I can only remember three times that I was ever given 'constructive criticism' in elementary (primary) school.
The first time was in preschool: I was being bossy and tried taking away the napkin distribution responsibility from a boy named Derrick. I was five-years-old and I remembered being put in my place from that day forward. I learned that I should share and that other people are fully capable of doing the classroom jobs--I didn't have to do everything.
The second time was in kindergarten: I was six-years-old now and tried to be 'cool.' A staff member knocked on our door and Mrs. Fulk answered the door and got into a quite lengthy conversation with her colleague. The entire class--other than my best friend, Dee--got out of their seats and roamed about, playing with toys, running, and talking loudly. I waited with Dee until I thought, "We can't all get into trouble," so I got up and joined everyone else to have fun. When Mrs. Fulk finished her conversation and turned around, she was pretty furious with the class and ordered, "Anyone who is out of their seat, pull a stick." This meant that we were going to have to 'stand on the wall' while the rest of the class got to enjoy their recess for one day. Other than learning that being cool was not my forte, I learned to respect the classroom setting.
The third time was in second grade: Now a mature eight-year-old who knew her place and respected the classroom environment, I thought I had everything figured out. My handwriting was an issue with a certain capital J, apparently. I liked to put a horizontal line at the tops of my Js and my teacher would rather have a capital J sans topper. I continued to cross my Js until around Christmastime of that school year when I was fed-up of having points deducted every time I wrote a capital J. That year, I learned that my strong will and conviction may have to be set aside to appease the people in charge (and that not everything is worth fighting over).
The approach for guiding my academic success back in good ole Ohio must have been shaped through whole class teaching and positive reinforcement when I did something well. Writing tasks were usually given more notes and feedback, but usually my assignments received a letter or number (out of three) grade. If I got an A or a 3, then I got the picture: I did well. Anything less than that, then I also got the picture: try harder next time.
In England, it's a little different. From the age of four, children are expected to go to school for a full day and begin reading, writing, and arithmetic from day one. When I became a teacher here, I was expected to make children re-write any misspellings of words displayed on the board three times each and correct every missing capital letter or punctuation mark in all subjects. On top of this, for every third piece of work, even if a child submitted a perfect piece of work, he or she was given the assignment back to complete a challenge (extra credit) because apparently the task was too easy for them. So it's similar to my experience of getting corrected for my capital J a few times when I was eight-years-old, but instead hearing about it nine times a day, every day, from the age of four.
Since I've had Jackson, I know that I have become a more caring and understanding teacher who critiques with an Ohio-style approach. I'll admit that if someone gets something perfect, then I praise them and instead of making them do more work, I change my plans and give them a slightly more challenging activity for the next lesson. Guilty! I also do not make the seven-year-old children that I teach correct every misspelling or every missing capital letter; instead, I plan for time to practise these skills. Guilty, again!
Having made it two-thirds of the way through the year, I have seen no detrimental effects to teaching this way and giving feedback in my 'new' (old Ohio) way. So, for at least one of their twelve years or more of schooling, I hope to give my students a respite from the endless torment of corrections and feeling like they did something wrong.
Celebrating Easter at his Great-Grandpa's house
Our little Sweetie Pie with his new Easter bunny
Opening presents from the Easter Bunny
He found his way into his first Cadbury Creme Egg
His best solution to collecting all of the eggs on his hunt around the house
Jackson's reply to hearing about the over-crowding on United Airlines
Exploring the sheds at Dobbies Garden Centre
Developmental updates: This week, Jackson has amazed us with his building animal sound and word repertoire. Today, he said a sentence: "Go away, Dad." We were at a garden centre and he was trying to explore the playhouse displays uninhibited. He can hiss like a snake, bark like a dog, quack like a duck, and moo like a cow. His other sound effects are beep and vroom for cars and choo choo for trains. Jackson can also say shoes (sounds like "whose"), daddy, mama, yes, no, bottle (sounds like "bup"). To communicate that it's windy, he also reaches up to swirl his hair around. Other than these new words and sounds, Jackson has become more affectionate towards us and is giving us more hugs and kisses. From his nursery teachers, we found out that he cried at the end of We're Going on a Bear Hunt so they had to read it again. We love our little bibliophile!
If you see Sammie Miles Davis, Jr. and Bella, give them my love.


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