A year of thinking (2015)

Posted on December 24, 2015 by carriegelson

Yesterday, I published a list of favourite book lists I have posted on this blog in 2015. I said it in the post and I will say it again here: I make a lot of lists.

But here and there, I do some thinking.

Sometimes it is reflective. Some of it is not quite clear. Writing it down means I figure some of it out. Some of it has “rantish” leanings. But all of it captures my journey as a teacher, a reader, a human.

Today, I honour the posts that best capture my year . . . in thoughts. Putting this together was an interesting process. A healthy, emotional process.

In January, I gave voice to the not so wonderful Monday: Monday leads to Friday Sometimes it is all about hanging in!

From this post:

On some Mondays, I question whether I have it together at all. A lot seems to not be yet “in synch” and the previous week feels very long ago. Monday often feels like a warm up, remind ourselves, get it together day. I don’t often say TGIF. But I often think TGMIO. TGMIO = Thank Goodness Monday is Over. Monday is the day when we don’t have the cushion of success immediately behind us. Anxiety is higher. Stamina is lower. Energy is inconsistent. When Monday is under our belt, it’s like the clouds part. The sun creeps in or sometimes it lights up the week bright and strong on Tuesday and holds fast.

A year of thinking (2015)

In March I fully celebrated all things book nerdy: Nerding Out I attended not one, but two literacy conferences and the first EVER nErDCamp Bellingham.

From this post:

And yes, I love all of this – the authors, the illustrators and the literacy love. But why do I love it so much? Because I can share it with my students.

Their book love is my book love.

Our passion for literacy is always, I hope, transformative.

In April, there were some rocky weeks. But I fuelled up on what was always around me: Fuel

From this post:

Every so often though, I need to gather fuel. Fuel to recharge when there are lots of hard moments. This week, I celebrate that thanks to some sunshine, some impressive and supportive colleagues and the laughter and smiles of the children I work with, I found the energy to go looking for that fuel. And of course, I found it. Right there. Where it always is. All around me. Waiting to be noticed. Ready to shine the light.

In April, I also began the process of letting go: Three Years Only a few months left of sharing a classroom everyday with a group of children (many for a full 3 years).

From this post:

It has been a very special gift to teach so many children for so long. I may never have this opportunity again and I know it. All children teach me so much. These children have been particularly influential. This is my 20th year at this school and I don’t think I have ever been so full of change and possibility. Wanting the room to be full of learning and security for these children has pushed me to risk take and shift and reassess constantly. My learning has been perhaps the most rich.

When school was really over in June, we were all ready: Goodbyes

From this post:

Yes, we had some tears. Yes, there were lots of hugs. But most of all there was security. When you build something great together, it still stands when you step away. Somehow, quietly, we all knew this.

And so . . . our goodbyes were full of gratitude, of smiles, of honouring what we have built. And of knowing that it is in each of us.

I am so lucky to be a teacher. So lucky to work with such wonderful children. Today, I celebrate that.

Big breath.

In July, I shared Sunday Morning Perspective all about knowing what is really important in the classroom: community.

From this post:

Our classroom is its own community. What we build is ours. The learning environment is a safe haven and that is powerful and necessary for many children.

In August, I was thinking full steam ahead – all about my new to me readers and reminding myself to go slow: Literacy Nest Building 101

From this post:

I need to dust off my patient self and approach this new group with more experience, deeper commitment and careful and best intentions. I want to do it right. Wrap them in book love and let them settle. Not squeeze too tight. Let the books do their thing. Build a literary nest in which to nurture these new readers. When we fly, we will soar. But first there is going to be a little bit of bumbling about. Some falls. Some reading journeys that need more lift off. The right wind. Smoother landings. We will get there. One book at a time. Shared together. Shared between us.

I was also getting all bothered by the prospect of evaluation overkill and wrote this in my head and in scratchy scrawls (stopping at bus stop benches as I shopped for vegetables, to write down my thoughts in a notebook): The Power of Observation My “rant” about all that we can know by watching.

From this post:

The wonderful thing about observation? I can gather information all day, every day as we continue to engage in our daily learning. The power of observation. Over time. In many different activities. With children we know and have relationships with. It gives us so much more than any paper and pencil task will ever do.

We don’t need to fill our first weeks with students with assessments. We need to let the learning begin. Everything we need to know is happening right in front of us if we just pay attention.

