I was rushing through the grocery store this weekend trying to do too much in too little time. At our check out, we are almost always asked to donate money to a cause and fill out our name on a card that is posted in the store. I always give $1, figuring that adding $1 to my grocery bill is manageable for us and necessary for the cause. Today, I started scribbling my name on the turkey shaped paper, ready to run out quickly.

Of course, for the first time ever, Katherine said, “Can I sign my name today?” Part of me was ready to say, “No! We are in a terrible hurry!” but instead, I took a deep breath and handed her the pen. I commanded my breath to slow as she diligently wrote each letter of her very long name with precision. She writes her name a lot but it was clear to her that this was something different. She took great care to make her handwriting very neat as if the seriousness of the task demanded a different level of legibility.

I am so very glad I was able to pause and give Katherine a true opportunity for real world, authentic and purposeful writing. Lets hope I stop and remember to do this kind of ‘work’ with her over and over again…

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Having spent last week trick or treating among piles of snow and downed power lines, it seems impossible to believe that the holiday season is fast approaching. I am given a reminder, however, as I dream and plan about a course I am teaching in just a few short weeks.

My local friends can join me at the Ridgewood Community School on November 30th to learn about Books as Gifts: How to Choose Titles Children Will Love. To register click here.

Taken directly from the marketing materials…

Take a break from Goodnight Moon. Instead of going back again and again to the same old favorites, learn how to choose current children’s literature that will leave kids wishing more people gave them books for the holidays. You will leave the session with the tools to make your own choices as well as with lists of titles appropriate for a variety of ages.

And my friends who would need to travel unrealistic distances to join me, I ask you to participate as well. My presentation continues to grow as I talk with people and add thoughts and ideas. Do you give children books as gifts? If you do,what are some of your favorites? What are you most creative ways to pair books with toys? How do you encourage a love of reading with the gifts you give?

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The last Bookfest session that I was able to attend before the snow really started coming down last weekend was titled Comics for the Very Young. I have never really  been a fan of comics but I am a fan of the very young so I figured I would go in with an open mind. And in doing so, I certainly learned a lot. Among the things I learned was that I actually am a fan of comics- maybe especially for the very young.

I often appeal to parents and children to continue reading nursery rhymes. I think to many, these old fashioned verses seem too, well, old fashioned. But the benefit of reading, memorizing and reciting nursery rhymes is ever present.

Reading nursery rhymes to babies is terribly important. Mother Goose rhymes sound, in rhythm, like the beat-beat-beat of a mother’s heart. In this way babies who hear these rhymes as they are rocked and held, learn to associate rhymes with happiness allowing nursery rhymes to lay the foundation for a lifetime love of literature.

Reading these ryhmes to babies seems natural to most parents but as children get older, it gets easier to ignore this important segment of literature. And in doing so, we are ignoring an important part of our children’s literacy development.  Research, in fact, states that

“Early knowledge of nursery rhymes was strongly and specifically related to development of more abstract phonological skills  and of emergent reading abilities.”

  (Maclean, Bryant and Bradley, 1987)

When encouraging parents to read nursery rhymes to their toddlers and pre-schoolers, I have always felt lucky to have Nina Crews’ books to recommend. After all, who won’t love The Neighborhood Mother Goose

 

 

with all it’s contemporary photographs accompanying the old rhymes?

Now I feel even luckier to enjoy and recommend Nursery Rhyme Comics. This lovely book pairs traditional rhymes with comics illustrated by some of today’s most popular cartoonists.

Be sure to include this book in your next library bag or shopping cart. And if you aren’t a fan of comics, you have all the more reason to give it a try. You won’t be disappointed…

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On Monday, I wrote about my first experience at Bookfest. I felt I had so much to say that I couldn’t fit it all in one post so this is Bookfest- Take Two.

After our key note, the group split into break out sessions. I chose the session titled, Transitions: Briding the Gap between Easy Readers and Chapter Books. We had been asked to read many titles ahead of time from The Time Warp Trio: Summer Reading is Killing Me to Keena Ford: Field Trip Mix Up.  With a shared knowledge base, the group had an interesting discussion about their favorites and how they appeal to this group of readers.

I have always used the term easy chapter books to describe these types of titles but am now drawn to the title bridge books. In our group we discussed the importance of appealing to the readers on the bridge…those children who are transitioning into chapter books. Our facilitator stated that if children don’t make the transition from easy readers into chapter books, they’ve lost their chance to grow into readers.  I don’t agree with this as I think the right adult can really motivate a child to love reading at any age but I do agree with the importance of these types of books.

There is a big difference between easy readers and chapter books. Readers need a comfortable place to rest in between. In coming weeks, I will post more about bridge books as I grow my own list of the best of the best. Which bridge books would be on your list of favorites? Feel free to leave titles in the comments section…

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Here is our posed Halloween picture of our ‘butterfly fairy’ and ‘vampire.’

But here is the picture I really like. Notice, Katherine’s happy pose and Caroline’s disgust that I would take a picture in public. More of these to come I imagine.

