As a kid, I was jealous of Claudia. I mean what girl wouldn't want to stowaway in an art museum? And not just any art museum, we're talking the Met!
“Claudia knew that she could never pull off the old-fashioned kind of running away. That is, running away in the heat of anger with a knapsack on her pack. She didn't like discomfort; even picnics were untidy and inconvenient: all those insects and the sun melting the icing on the cupcakes. Therefore, she decided that her leaving home would not be just running from somewhere but would be running to somewhere.”
This is the precise passage that captured my imagination as a young reader, and if I am being honest, it still intrigues me. In fact, I spend my days encouraging my students to grab hold of this concept of “running to somewhere.”
When we mentor with books, great characters, like Claudia, give young readers a reason to press into their imagination.
“Some days you must learn a great deal. But you should also have days when you allow what is already in you to swell up and touch everything. If you never let that happen, then you just accumulate facts, and they begin to rattle around inside of you.” — E.L. Konigsburg
This past year, I explored The Mixed-up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler again with my 5th grade reading circle—five boys. It was fun to watch them connect with different aspects of the story. While they unanimously disliked Claudia (she's a girl after all), they identified with Jamie. My youngest son Søren had this to say, “I liked the mysterious statue. Remember when Claudia and Jaime snuck a peak of the angel? I liked that part mom.”
I could not help but smile when my budding artist decided to sculpt an angel in the style of Michelangelo for his culminating project. Søren's imagination was not sparked in the same way that mine was as a child and this is a good thing, is precisely what I love about great stories.
So Søren dove into what inspired him, found a Michelangelo(ish) image on his own to fashion his sculpture after. I did not have the heart to tell him that it is not a Michaelangelo in the midst of his creative process. I am glad that he discovered this on his own when he decided to do some research on the angel like Claudia and Jamie who went before him.
Now I know there is bias here, but in the end, I believe Soren's original work of art made of aluminum foil and paper towels surpasses the work being studied!
Søren's buddies thought his angel a masterful work of art. They even checked the base of his statue, just to make sure it was not a Michelangelo!
Summer is a great time to acquire some habits that have been deemed extracurricular, habits that I believe are not supplementary at all, but a vital part of learning.
Making recipes with your children provides them the opportunity to learn basic cooking skills that will serve them the rest of their life and is a perfect time to show them some science.
Home Economics is my passion, so here goes…
To begin, choose a recipe that is simple and delicious. Next, decide what specific science topic the recipe will allow you will explore.
Soooo, let’s make some Sparkling Sugar Kisses! These yummy meringue cookies are easy and fat free. This recipe below is from the King Arthur Flour Cookie Companion.
Making meringues is the perfect gateway for a little lesson about eggs.
Eggs are composed of the shell, which holds the egg inside. Shells are produced in a range of amazing colors because they come from different breeds. While it is terrific fun to explore shell color, any color will do when it comes to making meringue.
Just inside the shell is the membrane.
When you crack open the egg you will see the yellow yolk sitting inside the albumen.
Out of the shell, fresh eggs stand up taller and firmer on the plate. The white should be thick and stand up around the yolk. The yolk should be firm and high. A less fresh egg will be runny and flat.
The chalaza, it’s the white cord that holds the egg in place inside the shell. There is an air cell between the shell and the membrane that grows larger with age.
Eggs are evaluated by passing them over bright lights where the interior quality can be seen. Grade AA eggs have a firm white and a thick round yolk and perfect shells. Grade A has “reasonably” firm whites and perfect shells. Grade B has thinner whites and some stains on the shells.
Now to the subject of sizing eggs. The size does not refer to the dimensions of an egg or how big it looks. Size tells you the minimum required net weight per dozen eggs. So Jumbo eggs have 30 oz. per dozen, ranging all the way down to Peewee eggs which have 15 oz. per dozen. Most standard recipes call for AA large.
The best thing about eggs is that they are high in protein, vitamins, and minerals.
Now on to the making….
To make a proper meringue you have to do a few things to ensure success.