September brought a new class. New needs. Some of them surprising. Deeper literacy needs than I was initially prepared for . . . But I found a way to celebrate the challenge: Celebration: From Here

From this post:

I feel worried. I feel little moments of desperate. This isn’t grade 1 where my task is to grow readers from non readers. This is grade 2 and 3 where I must now grow readers and play all kinds of catch up. I feel responsible. But most importantly, I feel urgent. And this is what I celebrate – the urgency of my task. The advocacy that needs to happen. My determination. It is fierce. My fear. It is motivating. My breath. It keeps me grounded. Somehow, someway, we are going to change things for these children.

A Sunday Reflection in November: Honest Truths, Metaphorical Whales and the “in between” place Meeting Marla Frazee “steadied my boat” on a rainy November morning and helped me back to a steady shore.

From this post:

I am a teacher. A teacher who believes firmly in the gift of literacy. I am a conduit between authors and illustrators who have magic to give and the children who need to receive it. And when I can, I reflect it back. I love nothing more than to share how very beloved stories are in a community of little readers. I am blessed to sit “in between“- in the middle of the book makers and the readers and listeners who they make these books for.

In December, after one sleep into the holiday break I wrote (Brief) Ramblings and the Happiness Train. Sometimes, we need to embrace our inner silly and capture the energy of childhood.

From this post:

There is something freeing about leaping about and laughing with a bunch of five to eight year olds along for the ride. Freeing and needed.

Finally, one of my little guys leaped in front of us. “This is the terminus! Last stop!” he shouted. And, we all agreed. The children ran off, lighter, ready for the last ten minutes of playtime. I walked inside, lighter, but loaded down with connection, calm and the feeling of “just right.”

A year of thoughts. What a year. So happy to be a teacher, a learner and a thinker who still has much to figure out.

Best to everyone who reads this blog – I also learn so much from each of you!

What also happens here?

Posted on March 25, 2014 by carriegelson

Just over a month ago, I wrote this post: The Part That is True It is about a boy named “Harry” and how he learns, what he needs and how he is viewed. It is about how we honour each child. About adult judgement. About asking ourselves as educators: Is my classroom safe and inclusive for all learners?

I wrote this post because I needed to write it. I needed to put what I was feeling into words and I needed to strengthen my resolve to continue advocating for all of the children like Harry who will walk through my classroom door and be a part of my life. That this post spoke to so many others was more than encouraging. The comments and feedback gave me hope and allowed me to engage with so many about how we work with the children in our classrooms.

But something else happened. Some teachers contacted me privately and talked about their struggles to support some of the students in their room. It wasn’t about the child so much as the system. The lack of supports. Other staff who didn’t share their philosophy. They talked about overwhelming needs, safety concerns and children who are experiencing a lot of stress.

Two things struck me. One, always the frustration was not about the child. Two, we don’t often talk about this. At least not out in the open.

Why?

Part of it is that so many of us who are sharing about what happens in our classrooms and schools, focus on the positive. And so we should. We highlight and showcase the wonderful. This speaks to our optimism. Our ability to find joy in the everyday landscape of a learning community. It is where we start each day and what we carry with us to be able to keep doing and loving this work.

Another part is that by talking about our struggles with upset and behaviour, we are cautious. We want to protect privacy. We don’t want to judge. We don’t want to tell the story that sometimes things are really hard. Because even though it is about what children do, we know it is about so much more.

And I think we also feel in some ways like it is an admission of not being able to cope. That if things are challenging, we are not managing. It takes large amounts of inner strength to take a breath in the middle of a child’s “outburst” and say, “This is about so much more than me.” And then to take charge, ensure safety, and help to keep everyone’s self worth intact.

It is easy to think this isn’t happening in other classrooms. I consistently share moments of happiness and joy and celebration. But the truth is that there is also drama and trauma.

Honestly, sometimes I read blog posts from other educators and think, wow. Wow, but how do they do that? I can’t get there because of things that are going on. Like the challenges transitioning back in from recess. The child who can’t manage change and is under the desk. The child who won’t come on that beautiful nature walk and so we all need to go back inside because we don’t have the staff to supervise everyone. From the conversations I have been having with other educators, other people are feeling exactly the same thing. They are also making the assumption that the struggles are not happening in these other classrooms that are so full of learning and passion.

