when a cartwheel as a motivator fails

I decided it was time to bring out the mightiest motivator - my cartwheel. As a firm believer in intrinsic motivation and celebrations, I rarely use rewards, and I have used the cartwheel only twice before, both times when a student needed an unconventional boost to accomplish something. This time the seemingly mission impossible for one boy is learning cursive. The rest of the children listened to me when I explained the benefits of cursive writing, accepted my invitation to learn it and gladly practiced daily until they transitioned to writing fully in cursive. No complaints, no tears. This one boy did not accept my invitation, did not get inspired by his classmates, did not responded to any attempts to nudge, persuade, nor plead him. His dramatic reactions to the mere mention of cursive surpassed the flare of any drama queen I had seen before. 

"S. if you will practice cursive daily, I promise that after a month I will do a cartwheel," I said in front of the whole class.

Everyone got excited. 

Except S. He looked horrified.

"Ms. Terje, I couldn't. You might break your bones. I don't want to be responsible for breaking your bones," he answered.

I hadn't been ready for this.  My best motivator failed. All the cajoling from the classmates didn't waver his position. His concern for my well-being over-weighed his wish to please his friends. 

I didn't touch the subject for several days. Today I suggested that I could bake a cake. Apparently he doesn't eat cake. 

"S, how about an ice-cream party?" I asked today.

It's a deal! There's hope. 

 cartwheel 1

cartwheel 2

The best email to start the day with

"I heard your cartwheel was epic! ;)" was the first email I read today. 

Isn't that a fabulous email to start a day with? 

This email from a parent highlights a celebration of a challenging learning journey. After I had heard several times form an Estonian teacher that one of my students had not learned his vocabulary words, I knew I had to do something about it. The student either lacked motivation, didn't understand that he actually had to practice in order to remember the words, or had no idea of the way to practice, or maybe all of the three. I knew it was time for me to bring out the mightiest motivation and help possible. My cartwheel. And regular iretrieval practice of words. 

So last Wednesday, when once again he failed his assessment, I said that we would make a collective effort as a class to help him. I recruited different students to sit with him on Thursday and Friday to review the words. During one of the lessons on Friday afternoon, when others completed work independently, I sat with him and showed him the words in Estonian and he wrote them on a small whiteboard. I also explained to him that he would have to do a similar practice on Saturday and Sunday because this was the best way to strengthen the synapses in his brain and remember the words.

I asked how he would remember to ask for help from mom. He wrote a note to himself. To make the support even stronger, I spoke to his older sister, to tell mom that he would ask for help, and if not, mom would ask about it. As a final touch I promised in front of the whole class that if he would get everything right on the test I would do a cartwheel.

The whole class promised to be his cheerleader. It's not every day a teacher cartwheels. They knew that I did it only once last year.

The child returned on Monday confident in himself. his mom sent me an email sharing that he had taken every opportunity to practice with his sister and dad. Jus tin case we reviewed the words one more time during the day before his assessment. He knew all the words required. 

When he came back form the assessment it wasn't the perfect score. He had passes. he had done many times better than ever before. His classmates persuaded me that the perfect score shouldn't be the criteria for me doing the cartwheel. He deserved it anyway. A celebration for his success. I agreed.

We pushed away some chairs and tables to make room for me on the carpet. The kids had their I-Pads ready to record, what I asked to put away, because my cartwheel was one time special event only, no recordings. 

It is probably not normal, nor totally safe, for a middle-aged slightly overweight person to cartwheel in the classroom. 

I did it anyway. I felt that my legs were pretty straight and my final pose was beautiful. Done! Bow! Cheering from the kids.

Today I found out from a parent that my cartwheel was epic. Whatever it takes to give a mighty boost for a child who needs it. ;)

Student writing marathon

 Gathered on a carpet, the students look at me with anticipation. Since the morning, when they saw "Writing marathon" on the schedule, they have been curious about it. Bringing two totem bags to the meeting adds to the puzzlement. Time to reveal the mystery. 

"You all know what a writing marathon is. It takes time and the runners run a long distance. If you first hear about writing marathon you might think that it means sitting in a chair for two hours and writing non stop until your fingers fall off.  Maybe by the end of the year you might wish to try this, when you have trained your fingers and body enough to have the stamina to write so long. Today the marathon is different. We'll move around and write in different spots and step by step it adds up to many pages of writing," I explain. Some of them still look at me with some suspicion. Some already smile broadly with excitement.

"I did my first writing marathon this summer and it was one of the best days ever. I wrote in a cafe, in a park, on a seaside, in another cafe. Such joy. And to have a good start, you will receive a very special gift," I pull out a wrapped gift from the first bag.

