint! 

And so with this provocation, our investigation of building a learning community and finding our place among it, as well as exploring the magic of color and water continues. We can hardly wait for tomorrow!

 Early in the Fall, the children began to notice how quickly signs of Summer were beginning to fade.  They tried to capture summer in paint on paper with a boquet of mystery sunflowers left in our room, and in mixing Summer’s greens, but we wondered together, where else might their Summer stories continue to live and grow?  

     Summerland is a project that emerged from both the children and the teacher’s interests. 

The children wanted a place to capture and revisit Summer, even in the cold, grey winter months.  I also knew that several children in the group really loved and needed a place to act out stories in a “small world” setting, as they began the year in a new community.   I also wondered how a sense of belonging and connection could be found by working together on a challenge and game to capture Summer.  What messages will they take away from this project about collaboration, connection and contributing to a project that belongs to the entire community?  What might they discover about one another and about themselves? 

    We asked the children how they might like to construct "Summerland", a place to hold their stories and collaborate, to brainstorm ideas and work together–they loved the idea.  Trees came first, after the idea was put out that, "Summer is when trees bloom green on their leaves." 
Next, they began planning immediately.  Their ideas included, but were not limited to, the beach, a campground, swings, flower boxes, farmer's market, waterslide, pool, waterfall, river, fireworks, hummingbird, and more. 

Download Summerland plans
Characters were added…to the structure

Still more is being added to this all the time–What do you think the children are learning from this experience?  How does working on a collaborative project over time nurture a sense of belonging and build relationships, with self, materials, others, ideas?