four&twenty

When the Schoolroom is a Mentor

Inside schoolroom spaces,

children

see

hear

touch

move freely

experience

discover

and respond!

As children engage with schoolroom spaces, learning becomes an active pursuit rather than a passive process.

Schoolroom spaces provide opportunities for the child to practice deep concentration.

Schoolroom spaces offer activities that are self-correcting for our little ones so that they may work on developing confidence through competency.

Schoolroom spaces are organized to encompass an age span. It is wonderful when the younger child experiences the daily stimulation of older role models, and wonderful when the older child beams in the responsibilities of leadership. Students not only learn with each other but also from each other.

Schoolroom spaces offer opportunities for observation. The process of investigation and discovery motivates the child. 

Schoolroom spaces provide opportunities for the older child to make choices for independent research that will spark curiosity, stir up the imagination and avoid the doldrums.

Schoolroom spaces elevate the child’s work. 

Inside schoolroom spaces learning blooms.

Running to Somewhere

A great story has something for everyone.

As a kid, I was jealous of Claudia. I mean what girl wouldn't want to stowaway in an art museum? And not just any art museum, we're talking the Met! 

“Claudia knew that she could never pull off the old-fashioned kind of running away. That is, running away in the heat of anger with a knapsack on her pack. She didn't like discomfort; even picnics were untidy and inconvenient: all those insects and the sun melting the icing on the cupcakes. Therefore, she decided that her leaving home would not be just running from somewhere but would be running to somewhere.”

This is the precise passage that captured my imagination as a young reader, and if I am being honest, it still intrigues me. In fact, I spend my days encouraging my students to grab hold of this concept of “running to somewhere.”

When we mentor with books, great characters, like Claudia, give young readers a reason to press into their imagination.

“Some days you must learn a great deal. But you should also have days when you allow what is already in you to swell up and touch everything. If you never let that happen, then you just accumulate facts, and they begin to rattle around inside of you.”  — E.L. Konigsburg   

This past year, I explored The Mixed-up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler again with my 5th grade reading circle—five boys. It was fun to watch them connect with different aspects of the story. While they unanimously disliked Claudia (she's a girl after all), they identified with Jamie. My youngest son Søren had this to say, “I liked the mysterious statue. Remember when Claudia and Jaime snuck a peak of the angel? I liked that part mom.”

I could not help but smile when my budding artist decided to sculpt an angel in the style of Michelangelo for his culminating project. Søren's imagination was not sparked in the same way that mine was as a child and this is a good thing, is precisely what I love about great stories. 

So Søren dove into what inspired him, found a Michelangelo(ish) image on his own to fashion his sculpture after. I did not have the heart to tell him that it is not a Michaelangelo in the midst of his creative process. I am glad that he discovered this on his own when he decided to do some research on the angel like Claudia and Jamie who went before him.

Now I know there is bias here, but in the end, I believe Soren's original work of art made of aluminum foil and paper towels surpasses the work being studied!

Søren's buddies thought his angel a masterful work of art. They even checked the base of his statue, just to make sure it was not a Michelangelo!

– Kim

The Book as Mentor

If we dig deep enough into the heart of a story, dig to its very core, I believe we will always spark curiosity. And when we press into that curiosity, we often discover a treasure to inform our own life. A good mentor leads us by the hand on an exploration of discovery that will make us a richer person.

As I am passing out the books and discovery guides, I introduce them to the story, “Allegra Leah Shapiro has been selected as a finalist in a prestigious violin competition and this stirs up all sorts of inner conflict.” 

Why does summer have to be so hectic? 

What does it mean to be half Jewish and half gentile? 

Why is soprano, Diedre, crying?

How can I be a twelve-year-old a violinist and have time to be a friend?

Why is my brother so annoying?

How has Mr. Trouble lost his song?

What is this gift from Bubbe Raisa?

And what of this great-grandmother I’ve been named after?

Will I be able to dig deep enough for Mozart?

Can I undo what has been done?

“The Mozart Season,” I tell them, “is a quiet story, one filled with resounding music that just might change your life.” I leave it there, hand them the book and tell them I am looking forward to what will unfold.

Five months later, I gather my group together to congratulate our writing and visual art students who were recognized regionally by Scholastic Alliance for Young Artists & Writers this year, plus two high school students who had work published in an international online literary journal.          

As I am handing out the awards, it dawns on me that four of the award winning projects began with the writers and artists responding to The Mozart Season and blossomed into something imaginatively original.

A great book can be a mentor.

Here you can view a short film inspired by the book as well as a beautiful piece of writing by a 6th grade student.

