Reflective Renewal

Growing up, I was an avid reader.  Even on beautiful spring days when others were out biking and playing, I could be found indoors curled up with a great book.  Like so many adolescents, however, my reading habits did decline somewhat dramatically once puberty struck.  Instead, I was fixated on social relationships and boys, like so many other teen-aged girls.  If one of my teachers were to present my classmates and me with an adolescent novel filled with intrigue, secrets, and romance, we would have been hooked, though.  Trust me!

To all teachers out there reading, please don’t shy away from books such as the brand new debut novel by Jennifer R. Hubbard entitled The Secret Year.  I found this book while perusing a fantastic website called Class of 2k10, which showcases “a group of the hottest debut authors of Middle Grade and Young Adult fiction.”  This website is a fabulous resource for teens, parents, and teachers who may be seeking the latest, most enticing books for adolescents– even the most reluctant teen readers.

As soon as I began reading The Secret Year, I was hooked, and devoured the entire book in one afternoon.  As I reflected on what I found most appealing about the book, I brainstormed the following attributes:

• Hubbard beautifully captures the distinct time of adolescence. It is unlike any other developmental period in our lives, and it is filled with a unique range of emotions attributed to growth and change.
• Much of the book’s content is influenced by the social class divisions that still prominently exist in our culture.  Just when I thought, “Oh, no!  Not another Romeo & Juliet,” I immediately realized that these castes never get old.  Class divisions not only still thrive, but also still hurt us and shape us in life-changing ways.  In this book, there is a “secret year” filled with the hidden romance of an affluent girl who falls for a boy from the “wrong side of town.”
• The Secret Year places a lot of emphasis on relationships, both platonic and romantic, and so do teens.  There is no denying the essential role of relationships in humans’ lives, and this novel tenderly explores the complexities of a range of rather mature relationships.
• Journaling and letter writing have always been a vital escape and mode of expression for humans, especially adolescents.  Much of The Secret Year revolves around the pages of a diary-like series of letters written to the secret boyfriend, Colt, by the deceased, secret girlfriend, Julia.  Through the power of Julia’s writing, Colt is able to gradually mourn her sudden and unexpected loss.
• Hubbard does not shy away from a realistic portrayal of adolescent sexuality.  Handled tastefully, sexuality is openly explored within the pages of The Secret Year. Teachers and parents– there is no need to blush, though.  When adults consider the facts that most teens are sexually active, it makes sense that we provide them with respectable books that contain sexually active adolescent characters so that we may discuss the books honestly, and in ways that actually pertain to teens’ day to day lives and healthy growth.
• Although the bulk of the content of The Secret Year would typically appeal to female readers, I do think this book would also appeal to male readers, which is a rarity.  There is one integral reason behind this statement– the book is written from the perspective of Colt, the main male character, which was an ingenious choice made by Hubbard.
• Speaking of Colt, this main character was easy to like, due to his loving nature and his fantastic sense of humor.  For these reasons, among many, the book is an easy, enjoyable, quick read, which I am positive would delight many adolescent readers.  For teachers, one of the best parts is that Hubbard provides an insightful Readers’ Guide to the book on her website, which would make an excellent conversation starter in classrooms across the country.

Whether we like to acknowledge it or not, all of us seem to enjoy the allure of secrets.  So whether we are male or female, adolescent or adult, the intrigue of a range of secrets cannot be denied as a wonderful pathway into enjoying a book.  For this reason alone, many readers will enjoy The Secret Year.  Check out this book, as well as several other debut titles on the Class of 2k10 website, and entice tons of adolescent readers out there!

This is not an easy question to answer.  When I was first posed this question, I immediately thought of the important affective qualities we instill in our students, such as self-worth, self-esteem, self-confidence, etc.  How do we do that, though?  How are those essential, identity-shaping elements fostered?

Although it isn’t the only pathway, one significant and tried and true pathway is literacy. I think the greatest gift we give our students is literacy.  Literacy leads to empowerment, unlimited knowledge, and plays an inherent role in our lives, and our in our identities as Americans.  Without literacy, and without a love of literacy, citizens in this culture simply do not have the same access and power as those who do.

As a professor, I primarily teach children’s literature and literacy methods classes for teachers.  So, at the beginning of nearly every one of my courses, I ask my students, “So, what is literacy?  We’re going to be talking about it all semester, and it’s one of the most incredible skills you will teach in your careers, so what exactly is it?”  Again, this is no simple question.

