Showing posts with label cognitive knots. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cognitive knots. Show all posts

Monday, November 28, 2016

Professional Development For Teachers/ By Teachers/About Teaching

At 9:00 AM, on our annual Day of Learning, 58 educators gazed around a circle expectantly, wondering about how they’d spend their day.
At 9:01 AM, a teacher stepped forward to write a question she wanted to discuss on a big piece of paper. Then another teacher stepped into the circle, then another, each sharing an issue that needed attention. Soon our agenda was full and teachers were off to their first session. No one told them what to do, where to be, or what to work on for the next three hours.

How did this come to be? First,  a little background:
For seven years, our teachers gather with educators from other centers for workshops and a keynote. We appreciate meeting and eating together, being inspired and celebrated. We’ve had some great workshops and a few incredible speakers. We’ve been satisfied, but we’ve also heard that teachers wish they had gotten more out of the day for a variety of reasons. Simultaneously, our directors are trusting teachers more to influence our shared pedagogy and share expertise with one another and others.

This year, we tried something different. We spent our morning in Open Space and our afternoon implementing the plans we’d made. We trusted teachers to co-create their learning the way that we trust children. We had already begun planning this Day of Learning, when I encountered Laurie Calvert's white paper "Moving From Compliance to Agency; What Teachers Need to Make Professional Learning Work." and I was encouraged by her words:
"constructivist theories are grounded in a body of research  that shows people
gain knowledge and meaning from the interaction between their experiences
and beliefs... for real learning to take place, the adult learners must be
both decision makers and the subjects — and agents — of their own learning. "

Harrison Owens invented Open Space Technology  by  to make workshops more like the coffee breaks in conferences, where he saw the most excitement. Open Space has facilitated whole school systems, corporations, unions, NGO’s, neighborhoods and other communities answering questions or solving problems that are big and urgent. Sometimes over a whole week! We sampled hour-long Open Space sessions at past Days of Learning with success and were ready to unleash the power of teacher’s hearts and minds making them the decision makers.
Generally, Open Space organizers propose a broad theme and then participants spontaneously co-create the agenda. Meetings are composed only of people who feel passionately about the topic, so conversations are energetic and lively, and the learning is deep.
Our theme was  “What Would Mr. Roger’s Do?”
In a world of learning standards, digital distractions and injustice…
How do we make room for play?
How do we nurture children's interior lives?
How can we model challenging bias and building a fairer world?
How can we offer children the compassion, humor, attention to detail and radical respect that Mr. Rogers did?”

We shared some of his work with attendees in advance, to whet appetites and educate some of our international staff's who were unfamiliar with Rogers. He and his work were our point of departure and inspiration for the day.

Here are a few of the sessions that teachers convened:
How can we advocate for peace in our classroom while honoring conflict and struggle?

How do we encourage self worth and positive body image in a world that’s constantly telling kids that they are cute?

How should we facilitate and make room for weapon play?

Given the bazillion necessary transitions in ECE classrooms how do we realize rich curriculum?

How can we become collaborators in children’s learning (rather than dictators, playmates, or silent observers) and still do everything we need to do everyday?

Sessions were filled with thoughtful teachers leaning across tables, talking quickly and excitedly or thoughtfully and deliberately, laughing, crying and creating new solutions and ideas. It was incredible to witness and it was facilitated by a very simple structure.

Open Space has One Law and Four Principles. Here's how they looked for us:
“The Law of Mobility” (AKA “The Rule of Two Feet”)
You can come and go at any time. You are obliged to move if you aren’t contributing or benefitting from the session. Pairing freedom and obligation has powerful results:
[In one session about racial justice, children and families] “I felt like I immediately messed up, and I really felt so raw and uncomfortable and I was like, ‘Oh my god, I have to leave because I don’t think I can challenge myself on this right now.’ But then I was like, ‘No no no, you’re staying.’ I could change my mind about that.”

“Usual PD, you have to sit there and keep your eyes open even when it’s boring.. The first session, was a hard topic to talk about. If I wanted to bail for any reason, I could leave and go somewhere else... but I didn’t, actually. I stayed.”

In a group of care-givers, this mandate to take care of oneself and one’s own learning was radical.