 

Gurgle gurgle, trickle trickle, swish swish swish, everything is music. The bubbling fountain sings a heart shattering song while the wind hums a chilling melody. Rain jolts in, dancing on its stony stage.  He stares into the shame of another day, where bold shapes of towering buildings blot out the rising sun. Glass windows taunt the morning dew. The dense noise of honking horns and blaring radios submerge as the day grows old, life in the city. It’s all a blur--work, school, play, eat, sleep--never ending cycle. Those who can’t keep up are thrown to the side. There are no second chances in the city. Money is what matters, money money money. Without money you can’t survive, no need for creativity in the city. So he has no purpose, The man, his music, and a violin.

ead the entire story by clickng here: Download The Green Violinist

Want to inspire your students to dig deeper? Consider exploring The Mozart Season (grades 5-8) using our Blackbird & Company Literature Discovery Guide.

Lost Wax: Connecting the Dots

Evelyn is a high school graduate. I closed the book on her transcript over a year ago. Recently she taught me how to connect the dots:

Ever since my mom introduced me to pysanky egg making many years ago, I have been hooked. When Easter rolls around I have my friends over to create these brilliantly dyed eggs. Every year I get better and better and learn more helpful techniques. This year I was so obsessed with making eggs I would stay up ‘till midnight painstakingly scratching on eggs with a wooden kiska.

Ukrainian egg making teaches patience. It’s a quiet, slow, endeavor but all the hard work and patience pays off. My favorite part of the process is when, after hours of work, I finally get to melt off the black wax with a candle and reveal the masterpiece!

A few years ago we suffered a pysanky egg tragedy: Years worth of eggs had been left on the kitchen table while we were out to dinner one night. We returned to a floor covered in smashed eggshells. Our dog Jack had smelled the eggs and jumped onto a chair to get to the top of the table. He crushed them all.

My mom cried. She’s never gotten over the loss. I, on the other hand, just wanted to punt Jack down the staircase.

Slowly we have begun to build up our pysanky egg collection…

I remember being on a Patricia Polacco roll one spring. After reading Rechenka’s Eggs to our group I heard Sara say, “We can do that.” 

The next thing I know we are blowing the insides out of eggs and teaching our primary aged children the art of batik. I find it interesting that the Ukrainian word “pysanky” comes from the verb “pysaty” which means to write. So picture teaching a group of 12 or so under ten-year-olds to write with wax on eggshells! Did I mention that there is fire involved in this activity? Yes, that’s right, fire.

Here’s the deal: children are capable. Was this activity chaotic? You bet. But not once did it cross our minds that this group of children was too young to engage in a sophisticated craft. We rarely purchased construction paper! Looking back those young children proved that focus is not the issue. Children possess an incredible store of focus power, but we deny them opportunity to demonstrate their prowess when we hand them coloring books.

The art of pysanky teaches patience, true. When pure white shells, a tiny surface of potential, are painstakingly decorated individuality emerges. As a teacher who’s a poet, I see a metaphor emerging.  

– Kim

Q&A With The Girls

 
Q. What sticks with you from your research of famous women?

A. Hannah: I remember clearly being confused about Polio when we read about Wilma Rudolph, but so impressed that she did not let this mysterious physical handicap stop her from winning gold. I remember making prairie bonnets and dresses when we read about Laura Ingalls Wilder and being thankful that she bothered to share her recollections of pioneer life with me. I remember wishing I could have been a stowaway in that plane with Amelia Earhart and Eleanor Roosevelt. I remember thinking how awful I would have felt in Faith Ringgold’s shoes when that teacher told her to give up her dream of becoming an artist because she had no talent… imagine that! Vivid among these memories is having the privilege of meeting Faith Ringgold and being able to share this thought with her in person. I remember making an appliqué wall hanging of Faith Ringgold inspired by her many quilt-paintings hanging in museums like the one I saw at The Metropolitan Museum of Art. I remember my mom reproducing my quilt in miniature so I could cut and paste the images onto greeting cards. I remember handing a stack of these cards tied neatly together with a bow to Faith Ringgold and showing her the quilt I made. I remember that the artist not only autographed my copy of her brand new book, The Invisible Princess, but also applauded my artwork. Research of famous women was an ongoing elementary assignment. That was more than ten years ago. After all this remembering what I remember most is that the assignment still matters.

