Some standard teacher tasks still overwhelm me. Lesson planning is one such task. While I was working on my master's, our literacy class was asked to develop a week's worth of informal literacy lesson plans during yesterday's class. My group was excited to dive into something so obviously practical and useful. We reviewed the examples of daily schedules and literacy blocks we'd been given by our professor, leafed through the books and supplies we were to use in our lessons (an insect and butterfly theme), and quickly became activity generating machines!
We could visit the community garden! Or a butterfly house! Plant butterfly-attracting plants at school! Have caterpillars in the classroom! Create a paper and felt garden with the class!The kids could create pretend seed packets and plant stakes! A gardening themed play center!
Fortunately, it didn't take us long to realize that, while we were not lacking enthusiasm about our topic, we'd forgotten our goal: to create literacy lesson plans. This, I think (I hope) is a common pitfall for novices. We're so excited about getting into a classroom and teaching kids new things that we lose sight of the vital structure that makes a classroom enriching, not enraging.
Back on track, we focused on developing specific types of literacy activities that matched our theme. We could write about where the butterflies in Waiting for Wings go once they are fully grown. We could raise caterpillars in the classroom and write down our observations as they changed from larva to caterpillar to butterfly. Word work would focus on breaking apart and assembling -ing words. Lessons were actually starting to take shape.
A very helpful reminder came from our professor at the end of class. She said two things I'll need to remember to keep myself from going crazy. First, it doesn't need to be cute for the sake of being cute, and next, building one richly connected literacy unit a year is plenty. I should not try to have an entire school year of in-depth cross-curricular units created my first year teaching.
Briefly, I was overwhelmed by this experience. I worried that even my enthusiasm was now a potential handicap. Now though, my take away is this: when it comes to teaching, too much enthusiasm is less of a problem than not enough.
We could visit the community garden! Or a butterfly house! Plant butterfly-attracting plants at school! Have caterpillars in the classroom! Create a paper and felt garden with the class!The kids could create pretend seed packets and plant stakes! A gardening themed play center!
Fortunately, it didn't take us long to realize that, while we were not lacking enthusiasm about our topic, we'd forgotten our goal: to create literacy lesson plans. This, I think (I hope) is a common pitfall for novices. We're so excited about getting into a classroom and teaching kids new things that we lose sight of the vital structure that makes a classroom enriching, not enraging.
Back on track, we focused on developing specific types of literacy activities that matched our theme. We could write about where the butterflies in Waiting for Wings go once they are fully grown. We could raise caterpillars in the classroom and write down our observations as they changed from larva to caterpillar to butterfly. Word work would focus on breaking apart and assembling -ing words. Lessons were actually starting to take shape.
A very helpful reminder came from our professor at the end of class. She said two things I'll need to remember to keep myself from going crazy. First, it doesn't need to be cute for the sake of being cute, and next, building one richly connected literacy unit a year is plenty. I should not try to have an entire school year of in-depth cross-curricular units created my first year teaching.
Briefly, I was overwhelmed by this experience. I worried that even my enthusiasm was now a potential handicap. Now though, my take away is this: when it comes to teaching, too much enthusiasm is less of a problem than not enough.