• Home
    Home This is where you can find all the blog posts throughout the site.
  • Categories
    Categories Displays a list of categories from this blog.
  • Tags
    Tags Displays a list of tags that have been used in the blog.
  • Bloggers
    Bloggers Search for your favorite blogger from this site.
  • Archives
    Archives Contains a list of blog posts that were created previously.
  • Login
    Login Login form
Recent blog posts
Posted by on in Early Childhood

Two weeks ago, I visited one of my student teachers in a room of young three’s. I noticed one of the activities on a table was tracing their printed names on strips of paper with pencils. During most of my hour there, I also noticed that only two of the thirteen children chose this activity, despite one of the teachers manning the table and repeatedly asking who wanted to join in this “fun activity.”

The two children who did come over showed considerable awkwardness getting control over the unwieldy long pencils in order to trace the letters. I called my student over to join my observation. Here was a great example of trying to skip some crucial steps towards a goal, which usually never works very well. And, when a child struggles with an activity, he will generally tend to avoid it in the future.

The hand and finger muscles of these young children are still pretty weak. Before they can successfully manipulate a pencil (or even a marker), they need some work using their whole hand and pincer grip. It’s kind of like learning to crawl before walking.

So, we still want them to practice making marks on paper, but not with long, skinny objects. What, then? Well, chubby crayons can be the answer here. But not a whole 4” chubby crayon. These should be chubby crayons with their jackets peeled off… broken into three pieces. My student immediate asked, “Why so small?” Good question!

Last modified on
Posted by on in Early Childhood

frustrated student

Pre-K is the growth sector of the privatized school industry. There's no existing institutional structure to sweep aside, and there's near-universal agreement that a good Pre-K foundation is important for all future success, coupled with research indicating that many of our children are already behind on the first day of kindergarten.

Unfortunately, "good Pre-K foundation" is a phrase that has been interpreted in some not-very-helpful ways by not-very-clever people with a not-very-deep understanding of what is developmentally appropriate for a four-year-old. Google "kindergarten is the new first grade" and you get over 5,000 results. Because some folks are just certain that what three- and four-year-olds need is academic preparation, direct instruction, and, of course, tests that let us measure the outcomes.

The research on the effectiveness is a huge muddy mess (made more muddy by the continued absence of a reliable and meaningful measure of school effectiveness in general). Some of the research has been rather alarmingly headline-generating, like the Stanford study that suggests that delayed kindergarten enrollment reduces the possibility of developing ADHD.

Now the folks at Defending the Early Years have published a short piece by Lilian Katz that provides a useful framework for explaining and understanding why some approaches to early childhood education are not useful.

Lilian Katz is professor emerita of early childhood education at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign as well as principal investigator for the Illinois Early Learning Project. Her study of and advocacy for early childhood education is extensive and spirited.

"Lively Minds: Distinctions between academic versus intellectual goals for young children" is a four page report with one page of cover and another one of endnotes-- so we can cut to the chase pretty quickly and easy. I've read it, but you should probably go ahead and read it, too.

First, Katz establishes what the goal for early childhood ed must be beyond a mix of free play and formal instruction:

In the early years, another major component of education (indeed for all age groups) must be to provide a wide range of experiences, opportunities, resources and contexts that will provoke, stimulate, and support children's innate intellectual disposition.

And then, as the title suggests. Katz distinguishes between academic and intellectual goals.

Academic goals are centered on "mastery of small discrete elements" usually connected to reading; these skills are subject to worksheets, drill, and other exercises aimed at literacy goals. "The items learned and practiced have correct answers, rely heavily on memorization, the application of formulae versus understanding, and consist largely of giving the teacher the correct answers that the children know she wants." So all the sit in your desk, do the tasks assigned, perform behaviors that please the teacher.

Intellectual goals "are those that address the life of the mind in its fullest sense (e.g. reasoning, predicting, analyzing, questioning, etc.) including a range of aesthetic and moral sensibilities."  This is about children making sense out of the world and pursuing their own curiosity.  Asking questions. Figuring it out. Analyzing and understanding ideas. This is about learning how to be fully human, how to be in the world.

Katz is not arguing that academics have no place in the early ed classroom. But she quickly and succinctly puts them in their proper place.

An appropriate curriculum in the early years is one that includes the encouragement and motivation of the children to seek mastery of basic academic skills, e.g. beginning writing skills, in the service of their intellectual pursuits.

I've talked about this for years-- one of the major problems of the modern reformy era is that it turns schools upside down. Students are made to serve the school instead of the other way around. Students must master skills and properly perform on tests because the school needs them to produce the "outcomes" that will allow the school to survive. Katz reminds us that it's supposed to be the other way around-- that the school serves the student by providing them with skills that the student can use to become her best, truest self and to carve out a place in the world. The purpose of teaching students this stuff is not so the student can perform for the school's benefit, but so that the skill and knowledge can benefit the student by helping the student create a life.

Katz follows up with a couple of other important points.