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This weekend I attended the most wonderful event. BookFest.

In case the name doesn’t just say it all,

“BookFest is an event devoted to the celebration, discovery, and discussion of books for children and teens. This event, designed for adults, features luminaries from the children’s literature community. Authors, illustrators, editors, reviewers, and scholars will take part in panel discussions and breakout sessions.

BookFest was founded in 1971, by Frances Henne, a faculty member of the School of Library Service at Columbia University. The event was originally known as Let’s Talk About Books for Children and Youth Day, or Velma Varner Day, in honor of Henne’s close friend and colleague, Velma Varner, editor of Viking Press. The event has been hosted by Columbia University, Teachers College, and the New York Public Library. Bank Street College of Education is very proud to become a producer of this wonderful event.”

I mean really. Can you imagine anything better?

I saw and learned so much that that this will be the first in a series of posts this week- perhaps with a bit of interruption from the necessary Halloween pictures and an exciting guest post on a friend’s blog.

So where to begin? I suppose at the beginning.

And what a beginning! It has been years and years and years since I first read the Phantom Tollbooth but I remembered it fondly. Now I can’t wait to re-read it. I listened in awe for an hour as Leonard Marcus  led a discussion with Norton Juster and Jules Feiffer. Very quickly, it became obvious that we were being treated to an hour of eavesdropping. Eavesdropping on two old friend reliving the good old days.

Juster and Feiffer were roommates in Brooklyn in the 1950s. During this time, Juster, an architect by training, received a grant to write a book on city design. Instead, he spent most of his time drafting the Phantom Tollbooth. A friend showed his draft to an editor and without any plan at all of doing so, he became a children’s  book author. At the same time, Feiffer stumbled unknowingly into illustration.  A comic strip illustrator by plan, he enjoyed playing with the illustrations of his friend’s story. Over time, Juster began writing things that he knew Feiffer hated to draw, like horses, just for the fun of it. Today, authors and illustrators often have never met. I find that sometimes in reading, this fact is  painfully obvious. Imagine the wonderful tales that would be told if all creative endeavors were like the Phantom Tollbooth.

After letting us in on the creation of this wonderful tale, Juster and Feiffer spent time talking about their views on education. I came away from this conversation realizing that the debate on education will never truly be resolved. The two talked about their struggles in school to spit back the facts that their teachers wanted to hear. And then they railed against the lack of creativty in schools today. Sounds like not much has really changed… Sigh.

And then some of the most thought provoking part of the hour focused on community. Feiffer stated that “youngish people have been de-citizenized” as they know little of times before them and are largely unconnected from their communities. Juster told the story of walking down his Brooklyn block as a child and stopping at each stoop to listen to people talk about politics, entertainment and neighborhood gossip. He went on to wonder about our children that our missing this beloved sense of community.

I sat with this, feeling sad for myself and my girls- until a woman raised her hand and said, “There is great community in Facebook and Twitter. These kids have community. It looks very, very different but they have community.”

And I sighed a deep sigh of relief because she is right. We do have community. A very different and strange community but a community none the less.

So to my community,  I hope you enjoyed our talk sitting here on the stoop that is my blog.

 

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Katherine is going to Abma’s Farm tomorrow on her first field trip. As she said at dinner tonight, it is “the first field trip of her life.” I’m not sure what she is more excited to do- take the bus, go on a hay ride, choose a pumpkin or see the animals. She has been counting down the days since the start of the week. And she has been talking non-stop about all the fun she is anticipating.

And then came the best part. Tonight Katherine chose The Cow Loves Cookies as our before bed read aloud. “Because we’re going to a farm on our field trip!” she said. She is celebrating life through her book choices. It really doesn’t get much better than that.

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I attended an interesting session about student vocabulary development at the Teacher’s College Reading and Writing Project Saturday Reunion this past weekend. One of the points I took away was that we, as adults, need to think constantly about the words we use around children. If we want children to speak with more precise and intriguing words, we need to model their use.

I was reminded of this fact during a conversation I had with Katherine this evening.

Me: Remember the time that you and Jason watched a worm walk all the way from the pool to the grass. It took that little guy forever to get there.

Katherine: Worms don’t walk.

Me: Oh right. You guys watched the worm crawl to the grass.

Katherine: Mom! Worms don’t have knees. They don’t  crawl.

Me: My goodness! You’re right. You watched the worm slither.

And with that, Katherine was satisfied and I was provided with a good reminder to raise the bar even when talking about worms.

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Yesterday was just crazy. Between 5:50pm and 7:30pm we had to be a million places at once.  I am usually very protective of this time of day so everyone was really thrown for a loop. During all the running around we talked about the fact that I would be happy to write a note to Caroline’s teacher id she was unable to complete her reading log for the night. We have done this in the past and her teacher has been more than flexible and understanding . I figured I had at least that part of the evening under control.

Fast forward to Caroline actually having time to read and then refusing to fill out the reading log saying,  “Reading logs are dumb.”

