I saw a banner posted in the hallway of an elementary school this week that read, “Is This Your Best Work? Make Your Grandparents Proud.” (See image, below, with my apologies for the glare of the hallway light.)  I loved the saying instantly, and I think it’s because it resonated on a few levels with me.

With this brief message (and one might assume, related talk in classrooms), this school community is helping children build habits of meaningful self-reflection and consistent good effort, and teaching them to show and share pride in their learning.  It’s the type of school-wide initiative that librarians can easily incorporate into classes, and it’s so simple and clear.  By asking this question and prompting a few descriptors (e.g., “did you follow all directions,” followed by some task-specific queries), teachers can model effective think-aloud strategies.  And if we want to be particular, we might even notice a few Standards for the 21st Century Learner that fit right in. “Is this your best work” is a self-check that sounds a lot like “Assess the quality and effectiveness of the learning product” (3.4.2) and “Recognize how to focus efforts in personal learning” (4.4.3).

There’s also something powerful in the “grandparents” mention, both for the kids and for the educators at the school.  First, for the children, this shifts the common reference to parents’ opinions of school performance in a new direction.  A teacher’s typical admonition about poor behavior or work might fall along the lines of “what would your mother say about that?” or the dreaded, “should we call home?”  And the accolades are usually directed at parents and guardians, too: “Great job! Take this home and show mom and dad.”  But even though many family units today include multiple generations living together in one household, I’m not sure when I was a classroom teacher that I thought to mention grandma and grandpa as persons to please with good work at school, at least not often.  Whether they live with the children or reside elsewhere, grandparents are proud of their grandchildren’s learning, too, and by reminding students that their work matters, perhaps we can encourage another level of energy and investment in trying their best.

As far as teachers and librarians are concerned, seeing “grandparents” on this sign reminded me of my tendency to think “parents” when considering potential school community advocates for the school library.  I use the term “school community” rather loosely though frequently,  and it occurs to me that it is helpful to consider just which people comprise this group, and what their interests and contributions might be.  In a group of grandparents of K-12 students, we probably have a diverse pool of knowledge, connections to local organizations and government, and likely, personal interest in the success of local schools, by way of their grandchildren’s successes and needs.  So why not get the grandparents connected to the school library?  From inviting readers and volunteers, to asking for help with school history archives, to offering extra copies of library newsletters to take home to grandma, there are lots of ways to get grandparents involved and apprised of the library program.  So remind your students to make their grandparents proud, and try out some ideas for making grandparents proud advocates of the library, too.

–Rebecca Morris

Hat tip to Fletcher-Maynard Academy, Cambridge Public School District, Cambridge, MA, where I snapped the banner photo.

photo © 2008 Mike Baird | more info (via: Wylio)

Last year, I began what I hope is a useful tradition in my media for children and young adults class. We take 20-30 minutes of class time and reflect on what we’ve learned and what we now believe in one of these formats:

A “This I Believe” essay
A policy statement
A Children’s or Young Adult Bill of Rights
A philosophical statement for their employment portfolio
Some other format

Last year, the manifestos were so moving. You know, in graduate school — and I think it’s true in K-12 as well — we ask our students to produce and produce and produce. And, even though we tell them to be themselves, there’s a piece of the game called education that asks them to mimic who we are and what we believe.

On top of that, we (the generic “we,” not any specific colleagues of mine) rarely give them time to reflect on what they’ve learned. Our graduate students are slammed at the end of the term. They’re exhausted. So I don’t want to give them one more piece of homework in which they feel they have to mimic me or which will stress them out further. I have decided that it’s a good use of class time to give them this reflective time. (Even though it freaks me out that they don’t talk for half an hour, which is not normal around here.)

This fall, my first as a full-time professor and as an aunt of a K-12 student, has brought many changes to my thinking and to my approach to children’s lit. Sometimes, Auntie Kristin and Professor Kristin come into conflict. What I want for my niece and nephew might not be the same as what ALA wants us to want. The rapidly-expanding digital reading wave, which I’ve found myself enjoying via NetGalley.com more than I ever imagined, is turning libraries once again on their proverbial heads.

I try, in this course, to hold myself accountable for the things I require my students to do. They read/view/experience 50 resources, and so do I. So I always promise to write a manifesto, too.

Here’s my children’s manifesto for 2010:

I believe that children are capable of deep learning and understanding. Rich resources help them meet their capabilities in a way that feels rewarding and pleasurable.

I believe that we show them that we believe in their capabilities, in part, by the resources we share with them and the ways in which we interact with them.

I believe that children deserve access to materials they think are high-quality and those we think are high-quality, regardless of socioeconomic status.

I believe I need to do more than pay lip-service to that statement.

I believe that binary statements like, “Print books will be dead in ten years,” force adults into taking sides over an issue isn’t an either/or issue. I’m rather happy with a stove, a microwave, and a toaster oven. Each serves a different purpose for me, and I don’t feel I need to pitch all but one. The emergence of digital reading doesn’t necessarily mandate that all print will go away, though it certainly will diminish. I don’t believe we have to choose between print and digital reading, and I believe that leaping too fast might pull our metaphorical hamstring.

I believe that we don’t know enough about the benefits and constraints of digital reading to make a firm decision yet, but that I need to become fluent in both media in order to serve patrons effectively. After all, some studies show that college students overwhelmingly prefer print textbooks, even as some universities push forward with 100% digital adoption.

I believe that bedtime reading with a young child is one of the most emotionally connected moments of the day.

I believe in the value of resources that are free of advertising, brands, or licensed characters.

I believe that great libraries and great librarians help kids know themselves.

I believe in the future of librarians and libraries to navigate choppy waters of change.

I believe that we need more books that reflect the multicultural, complex world in which we live.

I believe that Ranganathan’s Laws still matter.

I believe that sometimes we spend too much time making crafts with kids that correspond to characters and settings in a book when we could be supporting their conversations about those books. There’s a reason this magazine changed its name from School Library Media Activities Monthly to School Library Monthly!

Many of you conclude your work week and will leap right into vacation and holiday planning when the bell rings on Friday … or a few days after that. Won’t you take a minute to reflect on your own values and beliefs? It’s rather amazing what pops up when you gift yourself a half-hour of reflection.

The Michigan Association for Media in Education has released new school library evaluation guidelines that can help us evaluate the success of our programs. Specifically skirting “library-only” language, the new document can help us jumpstart conversations with building and district administrators.

Per the Michigan Department of Education Web site:

This tool is to be used to measure the quality of School Library programs within individual school buildings in Michigan. To achieve Qualified and Exemplary Status for their School Library program, completed criteria measurement evaluations are to be submitted to the Library of Michigan, an Office of the Michigan Department of Education. School administrators are to evaluate their building’s School Library program in conjunction with their School Librarian and submissions require the signature of their District Superintendent. Status earned will be valid for two years. This tool is a companion to the Michigan School Library Media Program Guidelines approved by the Library of Michigan Board of Trustees in January 2007.

Thanks, MAME!