"You will get your first writer's journal. Writer's journal is no ordinary school notebook. This is a special journal for writers to collect ideas, experiment with sentences, to play with words, to try out new craft moves. It is a very safe place for you to write in. You can make mistakes, not finish pieces, leave some pages empty, cross things out, have messes. It is so private that you do not have to share it with anyone unless you want to. I get to read the journal only because as a teacher I need to monitor your development as a writer. The writer's journal is not a school thing but a life thing in the writer's life. Here are some of my journals I have kept over the years," I pull out a pack of my journals from the second bag and show them some pages.

I can feel how the anticipation fills the air. Even the biggest skeptics shift closer to the gift package. 

Tearing the wrapping paper off, I reveal the simplest journals similar to the ones I first started writing in. Each student finds a colour they like, knowing that later they can decorate the covers in any way they wish. Then they get a pencil and find their first writing spot in the classroom.

"Are you ready?" I ask.

"Yes," they respond in unison.

The first task is to write lists. They write a list of what makes them happy, their favourite places, people in their lives, favourite foods, favourite animals and a random list of words that pop in their head. 

The second task is to choose one thing from any of the list and we do a quick write.

The third task is to write a "Right Now" list. Before they start I share some of my examples from the blog.

Each time they write, I put on a timer and some soft music. 

For the second round I read to them "Step Gently Out." Then they put on their jackets and outside shoes and we go to the school yard.

The fourth task is to write down observations, painting a big scene with their words. They spill around finding various spots and start scribbling.

When the time is up, I ask them to run to me to get new instructions.

The fifth task is to find an object - a leaf, a feather, a crack in the wall, a section of a tree bark, a flower, a grass of blade - and this time to write a detailed close observation.  Once again they walk off, looking around for something to write and a place to settle in. Writing, writing, writing.

When I call, they run back to me.

The sixth task is to write down any wonderings they can come up with. 

The second part of the marathon done, we return inside, they take off the jackets, change their shoes, and change with each other predictions of the possible new location. Gym? Library? Cafeteria? Teacher's lounge?

I take them to the second floor next to the library.

The seventh task is to choose a photo form a package and write about it. They take some time to choose form the photo cards I have spread on the floor, then pick one that speaks to them today, and find a place in the hallway or library. 

The eight task is to choose an illustration. I have spread Dixit cards on the floor, and they follow the same steps as with the photos - look, pick, write.

The ninth task is to write a short reflection of the whole experience. They sit on lined up sofas like birds on a wire. 

When the time is up, I ask them to do a little silent victory dance for completing their first marathon. 

We return to to the classroom for sharing.

With partners they choose what kind of a share they wish to have - content, craft, process, topic, or a reflection share. 

For the very final piece of our writing time I introduce the author's chair. A volunteer sits in a green armchair and chooses what kind of feedback she'd like form others - a question, a suggestion, a compliment, a connection, an idea or a memorable line. 

The first student writing marathon is done. It took one hour and thirty minutes. Not so much time, yet three writing spots visited, nine quick tasks written, several writing ideas collected, knowledge of ways to collect ideas noted, many pages filled in the journal, and students excited about writing - win-win-win for everyone. 

The magic that keeps me in the classroom

With a soft music playing in the background and late morning sun filling the room, my sweet little group of fourth graders focused quietly on creating their personal geography maps either in the shape of a heart, an island, a hand, a quilt or a garden patch. I had just spent time reading and commenting on their thoughtbooks. I was genuinely surprised how much they had written already, how much effort they had put in the presentation, and the ways they showed their thinking. The pages included lists, bubble and double bubble maps, behaviour over time graphs, stock and flow charts, summaries and opinions, explanations, sketches and questions. A little bit earlier we had had a fish bowl observation where two students with opposite opinions had carefully listened to each other, practicing how to use clarifying questions and paraphrasing. 

The silence of being immersed in creating, the amount of thinking my students had demonstrated, their respect to listen to each other - my heart wanted to swell out of my chest and I barely could hold back tears. 

This is the magic that keeps me in the classroom.   

