Excuse Me, Miss Ritson
Ever since I was nine or ten I’ve had a mental picture of what “my classroom” would look like. Since I’ve started uni, I’ve also populated it with an imaginary class and developed an idea of what my role is in that room.
The bell rings: Fifteen five- to seven-year-olds are in clusters around the room. A group of three children sit on bright cushions in the book corner, laughing over the pages of a big book, chanting the words they know off by heart. Two kindergarteners are building a fort out of giant wooden blocks, there are a few students playing games on the classroom computers, and two girls are writing on the board with rainbow markers. One student is showing his mother the displays around the room, proudly pointing to his own illustrated retelling. The tables are clustered together towards the back of the room, inviting students to work together as they learn, and leaving plenty of space for group activities on the floor – circle games, drama, shared reading.
My classroom is a place where children are immersed in opportunities to explore, experiment with and most of all to enjoy texts in all forms and from all perspectives – as writers and creators and as viewers and readers. There are activities to engage the wide range of abilities and learning styles in my small class, and the students love learning together and helping each other discover new words, new books and new ways to explore literacy. There are limitless connections to be made between real life and classroom learning, and every person brings something different to even the simplest exercise – something that can be harnessed to promote learning (van Kraayenoord, 2007). My class values that diversity, and embraces it as yet another aspect of learning and life to explore.
It sounds rather idealistic, doesn’t it? But I believe that by having this committed, excited and immersive attitude from educators, and by engaging students in learning that is meaningful, successful and interesting for them, they will learn. More importantly, they will want to learn (Nagan, 1994).
So tell me… Do you have an absolute favourite or totally terrible memory of literacy at school to share?
March 26th, 2010 at 5:14 pm
I know this is a narrow view on your term for literacy in the classroom, but I used to absoutely love afternoon silent reading time in all the grades, and used to hate the days (Wednesday and Friday I think) where the half hour block of silent reading wasn’t implemented. grrr. The other kids would giggle, or rolls their eyes staring around the room absolutely bored. While I knew it was just a cheap and easy fill in time thing to settle the kids down after lunch, I felt like the teacher knew how much I enjoyed this period, and encouraged others to stick to it (yeah, yeah ego-centric much?).
Funnily enough, that classroom you described is what I did in kindergarten, lol. Except the rainbow drawing on the board, I never got that.
Oh I remember how proud I was in Prep that I was the only kid in the classroom that correctly spelt “video” with no help, or dictionary, cos the teacher said it was a “Grade 1/2″ word. lol.
March 26th, 2010 at 5:16 pm
oh, I also wanted to add that I absolutely love these pics! they’re so kids book like, it’s awesome! Maybe a missed chance at being an illustrator :-p
March 28th, 2010 at 9:45 pm
I don’t think silent reading is always used as a ‘cheap and easy’ time filler/settler after lunch. Any time when a teacher can get children to sit and engage with texts is one step closer to helping kids enjoy and want to get better at reading. Also – if the teacher is doing her job, there should be a chance for her to spend some time one-on-one with most students through the week, and give the students who need it more support! She not only gets calmer kids after lunch, but the opportunity to see if anyone is struggling more than she thought, or figure out what interests the kids. Sorry to burst your bubble, but she probably thought the others needed it more, and that’s why she insisted!
Hehe, your pride in spelling video is only equalled by my teacher in grade seven informing me (with the precaution that I wasn’t supposed to know) that I had a spelling age of sixteen. Or being the only person to spell chlorofluorocarbons in grade 4! A lot of my literacy successes are about spelling, actually…
March 28th, 2010 at 10:05 pm
Hehe… Thanks for the picture compliment, as well!
It’s never too late, unless I die before I get my kids book published! My art has a long way to go before I get there, though!