A week ago, J's teacher sent home a packet of worksheets. She said she'd gotten them from a friend of hers who teaches first grade and uses them to challenge the kids who are a bit ahead in her classes.
J is eating them up! He did a sheet about long and short vowel sounds, and when he had to choose a word for a long U and long O, he chose, on his own, November and vocabulary. Usually, he tries to pick the shortest words he can think of so he doesn't have to write so much (exerting much more effort to think of the short words than it would take to just write a slightly longer one!)
And when he was done, he suggested that the page needed to be colored, which he finished under his own willpower and direction.
He finished a crossword-type page in about 3 minutes, all by himself. My jaw about hit the floor! What, no nagging?
Can you hear my sigh of relief? It seems he really was bored with the regular kindergarten homework.
And you should have seen his eyes when his teacher told us that there's a new packet for each month, and that will be his own "special" homework from now on. I think we're all happy about this new arrangement!
Monday, November 23, 2009
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Parent-Teacher Conference
I got more than my allotted 15 minutes with J's teacher. When we sat down, the first thing she said was, "Jared is wonderful and amazing!" Which sounds just like kindergarten teacher talk. But then she went on, saying that academically, he's way beyond anyone else in his class.
She told some fun stories about the standardized testing they do in their class. Student's moms volunteer to take children out into the hall and administer the simple tests, such as the IRI I wrote about before. She showed me one of his tests, which consisted of about 50 words in boxes. The mom asked J to read as many words as he knew. He rolled his eyes and said, "I can read all of them!" The mom made him prove it, and of course he rattled them off quickly. The mom went back into the classroom and told the teacher about his "come on, people!" attitude and how he'd actually read all the words!
The teacher and I had a good laugh about that.
She mentioned that he needs to work on cutting, which makes no sense to me. Some of the work he's brought home looks like an adult cut it out (I thought the teacher had done it). She was concerned, however, that it took him so long, and that all the other kids finished first. I explained that it's perfectionism, that he's just trying really hard. I hope that point made it across to her. Because he can cut fast, and pretty well, but when it counts, he is super meticulous. Hmmm....I wonder where he got that trait from? (The answer is from both his parents)
I told her about our struggle with writing. He just doesn't like to do that. She had picked up on that, but says that he does write for her. That's good. I suspect, as with most things he does, that he'll struggle for a little while and then suddenly it will "click" and he'll zoom ahead with that skill, too.
When we first sat down, I mentioned that I didn't know if J's skills would even show in a kindergarten classroom setting. I mean, if they don't ask the kids to read anything besides See Spot Run, how would she know that he can read words like "glacier" and "defibrillator?" If the math curriculum consists of grabbing buttons out of a jar and counting them, how would she know that at home, he usually groups things in equal numbers and multiplies to see how many there are?
But she said it's obvious that he's far ahead of the class. She gave me quite a bit of evidence that J's entire class is advanced. This is her first year at the Math & Science Magnet school, and at her previous school she taught the advanced group of kindergarten children. She says that because it's a magnet school with an application process, the kids have involved parents, and the whole class is about at the level of her advanced class from her previous school.
But on her Waterford computer program that tells the reading level of each child, every one of those "advanced" kindergartners is on level 1. Except J, who is on level 3.
J's teacher brought up how the standardized test scores only catch children who are performing below grade level, so they mean nothing for J.
The most profound thing J's teacher said during the conference was about skipping a grade. She said she considered trying to figure out how to send J to first grade for reading and math, but then decided that it was pointless because he'd still be above grade level. And no one would think that skipping a kindergartner to third grade would be a good idea.
And how's this for asynchronous development. The teacher and I both agree that he couldn't hack 3rd, 2nd, or even 1st grade, because he doesn't know how to write all his answers. He can perform verbally, but he still writes like a kindergartner.
I mentioned that J wouldn't take his favorite Magic Treehouse books to school for Pajamas & Popcorn day, and insisted on taking the first book he ever read (Mr. Brown Can Moo, Can You?) instead. I am concerned that he's trying to hide his reading ability from his classmates. She said he tries really hard to fit in, but she's concerned about that, too. She said she often has him read the title of the books she's about to read to the class, and other such things, but is worried that he feels "weird" because he knows how to read and no one else in the class does. We never came to a conclusion about her suggestion that she let him go read by himself, if he loves to read that much. I said he does love to read that much, but we both worry that he'll feel ostracized from the class.
She says that the rest of the class is advanced enough that she has to teach them how to read. She just can't hold them back, so she just got approval from the principal to add a new program called SIPS. She used it with her advanced group of kindergartners in her previous school. And she hopes that teaching the other kids how to read will help Jared feel more comfortable with his own abilities. We can only hope!
I came away relieved that the teacher recognizes J's abilities and my plight, but disappointed that she doesn't have any answers, either. I guess that's how it goes! But wouldn't it be nice if someone would just hand me a solution?
She told some fun stories about the standardized testing they do in their class. Student's moms volunteer to take children out into the hall and administer the simple tests, such as the IRI I wrote about before. She showed me one of his tests, which consisted of about 50 words in boxes. The mom asked J to read as many words as he knew. He rolled his eyes and said, "I can read all of them!" The mom made him prove it, and of course he rattled them off quickly. The mom went back into the classroom and told the teacher about his "come on, people!" attitude and how he'd actually read all the words!