I encourage my students to brainstorm this question for a while, often in small groups, and then we all re-assemble to discuss.  Commonly, we all discuss the obvious traits of literacy, such as the ability to read and write.  Often, students will also mention obvious, yet important traits such as comprehension, vocabulary, etc.  Unless I hear more in-depth responses, I prod my students by asking, “What else is literacy, though?” Often times, I also show a short video clip of functionally illiterate adults in New York City explaining their lifelong troubles related to their inability to read and write.  For them, their illiteracy equals fear, lack of opportunity, and low self-esteem.  It is at this point that all of my students are truly inspired and able to articulate that literacy is not simply the ability to read and write.  To be literate and to love literacy equals dignity, self-respect, and freedom.  Literacy is an interwoven piece of our identities; it is not just a skill to be acquired.

As educators, when we realize what a beautiful, inherent gift literacy is, we teach it more effectively and passionately.  We are human beings, after all, and we each bring our own emotional baggage to our classrooms each day, whether we realize it or not, or whether we mean to or not.  One of the hugest emotional suitcases we can bring into our classrooms is how we feel about literacy.  What was your childhood experience with learning to read and write?  Do you have cozy memories of curling up with Grandma and a book of fairy tales, or did you dread being called upon in class to read aloud?  Do you cringe every time you have to write something, or do you take joy in composing even the simplest thank you card?

In Lauree’s last blog post, she posed the delightful question, “What was your favorite book as a child?”  As teachers, it is imperative that ask ourselves not only that fun question, but also lots more questions about the role of literacy in our lives.

Many literacy scholars believe that in order to become effective teachers, we must first reflect on ourselves as readers and writers.  Moreover, we must be readers and writers in order to be effective teachers of reading and writing.  Therefore, I always ask my students to write a brief paper about their reading and writing lives.  I encourage them to have fun with this assignment.  Often times, I am impressed with the personal, touching, humorous, and nutty responses I’ve received over the years.

In order to encourage the flow of this exploration and writing, I pose the following questions, which are meant merely as guides.  Most of these questions came from the wonderful book: For a better world: Reading and writing for social action by R. and K. Bomer.

• What do you remember about your earliest reading and writing experiences?  Did someone read to you?  What was that like?
• Growing up, did you have books and writing materials?
• Currently, where are your reading spots?  Do you read in coffee shops or cozy corners?  Why?
• What are your writing spots?  How did you establish your writing environment?
• What do you currently read?
• Who recommends texts to you?
• What do you currently write?
• Most importantly, what is your literacy social network?  In other words, with whom do you discuss and have relationships surrounding books, writing, etc.?  (friends, relatives, book clubs, religious organizations, etc.)
• What are your reading/writing habits?  (Do you eat and/or drink while reading/writing?  Wiggle?  Sit still?)
• How do you think as you read?  (Do you envision the setting/characters?  What do you notice about the ways particular texts are written?)
• What gives you pleasure in reading and writing?
• Are there any aspects of your reading/writing that you attribute to your gender, ethnic group, or social class?

To all of you out there reading, I encourage you to please ask yourselves these questions, and feel free to write back or email me about this meaningful process of exploring the complex roles of literacy in our lives.

As a child, I remember visiting the library and seeing the silver emblem stickers on certain picture books that had been awarded Caldecott medals.  Honestly, although I markedly noticed the Caldecott stickers, I never gave the awards much thought.  I just loved the books.  As teachers, though, we all anxiously await the announcement of the Caldecott winners each January.  In the months previous, we also love to speculate about who might win and why.  When I am teaching children’s literature courses at the college level, I love to start off the spring semester by showing all of the winners and runners-up during class so that we may all debate about who won and why, and who may have been deservedly left out.  In previous years, those Caldecott discussions have been some of our liveliest!

For those of you who are newer to children’s literature, the Caldecott award has been given out by the American Library Association (ALA) since 1938.  According to the ALA’s website: “The Caldecott Medal was named in honor of nineteenth-century English illustrator Randolph Caldecott. It is awarded annually by the Association for Library Service to Children, a division of the American Library Association, to the artist of the most distinguished American picture book for children.”  The awards committee generally selects one Medal Winner and then sometimes a few Honor Books.