Whoever comes are the right people.
A preschool teacher and an infant teacher decided to bring their children together. Our center values cross-class collaboration, but a series of scheduling emails can’t generate the same level of excitement as an unstructured conversation. Instead of working to find commonality, two teachers wondered about the same question and shared inspiration which will inform their shared work.

Whatever happens is the only thing that could have.
Our Day of Learning was three days after the 2016 presidential election. Many teachers were worried about the outcomes for education, their health care, the safety of their bodies or the bodies of their loved ones. They’d been balancing their feelings with the crucial and absorbing work of care-giving. They needed to balance bringing their whole selves to work and leaving some of their strong emotions outside the classroom.

The group grieved, told stories,  shared worries and fears. They took turns witnessing and  supporting one another. When the hour long session was “over”, they knew that another group would be arriving to have a new session, but they were not even close to done. They trusted in the principles and moved their session outside for at least another thirty minutes. After exploring their feelings, the conversation became more solution-oriented.The group named ways to care for themselves and have a healthy boundary and then shared those with the larger group.

When it starts is the right time.
Only two teachers showed up for one session about how to ground curriculum in the natural world. Their talk ranged to a general discussion of the Reggio Emilia approach and both figured they wouldn’t get to the topic that brought them together. Three other teachers arrived twenty minutes later, and it was suddenly clear that the moment was right and their work was more powerful because it started when the conditions were right.

When it's over, it's over.
During our agenda creation, one teacher asked a great question, and others were interested. Later, those interested teachers must have chosen other conversations because the convening teacher stood by her question looking eagerly around. After about ten minutes, she left to find another session that interested her; and she brought the lens of her question with her to other discussions throughout the day. This flexibility comes naturally to many teachers who adapt throughout their work day.

Three hours after that first brave teacher stood up and picked up a marker to begin creating our agenda,  we heard from teachers about the day:
“This felt much more productive and thought provoking than other professional development.”

“This is the best day in my history of Day of Learning.”

“This validates what we do.”

“It felt great to navigate my own learning. There’s usually one agenda, and I could choose my learning today.”

“I really needed this today.”

“I’m grateful to be surrounded by so many people who are thinking critically, and reflecting and questioning and acting.”

After reflecting on our process and offering gratitude and appreciation for one another, we examined the next steps that each session offered. We indicated which we would be willing to spend our time and energy pursuing by adding checks and stars. (Each person got three checks and one star to “spend” to communicate their enthusiasm.) Some of the next steps were:

Creating a “family shelf” tradition to emphasize the idea that “Everyone has a culture.”

A new practice of “refreshing” morning provocations, or offering a new provocation in the middle of the morning.

Developing a habit of trying a few different approaches to offering materials to children.

Writing to legislators about our priorities for families, teachers and children.

Teachers from three different centers will create a blog whose audience will be the general public in order to raise awareness about the importance of social emotional learning in the early years.
Initiating a preemptive conversation about aggressive play styles and narratives with toddler families and teachers BEFORE their children enter preschool.

Each of these next steps COULD have been the outcome of a particularly moving workshop, but organizers would have to choose specifically the right presenters for the sixty teachers in attendance. Our humble, open-hearted director said “My question was “What do teachers really need?” and we answered it; You need time and space to process....” With Open Space, each teacher had the opportunity to grow and learn about whatever was most exciting (or upsetting, or curious...) to them. Staff alumni attended as collaborators and co-thinkers, not “presenters” . Everyone (directors too!) inhabited the roles of learner, witness and teacher flexibly. Teachers were given the afternoon to follow up on their initiatives in their teams, and they spent lunchtime sharing stories of their mornings together.
I recently had the pleasure of seeing James Noonan speak about his dissertation, and his words from a blog post entitled "Professional Development (and Teacher Agency) As We Know It" rang in my head as teachers departed at the end of the day:

"In my research, I asked teachers to tell me about their most powerful professional
learning experience and about a corresponding professional learning experience
that they “would like never to have again.” ... Among good and bad experiences I
found ones that were both expert-led lectures and decentralized learning communities,
school-based and external, content-focused and more cerebral, years-long and hours-long, pedagogically experiential and didactic.... I am increasingly convinced that agency is one
of the most salient distinguishing features of powerful professional learning. Indeed, of the
25 powerful learning experiences I studied, 21 involved some degree of teacher agency. Of
15 corresponding negative learning experiences, 13 were mandated. The contrast, while
certainly not conclusive, was striking and suggests to me that instead of carefully balancing
the scales between agency and compliance it is preferable to tip them toward agency."


