TUTUS AREN'T MY STYLE- Linda Skeers

I stumbled onto TUTUS AREN'T MY STYLE on Thursday afternoon. I was visiting a first/second grade class and arrived just in time for read aloud. One of the children had chosen TUTUS AREN'T MY STYLE from a rack of new books that Mrs. J had checked out from her public library. I glanced at the cover, and then at my audience of very wiggly boys and thought, "Uh-oh." I scanned the shelf for other options, and picked up a couple, only to have the class inform me that they had already heard those. Giving a little mental sigh, I sat down in the chair, preparing for a read aloud disaster (ok, so to those of you who are still reading, and are making judgments about pseudo administrators who sigh when they have to read to kids- I love, love, love, love, love reading aloud. If someone told me that I could spend my life traveling from venue to venue reading, I would be a happy woman. And I'm generally pretty good at picking out perfect books for different audiences. I rarely read aloud books that I have not already read myself. Or books that I don't like. And yes, I know that books can be read and enjoyed more than one time).

Anyway, back to TUTUS--
Emma, clad in red cowboy boots, is hunting for bugs and pirate treasure in the front yard, when when the mailman delivers a package from her favorite uncle. She opens it to discover a frilly pink ballet costume. Emma has never really viewed herself as a ballerina, but wants to please Uncle Leo, so with a little advice from the mailman, as well as a neighbor walking her dogs, she takes on this new challenge. With an Emma-ish twist.

The results are predictable. First Emma, accompanied by the family cat, tries dancing outside, but crashes into a flowerbed. Ballet is supposed to be accompanied by music, so Emma gets out her kazoo, which unfortunately (though much to the delight of my seven and eight-year-old audience) sounds a little like burping. When Uncle Leo arrives, Emma is less than prepared to put on a performance…But, as you might expect, there's a really fun twist to the ending…

When we are done with the read aloud, Mrs. J asks if I will review story elements. We use "superstar comprehension" to run through the basics- character, setting, problem, and solution, and then because I am always curious about what children take away from books (and I'm totally fine if all they take away is a great story), I ask kids about the theme or life lesson. "You get what you get, and you don't throw a fit!" suggests the burly, football playing E-man. "When someone gives you a present, even if it isn't what you wanted, you are supposed to be grateful," says A., who is supposedly one of the lowest readers in the class. "Everybody doesn't have to dance the same or be the same," declared the spectacled, serious Miss C.

A really fun read with some pretty great life lessons!

YUMMY: THE LAST DAYS OF A SOUTHSIDE SHORTY- G Neri

Review copy provided by Lee and Low

I've spent my entire career in urban schools. And I love them. I love teaching kids who really need me. Kids who haven't heard stories read aloud. Kids who aren't enrolled in umpteen after school lessons and clubs and team . Kids who don't travel every vacation. Kids who need me.

This year, though, has been particularly hard. There is a new hard story every single day. A grieving eight-year-old whose brother died in a drive by shooting at a nearby strip mall. Two little guys being raised by a pregnant teenage sister. A "family" of what seems like twenty people living in a thousand square foot bungalow, with seven or eight assorted kids that come to school and are supposed to function, despite not having slept in beds, or been fed anything that closely resembles nutritional meals.

I believe in books. Believe that they have the power to help kids see bigger worlds. The power to transform. Or sometimes just the power to escape the hard worlds they live in. But I'm having trouble this year finding books that match my kids' lives.

This weekend, I read a graphic novel that I will be taking to school to share with our intermediate grade students. YUMMY: The Last Days of a Southside Shorty, by G. Neri, is the true story of Robert "Yummy" Sandifer," an eleven-year-old gang member, growing up in the projects of Chicago. Yummy was being raised by his grandmother, who was also raising about twenty other grandchildren.

When Yummy was nine or ten, he joined the Black Disciples Nation gang. The gangs liked the younger boys because at that age, the boys could commit crimes, but could not be convicted of felonies. One day, in a street fight gone awry, Yummy shoots and kills Shavon Dean, an innocent fourteen-year-old who hoped to become a beautician. The story, told through the eyes of Roger, one of Yummy's classmates, might help one of my students to make safer, wiser choices. It might help kids or teachers to see a child through different eyes. It might keep one child out of gangs.