My classroom is where beautiful learning happens. Joy. Happiness. Growth.

But, what also happens here?

Sometimes large amounts of upset. Aggression. Crying. Screaming. Hiding. Under the table. Behind a shelf. In the cloakroom. Running out of the room. Refusing to come in from outside. Games get thrown to the ground. A carefully constructed tower is kicked over. There has been biting. Pushing. Pinching. A few times we have had to get everyone out of the room and call for help to deescalate a child.

Those things also happen. In my room.

This post is not about all of these questions: Why? Who is responsible? How do we fix it? Those are big questions that I am not tackling now.

This post is just to remind us all that we are not alone. As we teach and learn and work with children – through the joy and the challenges, we are all in this together.

Make the Time: 15 things that matter

Posted on March 21, 2014 by carriegelson

Time There is only so much of it in each school day.

I always tend to get introspective after a few days away from the classroom so part way through Spring Break I have been thinking about things . . . Specifically what matters in terms of time and how we spend it? What are the things I really want to honour? What things need to be happening?

Here’s my list

Make the Time . . .

For Joy

There needs to be happiness and celebration as we learn. In our classroom, this is where we begin.

For Gratitude

We have a Gratitude Circle at least once a week where we share something we feel grateful about. Sharing our happiness and what we appreciate is a gift to others. Gathering in a circle to breathe, share and be calm is powerful. Especially on Halloween 🙂

To Play

Play happens daily in our classroom. It lets us get creative, solve problems, practice negotiation and always, helps to build our social skills. Plus, of course, it is FUN!

To Be Lost in a Book

I always say, “Being lost in a book is the best place to be.” If there is lots of time for reading, there is more likelihood this will happen. Often.

To Read Aloud

Read aloud builds community. And of course so many amazing literacy skills are practiced: listening stamina. appreciation for the sound of language, sense of story, inference and prediction skills, etc.

To Calm and Regroup

Sometimes after very exciting activities (like pumpkin carving) we need down time (like reading to our pumpkins). Balance.

To Breathe

We do mindful breathing three times a day. When our K/1 buddies come up for buddy reading, we participate altogether. This daily time to center and focus means something.

For Mentorship

Some of the best teaching is not done by me.

For Time Spent with lots of Adults

Lots of interactions for many reasons. Here is a student sharing his great reading with supervision aides and office staff just before recess.

For Time with Different Ages

Playtime outside with our K/1 buddies = lots of fun. Building relationships is what it is all about.

For the Mess

When we do interesting things and make discoveries, there are things everywhere. Clean up is easy. Thinking is messy.

To Switch it up

Sometimes, we need to abandon a lesson and go in a different direction. Here I had planned a place value review. The students needed to be architects. So we were architects and we demonstrated our knowledge of hundreds, tens and ones the next day.

To Work Together

Great learning happens when we stand back and let the children figure it out together. And of course wearing blue lab gloves and working with fancy coloured water makes it all the more interesting . . .

For Upset

Because it happens. We get sad. Mad. Frustrated. Grumpy. Mean. We are a community and we need to weather it together. The learning is in the acceptance, the forgiveness and the moving on.

To Laugh

Right?

These are fifteen things I value.

Also significant? What I didn’t put on the list . . .

What about you? What would be on your list of what matters? Please share in the comments!

The part that is true

Posted on February 8, 2014 by carriegelson

I know a boy named Harry.

He may be in my class this year. It might have been last. It may have been ten years ago. For the purposes of this post, I will write about him as if he is a current student. He might be.

He may be a real boy or part of many boys.

Every detail may be exact. Some might be blurred.

This is not the truth that matters here.

You just need to know this. This child is amazing.

The truth is that there are boys named Harry. You might know one.

The truth is many people miss what is amazing about Harry because they are so worried about the box he doesn’t fit in.

The truth is that Harry brings out ugliness in adults that I never anticipated. I know it mostly stems from fear. But it is ugliness just the same.

The truth is that some people are so worried about why Harry won’t fit in their classrooms or programs, that they have no space to think about how they could help create an environment that might fit him.

The truth is that my life is enriched from having been Harry’s teacher.

The truth is that I feel protective about my Harry and other children like Harry out there.

The part that is true is that as educators we need to look first at ourselves before we welcome students into our classrooms. Each child has the potential to teach us much more than we might teach that child. But it starts with who we are and what we are open to.