A. Evelyn: I loved doing art projects to go with our write-ups on each famous woman in history. I clearly remember working on my watercolor of Amelia Earhart one night and showing it off proudly to my brother and his friend. I remember when Hannah and I sat together and traced drawings from the book about Wilma Rudolph and learned about her inspiring story of perseverance. I remember working on my art project for Faith Ringgold—it was a canvas divided into three sections depicting things I love—cooking, my friends, and art—and illustrating scenes that were important in Faith’s life. I remember specifically learning about how an art teacher told Faith Ringgold she could never become an artist because she didn’t know how to paint mountains. I thought that was so unfair because Faith had never even seen mountains before. Getting to actually meet Faith Ringgold and show her my art project, well, how many kids get that kind of opportunity? I was recently reading my college art appreciation book and I noticed artwork by Ringgold and I said to myself, “I’ve met her!” I remember learning about the first black woman millionaire, Madam C.J Walker. I liked learning about how she created beauty products for women. Entrepreneurial success stories have fascinated me ever since. I remember painting a portrait of Princess Diana and on “Person I Admire Day” dressing up like her. One not so fond memory is when I spent what seemed like hours crafting my write up on Louisa May Alcott and then accidentally feeding it through our paper shredder! These things happen! When we read about Rachel Carson, we participated in a coastal clean up day. I still carry with me striking memories from our research and art projects.

Researching Famous Women

Did you know that March is Women's History Month?

I stumbled upon one of my prized possessions the other day, paper and pencil in hand, a writer looking for creative inspiration. As I unfolded the mass of faded-yellow legal pad and saw Sara’s profuse notes staring back at me, I felt the smile stretch from ear to ear and was taken back to the summer of 1997. Who needs a time machine?  

Detail of Amelia Earhart project - pen, watercolor, corrugated cardboard, oil pastels

For the coming school year our desire was to continue to provide opportunities for directed year-long research. The intrinsic reward of this type of activity is that children discover over time to value work that is not instantaneous. Beyond that, the objective is to develop the muscle necessary for independent discovery, which will have a direct connection to critical thinking. But there’s always a twist.

Back in time, Sara and I are in my kitchen. Where else? Chattering away we are brainstorming. We want to inspire our young girls (then first and third graders) to follow the thread of perseverance to its logical conclusion. What if they engage in research of famous women from history who will model the skill? What if we use great picture books and incorporate sophisticated art materials? Yes! And of course it will be great fun! And, think about it, I mean, we will be exploring literature, and this is history too, right? Ah, the glory of cross-curricular activities!

So, with a baby on my hip stirring up dinner in a pot on the stove, I imagined with Sara, her legal pad in hand chock full of bibliographic lists of famous women biographies she had researched to get our girls started, we constructed a series of research questions that the girls would use to guide them in their research and developed a presentation format. We decided that, for each book read, our girls would write a report and craft a creative project depicting the famous woman.

Detail from Amelia and Eleanor Go For a Ride by Pam Munoz Ryan

Looking back, the trick to this kind of research is to be prepared. Because we had a plan, we were able to sit with our girls, take turns reading aloud with them, and guide them as they developed the skill gathering just the right tidbits about the famous woman’s life to include in their simple research paper. We had time to help them explore art materials such as paint and canvas, chalk pastels, and textiles. We were able to encourage them as they endeavored to craft a creative project that would not only celebrate each famous woman, but also would propel them into the process of seeing a creative work from the start to the finish line.

Set as a two hour per week activity, generally speaking, we read and wrote about one book per week unless the book was long, in which case this leg of the activity could take a couple weeks or more (the “there is no hurry” truth applies here), and we completed the artistic activity in two or three weeks. From there, it’s all, well, history.

Only looking back do I see the great pay-off, our girls, all grown now, Hannah is 21 and Evelyn is 19, are women that turn heads not only because they are lovely, but because they are busy following the thread of perseverance to its logical conclusion and are consequently girls who dare to dream.

– Kim

Detail of Faith Ringgold project - fabric wall hanging

Spread from Dinner at Aunt Connie's House by Faith Ringgold

Detail of Eleanor Roosevelt project - acrylic on canvas

Eleanor by Barbara Cooney


Detail of Wilma Rudolf project - colored pencil, pen, acrylic, collage 

Happy Habits

I was alone with my youngest son on a blustery Wednesday. All was cozy until I notice the symptoms of boredom surfacing. Honestly, I was hoping that imagination would entertain Søren, that I could tackle my never-ending stacks of work, but soon realized this was selfish, an instance of my taking his creativity and contemplative nature for granted.

So I pulled out a book of abstract expressionist paintings and turned pages for a while. I listened carefully for long while to Søren’s observations about color, mood, and story. This led to an idea. I asked Søren if he wanted to draw something like these artists? I already knew the answer. I was so happy to pull out my dusty box of printing materials, happy to walk Søren through the process of making a relief block print. 

I’ve tried linoleum with young children with little success because the medium demands a significant degree of fine motor control. Nowadays making a relief block print is much easier because the carving is done on a material more like a plastic eraser. So I got my son started, hovering close by to direct him as needed through all the stages of the process. Søren worked happily for three hours straight drawing, carving, inking, printing… even cleaning up!

I could have coxed my son toward independent play, but I read a book on the treadmill about happiness that reminded me, “Most people do not regularly ask, ‘Will this make happier?’ before engaging in some action. Rather, they do what they do because it feels good at the moment.”

