Flying Lemurs and a Fabulous Librarian

Back in December, with the holidays rapidly approaching, our school librarian, Allison Brown, got busy and handcrafted holiday paper stars to raise funds for our library. She sold them at our school and around the community for just $5.

The money added up and soon she had a total of $1,160 dollars. With those funds she purchased 60 non-fiction animal books for the library shelves. To commemorate their arrival, Ms. Brown and children from three second grade classes gathered in front of our school for a photograph.  Each child is holding up one of the 60 brand new library books.

The students aren’t the only ones who benefited from Ms. Brown’s labors; I snagged one of the new books to use with a language group this week: Flying Lemurs by Willow Clark.

My speech kids were divided as to whether the animal was really cute or really ugly, but they all agreed the flying lemur, or “colugo,” was fascinating. To begin with, though they are called flying lemurs, they don’t fly (they glide) and they are not actually lemurs.

“They are called lemurs because their faces look like lemurs’ faces.”

This shy, large-squirrel-sized mammal rarely leaves the trees in the rainforest where they live. They simply glide through the air, moving from tree to tree. Their camouflaging fur looks similar to the lichen growing on trees in their habitat, but still, they have to keep an eye out for predators such as Philippine eagles. When I read the page about predators to a group of girls, they gasped in unison and Esmeralda pulled the book close, as if to protect the vulnerable colugo.

This book is peppered with new vocabulary words, all in bold print.

“Both kinds of flying lemurs are arboreal, meaning they live in trees. Just about everything they need is found in the treetops of the tropical rain forest habitats in which they live. Flying lemurs are nocturnal. This means they are active mostly at night.”

If a child misses the meaning of a word within the text, or simply wants to review a new vocabulary word, there is a handy glossary in the back of the book.

Our students are lucky to have a growing library. They eagerly file in each week to choose a special book to carry home. Some choose nonfiction, like Flying Lemurs, and these kids journey through the pages to places in the world they are unlikely to visit in person – or perhaps they will. Perhaps the book will ignite a dream and one day they’ll travel to new regions and new personal horizons. These children may become our future biologists, anthropologists or teachers. 

Some kids gravitate toward fiction and when they find a good story they often find a character who will become a companion, housed in their imagination for years to come. They may also experience the first stirrings of a desire to create characters and stories of their own. I’ve seen it repeatedly in my speech room. After listening to a good story, the kids often beg to write one of their own.

I’m grateful to Allison Brown who funded and selected the 60 new books now on our shelves. She continually finds creative ways to expand our library and introduce our students to great books. I’m also grateful to librarians, writers, parents, and teachers everywhere who instill a love of books in today’s children. We will all reap the benefits. 

Pirates vs. Cowboys, Learning & Laughing

Pirates vs. Cowboys brought some old fashioned fun to the speech room this week. My students have been in love with Aaron Reynolds’ storytelling talents ever since I read his book Creepy Carrots last October. This latest book has further established his place in their hearts. And the kids loved David Barneda’s engaging illustrations, especially the expressive pirate crab and cowboy cactus.

When Burnt Beard, the Pirate, swaggered into Old Cheyenne, the pirate-cowboy showdown began (and so did the student-giggles.) The kids had a hard time deciphering what those rascally pirates and cantankerous cowboys were trying to say to one another. It was no wonder that cowboy Black Bob McKraw didn’t realize he was not being insulted when Burnt Beard said,

 “Ahoy there, me hearties! Be ye knowin’ where we’d be findin’ a fair scrub and a swish?”

Black Bob rode up real close to Burnt Beard. “What’d you call us, ya yellow-bellied varmints?” was Black Bob’s reply. “Why don’t ya mangy hornswogglers beat a trail of dust right back out of Old Cheyenne!”

My students couldn’t figure out what those colorful characters were trying to say but they laughed at the sound of these words and then took a guess at their meaning.  We had a nice conversation about communication and the importance of the words we use.  When I read,

None of them cowboys spoke Pirate, and none of them pirates spoke Cowboy! And that’s a recipe for trouble.

Joden called out, “None of those cowboys.” And after listening to,

“You rootin’-tootin’ critters better head fer the hills, or yer gonna get horsewhipped and hogtied like there’s no tomorrow!”

