Pie, pie, and more pie

One of the things that didn't change when I came to third grade was the approach to writing. I've used Writer's Workshop and individual conferences with students for years, and while the lessons are a little different for younger writers, the basic structure is the same, and leads to moments with kids where they really get writing, and get excited about it.

D. came to tell me she was done with her story. "I read it, it makes sense." Her story went like this:

I love pie. I cud eat

pie all day

if I kud.

Reglar (regular)

charey

pie.

I love pie.

D. has a hard time writing. She doesn't read very well, which makes writing even harder. I started asking her questions. Why do you like pie so much? What's your favorite kind of pie? Why is that your favorite?

She started talking about making pie with her Grandma, and how her Grandma sometimes puts frosting on the bottom of a cherry pie, which makes it extra good. Just talking to me about it made her smile.

I knew we'd found it. "There's your story," I said, "Your first story basically says you like pie. I don't know anyone who doesn't like pie, but I've never heard of putting frosting in it."

D. went back and completely rewrote her story to tell about making pie with her Grandma and how that makes her feel. She ended up with something she was really proud of.

This is why I love Writer's Workshop, for kids like D. who absolutely hate writing when they come to me, and realize by the end that they do have a story to tell.

~ Something bad will happen ~

Third graders, in some respects, are easier than fifth graders. An obvious statement, perhaps, but I'm continually finding new ways that this is true.

For several years, I have done away with an established system of consequences. There's no checkmark, no first getting five minutes of recess taken, then ten, etc. I find it's much more effective to ask the child what they think should happen to them, or just tell them if they don't stop,

something bad will happen.

I've used that vaguely threatening phrase for several years, but I'm finding it to be much more effective with third graders because of conversations like this one, with J. On our way back from the Kindergarten bake sale, I asked students to walk quietly, single file, no voices. As usual. And then, I used my vaguely threatening phrase, "If you decide to talk, you can be sure something bad will happen." Which was when J piped up, "Like getting our snack taken away, Mrs. N?"

I almost thanked him for giving me his consequence, and had to keep myself from laughing out loud. "That would be really bad, wouldn't it J?"

Fifth graders usually know when to shut up, so you don't get these kinds of insights into exactly what they don't want to have happen.

I think they might be growing on me...

~Perspective~

While out of my room so the student teacher could teach without students interrupting to ask me a question, I escaped to the computer lab. As I sat there, typing out a Social Studies outline for the year, a parapro from the autistic room came in with a student.

I think they were learning verbs, because she had a set of cards that she showed him and he'd have to say, "The boy is running" or swimming or jumping.

From the get-go, this student was agitated. "No school!" he kept blurting. She'd patiently reply, "Yes, school."

After nearly every card he completed, his first request was, "New cards, please!" with increasing urgency. She continued to patiently ignore him and give him the next card.

In my most frustrating day, I have less repetition and agitation to deal with than she did in the fifteen minutes she worked with him. Yet I still find myself losing my patience with kids when I've had to remind them again how to add, or subtract with borrowing.

What a reminder to take a deep breath and remember the patience God has with me.

~ Too Much Information ~

Our little class has been working hard all month to collect personal connections to the books we're reading. Last week, each student had to have their own connection to the book they're reading written in their reading journal. Most of them did a nice job. So did A., although his was possibly a little too enlightening:

"I'm reading Captain Underpants. He wanders around in his underwear a lot. And so do I."

~Why's that again?~

We're finishing the state testing this week. MEAP. My favorite thing ever. Fifth graders are so over MEAP testing, but for third graders? Well, it's their first time, and they have lots of questions.

The biggest question? "Why do we have to use Number 2 pencils?" We gave them a couple of Number 2 pencils at the beginning of the week. When we got to the second day of testing, we asked them to get their number two pencils out. Pens, odd pencils, and crayons came out, along with the question. WHY the number 2 pencil?

"Because," we told them, "number 2 pencils make the computers that grade your test happy. We have to make the computer happy."

But still, each testing session brought about more questions. T actually got a little teary eyed when I took his camoflauge pencil away and handed him a good old number 2. "But WHY?" he whined.

And just now, as Ms L read a funny story about standardized testing, another question. "Why do you have to use a number two pencil?"

"TO MAKE THE COMPUTER HAPPY!" the rest of the class informed him.

Who would have thought this was what they'd have trouble with?

~ Oh, the things I thought I'd be missing~

A new realization has come to me since teaching third grade. The drama queens we get in the fifth grade have their roots in the third grade.

Mean girls. Drama Queens. Queen Bees & Wannabes.

Call them what you will, I've got at least three of them, ripping a path of destruction through my classroom.

We typically aren't aware of the problem until someone blurts out, "I HATE YOU!" They're good at keeping things under the surface. Then the detective work begins.

Last week, we worked hard on personal connections to stories. For example, the person in the story we were reading had a little brother who drove her nuts, and those of us who had younger siblings understood the story much better because we knew what that was like. We had a personal connection. They all went off to read their own books, and at the end everyone got a chance to share a connection they found to their own story. All fine and good.

The next thing we knew, M was shouting her hatred at a couple other girls at break time. After some calm down/thinking time next door, I went in to talk to her. Her side of the story? "I only said that because K said that my connection in reading wasn't right when Ms. L said it was fine. And then K went and told B my connection was bad and B said to A and K that they weren't going to play with me anymore."

Wow. So, I poked my head in and interuptted break time for B and K and A. I sent them all to different rooms and then pulled them one at a time to verify M's story. Which they did, K saying that she thought M's connection was a bunch of baloney and didn't like it when M argued with her about it, which is why she told B. B saying that she didn't like M arguing with K and that's why she decided that M couldn't play with them. A saying she just wanted to play with K and B and didn't like M all that much, only she didn't know why. Except that B and K didn't like her either.

Following all of this? It was enough to make my head spin as well. A round of consequences was had by all, and I was left shaking my head.

They act like fifth grade girls. With a couple of key differences. One, when I talked to them, they all cried. Fifth grade girls sigh and roll their eyes over stuff like this. They rarely cry. Two, with fifth grade girls, I would never have even known about this whole thing. The whole scene in the classroom would have been communicated in a series of facial expressions, gestures, and quiet whispers, and it would have become truly nasty out on the playground, away from the prying eyes of any teacher. Third grade girls just haven't figured that out yet.

I thought I would have less of this to deal with, not more. Third graders continue to surprise me...and not always in good ways.

~Oh, the things I'm missing!~

There are several things I miss about teaching fifth graders.
Sense of humor.
Independence.
The ability to remember more than two consecutive directions.

But then there are the things I'm really glad to be missing.
The Period Club.

Yes, the period...the dreaded monthly visit. Er, dreaded unless you're a fifth grade girl, that is. Across the hall (which is fifth grade land) M. has started her period. Soon, a bevy of girls from across the hall head to the bathroom several times a day, because they're sure they've started. They have conferences in the bathroom to discuss whether they've started, and how they can tell for sure.

And so my former partner teacher finally took away their bathroom passes. The girls have designated times to use the restroom. And they have to be supervised.

The thing is...the girl who started her period was supposed to be in my room this year. So it seems I've missed out on the Period Club.

There are still things to do a happy dance about.