Longwood Gardens in January 2011

Reflections on First Class

I love these moment. Time set aside to do what I love - write. I have every intention to write and to write each day. But it is time that I too easily push aside, bury it under mounds of checklists and laundry. It is so easy to give up the time that I try to set aside to write in order to put out little fires. It is hard to write when you can hear the two year old sneaking up the stairs with his Thomas the Train in tow, having slipped away while Daddy is distracted by a diaper event in the other room.

Sitting in the gardens today reminded me to stop, to breath, to take time to look, to see what it right in front of me. And, most importantly, to challenge myself each day to break out of my comfort zone.

I am comfortable in front of a laptop screen, 12 tabs open but not really engaged in any one thing. I'm comfortable being Mommy, wiping up puddles of drool, picking up toys, and folding laundry - all at the same time. I am comfortable giving up my writing time.

So today reminded me to stop being so comfortable.

First Venture in the Gardens

I'm hiding. I've tucked myself in behind a macassar oil tree and a hare's foot fern. I don't want to sit out in the open to write. I want to peak out on the world, content to observe and write unseen.

It is odd watching mommies pushing empty strollers while toddlers clomp behind, refusing to be harnessed. I am usually in this position, children in tow, attempting to wrangle one out of a fountain while pacifying another. Today, I sit attempting a wrangling of a different sort.

I'm tempted to get up and move, to go to my familiar haunts, to watch the mommies and their children. It is familiar. I can predict what I would see, what I would write. Familiar reflections on my role as a mom, how odd it is to have this time to myself. But I don't want to do that. I'm trying to push myself this morning, to be the unseen seer. I'm attempting to wrangle my own tendencies, keep them in check, so that I might see the unseen.

But this is too much like yoga. I to want to want to do yoga. To calm my breathing, my thoughts. But the minute I still my body and breathing to observe the world I'm in, my mind goes racing to the checklist of chores and duties lined up in my head. So much so that I miss what is right in front of me.

The leaves of the hair oil tree are touching my knee. Their edged a crusty brown, and the leaf closest to me has a hold eaten straight through its middle. In such a controlled environment, a summer englassed in the midst of winter, where did the bug come from?

Literacy in Bloom

This online portfolio is a collection of my work in Patty Koller's Literacy in Bloom course, offered through the Pennsylvania Writing and Literature Project (PAWLP) housed on West Chester University's campus. I was introduced to PAWLP shortly after I began my teaching career almost a decade ago by a wonderful curriculum coordinator in our district. My first class, Teacher as Writer, hooked me, and I've been taking PAWLP classes ever since. This past summer I finally was able to set aside time to participate in the summer writing institute, becoming a fellow in the National Writing Project, of which PAWLP is a regional affiliate. I am not exaggerating when I write that PAWLP has changed my teaching. The instructors, the courses, and the connections that I've made with my fellow teachers has changed how I think about what I do inside the classroom. I am a better teacher for the connections that I've made through PAWLP.

And the Literacy in Bloom class is a wonderful example of the collaborative and reflective nature of PAWLP classes. For five Saturdays, a great group of 15 teachers ranging from elementary teachers through college instructors met at Longwood Gardens to reflect and discuss our place within nature and how we might connect literacy and the natural world. We explored a variety of teaching models and strategies, collaborated to create a variety of curriculum materials, and most importantly made connections both personally and professionally.

This online portfolio strives to be a reflection and a synthesis of those connections.

Thanks for taking a peak!
--Jen Ward