The things we do to motivate students

"Did you really do a handstand?" was the greeting I received form a colleague on Thursday morning.
"No," I replied, "but I did do a cartwheel."
This is true. I did. On Wednesday afternoon right before the day ended. In my small classroom. In front of my students.
I can't say anything about the beauty or elegance of my cartwheel. Just for a few seconds I felt decades younger, several centimetres slimmer and many kilos lighter. The ten year old me rejoiced.
It could have ended badly as in the funniest videos where the world laughs and I wish to cry because someone got hurt. I hadn't done it for many years but I trusted my muscle memory.
You are probably wondering why I would do something like this.
For a student.
S. had word study written sort. With her antennas attuned to everything happening in the class she kept stopping in mid word to see and hear what was going around in the class. With this speed the chance of writing all words before the day ended was impossible.
First I used simple reminders to stay focused.
When others started cleaning the classroom, I started a cheerleading routine with imaginary pompons.
"You can do it," I cheered to S, made her smile.
She looked determined at first and wrote word after word.
The clock kept ticking.
"I can't do it," S. was starting to give up.
"If you get your words written, I will do a cartwheel," I gave an ultimate promise.
Now everyone's antennas went up.
Action followed. The students started pushing the tables and chairs to make space for me.
"S, you can do it. Do it. We want to see Ms. Terje's cartwheel," multiple voices filled the room.
The school day finished. S. leaned lower, her nose almost touching her journal, and wrote.
Everyone else watched intently.
"Done," announced S. and put her pencil down victoriously.
And I did my cartwheel.
One time show only.

A gift

"What's in here?" several students point at a wrapped up gift box on a shelf behind me.
"You'll see. We'll open it in the afternoon," I build the suspense.
"Candy?" comes a hopeful guess.
"It's not edible. I hope you won't chew it," I respond.
"It kind of looks like a typewriter," another idea is put on the table.
"This would be awesome, but unfortunately not," I shake my head.

Several guesses and lessons later the students are gathered on the carpet. The gift is on the floor.
"I know some of you hoped that I would have a whole box of candy or a typewriter here. I don't. This is still a gift. Remember how I told you that I grew up believing that I wasn't a writer. There were writers and non-writers. the writers had some magical talent and knew all sorts of writing secrets. The non-writers would never find the secrets. Only when I was more than thirty years old, I found out that it is possible to learn to write. You know better. And I will gladly share with you some of the secrets I have discovered. One of the secrets is in here," I pat the gift.
The kids look at me intently and with curiosity.
"The gift is a writer's journal. This is a special journal. A safe place to gather ideas and to experiment and to play with ideas and words. Nobody but you and I get to see what you write unless you wish to share. Not even your parents can look inside," I explain.
You'd think that hearing about a journal would be a disappointment but the kids are still tense with anticipation. To add to it I bring out my old journals.
"When I first got myself a journal, it was a very simple plain journal. The next time I put a sticker on my second journal. The journals that followed had different covers," I show them my journals, "You can see how some of the writing is messy, I have things crossed out, some things written sideways. This is why the journal is a safe place. It does not judge me. Everything I write is accepted. It is like a caring friend who is always ready to listen with understanding, who encourages me to take risks, who finds my ideas interesting. Your journals are extra special because you get to decorate them as you wish. Are you ready for your journals?" I ask, knowing I can count on a loud yes, what indeed follows.

We open the package and everyone gets a plain spiral notebook. During the rest of the lesson the students go  through the different craft materials, cut, and paste, or draw. The excitement is continuously vibrating in the air. Some even name their journals and write a little welcome letter on the very first page.

We are ready for an awesome writing year. I am thinking of getting myself a new journal.

"I still think that typewriter would have been a cool gift too," says one girl while drawing squiggly designs on her journal cover.

"Yes, it would have been a good gift too," I agree with her.

Weight lifting and writing

The quarter of a watermelon felt rather heavy when I cradled it in my arms on the way home. My hubby next to me carried the groceries we had bought after finishing our late evening walk. My hubby joked I should lift the watermelon with one hand and carry the grocery bag in the other hand to get some weight exercise done. It's one of our latest jokes. My weight lifting.

For the past two years my director has been trying to educate all the women in the building about the importance of muscle building as we get older. She has shared the research, showed different exercises with explanations of which muscles work, set an example regularly exercising herself and passing the body building teacher exam. Some women followed her. Most shrugged the shoulders. I understood the importance of weight lifting for my body and health. I did nothing. Push ups and me. Laughter. Weight lifting and me. Laughter. Pull ups and me. Can't stop laughing. Yoga and dancing are my favourite modes of exercise. Walking too. But now that my director is leaving in two weeks, I have a set of weight lifts in my living room. I bought them. My director gave me a set of exercises to do daily. I am laughing. But I am still going to do it. I used not to write and thought I couldn't do it. I am writing.

I though of the kids in my class who had struggled with writing this year.  Listening to their answers to end of the year interview made me do a little happy dance in my heart.

I asked them: What might be some successes you had this year?

H: The historical fiction because it was the most writing I have done the whole year.  
S: Writing. My historical fiction. Maybe the "Secret Life of Zack."
I: My writing, I didn’t write before. This is the first time I am writing stories.
F: I almost finished a story that I started with H. I am happy that we started doing it. I like writing with H. He is a good artist, I have ideas. We have good team work.

And a note to remember:

H: Writing is difficult at first, but if you get used to it, you get more ideas.

Little by little, when I practice lifting weights, I might get used to it, and I might become stronger too.