Always begin with room temperature eggs because when you whip them more air can be incorporated so the volume will be bigger. To warm them fast just place the eggs in a bowl of warm water for a few minutes.
Make sure the mixing bowl and whisk you will use to whip the whites are clean. Wash them in warm soapy water to degrease. Fat will coat the ends of the egg white’s protein, which greatly diminishes the whites ability to hold air.
Now you are ready to separate the whites from the yolks. Strain them through clean fingers! Most recipes for meringue call for a little salt and cream of tarter to help the molecules of whites hold onto water and air molecules—chemistry in action!
To beat the whites, use an electric mixer or whisk them by hand. Either way the whites go through several stages.
The first stage is a puddle of clear liquid. As you begin to beat, a puddle with foamy air bubbles will emerge. Eventually the whisk begins to leave tracks in the bowl. To test which stage your whites are in simply lift up the beater out of the foam. If a point forms and falls over immediately, you’re looking at soft peak. From here 15 to 20 more strokes will bring you to medium peak, and another 15 to 20 strokes to stiff peaks. Be careful, don’t over beat the meringue because liquid will begin to separate out from the foam and you’ll end up with grainy, lumpy looking whites.
Meringue calls for super fine sugar because it makes a less grainy meringue. To make your own super fine sugar simply give it a good spin in the food processor and the crystals will get super finer!
Make sure not to add the sugar too soon in the beating process. Start adding gradually somewhere between soft and medium peaks.
By the way, this recipe calls for vanilla, but I flavored mine with peppermint extract. You can even crush peppermints to add to the batter. Be creative!
– Sara
Sparkling Sugar Kisses
Yield 2 dozen // Baking temp 250F
• 2 large egg whites
• 1/8 teaspoon salt
• ¼ teaspoon cream of tarter
• ½ cup (31/2oz) sugar, superfine preferred
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract, or the extract of your choice
• Coarse sugar
Preheat the oven to 250F. Line 2 baking sheets with parchment.
In a large, very clean, nonplastic bowl. Beat the egg whites until they’re foamy, then add the salt and cream of tarter. Add the sugar gradually, continuing to beat until the meringue is thick and glossy, and forms stiff peaks. Beat in the vanilla at the end.
Drop meringue by the tablespoon onto the prepared baking sheet. Sprinkle each with coarse (or colored) sugar. Bake for 1 hour, then turn off the oven and let the kisses cool in the unopened oven (don’t peek!) for 11/2 to 2 hours, or until they’re dry and crisp all the way through. Remove them from the oven and store in an airtight container.
It you use a tablespoon cookie scoop, don’t heap it; level it off; to obtain the correct size and number of cookies. For fancy meringues, pipe them onto a sheet using a pastry bag and the tip of your choice.
Variations: Stir in ½ to ¾ cup mini-morsel chocolate chips after the vanilla.
“There are several words that sang above the rest in my high school science classes.
From botany, photosynthesis is the one.
From marine biology, Echinodermata and Coelenterata.
From chemistry, stoichiometry.
And, from cellular biology, mitochondria captured my imagination.”
So begins the lesson.
"Mitochondria located in the cytoplasm are little energy factories within the cell. These amazing organelles enable respiration, which allows the cell to move, to divide, and to thrust their unique purpose. Mitochondria can have different shapes depending on the cell type. Because they contain their own DNA, ribosomes and can produce their own protein, mitochondria are only partially dependant upon the host cell."
What I set out to explore with my students is the fact that mitochondria possess a double membrane, an outer, which is smooth, and an inner, which possesses many folds called cristae which exponentially increase membrane surface area.
“All living cells have mitochondria. But it is amazing to consider that typical animal cells have up to 2000 mitochondria… in each cell!”
I wanted to take their imagination on a journey between these folds.
“Folds give mitochondria their unique potential; enable the organelle to be highly productive. Cristae take batches of sugar and oxygen and produce ATP (adenosine triphosphate)—cell food.”
At the beginning of the year, science began by exploring the idea that science and art are uniquely connected.