Now, I happen to agree with Caroline and I’ve had a lengthy conversation with her teacher about just this topic. I have also talked with the teachers I work with, other principals and my friends. I’ve probably even talked about it with people I hardly know. It’s one of those things for me.

I believe professionally that children should log their independent reading time in school. It’s important for teachers to see what children are reading, how long it’s taking them to read and what books they stick with and which they abandon. And I believe both personally and professionally that it’s important for children to be held accountable to their reading at home as well. Reading at home is such a majorly important part of becoming a reader.

But… I do not believe that children should complete reading logs at home. When was the last time that you read a good book snuggled under your covers and then wrote down the time you started and finished reading and the number of pages you had read? Obviously, the answer is never.

I strongly believe that reading at home should be an authentic and enjoyable experience. I think that reading logs are a turn off for the non-readers and are completely unnecessary for the readers. I think that children should be talking about their books, recommending them to others or finding out more information about the author on-line. I think children should be doing exactly what adults do when they finish a good book. And that is not completing a reading log.

So blog readers, log your opinion below…

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I’m not sure how I missed knowing Naomi Shahib Nye but I’m awfully glad I found her this weekend at the Columbia Teacher’s College Reading and Writing Project’s Saturday Reunion.

Naomi presented the morning keynote and her words were every bit as inspiring as a good keynote should be.

Because I was so touched by hearing some of Naomi’s work for the first time, I am going to post two selections here. While I could go on and on about what I learned while listening to her words, I feel like if you don’t know Naomi’s work, you should hear about her from her own writing.

So enjoy….

Gate 4-A

Wandering around the Albuquerque Airport Terminal, after learning my flight had been detained four hours, I heard an announcement: “If anyone in the vicinity of Gate 4-A understands any Arabic, please come to the gate immediately.”  Well – one pauses these days. Gate 4-A was my own gate. I went there. An older woman in full traditional Palestinian embroidered dress, just like my grandma wore, was crumpled to the floor, wailing loudly. “Help,” said the Flight Service Person. “Talk to her. What is her problem?  We told her the flight was going to be late and she did this.”  I stooped to put my arm around the woman and spoke to her haltingly. “Shu dow-a, Shu-bid-uck Habibti? Stani schway, Min fadlick, Shu-bit-se-wee?” The minute she heard any words she knew, however poorly used, she stopped crying. She thought the flight had been cancelled entirely. She needed to be in El Paso for major medical treatment the next day. I said, “You’re fine, you’ll get there, who is picking you up? Let’s call him.” We called her son and I spoke with him in English. I told him I would stay with his mother till we got on the plane and would ride next to her – Southwest.

She talked to him. Then we called her other sons just for fun. Then we called my dad and he and she spoke for a while in Arabic and found out of course they had ten shared friends.  Then I thought just for the heck of it why not call some Palestinian poets I know and let them chat with her? This all took up about two hours. She was laughing a lot by then. Telling about her life, patting my knee, answering questions.  She had pulled a sack of homemade mamool cookies – little powdered sugar crumbly mounds stuffed with dates and nuts – out of her bag – and was offering them to all the women at the gate.  To my amazement, not a single woman declined one. It was like a sacrament. The traveler from Argentina, the mom from California, the lovely woman from Laredo – we were all covered with the same powdered sugar. And smiling. There is no better cookie. And then the airline broke out the free beverages from huge coolers and two little girls from our flight ran around serving us all apple juice and they were covered with powdered sugar too. And I noticed my new best friend – by now we were holding hands – had a potted plant poking out of her bag, some medicinal thing, with green furry leaves. Such an old country traveling tradition. Always carry a plant. Always stay rooted to somewhere. And I looked around that gate of late and weary ones and thought, this is the world I want to live in.  The shared world. Not a single person in this gate – once the crying of confusion stopped – seemed apprehensive about any other person. They took the cookies. I wanted to hug all those other women too. This can still happen anywhere. Not everything is lost.

Valentine for Ernest Mann
by Naomi Shihab Nye

You can’t order a poem like you order a taco.
Walk up to the counter, say, “I’ll take two”
and expect it to be handed back to you
on a shiny plate.

Still, I like your spirit.
Anyone who says, “Here’s my address,
write me a poem,” deserves something in reply.
So I’ll tell you a secret instead:
poems hide. In the bottoms of our shoes,
they are sleeping. They are the shadows
drifting across our ceilings the moment
before we wake up. What we have to do
is live in a way that lets us find them.

Once I knew a man who gave his wife
two skunks for a valentine.
He couldn’t understand why she was crying.
“I thought they had such beautiful eyes.”
And he was serious. He was a serious man
who lived in a serious way. Nothing was ugly
just because the world said so. He really
liked those skunks. So, he re-invented them
as valentines and they became beautiful.
At least, to him. And the poems that had been hiding
in the eyes of skunks for centuries
crawled out and curled up at his feet.

Maybe if we re-invent whatever our lives give us
we find poems. Check your garage, the odd sock
in your drawer, the person you almost like, but not quite.
And let me know.

 

 

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