The teacher and I had a good laugh about that.
She mentioned that he needs to work on cutting, which makes no sense to me. Some of the work he's brought home looks like an adult cut it out (I thought the teacher had done it). She was concerned, however, that it took him so long, and that all the other kids finished first. I explained that it's perfectionism, that he's just trying really hard. I hope that point made it across to her. Because he can cut fast, and pretty well, but when it counts, he is super meticulous. Hmmm....I wonder where he got that trait from? (The answer is from both his parents)
I told her about our struggle with writing. He just doesn't like to do that. She had picked up on that, but says that he does write for her. That's good. I suspect, as with most things he does, that he'll struggle for a little while and then suddenly it will "click" and he'll zoom ahead with that skill, too.
When we first sat down, I mentioned that I didn't know if J's skills would even show in a kindergarten classroom setting. I mean, if they don't ask the kids to read anything besides See Spot Run, how would she know that he can read words like "glacier" and "defibrillator?" If the math curriculum consists of grabbing buttons out of a jar and counting them, how would she know that at home, he usually groups things in equal numbers and multiplies to see how many there are?
But she said it's obvious that he's far ahead of the class. She gave me quite a bit of evidence that J's entire class is advanced. This is her first year at the Math & Science Magnet school, and at her previous school she taught the advanced group of kindergarten children. She says that because it's a magnet school with an application process, the kids have involved parents, and the whole class is about at the level of her advanced class from her previous school.
But on her Waterford computer program that tells the reading level of each child, every one of those "advanced" kindergartners is on level 1. Except J, who is on level 3.
J's teacher brought up how the standardized test scores only catch children who are performing below grade level, so they mean nothing for J.
The most profound thing J's teacher said during the conference was about skipping a grade. She said she considered trying to figure out how to send J to first grade for reading and math, but then decided that it was pointless because he'd still be above grade level. And no one would think that skipping a kindergartner to third grade would be a good idea.
And how's this for asynchronous development. The teacher and I both agree that he couldn't hack 3rd, 2nd, or even 1st grade, because he doesn't know how to write all his answers. He can perform verbally, but he still writes like a kindergartner.
I mentioned that J wouldn't take his favorite Magic Treehouse books to school for Pajamas & Popcorn day, and insisted on taking the first book he ever read (Mr. Brown Can Moo, Can You?) instead. I am concerned that he's trying to hide his reading ability from his classmates. She said he tries really hard to fit in, but she's concerned about that, too. She said she often has him read the title of the books she's about to read to the class, and other such things, but is worried that he feels "weird" because he knows how to read and no one else in the class does. We never came to a conclusion about her suggestion that she let him go read by himself, if he loves to read that much. I said he does love to read that much, but we both worry that he'll feel ostracized from the class.
She says that the rest of the class is advanced enough that she has to teach them how to read. She just can't hold them back, so she just got approval from the principal to add a new program called SIPS. She used it with her advanced group of kindergartners in her previous school. And she hopes that teaching the other kids how to read will help Jared feel more comfortable with his own abilities. We can only hope!
I came away relieved that the teacher recognizes J's abilities and my plight, but disappointed that she doesn't have any answers, either. I guess that's how it goes! But wouldn't it be nice if someone would just hand me a solution?
No Easy Answers
I realized today that when J started school, I was hoping for some relief. For once, J's brain wouldn't be my burden to bear alone. I wanted an ally, some professional help in handling the great responsibility I feel. I especially realized that my unstructured instruction on whatever topic J wanted to discuss was leaving major gaps in his education, and counted on school to fill those in.
But the past two months since J started kindergarten have gradually disappointed me, leaving me to realize that school really won't be much of a help. I am grateful that school is filling in the gaps, as I'd hoped, but it's definitely just brought its own problems.
That point was made clear today at my first ever teacher-parent conference, which I'll write about in a separate post.
But the past two months since J started kindergarten have gradually disappointed me, leaving me to realize that school really won't be much of a help. I am grateful that school is filling in the gaps, as I'd hoped, but it's definitely just brought its own problems.
That point was made clear today at my first ever teacher-parent conference, which I'll write about in a separate post.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
You Know You're a Parent of Gifted Kids When...
...they can't sit through a feature-length cartoon, but are thoroughly engaged during the entire 1-hour PBS show about the Hubble Telescope. And you didn't really mind that they stayed up an hour late to watch it, either.
...your 3 year old uses the words "ledge" and "collection."
...your 3 year old uses the words "ledge" and "collection."
Friday, October 16, 2009
Homework Woes
J just won't do his homework. He doesn't like to write! His homework assignments are given on Monday and due on Friday. He has 4 days to work on it, but he says it's too much, that he's too tired. His gets to choose between two assignment options. One option is usually a story prompt. He draws a picture and writes a few sentences about it. The other option is usually to draw as many things as he can think of that start with the letter of the week and label them.
I let him choose what he wants to do, then he happily brainstorms with me and draws his picture. Then he tells me what he wants to write and I write it neatly for him to copy on the back of his picture.