The 2010 Caldecott Medal Winner is The Lion & the Mouse, illustrated and written by Jerry Pinkney.  It is a wordless picture book version of the classic Aesop Fable.  Since I love Aesop’s Fables, and I also happen to be one of Jerry Pinkney’s biggest fans, this year’s winner is certainly no disappointment for me.  Pinkney consistently illustrates in a luscious way, always using vibrant colors and somehow conveying rich texture through illustration as though it were fabric. 

There is no denying that children simply adore picture books with animals as the main characters.  As an educator, I can also personally attest to the fact that children learn lessons in more earnest ways when the main characters happen to be animals.  Children can somehow summon more empathy and understanding for animal characters than for humans.  Since this classic fable reminds us of the importance of the underdog and the power and enchantment of unlikely friendships, the possibilities of using this book are countless.  Whether you are nestled up at home flipping through this book’s gorgeous pages, or holding it up in a classroom using it for specific teaching purposes, no one will be disappointed. 

In particular, I would recommend this book for writing lessons.  Let’s face it—we all need inspiration to write. Writing can be an extremely daunting process.  I have had continued success using wordless picture books as springboards for inspiring writing lessons.  Children of all ages love to narrate the story as they look at the illustrations.  Assist students in keeping track of their wonderful ideas, so that they can later add details and voice to their re-creations of the story.  Using wordless picture books has never failed me, and if I were you, I would be anxious to try out Pinkney’s new winner. 

Some other of my favorite wordless picture books that I recommend are:

Pancakes for Breakfast by Tomie dePaola    

The Red Book by Barbara Lehman

Flotsam by David Wiesner

To all of you out there reading:

Please share with us your favorite wordless picture books.  Have you ever had success in using wordless picture books with your students, especially with writing projects?  We’d love to read about all of your ideas!  What Caldecott-winning picture books have touched your hearts over the years? 

A new year brings new everything, including new books.  For all you teens, parents, and educators out there ready to tackle the latest titles, here is a resource to help you get started.  In particular, as teachers, we are always searching for the up-to-the-minute books on the market to tempt our adolescent readers.  For those of you who may not already be familiar with it, each year a collection of debut authors assemble to create a website to promote their new books.  This year’s website is: http://www.classof2k10.com/

The website boasts that they are “the hottest debut authors of Middle Grade and Young Adult fiction.”  Personally, I am sick of vampire books right now, but for those of you who may be seeking titles to whet the appetite of Twilight fanatics, there are plenty of titles on the Class of 2k10 website to satiate your tastes.  A non-vampire title that immediately caught my attention was Of all the stupid things by Alexandra Diaz.   

One of the attributes of this book that I enjoyed the most was its narration style.  Of all the stupid things is written from the first-person perspectives of three best friends, so each of their voices and each of their views are clear to the reader.  Each chapter heading reveals which of the three friends—Tara, Whitney Blaire, or Pinkie, will be narrating the chapter. Tara is an athlete struggling with rumors about her boyfriend, as well as emerging, unfamiliar feelings she is experiencing for the mysterious new girl in town.  Whitney Blaire is the quintessential rich girl who seemingly has it all, yet lacks a true sense of self worth.  In navigating the loss of her own mother, Pinkie becomes the mother hen and worry wart to all of her friends.

I was touched by the raw vulnerability of each of the characters in Diaz’s well-crafted story.  One of the most compelling lessons in the book comes the complex relationship Pinkie maintains with her deceased mother.  By writing notes to and talking to her dead mother, Pinkie attempts to work through issues in her day-to-day life.  It is at the end of the book, when Pinkie finally says good-bye to and lets go of her mother that she can move forward into a new chapter of her life.  I was also struck by the astute persistence of Tara, the athlete.  Diaz carefully captured the attuned perception of an athlete, and how runners find solace and therapy in their exertion.  Tara was able to sift through difficult relationships in her life by training for a marathon.  Towards the end of the book, when Tara pursues an intimate relationship with the new girl in town, Diaz tenderly and respectfully allows the reader to experience all of the “firsts” that come with any new love.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      

As I reflect on this book, I am not sure if I would use it in a classroom setting, although I would highly recommend it to adolescent girls for outside of school reading.  And let’s be honest—out-of-school literacies are often more influential and identity-shaping than in-school literacies, anyway.  That said, I would still encourage teachers to not shy away from these topics, either.  Girls need and deserve safe classroom spaces to discuss and explore topics such as gender, sexuality, mourning, friendships, and other sensitive issues.  Literature is one powerful pathway for those conversations.