Yummy is a book that my students need.

ALFIE RUNS AWAY- Kenneth Cadow

Alfie does not like to take baths, make his bed, eat potatoes, or set the table. When his mother tries to throw away his favorite red shoes, Alfie decides things have gone too far, and makes plans to run away. He packs a water bottle, a box of crackers, a flashlight, three books, and his teddy bear and heads out to find a place where people don't make kids throw away their favorite, albeit too-small red shoes. The bag is a little heavy, however, so he settles down on a blanket in the yard…

I read ALFIE to a first grade class on the last day of school. It was 90 degrees outside, and almost that warm in our hundred year old, non air-conditioned building. The kids were excited and/or worried about getting out of school for the summer. Even so, this book brought forth lots of rich conversations. Everyone, of course, had a running away story to tell. There were also several favorite shoe stories. The kids had lots of great wonderings and comments about the book. J thought the mom was not really doing her job- she wanted the mom to lock the door and tell Alfie he couldn't go anywhere. K thought the mom should just tell Alfie they could go get new shoes, exactly like the old ones if he wanted them. M thought the mom should sneak into Alfie's room while he was asleep and replace the old shoes with new ones. P said, "I bet his mom is just trying to outsmart him. She probably knows he isn't going anywhere very far. Or if he does, she will follow him and bring him back when he gets tired."

Books as a way of helping kids explore big issues like the love of a parent or growing up… Could there be anything better?

MARTHA DOESN'T SAY SORRY- Samantha Berger

Martha is a spunky little otter, kind of a cross between Ian Falconer's Olivia and Kevin Henkes' Lily. On one particularly rough day, she spills cake batter on her mother, paints her father's back red, and wakes her baby brother during nap time. Sent to time out, she stubbornly refuses to apologize. She changes her tune, however, when she realizes that people who don't apologize don't get cookies from their mothers, or piggyback rides from their dads, or hugs from their baby brothers.

I love everything about Martha- her pink dress with the Peter Pan collar and headband, her spunky attitude, and her stubborn streak. The illustrations are lots of fun- I especially love the one where Martha is reading HARRY OTTER! I know kids are going to flat out love the story, but I also know the book is going to lead to great discussions about how we treat each other, and why it's important to apologize when you make a mistake. Can't wait to share this new find with kids!

Lessons from a Beer Goddess

 Yesterday, I met a beer goddess. Isaiah and I were supposed to work from 10-6 in the water booth at the Taste of Colorado. When we arrived, we were told water was a slow venue and we would have lots of opportunities to wander around, see the booths, etc. About 15 minutes into our shift, Nicole, the tattoed, nose-ringed, purple-haired beverage supervisor and beer goddess,  informed us that the other family from our high school had not shown up, and someone was going to have to help at the beer station.

Let me back up a little bit. I hate beer- the smell of it, the taste of it, everything about it. In high school, when keggers were the big thing, I would go, take a couple of sips to look cool, then carry a warm beer around in my hand all night, just to look cool. In college, everyone told me I would acquire a taste for it. I never did. I don't think I've poured a beer since college. 

That's not entirely true. Two weeks ago, I had to work at a Bronco game at Invesco Field. I was a cashier, but the cashiers also had to pour beer. I was terrible. I tried to follow the directions on the "How to Pour a Perfect Beer" on the wall, but my beers foamed, overflowed, spilled. My 15-year-old food runner spent half, maybe even more than half, his time, mopping up beer spills.  Afterwards, I emailed the person in charge of our Invesco fundraiser and said I was willing to help again, but could I please, please, please be a cook, or dishwasher, or anything but a cashier/beer pourer.

