Non-Literacy Blog, Observed

Last week I was observed by my Field Instructor. It was my first observation. The lesson was one that I wrote as an extension to the Read Aloud of The Ant and The Elephant, by Bill Peet. As a requirement for our Professional Seminar class, I was also filmed.

I was able to quickly tune both the field instructor and the camera out of my thoughts. So, I can't blame them for my many mistakes.

The lesson started with a brief re-introduction to the book. During the Read Aloud, I had neglected to tell the students who wrote the book. This was a nice opportunity to rectify that omission. I then wrote the words ant and elephant on the board. I told the students that I saw something interesting about these two words and wondered if they saw it, too. I was expecting this to take some time and was prepared for my next clue, "you must be observant in order to see this" while writing the new word on the board. However, a student instantly raised her hand and announced that elephant has the letters ant in it. So I quickly modified my clue to tell this student that she was very observant to see what I was talking about.

As a whole group we brainstormed words that have the letter sequence of ant in them. I thought that this, too, would take some time and I had a long list of my own words in case the students couldn't come up with any. Instead, they began listing words that I hadn't even thought of, including Santa. Next, I had planned that we would work together to come up with a sentence using two or three of these words. And, once again, I expected us to struggle somewhat. Instantly a hand went up. A student said, " The giant was chanting in the pantry." Pleasantly surprised, I wrote this sentence on the board. The students then partnered with their neighbor to come up with a sentence. I didn't expect them all to want to share. Instead, I found every student's hand in the air, wanting to tell their sentence, especially once the sentences became really silly, such as "The giant ant ate Santa's pants." There were a lot of sentences with ants in pants.

Finally, it was time for desk work. I had distributed a sheet of writing paper at each student's spot. The students were to return to their seats to write and illustrate their own sentence. In the process of explaining these directions, I said something that made them think they had been dismissed. But in my mind I hadn't yet done so. The result was that students were returning to their desk with me giving the directions to their backs. I know that I should have halted the exodus, but I instead let them get back to their seats and then asked for their attention in order to explain the purpose of the paper waiting at their desk.

And, at that point, I was done. My lesson was officially over and I was expecting the field instructor to motion me into the hall where we would go over his notes. Instead, he continued to observe and take more notes. I was hoping that my master teacher would take over, but she continued to work quietly at her desk. I was still in charge, but I desperately wanted not to be. It was, of course, a very good experience to have to work the follow-up to the lesson. What to do with students who finish early? What to do with those who can't get started?

The students seemed to enjoy writing their sentences, once they realized that silly was okay. The highlight for me was watching one student who always dawdles before getting to seat work and is easily distracted. This student set right to the task of writing his sentence and illustrating it. He seemed engaged and to genuinely enjoy what he was doing, something I had not seen in his previous writing assignments. I like to think that maybe, in my inexperienced way, I helped this one child at this one small moment realize that writing can be fun.