Last, I would just like to re-emphasize what an asset Diaz’s book is simply because of its narration style. Since each chapter is written from the perspective of a different character, readers are able to get an up-close glimpse at each girls’ feelings and perspectives, which helps adolescents develop deeper comprehension skills and critical thinking strategies—a bonus in any book!  

Check out Of all the stupid things by Alexandra Diaz, as well as lots of other fascinating new titles on http://www.classof2k10.com/

I posed this question to my Facebook friends recently and the flood of replies seemed to signal how much we all relish the chance to be kids again.

More than the titles of books, I saw in the responses a sincere joy in remembering the sensory feel of the pages, the vivid illustrations, and where they were or who they were with when they first discovered reading. There also were the lingering lessons:

• You can be anything you chose to be
• Make yourself happy
• It’s possible to give yourself completely to another person
• Unabashedly be yourself
• Even in the toughest of situations, you can be brave (and thrive)
• Be kind to others, including animals
• War is useless
• Your challenge can also be your greatest gift
• It’s fun to be silly
• You’re not alone

These lessons have shaped us, and shaped the decisions we’ve made throughout our lives in a way that only our core values can do.

I’ve blogged before about values. They can come from any number of places – your experiences, what was instilled in you by others, or what you were born believing. Once a belief is introduced, we often use what happens around us — more specifically, our viewpoint of what is happening — as a proof point that it must be true.

Take for example, The Wizard of Oz. Reading it one could believe, or find proof, that a magical world is waiting to be discovered out the front door. Or, that there’s no place like home, so stay close to it. Same book, completely different lesson and resulting perspective on opportunities that arise in our lives.

Values, no matter how unquestionable they seem or how long you have held them to be true, are not hard-and-fast rules. You always have a choice about what you believe.

I love talking about choice. As a life coach, I host guided conversations on this topic. It’s amazing what can happen when we step outside ourselves and see how much change we can affect just through our perspective.

Look at any situation in your life right now, from the relationship with your mother to a disagreement in the checkout line. What would it be like if this wasn’t happening to you, if you were watching it unfold in a book instead? Suddenly each person involved (including you) are “characters” with their own needs, motivations, fears and desires. As an objective reader, you can see what led to this point and what might happen to change the outcome.

From this perspective, how might all of the characters get what they really need?

Not only is stepping outside of a situation useful for working with values and perspective in your own life, it brings new meaning to role of parents and teachers. Children’s minds are being shaped, and lasting values are being forged at every moment. Though we can’t control what they take with them or how it’s used later, your contribution is immensely powerful. More, in fact, than you can realize.

Makes me think that my next Facebook question should be – who was your favorite teacher and why? Stay tuned!

Have you ever felt afraid to do something simply because you were alone?

As an only child, that is a familiar concept to me. As a matter of fact, I think one of the many reasons that Lauree and I are such good friends is because we are both only children, and we had one another’s back at several points growing up… and today.

Why go it alone when we can all rely on a little help from our friends?

That is the concept behind a 2008 autumn-themed book written and illustrated by Carin Berger entitled Little Yellow Leaf. As I sit here staring at the last of the autumn leaves to fall, I am drawn to this book even more. As most teachers do, I love autumn, and I was getting bored with the same, old autumn books I had been reading for many years. Little Yellow Leaf is a refreshing, modern look at autumn, with sleek, contemporary collaged illustrations and a powerful message. One frightened, lonely, yellow leaf isn’t quite ready yet to let go of the tree yet. Even as Little Yellow Leaf watches all of the other leaves fall, it still can’t quite muster the courage to let go and trust that everything will be okay. That is, until, Little Yellow Leaf finds a leaf companion with whom to take the plunge. They decide to surrender together, and let’s face it– together is a great way to go. We don’t always have to face our fears alone. Every once in a while, the support and trust of loving others can make a tremendous difference in officially facing the fears, and tackling the fears more permanently.

As teachers, I find we are often isolated behind the walls and doors of our classrooms. It is absolutely essential to establish and maintain active, healthy relationships with other teachers to share and ponder life’s difficulties. In fact, I think we construct knowledge within the context of relationships. We need to pay attention to the textures of quality and trust in relationships in order to allow new knowledge to flourish.