In the classroom, my Harry is not always doing what others are doing. Sometimes he is. He is always engaged in something. It is just not always with the lesson at hand. Although, sometimes it is. Some days, it often is. Other days, not so much. I’m okay with that. Generally, he is following along with what we are talking about – listening with at least one ear. He does many of the activities that we do. Some he doesn’t. As his teacher, I know where he is at. I see growth. I can measure progress.

My Harry loves to read. He makes paper airplanes. He would like to launch rockets. He fashions them out of paper and masking tape and various other things. When lessons happen at the carpet, he is at his desk. Reading. List making. Searching through magazines. He listens with one ear and ignores with the other. When he has an important point to make, he raises his hand and shares. Sometimes his insights and observations stop the room. He is clever. Sometimes he is cheeky. His memory is amazing.

One might look at Harry and think he is oppositional. He kind of is in the sense that he always likes to be right and that he is quick to argue with anything. Sometimes just because. Some might think he is defiant. Rude. I find his argumentative nature amusing. It is a protective ruse. I pretend to take it seriously but I see the vulnerability underneath. There are reasons he is so guarded.

Harry has lovely manners. He is often polite. Sweet. Charming. If he doesn’t know you, he won’t speak to you. So you won’t know this. You need to earn his trust by not intruding in his space. Once he trusts you, he chatters away, telling you all kinds of things. He shares interesting things he reads. Games he has devised. Wonders about the world. Sometimes he is so open and vulnerable that it breaks my heart.

There are reasons why Harry spends time somewhat differently and needs extra support with interactions and playground play. The reasons were not his choices and they are out of his control. It doesn’t matter exactly why. The truth is that there are some reasons. Reasons that make Harry need some extra support and to be included in our classroom community with more flexibility. Reasons that you don’t know when looking at him. An invisible “disability” that makes it even more important as adults, to protect him from judgement. Even more important to stop thinking about ways to change him and to start thinking about ways to have school work for him.

We talk about being inclusive. We talk about accepting diversity. We talk about being kind. We expect it between children. We expect it between adults. But what happens when the adults don’t offer it to certain children? What happens when Harry is called all kinds of things? What happens when people look at my Harry and other children like Harry and start from a place of discrimination and then use the “different” behaviour they see to not move past that place of judgement?

The part that is true is that it is not okay to have school be an inhospitable place for Harry. It is not acceptable to have adults speak cruelly and insensitively about him. It is not excusable to not speak up when this sort of thing happens.

When I look at Harry learning and laughing and taking more risks every day, I know that my job is not to bask in the happiness of his growth and success. My job is to pave the way for more of the same in his future.

The part that is true is this: Every child matters. Children like Harry need you to know this most of all.

Dear Guest Teacher

Posted on October 6, 2013 by carriegelson

So here are a few confessions and some truths:

I have a lot of anxiety about being away
Many of my students share this anxiety
Often, I choose not to be away even when I should be because it just seems easier all around. I have a few oh my, my, my stories from previous years that contribute to this feeling.
While my students are delightful, happy and excited about learning, many of them could also be described as impulsive and as finding change challenging.
The reality is that when a lot of the magic of a classroom is based on relationships, and someone new comes in in a leadership role, things can go off course. Normal “substitute” stress that has nothing to do with the capabilities of anyone. It’s just the way it is.

But, this year I have decided that I need to be human. And sometimes I am sick. And sometimes I have to go to the dentist. And sometimes I have an exciting learning or teaching opportunity elsewhere. I need to be away sometimes. My students need to be able to manage.

So I decided to involve my students in the process more. When I was away at the end of September, we planned for a Guest Teacher collectively. Did I think this would ensure that all would go perfectly smoothly? No. I have young students. Impulsivity, anxiety and change is still impulsivity, anxiety and change no matter how prepared one might be. But, did I think our collective ownership of the day would lead to the day having more potential for calm, happiness and learning? Yes!

And so over the course of about a week, we spent a little of every day planning for our guest. Everyone, including adults who might be in the room wrote an introduction sticky note. (** We are the self named Harmony Class because when we talked about what it meant to have three grades in one room, one brilliant child observed, “It’s like a harmony.” And the name has stuck! :-))

Each child took a moment to share something special about themselves and that helped us to remind each other that not only are all of us special and unique but that the teacher would be too. We had a chance to meet someone new.