Leonardo himself reminds us, “All our knowledge has its origins in our perceptions.”
My hope was to connect the exploration of mitochondria to the unit we had just completed on the human nervous system. We explored the potential of individuality as we explored the brain—human potential, genius. And here another potential to bridge the gap between learning information and sparking individuality presented itself, this time on a cellular level.
“So today, to continue our exploration of mitochondria, we are going to watch a film about origami.”
Yes, origami.
The students gathered round the TV. I popped in the DVD and set out to accomplish some administrative goals.
Not far into the film I overheard the little group letting out amazement. I was not surprised. But soon I witnessed something that caught me off guard. One-by-one individual students from the group ranging from the 5th through the 11th grader, got up to grab a stack of paper.
They were folding.
The film did not provide a directive to viewers. This was not a "fold-along" film. These students were engaging in the task spontaneously.
Being inspired is magnificent.
During the next biology workshop I provided instructions and large pre-cut squares of paper for the students to fold a hyperbolic parabola. This, to reinforce the film’s message that even paper has hidden potential.
“Folding paper is work. But your work is not in vain. Your work utilizes a fraction of potential. And the paper will never be the same.”
Dare I say, neither will they?
I think mitochondria is one of those words that will stick.
It's that time of year again: Standardized Test Season.
I've had students want to crumple, rip, burn, chew, even fold and fly their standardized testing bubble answer sheets. But this year Taylor takes the prize, "I am going to turn this into a piece of music."
And so he did. Yep, it's true. So far he's translated his vocabulary bubbles to a little Schoenberg-esque ditty.
Enacting poetry is a great way to get excited about words.
Rainy days were bittersweet when I was in elementary school. While the playground was sorely missed, watching the rain run like a waterfall down the side of our classroom that was mostly made of glass was poetic. And of course, there were the rainy day games to brighten the atmosphere. I remember one teacher in particular who introduced us to the best rainy day game of all: Dictionary. She would choose a word that none of us had ever heard and then have us write our made-up definition for the word on a slip of paper. We dropped the definitions into a basket, then she randomly read them out loud and we voted for our favorite. When she read the real definition from the dictionary, she planted, seed by seed, an appreciation for words that has not left me these many years later.
Once, while teaching poetry on a rainy day, I remembered that teacher and the classroom with the glass wall, and with a dictionary in hand, began my own lesson. We were reading a poem by William Wordsworth, I began by having my students think of the poet’s last name as a really great compound word. I went on to share my rainy day memory and began exploring vocabulary from “Composed Upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802,” Wordsworth’s famous sonnet.
We were about to embark on a game of Dictionary with a twist. I would attempt to take my students on a field trip across that bridge, enable them to compose their very own poem. When I gave them the first word to tackle, their definitions were non-specific, close to the real thing, but not precise. I opened the dictionary, flipped then ran my finger down a page, “Infuse, to fill; pervade.” I read the second definition, “To release flavor or healing properties while being soaked,” and then I infused tea in a glass mug of steaming water. The students liked this so much that we experimented. We infused darkness with light by closing blinds to slits and watching light stream in, by lighting candles in dark corners.
After our little game of Dictionary we took a few steps across the bridge, time for the real lesson to begin. I had them close their eyes and listen to the word infuse, encouraged them to let sounds seep into their ears, “The sounds of words matter, so does the shape.”
Now the students in my workshop were curious, “Shape?”
“Yes, shape.” Writers of all ages often forget the vital connection between words and image.
I led them into another room, to a table laden with jars of glitter, paint and brushes, drawing pencils, chalk pastels, scissors, glue sticks, stacks of newspaper and magazines, and a basket of Dymo label makers. It was time for my students to “find” poetry and in the process discover the power of words.
I showed the students how to begin with a random block, “Rip out a chunk of words from a page of newspaper or magazine.” I instructed them to read the block of words out of the context of the article, “Now the poet must think about the specific meaning of the words being read to discover a new, personalized, context to place the words into.” I showed them how to paint out certain words to make their new context emerge and to move from there to an original poem. Then I set them free to explore the supplies on the table. They didn’t need much instruction beyond, “Create a poetic collage.”
