My Heart is in the Pines

It's the beginning of August, and school is right around the corner. Students are collecting crayons, pencils and glue, and I can't help but feel the buzz of excitement for another school year. And as we all scurry about to get ready, I couldn't help but enjoy the activity on my street.

Where I live, there's a school, one public school teacher, one religious school teacher, one homeschool teacher and one special education teacher, plus many houses filled with young children. And it was one of these children that caught my eye this week. Carrying a bag filled with rasberries, this particular boy was speeding home, running as fast as he could across the street, with his red superman cape streaming in the wind. I had to stop and revel in this great moment, for I realized the most important part of my personal learning network is not the expert or tool, but the child.

If I am going to teach young children, I must learn to wonder and play and be like them. They are ready to discover and explore, whereas I'm ready to pull my hair out with stress. They are overjoyed by their findings and want to share them with others, whereas I want to vent. They want to run to their future, whereas I mostly want to hide under the covers. And where's the joy of learning with bed bugs?!

The hero with the cape taught me a lot this week. He reminded me to listen and learn from children. What questions do they have? How do they learn best? What are they most interested in? He further made me wonder if any of us have a single student in our network? I know I don't (yet), and that's what I'm going to focus on, starting with my street. This week, in talking with my neighbors, I invited them to collect fire fly data and enter it on my blog. If students get excited about learning stuff and talk to other students, wouldn't that build our network too? Think of all the value they would bring with their inquisitive nature!

And so even though my goal for this course is to climb to the treetops, I realize that my heart is in the pines. I love children, and therefore, need to remember never to climb too far from them. For if I'm at the treetop, how can I see the little trees below? And if the little trees don't grow, how will the forest be sustained?