First, while it may be true thatstudents from poor backgrounds may lack early exposure to certain academic skills, it does not follow that "they lack the basic intellectual dispositions such as to make sense of experience, to analyze, hypothesize, predict." Even if they haven't been read to at home, Katz says, it is still reasonable and helpful to assume "that they too usually have lively minds."

Second-- well, second is a really a two-fer. Intellectual disposition can be damaged by "excessive and premature formal instruction," but it's not going to be strengthened by mindless or banal activities (she cites a year-long sharing time built around teddy bears). Do meaningful stuff. Or as we like to say in my family, children may be young, but they aren't dopes. They're just tiny human with fewer skills and less live experience.

Katz next looks at short- and long-term effects of early academic instruction. She notes that while there is research to support the notion that early brain stimulation is good for early brain development, there is no real reason to believe that academic instruction qualifies as brain stimulation. The differences that show up in research about the long-term effects of early education seem to Katz to be linked to what kind of instruction we're talking about.

Short term "benefits" can be shown from formal instruction aka basic test prep; more test prep = better test results-- oops, I mean, of course, "increased student achievement." So short term this sort of crap-- oops, I mean, this instructional model-- looks like it's working, but in the long term, not so much. In other words, the damage isn't evident till later.

Also-- and this was a surprise-- it appears that early formal instruction is in the long run more damaging to boys than to girls. This could be neurological (girls brains grow faster) or social (girls are more often taught to be compliant and passive). We don't really know yet.

Katz' recommendation is brief and clear:

Early childhood curriculum and teaching methods are likely to be best when they address children's lively minds so that they are quite frequently fully intellectually engaged.

Katz makes a lot of sense, and while she's a specialist in her particular field, I can't help noticing that much of what she says here about four-year-olds also applies to the sixteen-year-olds that enter my classroom every day.

Last modified on
Hits: 1669 Comments
Posted by on in Early Childhood

Have you ever read something that attached itself to you? You kept thinking about it and couldn't get away from it. That happened to me recently. I was reading through my list of blogs and came across a photo of an old poster that protested children working in textile mills. The quote on that poster floored me. I think my mouth dropped open. 

"The worst thief is he who steals the playtime of children." (W.D. Haywood)

I immediately thought about the current education system. Young children's play is being squeezed out (or just outright seized) for academics. To be ready for the future, children are losing their present opportunities to play. 

This quote kept playing over in my head. I wrote about it on my own blog. I thought about other things I've been reading about play and young children. And I kept coming back to that quote and what implications could be drawn. Current education practice is like the old days of child labor. Children are put in education "factories" and required to do more adult tasks while losing opportunities to play and discover and learn in more age-appropriate ways. And I was feeling a little smug about that. "I don't do that. I'm not like them."

Last modified on
Posted by on in Education Leadership

I can still remember everything that happened when the terrible tragedy of 9/11 happened fifteen years ago.  I was teaching high school mathematics, and one of my students, who had used the restroom pass, walked back in the classroom telling us that a plane hit one of the Twin Towers.  Without knowing what was really happening, I kept teaching the math lesson.  What seemed like a few minutes later, a student walking down the hallway passing my classroom announced another plane hit another building.

Confused, I glanced over at the TV mounted to the wall.  The TV was used for daily video announcements and certain, special events.  We did have access to a few news channels.  What seemed like a hypnotic conversation between the students and me to turn on the TV, I wasn't sure the protocol in this situation.  Abandon the math lesson, or look for a news station?

After glancing for a moment at the dry-erase board filled with equations and graphs, I walked towards the door and shut it.  The door created a seal between my class and the rest of the building, and an ability to create a perceived distance in my thoughts and actions.  I walked over to the TV and turned it on, so we could watch history unfold of a monumental moment for my life as well as my students.

Looking back now as an educational leader and administrator, I still wonder why I felt the need to pause in that decision to abandon the prepared lesson for a relevant, timely new one.  And, I wonder why I needed to close the door to feel freedom in doing the right thing.

Last modified on
Posted by on in Teaching Strategies

social media

My kids think I'm exaggerating. I'm not. I grew up without a cell phone. So, when I was away from home, I either didn't talk to anyone who wasn't with me (gasp) or I brought a quarter and used a pay phone. (What's that?) My first computer was practically the size of a smart car. I looked things up in books called encyclopaedias. I couldn't take a virtual tour of the MoMA from my sofa.  I could go on and on.  Life—such a cliché—was very different.

Nowadays, alerts, alarms, beeps, bleeps, tweets, nudges, and notifications are a part of life; they are our “normal”. Information travels at warp speed in a highly technological world—and we are constantly being notified about it. We live in a world of seemingly endless distractions. Those people who function best in this media mad world are those that live in a perpetual state of multi-tasking.

Here's the rub: nothing comes without a cost. It seems to me that our kids are missing out on important aspects of being and knowing if we do not explicitly balance out technological and cyber ways of learning with direct, body-based, and sensory types of learning experiences.

I wonder…

Last modified on