The Pleasure of Reading to Children

My greatest pleasure, when substituting for the younger grades, is reading to the class.  I was lucky enough to enjoy this privilege when my own children were in grade school.  My children would choose their favorite stories for me to read to the class, usually Dr. Seuss or Bill Peet books.  Other times, they wanted me to read one of my works-in-progress, a new children’s adventure short story.  For those, I’d bring in visuals, magazine photos of bats or caves, or family camping photos of locations we’d visited.  Sometimes my son or daughter would draw pictures to go along with my children’s stories.

            Whenever we have extra time in class or if the teacher says that the substitute can either read a story to the class or allow free play time, I choose to read to the students.  And I don’t just read.  I sing, as in the poetry of the words of the story.  In the youngest stories there is usually a cadence, a flow that a reader can capture for the children.  Dr Seuss and Bill Peet (and many other authors) excel at having a rhythm to their story words.

            Then there are the possibilities in the stories.  What happens next?  Always give the children a chance to think about what could happen next and what it would mean to the protagonist [main character] of the story.  This works on students’ critical thinking skills.   

            Reading a good story to students can relieve tension in the classroom, both the teacher’s and the students’.  After a session of structured teaching, reading can allow teachers and students the chance to relax and ready themselves for the next subject. 

If you’re ever lost for something to do when substituting, or if the students are becoming rambunctious while you struggle with lesson plans, pluck a book from the classroom bookshelves and bring the students to the carpet.  Reading gives both children and adults a chance to imagine the possibilities.                  

Kindergarten Math

They have Math, too, in kindergarten. The lesson plan said, "Read the Ten Black Dots book to the class." Then under that, the teacher noted "brainstorm with the children objects to draw." I always worry about brainstorming with young children. I mean think about it. Of course there is going to be a "storm." We have one adult brain pitted against twenty-five six-year-old brains. The last time I exchanged ideas with kindergarteners, I became hopelessly mired in the "Guess what?" scenario. So I was leery to open up a discussion about things that the children could draw ten of on paper relating to our Ten Black Dots book.

"Let's name some concrete things to draw on paper," I told my wiggly carpet sitters.

"What's 'concrete'? A boy asked.

"Real things that you can touch," I responded. "Like flowers." I was thinking about what six-year-olds could draw.

"Like eyebrows!" Someone piped up.

"Eyebrows?" I questioned.

"How about toes?" Another student asked.

"Umm," I responded.

"You can use eye balls," a little girl said.

"Wait," I tried to get hold of our 'brainstorming.'

"Fingernails," a boy sang.

"But you have to be able to draw the ten things on paper for the teacher," I said.

"Seamus' freckles," a stout boy said.

I felt my body being sucked into the swamp called "kindergarten math" and wondered how I was going to break free to move onto the next lesson. Then a quiet little girl whispered in my ear, "how about rainbows?"

"Rainbows," I shouted above the din. Children can draw rainbows, I thought. I felt my feet loosen in the mire. I hugged the little girl and told her to return to the carpet as I knew others would rush me if she didn't.

"Butterflies," another student shouted.

"Great," I said, "we've got the idea now. Back to your tables to draw ten same things on the paper I will pass out."

I pulled my feet completely free from the swamp and hurriedly passed out the paper so as not to allow my little Michelangelos to forget what they were to illustrate ten times. Then I gave each of them ten black dots to place on their drawing page.

Walking around the tables full of chattering students, reminding them that they only needed ten things, I did notice some eyebrows. At least, I think they were eyebrows. They could have been single-lined, charred rainbows. Only a few students had actually placed little hash mark hairs on their arched black lines. And then there were the toes...ten oblong black boxes--minus the toenails.

Famous Females Filmstrips

Women's month. I think it is wonderful to have students research famous women for women's month. To make the fourth grade Social Studies project more interesting, the teacher I substituted for wanted eight unique facts about each student's researched famous woman displayed on paper filmstrip-type boxes. These paper "filmstrip" printouts looked like the old fashion filmstrips that used to be shown in theatres, remember those? I do.

The students had--supposedly--researched the eight facts and were ready to fill two of the eight filmstrip boxes. The idea was to write a fact in the top of the box and then draw a picture of the fact and color it. Simple, right? But as I circulated the room checking on progress and keeping students on task, I found that clarification was needed in several cases.

To keep this post length reasonable, I'll speak about one particular student's famous woman, as it sticks in my mind so. Mother Teresa. What was the fourth grade student's amazing fact about her? Mother Teresa gave chocolate to the poor kids.

...Chocolate...why did it have to be chocolate, and why now?

"No, Sweetie," I informed my brilliant fourth grader, "Mother Teresa would not give chocolate--especially the large chocolate candy bar you have pictured in your film box--to poor children. These people are starving. Chocolate is a luxury. Mother Teresa would have given them something a little more nutritious. Probably a basic food, usually a thick liquid served in a bowl."

The fourth grade wizard thought for a moment. "You mean chocolate syrup over ice cream?" She offered.

What's with this girl and chocolate, I thought.

"This isn't working," I told her. "Give me another fact that makes Mother Teresa an important woman."

"She got a prize," the young lady told me.

"What was the prize," I asked.

"Chocolate," she told me with an angelic face.

Okay, God, you are testing me, right?

"Dear," I told her, "I gave up chocolate for Lent. Could we not use the "C" word anymore?"

The fourth grader shook her head yes.

"Good," I said. "Then I'll tell you what prize Mother Teresa received. It was the Nobel Peace Prize for her good works taking care of the poor in India."

"Did she have chocolate at the party?" the fourth grader asked me.

I just shook my head and moved onto the next student. It's going to be another long, long, long Lent. Wish me luck.