Last night, after 2 hours of him sitting in his chair and doing who knows what (I did not sit there with him the whole time), I gave up. He would only write when I verbally told him the letters to write, even though it was all in front of him. He would NOT write anything if I didn't feed it to him letter by letter. He says he's too tired. Which is, of course, his excuse any time I ask him to do anything. He could be running around like a maniac one second, then flop on the floor and claim he's too tired to do anything if I ask him to pick up some socks! Argh!
So, thinking of the Love and Logic book I read a while ago, I decided to let him experience the consequence of not having his homework ready when it was due. I discussed consequences with him and asked him what the consequence would be if he didn't have his homework done. He decided he didn't care. So I dropped it.
He has afternoon kindergarten, and in the morning, he started to panic a little bit that his homework wasn't done. He started to write, again demanding that I feed him letter by letter. I was proud of his motivation, although he was still rather slow. He grabbed his lap desk and continued to write in the car on the drive to school. Even so, he barely got through 1/2 of what he'd agreed to write when the bell rang to go to class. I was proud of myself for letting him go with it half-done (and messy at that) and couldn't wait to hear what his teacher said about it.
Guess what she did? Nothing. Worse than nothing, actually. She picked today to start handing the homework back, complete with a sticker and "awesome story!" written on it. Yes, it was an awesome story, but he didn't write any of it. So how would she know how awesome it was? He basically only restated the question, plus about 5 more words.
So much for letting him experience the consequences.
I let him choose what he wants to do, then he happily brainstorms with me and draws his picture. Then he tells me what he wants to write and I write it neatly for him to copy on the back of his picture.
Last night, after 2 hours of him sitting in his chair and doing who knows what (I did not sit there with him the whole time), I gave up. He would only write when I verbally told him the letters to write, even though it was all in front of him. He would NOT write anything if I didn't feed it to him letter by letter. He says he's too tired. Which is, of course, his excuse any time I ask him to do anything. He could be running around like a maniac one second, then flop on the floor and claim he's too tired to do anything if I ask him to pick up some socks! Argh!
So, thinking of the Love and Logic book I read a while ago, I decided to let him experience the consequence of not having his homework ready when it was due. I discussed consequences with him and asked him what the consequence would be if he didn't have his homework done. He decided he didn't care. So I dropped it.
He has afternoon kindergarten, and in the morning, he started to panic a little bit that his homework wasn't done. He started to write, again demanding that I feed him letter by letter. I was proud of his motivation, although he was still rather slow. He grabbed his lap desk and continued to write in the car on the drive to school. Even so, he barely got through 1/2 of what he'd agreed to write when the bell rang to go to class. I was proud of myself for letting him go with it half-done (and messy at that) and couldn't wait to hear what his teacher said about it.
Guess what she did? Nothing. Worse than nothing, actually. She picked today to start handing the homework back, complete with a sticker and "awesome story!" written on it. Yes, it was an awesome story, but he didn't write any of it. So how would she know how awesome it was? He basically only restated the question, plus about 5 more words.
So much for letting him experience the consequences.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Mystery Worksheet
J finally came home with some extra work! It's a worksheet about pronouns. I searched for some kind of note from the teacher, assuming she'd scribble something to me about the more advanced work she'd sent home, but I found nothing. Not even a reply to the note I sent, asking if the kids were going to be able to wear their Halloween costumes to school (I loved that day when I was a kid!)
So I asked J, and he said that he was just taking his turn on the computer and the screen said "Print" so he did.
I don't know. I'll make him do it and send it back tomorrow and see if she says anything.
Could this be the start of the challenge she promised for J?
So I asked J, and he said that he was just taking his turn on the computer and the screen said "Print" so he did.
I don't know. I'll make him do it and send it back tomorrow and see if she says anything.
Could this be the start of the challenge she promised for J?
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
"Not Worried about J"
J missed two days of school last week, our first school absence experience. I sent a note to his teacher, asking if he needed to make up any work, and if so, could she please send it home with him?
Her reply was, "I'm not worried about J. He can skip the work he missed."
Yeah, well, he could skip kindergarten entirely, but I'm hoping he'll actually learn something by going and doing work!
I don't care so much about the classwork. After all, it's probably better suited to 3 yr old Z. But I have yet to see any sort of effort from his teacher to challenge J.
She says that her own kids were all just like J. At first I took comfort in that, but now I'm wondering what she did about it back then? Did she just let her children be unchallenged in school? I hope that's not her plan for J. I'm really looking forward to parent-teacher conferences in a few weeks.
Her reply was, "I'm not worried about J. He can skip the work he missed."
Yeah, well, he could skip kindergarten entirely, but I'm hoping he'll actually learn something by going and doing work!
I don't care so much about the classwork. After all, it's probably better suited to 3 yr old Z. But I have yet to see any sort of effort from his teacher to challenge J.
She says that her own kids were all just like J. At first I took comfort in that, but now I'm wondering what she did about it back then? Did she just let her children be unchallenged in school? I hope that's not her plan for J. I'm really looking forward to parent-teacher conferences in a few weeks.
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