Haley said, “That means get out pirates!”

This story may not model appropriate grammar or typical vocabulary but it inspired my students to notice both and it opened a good discussion on communication.  It also inspired some creative endeavors. In a kindergarten group, one student dictated his own story, full of thieving pirates, stolen animals, and a treasure – one puppy, bright gold, the color of a gold-covered chocolate coin. 

I asked a group of first grade students to replace “pirates” and “cowboys” with different characters and we had an enthusiastic brainstorming session. Before long, they began creating their own stories. Zayd told a tale of Ninja vs. Robots, Madisyn started one about Ballerinas vs. Fairies, and Joden (ever the comedian) began a tale of a Dog-person vs. Cheetah – “a big one doing the happy dance.” I’m curious to see how that one comes out. Actually, I’m curious to see how they all come out; they are off to a good start. I feel privileged to see such creative minds at work and to have the opportunity to introduce them to a good story, like Aaron Reynolds, Pirates vs. Cowboys.

Spring Break!

This past week our schools have been closed for Spring Break and on Tuesday I hiked to a nearby waterfall for a time of quiet contemplation. I’ve been extremely busy for the last month – reports and meetings at work, new financial responsibilities at home, and self-imposed writing and blogging “obligations.” And so, in keeping with my “intention” for this year (think resolution but with less guilt), which was to strive for balance, I decided to tip the scales in the opposite direction and enjoy a time of leisure.

There is a lovely waterfall in Russian Gulch State Park, not far from where I live. I drove inland to catch a shortcut and hiked through the redwoods, breathing in the scent of new spring growth. Lush fog-tended ferns lined the trail and wild rhododendrons reached their spindly branches through a canopy of Douglas fir and redwoods. 

Western Trillium brightened the forest floor and the path was padded with last year’s needles and bark.

I brought my iPad along so I could take a few pictures. (Perhaps one day I’ll buy a camera.) I wanted a few shots for this blog post but I planned to slip the iPad into my backpack and ignore it for the most part. After all, the idea behind my hike was to retreat from responsibilities – self-imposed or otherwise.  But I got wrapped up in taking pictures and thinking of how I might use them on my blog or with my students. That made me start thinking of school and the reports that I’ll need to write next week. My mind skipped around between jobs to do at home and work, books I planned to read, friends I wanted to spend time with, and projects I planned to work on during my break.

When I arrived at the waterfall, I was delighted to find I had the place to myself. There are a couple rough hewn benches and I settled onto one, then grabbed my iPad to snatch a few pictures of the falls. 

I moved in for a close-up and the roar of the water spilling over rocks and around fallen trees was almost musical.

No, actually it was very musical. At first I thought my mind was playing tricks on me, but no, it was actual music I was hearing. I was disappointed, thinking my solitude was about to end. I assumed there were hikers approaching with a blaring radio but I was wrong. When I held the iPad up to get one last shot, the music grew louder. It was coming from my iPad.

Now I must tell you, I’ve never listened to music on my iPad before. I have over one hundred educational apps so I reserve the space for those and for photographs. But somewhere along the line, I must have downloaded this one album, Come Darkness, Come Light by Mary Chapin Carpenter. And somehow, with the glare on my iPad I didn’t notice that, out of my one hundred-plus apps, my finger hit the music icon, and started playing the third song on this album, “Still, Still, Still.” Those were actually the only words I could hear, “Still, still, still, (roar of water,) still, still, still.” It was a message I needed.

My scampering thoughts had crowded out any chance for contemplative ones, but that word, “still” stopped the internal whirr.  I walked over to the bench, turned off the music and slipped the iPad into my backpack. I sat for a moment before pulling out my journal. When I opened it, the first thing I saw was a quote I’d copied several months ago,

“Be still and know that I am God.” Psalm 46:10.

That was enough. I didn’t need to read further. I wrote a few notes in my journal and tucked it away so I could sit and enjoy the stillness.

Whatever your belief system, whatever your religion or lack thereof, we all need times to be still and enjoy the beauty of nature, time to reflect so that we can bring a richness to our relationships with others. Our students, children, families, readers and friends will all benefit when we nourish our souls.

Spring Break is almost over but my hope is that I’ll carry some of this stillness into the coming weeks. And I hope the same for you.