Tuesday, February 16, 2016

Schema Theory; Following The Threads of Children and Teachers

“There’s a thread you follow.
It goes among things that change.  
But it doesn’t change.
People wonder about what you
are pursuing.


You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can’t get lost.”


From The Way It Is by William Stafford



January’s teacher provocations unpacked Schema theory. This theory recognizes repeated patterns in children’s play as threads that connect children’s learning over time. Most of us have encountered a child who throws everything they can, who spends lots of time on the swings learning how to jump off, and who watches an airplane move across the sky. This child might have a “ trajectory” schema. Children who fill buckets or bags and make deliveries may have a “transporting” schema. These two examples are physical presentations of schemas, but someone with a circular or rotational schema may enjoy spinning things (and themselves) and enjoy drawing circles and thinking about how a jet engine, a bicycle pedal or a Ferris wheel works. For some depth on schema theory, look here. For a practical chart to help you start identifying and planning for schemas, check out this chart and remember this is NOT a comprehensive list. There are as many schemas as there are children.


Thinking about children’s play and work this way helps teachers and parents take a new look at repeated play behaviors and see them as constructive, engaged learning actions. (Sometimes adults find themselves stumped or irritated by repeated behaviors and this perspective can help us identify the learning taking place even as the child is pulling all the toilet paper off the roll, or covering their arms and hands with paint.) Teachers can use our knowledge of individual children’s schemas to carefully prepare our provocations to support the ways our children are learning. Story cubes can help a child with a trajectory schema in co-creating a narrative, adding pieces of fabric to the block area might intrigue a child who has an enveloping schema.


Unlike many topics we explore together, this one was, for the most part, an unfamiliar concept. We did some reading from Getting Started With Schemas by Nikolien van Wijk (a book I bought in New Zealand where schemas are more commonly used to understand children’s play and work), and from other sources. We sorted photographs of children’s play by schema, drew stories of schemas we see every day and as we worked, we talked.

Over four meetings, I began to see threads of common understanding in how teachers constructed this idea of schemas and how they fit into our work. I think that some of these threads may be abstract schemas, habitual ways of considering new ideas. I don’t have enough evidence from these meetings to identify the repeated patterns for individuals but overall I heard teachers folding this new information into their existing expertise in a variety of ways. I’ve grouped them here to demonstrate the many different ways to consider new ideas about our work, and to demonstrate the parallel tracks our professional development and our teaching of young children can take.


Analyzing: Some teachers took apart the theory of schemas, looking at it from different angles.


“How does adult... interest or [action] impact a child’s schema? How does the child react to being seen this way?”


“I sometimes wonder, is that [repeated behavior] keeping them from doing other things? But I guess that is the thing, actually.”


“I’m becoming very aware of children’s and adult’s agendas.... I’m not attuned enough yet to see a pattern, but I see how schemas could help me see children’s agendas more clearly.”


Considering development: Some teachers fit the concept of schemas onto their preexisting knowledge of how children change and grow.


“It’s hard for me to see a schema NOT as something that naturally comes after one stage and before the next.”


“As kids get older it’s easier for me to see how much attention they can give to one thing.”


“How do I learn a child’s schema without being influenced by stages of learning?”


Self-reflecting: These teachers thought a lot about how their emotions connect with what they learned about schemas.


“Why does this behavior bother me? Why does it matter if he fills a bucket every day?”

“This helps me to reframe what I take for granted in children’s play.”

“Developing curriculum in this way challenges me to think about why I say no, make rules.”

“When I can put myself in a child’s shoes, I’m better able to teach. This is another way to do that.”


Questioning: These teachers tend toward big questions, and their learning about schemas catapulted their thinking into philosophical directions.

“What makes different kids develop different schemas?”

“What is the nature of learning?”

“So... schemas are always patterns but patterns are not always schemas, right?”


Strategizing: Some teachers rolled up their sleeves and immediately considered how this theory would function.
“This is a way of watching a child’s focus; not on one idea or activity but across themes, across materials and activities.”