I put up a blank day plan that had times and activities using large chart papers. Everyday we spent a little bit of time filling in details together. For example, what should we do in math that would be successful? The students chose to play Gridlock, a game they had played before to practice coordinate systems. Everyone voted that this would be an activity where we could be engaged and independent.

Eventually, our day plan looked like this. While I filled in the chart, student input was included for each activity. They reminded me of routines, important details and special instructions.

For some procedural details, students added their own sticky notes to elaborate on our directions. I love the lunchtime directions, particularly this one:

“Stay for a bit but not a lot to make sure we are calm.”

So . . . the verdict?

Well, some things went beautifully . . . I received this tweet from one of the Support Workers who spends time in my room:

@CarrieGelson 15 minutes of reading all silent 🙂 pic.twitter.com/297I9OuuOM

— Erich MP (@ErichMP) September 25, 2013

The note from my Guest Teacher started like this:

“Thanks for the day plan. You have a very sweet group of kids. Everything went as planned.”

It ended like this:

“I enjoyed my day with them.”

In the middle it referred to an “incident” – I’m okay with that. Truly, even when I am there, we often have an “incident” 🙂 Or two . . . Perfection was not our goal. The beginning of owning the day together was. As was respect, building community and learning how to welcome guests into that community.

The next day in Writing Workshop we had two prompts: Think about your day with the Guest Teacher, write about something you felt proud about and share a “work on for me” thing. Many students shared that they were proud of their hard work, that they were kind and polite to the teacher and that they did many activities as planned. A general “work on for me” theme was about improving listening, and being more quiet at carpet time. One little guy said he needed to work on being more patient. The noise at times had frustrated him. Students were honest and reflective.

So would I do this again if I am know in advance I am going to be away? Absolutely.

My reflections would be this:

I felt proud of my students for working together to plan a day for a Guest Teacher to share the room with them. A “work on thing” for me would be truly relaxing and knowing that we did our very best to prepare for a smooth day. I mostly relaxed whereas in the past, I never did. Again, the goal was not a perfect day but rather working towards developing more responsibility and independence. That road is a long one and we need to travel it one step at a time. This collective planning allowed us to sprint ahead here and there!

In 2013/2014 I will be . . .

Posted on September 22, 2013 by carriegelson

On the last day of school in June all of us in our classroom brainstormed a huge list of words on the board. What did we want to be in 2013/2014? Beyond goals, how did we want to visualize ourselves? How did we want to be described? What descriptors would be a fit for each of us? We each chose five words. We wrote them down and signed the paper. We also asked a witness to sign.

Most of us were returning to spend the year together again for 2013/2014 as our Grade 2/3 class was becoming a Grade 3/4. Over the summer, someone switched schools and some new students moved into the neighbourhood. By the end of week one in September, we had become a Grade 2/3/4 class with 8 new students. We invited our new students to also take part in this exercise sharing our words and coming up with a few more.

With photographs of us, these words are going to be posted on the walls of our cloakroom. We will see them when we arrive each morning and as we grab our coats and bags at the end of the day. Our words will surround us as we learn and grow. Will these words feel right at the end of the year? Will they be motivational? Will they inspire us? Confuse us? Make us reflect and think? We don’t know yet. We do know that we felt pride and confident choosing our words and happy to share and celebrate them.

If you visit us, please look out for our photos and words in our cloakroom. If you follow our learning journey from afar, here are some lovely examples.

*****

Fun

Calm

Focused

A Writer

A Leader

*****

A Teacher

Brave

A Reader

A Learner

A Listener

*****

Kind

Passionate

Peaceful

Giving

A Thinker

*****

A Reader

Creative

Brave

A Leader

Myself

*****

Independent

Brave

Compassionate

Helpful

A Reader

*****

Creative

Brave

Focused

Patient

Organized

*****

Brave

Calm

A Reader

Respectful

Kind

*****

Creative

Patient

Helpful

Calm

Fun

As the teacher of all of these young students, I was amazed at how brave many of these word choices were. There was real vulnerability in the writing down of words that have big importance. Some quiet children chose the word Talkative. Children who struggle with impulse control wrote that they would be Calm. Learners just beginning to read wrote the words A Reader as did voracious readers who devour books. Our classroom community values many things and this also came through in the choices: Mindful, A Leader, Creative, Kind . . .