I am devoted to connecting writers to words by teaching them to crave what all good writers crave: Specificity.
Taking time to consider words is an undervalued skill, is often considered a tedious task. Taking the “boring” out of something ultimately involves changing the attitude about the task. Exploring words is an adventure. Learning to use a dictionary, the kind that you hold in your hands, is the skill that over time will allow young writers to infuse the worth of words into the world.
There simply is not enough time. I panic and move faster through another day, tackling the stacks set before me.
This time every year I get the itch to plant a garden, but, “…there are children to care for, grades to issue, dishes to wash and clothes to fold, dinner, emails, phone calls…”
This past weekend Sara taught me to dig for sunshine, to be warmed by dirt.
Just as my dear country mouse (I am admittedly jealous) was about to get into her little car and escape this city, she looked at me with that gleam in her eye and said, “Let’s do it…”
The next thing I knew I was in the garden furiously dumping ancient dirt from garden containers. Topsy turvey.
We moved on to tackle weeds that sprung up around the edges of the fence where we would be moving the containers so that afternoon sun will tempt vines to crawl up twine and drip with snap peas. But the problem was, fun as this moment was, as much as I wanted to be in the garden, especially with my friend, checklists were flashing in my mind.
I was grabbing at weeds hand over fist when I came to a plant that was flowering—yellow blossom—I paused, “Pretty.” I was mesmerized until I remembered it was a weed that would that would turn to thistle and stick to my socks. I yanked it out and noticed that the checklists haunting me disappeared.
If we dig deep enough into the heart of a story, dig to its very core, I believe we will always spark curiosity. And when we press into that curiosity, we often discover a treasure to inform our own life. A good mentor leads us by the hand on an exploration of discovery that will make us a richer person.
As I am passing out the books and discovery guides, I introduce them to the story, “Allegra Leah Shapiro has been selected as a finalist in a prestigious violin competition and this stirs up all sorts of inner conflict.”
Why does summer have to be so hectic?
What does it mean to be half Jewish and half gentile?
Why is soprano, Diedre, crying?
How can I be a twelve-year-old a violinist and have time to be a friend?
Why is my brother so annoying?
How has Mr. Trouble lost his song?
What is this gift from Bubbe Raisa?
And what of this great-grandmother I’ve been named after?
Will I be able to dig deep enough for Mozart?
Can I undo what has been done?
“The Mozart Season,” I tell them, “is a quiet story, one filled with resounding music that just might change your life.” I leave it there, hand them the book and tell them I am looking forward to what will unfold.
Five months later, I gather my group together to congratulate our writing and visual art students who were recognized regionally by Scholastic Alliance for Young Artists & Writers this year, plus two high school students who had work published in an international online literary journal.
As I am handing out the awards, it dawns on me that four of the award winning projects began with the writers and artists responding to The Mozart Season and blossomed into something imaginatively original.
A great book can be a mentor.
Here you can view a short film inspired by the book as well as a beautiful piece of writing by a 6th grade student.
Gurgle gurgle, trickle trickle, swish swish swish, everything is music. The bubbling fountain sings a heart shattering song while the wind hums a chilling melody. Rain jolts in, dancing on its stony stage. He stares into the shame of another day, where bold shapes of towering buildings blot out the rising sun. Glass windows taunt the morning dew. The dense noise of honking horns and blaring radios submerge as the day grows old, life in the city. It’s all a blur–work, school, play, eat, sleep–never ending cycle. Those who can’t keep up are thrown to the side. There are no second chances in the city. Money is what matters, money money money. Without money you can’t survive, no need for creativity in the city. So he has no purpose, The man, his music, and a violin.
Want to inspire your students to dig deeper? Consider exploring The Mozart Season (grades 5-8) using our Blackbird & Company Literature Discovery Guide.
