On Teaching: "A Reading Tea Party"

Looking for a lift for my teaching (midwinter doldrums, I guess), I stopped into Holly's room yesterday morning and sat in on a small, appealingly cozy reading class. In her cheery room, Holly was sitting at a table with three girls, going over some blends, and they all looked so comfortable, they might as well have been enjoying a tea party. (Over the many years, it's become clear to me that Pine Point is, above all, a "comfortable" school.) Being a part-time writer and a full time devotee of words, I enjoyed watching Holly take the girls though a series of pairs of flash cards, showing words like “sh-oe” and “t-oe”. I found it fascinating, and, as I watched the girls, I could see that they did too. They were alert, eager, and responsive. Every so often, they shifted a bit in their chairs, but that was just to get more comfortable for the work ahead. They were obviously very “into” what Holly was doing. I loved watching one girl carefully forming a word with her mouth as she prepared to pronounce it. I could see that every muscle in her face (and probably in her entire upper body) was being brought into play as she got ready to say the word. It was a moment of pure intensity for her. Finally, with a soft burst of pleasure, she pronounced the word – I think it was “badge” – and there was such force in her expression you would have thought she had spoken a word of immense power and magic. I especially enjoyed a game Holly played with the girls. She held up a card with a word on it, gave the students perhaps five seconds to look at the word, then covered it and took them through some quick drills: “Write the word in air.” “What’s the first sound?” “What’s the final letter?” “What’s the second sound?” And my favorite: “Spell the word backwards.” The girls responded earnestly and correctly each time. I was rather astounded, especially since I realized that I could not have done so well — especially with the backward spelling!

Just before I left the delightful reading tea party, I noticed an acrostic poem the children had composed on the board. It was about snowflakes, and one line especially caught my eye: “flashing frost coming down”.

As I walked down the walkway in a frosty wind, I was warmed by the memory of the teaching and learning I saw flashing around that table in Holly’s inviting room.