But there were no beer pourers, and we were responsible for that booth, so I became a beer pourer. Nicole looked a little dubious, when I told her I was not very good at pouring beer. "Carol," she said, "let me show you. It's not really that hard." She adjusted her cigarette, and flexed her tattooed arm. "First you open the tap. Let it run until the beer hits the bucket. Then stick the glass underneath. Keep it tipped so the beer hits the side of the glass.  The beer doesn't like to go far, so ya gotta keep the glass close to the tap. Now, when it starts to fill up, close the tap. See, ya got it. The perfect beer. Now you do it."

I remembered my experiences from Invesco. Didn't think I really could pour a perfect beer. Really wanted to go back and hang out at the water stand. But I tried it anyway, while Nicole, cigarette dangling, watched. I opened up the tap. Stuck the glass under too soon. Got a glass of foam. "No," said Nicole, shoving the glass away. "Remember, the foam has to come out. Let it hit the bucket, then stick the glass under. "Just throw that one away," she said, as I attempted to redeem a glass that was three-fourths foam. The next beer, I concentrated on one thing- sticking the glass under at the right time, and sure enough, it made a difference. 

For the first few customers, Nicole poured the beer. I watched, and thought about opening the tap, and keeping the glass close because the beer didn't like to go far. Then Nicole said, "Can you grab this one for me?" And I did. And it worked. And I poured beers for eight hours straight. Hundreds of them. No breaks. And a few were foamy, but most were ok. Nicole had a seemingly endless stream of friends, who all had as many tattoos as she did, who showed up at the booth every 30 minutes or so. Every time a friend showed up, she would take a break. And I poured beer. By myself.  And did just fine. 

So what is  a post about beer pouring have to do with teaching kids to read and write? A lot I think. 

1) Teachers have to be learners. We have to learn something new, I used to say at least once a year, but now I'm thinking every few months. We have to know the scariness of learning something new.

2) Teachers have to learn something outside their comfort zone. This blog has been a learning experience for me, but it's not a totally new thing. I already know how to use the computer. I am already a reasonably proficient writer.  That gives me a safety net. Yesterday, in beer land, I had no safety net. And it was scary.

3) Teachers need to experience failure regularly, so we can understand the hearts of kids who come into our classrooms that history. Yesterday, as I walked over to the beer stand, all I could think about was how bad I had been at Invesco, and how embarrassing it had been. I really didn't want to try again. I suspect there are lots of kids in our classrooms that feel that same way.  Then we wonder why they act out or shut down.

4) For some learners, information needs to be presented in more than one way and more than one time.  The "How to Pour a Perfect Beer" poster on the wall at Invesco, had step-by-step pictures and explicit directions. I read the poster. I tried to follow the directions. I still couldn't do it. 

5) Explicit verbal directions can act as a mediator for behavior. But not too many. Nicole was very explicit. Very concrete. Very succinct. Let the beer hit the bucket. Hold the glass close. Tip the glass. I repeated those directions over and over to myself, for about the first hundred glasses of beer. They worked. 

6) It's ok to start over. My first glass was 3/4 foam. Nicole pushed it aside. "Just put that one down. We'll throw it out. Here, try again." Sometimes I think we work too hard to redeem a failed piece of writing. Sometimes, it would would be better to just start over. 

7) Quick success is important for struggling learners. I knew I couldn't pour beer- I  had experienced eight hours of continuous failure two weeks earlier at Invesco. I don't think I had the ego to fail many times yesterday.  Nicole stood right there. Watched me. Monitored. I experienced success on the second glass. If I had failed more than a few times, I don't think I would have lasted at the beer booth all day.

8) Struggling learners need to feel needed. I was willing to try pouring beer was because there was no one else  available. In our classrooms, that's not true. There is usually always someone around who can read or write. Struggling readers and writers don't feel like they are needed members of the community. I need to think more about how I can address this.  

Everything didn't go smoothly yesterday. The taps ran out and spurted beer more than once. At one point, there was too much air in the lines, and nothing anyone, not even Nicole the Beer Goddess, did, could get a decent beer. We ran out of glasses. But the day went ok. I survived. I poured beer. I'm ready to go back to Invesco for the next Bronco home game.  And I will be  a better reading teacher tomorrow, thanks to today's lessons from Nicole the Beer Goddess.