“What a wonderful way to think about redirection... and about continuing in a direction!”

“Kids in my class are fighting, are being powerful and dominating one another. I’m not sure what schemas they’re exploring but I’ll take notes.”

“It’s a way of saying yes, which my team is trying to do right now. We notice and then say "Let’s find a way to make these things happen”.

“It’s a helpful way of getting to know new children.”


It’s important for me to note that these are not transcriptions of conversations. I sifted four different 90 minute conversations into these categories. I looked for patterns in the same way that a teacher looking for schemas will. Sometimes two people with different threads spoke to one another. It was challenging, but teachers here are used to communicating despite differences. Just as children with different schemas can be invited to play together by carefully designing provocations, adults with different approaches to new ideas can be invited to talk about them through careful provocation. The variety of activities (group text study, conversation prompted by quotations, illustrating a narrative, collaboratively sorting photos by schema) provided allowed folks with different preferred threads of investigation to connect.

Self-reflection is a teaching skill. The more we can see our own thread, the better we can find them in the work and play of others. Which of the above resonates with your way of wondering?

How do you see this kind of work happening with the third protagonists, families? What threads of habitual thinking do they hold through a variety of different experiences?

Thursday, May 1, 2014

Thinking About Our Year-end Showcase Together

For the last few years, our center has hosted Showcase, an evening when teachers create special displays or panels to highlight moments from the year we are ending together. In a center full of great teachers, we can feel stressed to perform, overwhelmed by all the possibilities or pressured to compete with all the incredible work happening.

I met with the administrative team and we agreed that in the three years that we've had showcase, not once has anyone "not done enough" or disappointed anyone. In fact, when we reflected on these past events, we felt like many people could have done less and still be very happy with their result. In order to head off some of the pressures felt by teachers, and to help us to create the kinds of displays we can be proud of with less effort, we had provocations this month all about Showcase. 

Part of my design of teacher provocation is considering who will attend. Sometimes it's random, and teachers appreciate working with people from around the school. Other times, I'll pick different aspects of the topic, so that teachers can choose which to attend based on their interests. Still other times, we ask people to attend based upon whether they are a new or veterarn staff because those groups have different needs or points of view. This month, I invited Team Coordinators to come first. These veteran teachers with added responsibilities on their team are often the ones cursing at the copier, or having Showcase nightmares in the weeks leading up to the event. I specifically invited this group to name the stressors, the expectations of different protagonists, and our values for Showcase.
Serena and Tracy list the stressors that coincide with planning Showcase.
Sammie, Sarah and Erin consider what families expect from Showcase.


Next, our newest teachers attended, most of them with only a vague idea of what Showcase would be, or with a huge impression from having attended early on in their time with us without having to contribute. We spent a lot of time looking at images of past Showcase displays and discussing what worked for us and what didn't. Finally other teachers, all of whom had been a part of showcase, but who didn't have the same weight on their shoulders as the TC's.

Amy and Sara discuss documentation of Showcases from before they joined our community.


Amy, Sara, Monica and intern Madhumita use Deiter Ram's 10 Principles of Design to analyze past Showcases.
All three groups spent some time reflecting individually in writing, and then sharing their impressions of Showcase. We thought about other events that we've been a part of like this one;

  • teaching a culminating yoga class during teacher training
  • a final gallery show in art school 
  • collaborating on a piece of published writing
  • a wedding 
  • numerous plays 
  • political events and how these shaped our assumptions and our thoughts about Showcase. 

Then we examined Deiter Rams’ “10 Principles of Good Design”. Most teachers have no training in design, and yet we design provocations, documentation and displays like these. We used these principles to guide our thinking about past Showcases as we examined books of documentation. We identified which principles we embraced already as a community (1,3, and 6) and which we could try to fold into our work this year  (2,4 and 10) . From these meetings, I created this summary of our collective wisdom. I wonder what will feel different about our Showcase this year.

