Some of the things that become the most meaningful parts of our lives are never the things we plan to treasure. Sometimes, they are the simplest things we bring home on an ordinary afternoon, never imagining that years later, they will hold so many memories.
There are some weeks in the classroom when I find myself reflecting not only on what my students are learning, but also on the people, relationships, and little moments that make teaching such a meaningful part of my life. This was one of those weeks.
This week I was reminded how much learning can happen when we make room for both academics and the heart.
Reflecting on a week of reading, growing, and discovering that every child deserves to feel like a reader.
Another week in second grade is in the books, and once again, I find myself reflecting on how much learning can happen when children are given the opportunity to wonder, explore, practice, and try again.
There is something about a new year that makes us pause.
Another week in second grade is in the books, and as I sit and reflect on our days together, I find myself thinking about something that happens so often in an elementary classroom:
There is something about a three-day school week that makes a teacher look at the calendar and wonder, How much can we possibly accomplish?
“Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It’s not.”— The Lorax, Dr. Seuss
There is something truly special about the beginning of a new school year. After spending so many years in education—and experiencing many first days, new classrooms, and changing roles—I still feel that familiar mixture of excitement, anticipation, and possibility.
December has arrived in Room 3B, and Peyton Carter is discovering that the greatest gifts aren't always the ones wrapped in shiny paper.
I wrote Peyton's Pages of Possibility: The Power to Stand Up because I wanted to give children language for moments that often feel confusing, quiet, and deeply important.