If you really stop to think about it, it's more than miraculous that a humble, hard-shelled little thing called a seed, once buried in dirt, watered, and warmed by the sun, transforms into something beautifully alive, growing, and life-giving.
Evelyn is a high school graduate. I closed the book on her transcript over a year ago. Recently she taught me how to connect the dots:
Ever since my mom introduced me to pysanky egg making many years ago, I have been hooked. When Easter rolls around I have my friends over to create these brilliantly dyed eggs. Every year I get better and better and learn more helpful techniques. This year I was so obsessed with making eggs I would stay up ‘till midnight painstakingly scratching on eggs with a wooden kiska.
Ukrainian egg making teaches patience. It’s a quiet, slow, endeavor but all the hard work and patience pays off. My favorite part of the process is when, after hours of work, I finally get to melt off the black wax with a candle and reveal the masterpiece!
A few years ago we suffered a pysanky egg tragedy: Years worth of eggs had been left on the kitchen table while we were out to dinner one night. We returned to a floor covered in smashed eggshells. Our dog Jack had smelled the eggs and jumped onto a chair to get to the top of the table. He crushed them all.
My mom cried. She’s never gotten over the loss. I, on the other hand, just wanted to punt Jack down the staircase.
Slowly we have begun to build up our pysanky egg collection…
I remember being on a Patricia Polacco roll one spring. After reading Rechenka’s Eggs to our group I heard Sara say, “We can do that.”
The next thing I know we are blowing the insides out of eggs and teaching our primary aged children the art of batik. I find it interesting that the Ukrainian word “pysanky” comes from the verb “pysaty” which means to write. So picture teaching a group of 12 or so under ten-year-olds to write with wax on eggshells! Did I mention that there is fire involved in this activity? Yes, that’s right, fire.
Here’s the deal: children are capable. Was this activity chaotic? You bet. But not once did it cross our minds that this group of children was too young to engage in a sophisticated craft. We rarely purchased construction paper! Looking back those young children proved that focus is not the issue. Children possess an incredible store of focus power, but we deny them opportunity to demonstrate their prowess when we hand them coloring books.
The art of pysanky teaches patience, true. When pure white shells, a tiny surface of potential, are painstakingly decorated individuality emerges. As a teacher who’s a poet, I see a metaphor emerging.
When my youngest son, Søren, and his literature circle buddies began reading Perloo the Bold, by AVI his imagination was captured. Perloo, the protagonist, is a peaceful, fairly introverted scholar much like my son. I think they hit it off from the get go.
So in this story, Perloo has been chosen to succeed Jolaine as leader of the furry underground creatures called Montmers. When Jolaine dies and her evil son seizes control of the burrow, Perloo must step up to the plate.
During the second week of thinking deeply about the story, my quiet, unassuming son slipped under the loft where we keep our overflow art supplies and came into the study arms loaded with a box of assorted Fimo clay. He got to work conquering his idea.
When I asked him about the project he told me he was making a claymation film of Perloo the Bold. Søren spent many hours cleverly crafting characters and posing them in one position, then another using his camera to capture the motion.
Midway in his movie making he set the project aside, went back to the art cabinet, this time for paper and colored pencils and began work on a set of original proverbs complete with ornately illuminated letters.
With this task complete, Søren resumed progress on his little film. When the filming was complete, he enlisted his older brother, Taylor to compose original music for his piece. He was so proud when Taylor was done and his movie was complete. When I made one last suggestion, that Søren make a title slide, he knew just what to do, “I will make the title fade in, Perloo… the Bold. Yes, that’s it.” In a matter of seconds the slide was complete. Most fascinating of all, at least to me, was the strategic placement of the slide that was seemingly intuitive. He did not put the slide up front, but a couple frames into the movie to line up with a significant change in the rhythm of the music. Fantastic!
Søren’s creative response to this book not only demonstrates his deep understanding, but that his critical creative thinking skills are alive and well.
Sometimes it is the quiet, unassuming creatures that save the kingdom. Pondering this possibility, no doubt, inspired my son.