I want my artistic Søren to have the ability to make choices that will make him deeply happy. Right now my job as his mother, his mentor, is to help him fill his toolbox with possibility.

 – Kim

» Here's a great video tutorial on how to make your own block prints.

» For an incredibly inspiring look into the life and work of an amazing artist who creates hand-carved stamps visit Geninne's Art Blog.

» For a beginner's approach to printmaking with younger ones visit this post about using scratch foam.

Have fun!

Pinewood Derby

Most people agree that pinewood derby cars fall into two classes: those obviously made by kids and those obviously made by parents. A few years ago two of my sons built winning cars that fell into the kid made category but were viewed suspiciously because they won. Liam, too young to be officially eligible for a ribbon, built The Stealth, a car that beat every officially participating car.

Their dad showed them what to do but made them do the work. He passed his expertise to his sons and showed them how to implement everything from axle polishing to weight placement to wheel alignment. He gave them the knowledge and skill but required them to do the work with their own hands. This is a dad who mentored his sons and believed they could succeed.

In the end, the pinewood derby reminds me that I’ve observed three classes of teachers: those who don’t bother because they do not think their students can succeed, those who do it themselves because they do not think their students can succeed, and those who truly mentor, passing on the knowledge and skill necessary because they believe their students can succeed.

Passing on knowledge is a noble purpose, believing in a child’s potential, well that is revolutionary.

– Kim

Industrial Animation

Back in the summer of 2003, I took my children to Modigliani & the Artists of Montparnasse at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art. Sketchbook and pencil in hand, I patted each of them on the back and set them free to explore the works as they saw fit. I love observing the creative process. I felt fortunate to wander with them among works that we have admired from afar in books and on the web.

The exhibition, a collection of works by Modigliani, his friends, and contemporaries, might have been better titled “Conversations from Montparnasse” because the collection was a reunion of works developed long ago in a bohemian Paris neighborhood. I was excited to see how my children would join the conversation.

My oldest son Taylor was nine. He had been studying piano for a bit more than a year, but seemed at the time more interested in visual art. Three works captured his imagination at this exhibit: Dancer, Second Version by Sonia Delauney 1916, Black Hair (Young Seated Girl With Brown Hair), Modigliani, and The City, Fernand Leger 1919. These are the works he decided to study. I watched him study and sketch the first two carefully. When he came to the third, Leger’s painting, he simply stood there, soaking the image into his imagination.

Later that day I heard Taylor plunking away on the piano, but didn’t give it much thought until this past spring when he won a competition for an original piano composition and had to write program notes:   

Industrial Animation, a composition for piano by Taylor Bredberg

The story behind this piece began seven years ago after visiting an exhibit, Modigliani and the Art of Montparnasse and after watching a set of short films called Masters of Russian Animation. Here I learned to appreciate industrial beauty and fell in love with the dissonance of Russian music that inspired the main melody. The next part of the journey is very dull considering that the melody sat dormant until recently. In a moment of composer’s block I began to sift through some of my older sketches and came upon the melody. It was unrefined but still had something to it, so I took to it and started working. Prokofiev and Shostakovich, being two of my favorite composers, heavily influenced its mood and shape. Soon enough, along with four brand new melodies, the work is finished, an Industrial Animation at last.

Industrial Animation

Da Vinci’s sketchbooks come to mind, page after page teaming with elaborate ideas, “Art is never finished only abandoned.” All those years ago when we visited the LACMA exhibit Taylor was simply encouraged to abandon some of his ideas into a little sketch book.

Guess it was worth the trip to the local art museum.

– Kim

A Bike of His Own

Fixed gear bicycles are all the rage in our neighborhood. I think this means that the bike can’t coast because the bike’s crank and the rear wheel are dependent of each other. What is so great about that? I mean I love coasting, don’t all girls?

Still Liam assures me that fixies are, “…awesome Mom.”

Whoever makes and markets these bikes is completely aware of this fact too because the bikes cost a small fortune. So this is how the conversation goes:

“Dad, can I get a fixie if I pay for it myself?”

“Sure Liam, but why don’t you make one?”

Liam had $200 to spend. All his friends ride $500 fixies. Back when his dad was a kid everyone had to have a BMX bike. He couldn’t ever have the newest or the coolest, but if he wanted it he could build it from a combination of used parts and a few new essentials.

Liam’s dad assured him that a homemade bike will never look like Lance Armstrong’s track bike, might not even look like the ones his friends ride but he will ride with the satisfaction of knowing that he made his bike.

And so bike construction began. Liam learned today how to purchase a spoke for 60¢, install it, and true the wheel instead of plunking down $100 for a brand new wheel. 

Ownership is certainly valid, but pride in craftsmanship has personal investment that can’t be bought.