Teachers all agree that affective and relational dimensions should be emphasized in the education of young children. Why don’t we consider our emotions and relationships in the education of every individual, regardless of age? Adolescents and adults all deserve this attention to the emotional, relational qualities of their education, too.

To all of you reading out there—how do you foster and utilize relationships to learn and grow in your own teaching practice? Have there ever been times when you just couldn’t go it alone, yet found solace in the relational support of a colleague? In the same ways you honor the emotions and friendships of your students, how do you respect your own feelings and the relationships in your own life, as an adult and educator?

As teachers, do you ever feel misunderstood and yearn for a school where you share a common vision and can easily collaborate with others?  Well, you are not alone.  I often feel that way.

I couldn’t help but think of those same, vulnerable feelings when I re-read Maurice Sendak’s 1963 picture book Where the Wild Things Are in anticipation of the newly released film version of the book.  Max felt misunderstood.  He was perceived as naughty.  He longed to be in community with others who understood him.  Max didn’t want to be alone.  As a teacher and teacher educator, I have frequently felt this way.

Reflection often happens in isolation.  In our busy lives, the only time we have to reflect is within the walls of our own minds or classrooms.  While this is an important step in professional growth, it should by no means be the final step. We need to talk to others about our experiences.  It’s an important part of our growth and of our identities.  “We not only learn from others–we learn from ourselves by talking and interacting with others. When the process of reflection involves others, we enhance our ability to determine and to shape our own educational philosophies, instruction, and responsibilities to students’ growth” (Woodcock, 2004).  

Our understandings become more real and clearer as teachers speak about them to each other. As this process involves the close scrutiny of personal beliefs, an atmosphere of trust is essential for meaningful, collaborative reflection to happen. We need to stay openminded, responsible, and wholehearted in order to foster the trusting environment that encourages collaborative reflection. As we reflect by writing and speaking with others, we are led to question and revisit our teaching from different perspectives.

Like Max, we need not be alone.  We need not feel misunderstood.  Don’t allow yourself to feel “naughty” for feeling the way you do.  Your feelings are valid.  You deserve to be in a community of trusted, like-minded others.  Trust me, there is no perfect school.  I tried traveling around the country to look!  Like Max, I ended up right back at home where I started.  Instead, now I rely on my various support networks to listen and to provide insights.  Allow yourself to do the same.

To all of you readers out there– Where/who are your support networks?  How do you avoid isolation?  How can we and others help?

If you’d like to read more about collaboration and reflection, I published a brief article in 2004 entitled “How Does Collaborative Reflection Play a Role in a Teacher Researcher’s Beliefs About Herself and Her Teaching?: Discovering the Power of Relationships” that was published in The Journal of Natural Inquiry & Reflective Practice.

I just moved recently and, while unpacking, sheepishly remarked to Christine how I like fancy things. “I have the perfect book,” she said: Fancy Nancy by Jane O’Connor. She’s right – I’m convinced it is about me.

For my coaching blog at Simply Leap I wrote that I love cocktail parties and seeing art films with subtitles. I like going to the cafe for pain au chocolat, mostly so I can say the name. My parents can attest to me, as a child, always ordering something exotic sounding on a menu even if I had no idea what it was. Ok, I still do that today.

Like Nancy, I also do not understand people who like plain vanilla ice cream. Not even sprinkles on top?

The lesson for me in Fancy Nancy is to share your individuality with the world, and to be appreciated for it.

It is also about values. I think most of us think we know our values without stopping to consider what they are.

Case in point: fancy. Reading Fancy Nancy I was reminded how I have always thought of it as an interest, not on par with health and career, my “real” values.

Truth is, fancy influences my decisions and contributes to my overall happiness – indicators that it is a value.

So now I can more unabashedly cherish my fancy-ness, my joie de vivre if you will, and share that sheer delight with other people.

By understanding and owning our values, we get to more fully accept ourselves. And, as you teach your students, accepting yourself means others can witness and accept all that is you.

It’s a great gift that we can give to each other.

How do you introduce values in the classroom? What role do they play in your own life?

Christine wrote this week about reflection as it relates to the book and movie: Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs.

As a coach and avid photographer what I found in the pages was inspiration for my own creativity — and I hope for yours too.