What’s Your Metaphor? How do you view Showcase? Is it a marathon? An essay? A play? An art show? A final for a really hard class? A reunion or a wedding celebration? Sara shared how her history as a story-telling performer affected the improvisation and depth that she brings to designing documentation, while another teacher’s experience working in a gallery taught her to handle the stress of last minute design changes. We've all planned an event, or final draft. Those experiences taught us something and affect what we assume about showcase and how we prepare. Talk with your team about your history, and how you see Showcase now. One teacher told us that Showcase was a stressful event like having a tooth pulled. If she changed the way that she sees the event, would that change the way she feels about it?

How Much is Just Enough? Different teachers talked about how much text is the right amount to display. One teacher looked back at her brief interpretive paragraphs from last year’s Showcase and said that it looked a little too long to her now. Think about how long it takes you to read text, and how much time you can expect a viewer to spend in your room. Use this information to make decisions about how much writing to include on the walls. Teachers pointed out that it’s nice to have your collection of documentation in a binder nearby for anyone who would like to look for more depth. (Note, this document is 933 words. See how long it takes you to read.)

An excess of images can also lead to a sense of “overstimulation” that several teachers mentioned when describing their past encounters with showcase. Eileen brought up her own experience of choosing “the best of the best” for photography exhibits, a good tactic to keep in mind when selecting pictures for display. This also plays into honoring one of the principles of design - to be environmentally friendly. Consider what will happen to these images after Showcase ends: how many prints can you easily save for future use or give away to families to take home? Make your pictures count!  

What Have You Already Done? Many of our teachers have had the experience of displaying their past work in a gallery. Think about what you’ve already done this year and how you can prune it a little bit, change the look but avoid writing more than a small summary or interpretive piece. Since the second week of school, Toddler 2 North has been collecting documentation in a basket for possible inclusion in Showcase. You can also do this digitally on your computer by copying documentation into a Showcase folder if you like.

What is Too Big or Too Small? We heard that some people can’t read small print without their glasses, or that some people think that larger is more aesthetically pleasing. Eileen brought up her experience in a gallery “when I'm looking at a big piece with someone else, we might say something about what we see because we're seeing the same things at the same time. When it's smaller, I’m reading the whole thing on my own and having a private experience.” Consider what sort of experience you are trying to provide as you choose the size of your images and text - do you want to open up conversations between viewers or offer a moment for quiet, individual reflection?

What Does It Mean to Be a Team? I brought up that if a team can come together behind a shared vision, the display is often much more legible as a whole, and it can be more succinct and focused than the more common approach of three individuals telling their own stories. Katie realized that part of the panic in the last days and hours before provocation are largely due to an “every person for herself” mindset that occurs when each teacher is designing their own display. If the three people are working together, they’ll have communicated about what’s happening weeks before, and they’ll be working toward shared goals, finishing earlier and enjoying their pizza (Center-wide take out is our pre-Showcase tradition). How can your team decide together what to display from your shared work this year?

Is Showcase Just About What's on The Wall? Sara reminded us that Showcase is not the displays that we hang, it’s the interaction among community members and with the displays. We are creating a structure where Showcase can take place, one that invites people to consider big ideas, whole stories, or fundamental questions. The Showcase is found as much in the conversations as it is in the printed word or pictures. Consider the ways in which you can make space for them in the design of your presentation.

How Is Our Work Part of Something Larger? Showcase is intended as an opportunity for teachers, children and families to view the work happening all over the center. It also offers our own families and friends a window into what we do. Erin pointed out that our design can facilitate this kind of movement.

How can our design encourage readers to take in the work of the whole community, and make connections among all that they see? How can the stories we present work together to illustrate our identity as a center as well as individual classrooms?

Have you been a part of our Showcase in the past? What were your impressions? Has your center hosted a tour, or a culminating event like this one? What wisdom can you offer us?

Monday, November 18, 2013

When do we teach them and when do we let them wonder?

October's Provocation: What Do the Principles of Reggio Emilia Look Like Here?
Last week, four parents of children from 1-4 years old joined Katy and I for our first family provocation to talk about what we mean when we talk about the “Reggio Emilia approach” in our context.  We started with some parent questions about our history - about how and when we found this approach and started bringing it to bear on our pedagogy at PTCC. Katy, our director who is celebrating her thirtieth year working here, was incredibly helpful at this stage. She told the story of how PTCC came to be, and how we came to our approach  (gradually, over the last fifteen years or so.)