These words will visit us everyday, I am not going to ask the students to revisit their choices and evaluate later in the year. I don’t want these words to be intimidating. This process is not about living up to a goal. This process is about choice. We all have the ability to choose who we are becoming. The words we have chosen celebrate this power. My responsibility and my joy will be to support these choices all year long.

Happy 2013/2014 everyone! What will you be?

Would you like to share your 5 words in the comment section? We would love to read them!

Here are mine and Miriam’s (Miriam is my brilliant Student Support Worker who shares these wonderful children with me):

*****

Connected

Thoughtful

A Learner

A Reader

Passionate

*****

Creative

Artistic

Imaginative

Patient

Connected

20 Years, 20 Things

Posted on September 15, 2013 by carriegelson

This is my 19th year as a teacher with the Vancouver School Board. If I add up a few months working as a substitute teacher, a temporary contract and two years teaching abroad, I think I can legitimately claim that I have been teaching for 20 years.

After 20 years, what do I know? That there still is and always will be much to learn. I find that exciting and inspiring, not daunting. However, after teaching this long and still loving my job, I can say I have learned a thing or two (20 things in fact – one to honour each year) and in the September of a new school year when pencils are still sharp and excitement is in the air, I made a list. Because that’s what teachers do.

In no particular order because they are all equally important, some wisdom shared:

1. Teach the children in front of you. Not the children you think should be there. Don’t take a curriculum and impose it on a group of learners. Start with who your students are and where they are. Go from there. Take them far!

2. Relationships, relationships, relationships. Without them, good luck. With them, wow!

3. Choose celebration over cynicism. Educators can easily bemoan what is happening in education. Dwell in that place and you will be blind to the wonder and magic that happens everyday with the students in our classrooms. Feel lucky about that and take time to celebrate the daily learning, growth and joy.

4. Laugh a lot. Kids are really funny. Laugh with them and stress dissipates. For everyone.

5. Be one of many teachers in the room. Promote mentorship between your students. Children learn beautifully from each other when we set up learning environments that promote this.

6. Make curiousity as valuable, if not more valuable, than the acquisition of specific knowledge. When we spend time collecting facts, we have a finite collection. When we wonder and build on each other’s questions, there are endless possibilities. We don’t need all the answers. We do need lots of questions.

7. Don’t collect “stuff” to facilitate your teaching (files, units, boxes of ____), collect ideas, collect mentors, collect blogs to follow. The environment will thank you. Your students will thank you. You will thank you.

8. Fill your room with student art. Not only does it create a beautiful place and a source of student pride at every turn, but in the regular making of art, so much happens. Creativity. Risk taking. Problem solving.

9. Take nothing personally

10. Can you answer this question: “What one thing do I want my students to really learn this year?” There is no right answer. But it’s a really great question.

11. Value community. We are one of many people teaching the children in our classrooms. Students come from varied, interesting and diverse backgrounds. Honour their parents. The extended families. The community that surrounds the school. Make connections to the key players – community centre staff, public library staff, recreation program staff, community health nurses, etc. We are all in this together.

12. Say yes a lot. And when you are tempted to say no, ask a question. The room becomes a happier place.

13. Be a reader. A voracious one. And then share your reading life with your students.

14. Learn. Children will teach you countless things daily if you open your eyes and your mind. Acknowledge when it happens. Just the other day, a child demonstrated compassion in a situation when I had reacted with frustration. I thanked him publicly for the lesson and then immediately acted on what he had taught me. I am a learner in my room as well as a teacher.

15. Learn from the wisdom of others. So many people are doing so many amazing things in classrooms all over the world. Tap into that. Begin sharing. And borrow the brilliance.

16. At the end of everyday, make sure you can think of at least one moment that was magic. Savour it and smile.

17. Adore your students. Interact with them so that they always feel this. You won’t need systems to manage behaviour, you will have relationships. When things don’t go well, when mistakes are made, when conflicts arise, the mutual respect and care will carry you through.

18. Ask yourself this question: “What lifetime habits are being learned in this classroom?”

19. Be a storyteller. Our classrooms are a window into how we as a society look after our children. Speak up.

20. There’s a book for that! The power of books is endless. Read to your students daily multiple times. Sharing books together builds community. Shakes up thinking. Touches hearts. Builds knowledge. Connects us.