As Christine experienced in her classroom of 4th graders, the book is a palate for the imagination and allows each of us to see that anything in our everyday lives can be a source for creative imagining. A snowy hillside and a pancake misfired from the pan to a stack of papers to grade or your car keys on the kitchen table. There is life in every object around us, all it takes is an extra moment to consider what it is saying/showing us.

When I hired my first coach in 2003, I did so to be more creative without leaving my day job. It took me in a lot of directions. The most profound one was to realize how I was already creative. You are too.

Have doubts? Well, for one, you are already creative in the classroom. Creating lessons to challenge the minds of your students, and the ability to rework them on the fly. Your classroom is not the only place you are creative though.

Where else? Maybe you are an artist. I can say for sure that you see the world in a unique way from everyone else you know. Whether it’s imagining the shapes of clouds while daydreaming out your window, or how you organize a grocery list based on the aisles of your local store, you come to the world in your own way.

To me, the beauty of Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs, is that it reminds us to take that time and look around. What are the things in your life that you take for granted? Look around you right now…go on. What everyday objects catch your eye? Look closer. What would they say, do, if they were suddenly animated in this moment? What other forms might they take before your eyes?

Imagination is not limited to the playground. It is in all of us. A muscle that we always have access to, even if it’s a little rusty. By tapping into it daily, just by stopping to look around, you have the opportunity for downtime, for inspiration and for connecting to the child inside. What could be more worthwhile than that?

How do these Hollywood screenwriters create an entire feature-length film out of a simple children’s picture book?

In the case of the recent release of Sony Picture’s “Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs,” which was based on the 1978 children’s picture book of the same name by Judi Barnett and illustrated by Ron Barnett, I think there may be at least two explanations.  First, the book contains rich description, which I always loved as a teacher to inspire my students to write with vivid details.

Second, as is the case with so many wonderful children’s books, while Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs may seem like a simple picture book, it actually contains a great deal of complexity in its simple pages.  The concept of food falling from the sky is obviously creative, fun, and unique.  Imagine the possibilities!

While engaged in writing instruction with my 4th graders in Vermont several years ago, I asked the children to write their own, original versions of Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs.  Not surprisingly, they soared with this assignment, and it proved to be some of their best writing of the year.  The book itself already served as a perfect role model.  Then, I did some brief, explicit instruction on how to add lots of descriptive details about the food, and the results were incredible—delicious, really!  There is nothing like reading a story with excellent, image-filled description.  We took the simple concept of food falling from the sky, and allowed any complexities to flourish.

As teachers, I think there are powerful lessons to be taken away from this Cloudy recollection.  One idea that I can’t get out of my head is that teachers are always asked to reflect, yet are rarely shown how to reflect.

So, what is reflection, anyway? We all know it’s important, yet are we doing it?  Are we doing it correctly?  Even our website is called Reflective Renewal, for goodness sake!

Well, much of purposeful reflection comes from rich description, so in much the same way I love Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs for its descriptive nature and how it inspired my 4th graders to describe in vivid details, I ask teachers to do the same.  As educators, when we encounter a situation that requires reflection (it may be an issue, a conflict, a perplexity) first describe it in detail.  Until you have thoroughly described the situation, you cannot move forward to the next step, which is analysis.

Let’s face it—in order to really analyze a situation, one must first have all of the details. So, once a teacher has thoroughly described the situation, she may then analyze it.  This analysis may happen best in trusted community with others, so that several perspectives can be offered and considered.

Once some analysis has occurred, then the teacher can begin to take intelligent action and grow to move on to the next experience.  Moving forward in this meaningful way is much better than dropping a situation like a hot potato, or ignoring it all together.  With a little courage and support from others, we don’t need to avoid sticky situations, and we can move forward instead of staying stuck or even regressing.

So, let’s all take some inspiration from the imaginative, descriptive writing of Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs and our creative 4th graders when it comes to our own reflection.

To all of you readers out there– As teachers and as women, on what do you wish to reflect?  What’s going on in your lives that could use a gentle nudge from a supportive community?

If you’d like to read more about reflection, I published a brief article in 2004 entitled “How Does Collaborative Reflection Play a Role in a Teacher Researcher’s Beliefs About Herself and Her Teaching?: Discovering the Power of Relationships” that was published in The Journal of Natural Inquiry & Reflective Practice.