Next, we read PTCC’s mission statement together, and spent extra time on phrases from the second paragraph, where we get specific about what we do here.  I asked the parents to work in pairs and identify examples from their experiences here at the center. Here are some highlights:






Sarah: The children are co-constructors as well. For example, I love the “Question of the Day”. One time the question was “What makes trains go?” One child said people make trains go. Two said coal makes trains go. Two said electricity makes trains go. One child said a motor makes trains go and two said batteries make trains go. My child said batteries make trains go since she was thinking of her toy Lego train at home. The other child said batteries make trains go really fast. All of them were right and they were very different and it was a wonderful question. As they're talking about the answers, they listen to each other and they think about it differently."

Andrew: For my children, transition can be very difficult. The "Question of the Day" is a welcoming ritual for my family. As they enter the classroom, they're being grounded by thinking about their life outside of it.



Rick: From the kids' perspective; they spend so much time here. I can imagine it being disconcerting if you did not have a connection with home.

Abby: [This] last [sentence] stands out for me because of the documentation. I see this all the time. I am used to seeing pictures and a verbatim story about my son, and what he said, and then a reflection from a teacher. I know what my kid is doing at school.




Jumping In and Stepping Back

Rather than simply reading a list of principles we share with our colleagues in Italy, our conversation surrounded one "cognitive knot". Striving to untangle these sorts of knots is not just the work of adults in our tradition:

"Just as a knot (whorl) in  wood grain impedes a saw cutting through it, and just as a knot (tangle) in thread stops the action of a sewing needle, any problem that stops the children and blocks their action is a kind of cognitive knot." (pg 157, The Hundred Languages of Children, Third Edition). 

To hear our staff think about these kinds of knots, read this post.  Suffice it to say, we value them, we welcome them and we know that they help us to grow and learn when we try to get them undone. 

The knot we discussed is tangled around the questions:
"When do we step in and when do we step back?" 
"What is the role of an educator or parent in a child-centered curriculum " and 
"What do we let children explore and what do we "teach" them?" 

These questions could be a whole other post, so I'll just share that we had a great chat that included:
  • What's the difference between attentive inaction and inaction?
  • Is it ok to let children work under a flawed or completely incorrect theory about the world? For how long?
  • How do babies acquire a new skill? How can an adult support their learning?
  • How do we acquire or build knowledge?
  • What and how do children learn when we don't teach them?
  • Valuing frustration as the starting place of innovation and learning.
We didn't answer any of these questions (sorry, everyone, you'll have to keep working on these knots yourself!) but we had a very lively and satisfying (to me) conversation that left us all wondering further.

Next, we each read a piece of documentation written by teachers. Writing about children is a big part of our practice, and we value it for several reasons. It's a great place to look to learn about what it means when teachers and staff here say that we're inspired by the educators in Reggio Emilia. Reading pieces from infant, toddler and preschool rooms we noticed:
  • that documentation can give us a window into the classroom, set the context so that we can better participate when we're there
  • a teacher describing her internal dialog, her own struggle about how to respond to some children's conflicting ideas
  • a teacher allowing children to linger and move through the transition from naptime at their own pace, playfully
  • it's hard to know what a baby is intending or preferring before they can communicate very intentionally, and one teacher/author spent time considering the possibilities for one child in one moment

Finally, I asked if anyone had any unanswered questions, and we all agreed that the question of when do we help our children or tell the "the answer" lingered. 

  • I recommended the book Talking Their Way Into Science by Karen Gallas. It's by a teacher researcher about a classroom of 7 and 8 year olds, but the principles are absolutely valid when thinking about younger learners. It's short and fascinating and a great read.
  • We talked about our practices with babies and young toddlers and how many teachers are also inspired by Magda Gerber. A blog by one of her students, Janet Lansbury, can be found here.
  • Andrew gave us a beautiful synopsis of the big ideas behind constructivism (here's an interesting link he passed along) and suggested an article in Wired about emergent learning in the older grades. We also discussed the TED talks of Sugata Mitra, which detail how children learn without being explicitly taught.
This blog is one way that we can continue this conversation. Where do you fall as a parent or teacher on the "stepping in" or "stepping back" spectrum? What are some of the flawed theories your children have shared with  you as they constructed their ideas about the world?