Sara Renee Logan
  • Educational Services
  • Seven Ravens Coaching
  • Storytelling by Sara
  • blog
  • About

let's begin again

every life tells a story

how we play now is how we learn

11/16/2018

0 Comments

 
How we play is how we learn! Even in the cold, we need outdoor play.real play, for real learning
Here we are, playing in the wintry air that blew in last week. It's not really winter yet, but I can feel it on the edges of the day. The early sunset, the lazy, slow light of morning, the gusts of air that smell of the arctic -- all of these have come this week. So we layer on our thick coats and snowpants, mittens and hats, boots and gaiters, and we go out. How can we stay in, when the sun is shining, or a soft rain is falling, or snowflakes are swirling?

Play is learning, and play outdoors is deep learning, a learning that cannot occur within walls. There is a feeling of strength and courage that such play engenders, when we bravely step out of the warmth and into the cold.

The little ones made lanterns this week, and we sang songs and heard stories of sharing our light with the world. This week, go out. Feel that glow in your heart and listen to the call to share it. The world looks dead, or is full of sadness or fear -- shine there. Notice the life under the surface. Meet the fear with love, the sadness with gentleness, the death with life. 

And run. Jump. Climb. Argue and make up, laughing the whole time. Tumble and swing, or sit quietly in some magic place (psst -- they are all magic) and dream...

​Have a beautiful weekend.

0 Comments

posting raw

4/24/2017

1 Comment

 
sometimes, it's hard to stay quiet, and sometimes going public hurts. I have had two interviews and sample teaching lessons in the last two months, and I have been hired for neither position. For the second, I was applying to take a classroom at the school where I teach now. When I met with the assistant principal today to talk about my application, and she told me why I hadn't been hired, I was immediately full of tears. Because, on the one hand, she may not have been right about one or two things, but on the other hand, the observations she shared from the interview committee were so dead on.

People, it's all about being authentic, and about living out in the classroom what I espouse in the faculty meeting. And in the moment, under the eye of other teachers, feeling like I am in a classroom with students that aren't mine, I fail. Over and over again, I fail. I have been making the wrong people my role models, again, because (and I wish I could get this through my head) they are not me! I have to stop using other people's tools. They don't work for me. The minute I put up a box for children to earn "points," the minute I take down names, the minute I threaten to call someone's mom, I HAVE LOST. I've lost it. I lose my cool, my resolve, my nerve, and all my fine talk about being a relational teacher and seeking to connect first? Like unto dust in the wind, dude.

I'm trying to see it as a gift: the gift of being the co-teacher again. Of not being in charge of planning. Of not having to be on the front lines of parent communications. Of getting to just be me. 

Have I been me in the classroom? No. I've been me in my small groups, mostly. I've been choosing books I know the children will love, having them practice with movement and art and games. Now to find the balance between teaching lessons I didn't write, and chucking it all out the window to dance and paint all day. 

I have four more days with this class as their leader. Four more days to turn it around, to give them my best. To actually dare to try something, instead of grinding -- GRINDING -- through the day, feeling nothing but regret and exhaustion at the end. Four more days to try to figure out why it is that the two African-American girls in the class are the two I am having the hardest time reaching; I have so much to unpack, so much to examine.

And it's hard. And it hurts. Every day hurts. I'm trying to trust that I am learning, and that I am in the right place, and that they want me to continue in this role, because they see potential. The school sees that I have something they need, and I need to find a way to let that shine out more.

Nothing feels easy with this job. I need to roll it all back in, and really figure it out, because if I don't it will eat me alive.

Sometimes, I really hate learning. Learning is HARD. Growth is HARD. And what happens again and again, is that I see that the path forward, is really a path back. It's a path that reminds me to be what I am, teach how I teach, and trust the children. 

I need that tattooed on my forehead. Or on a BIG poster paper in my classroom. (doing that tomorrow. yep.)

1 Comment

the path through the forest, the way down the well

12/30/2016

0 Comments

 
Picture
Picture
there's one week before the story/reading journey, diving into the well and coming out of the forest, begins. we will be exploring two wintery tales, full of magic and wonder.

We have room for a few more companions on our way. Spend as much or as little time on it as you wish. All that's required, is that you listen to the stories, and listen to your life. Go deep, or just trail your fingertips in the waters of the magic well. It's up to you.

I'm offering this course in the winter, at the turning of the year, because it's a time of reflection and looking forward. Two-faced Janus stands in the doorway of the new year, and asks us to see into our own pasts, and to make our plans and dreams for the future. What better way, than through the voices of the long past, telling stories of once upon a time, a time so long ago that perhaps it never was? What better way, than to dream through stories that read like dreams themselves, where anything is possible?

No experience is needed, except the experience of being human and living on earth. No materials are required, except what you wish to use to explore your new dreams and new understandings -- pencils, paper, computer, crayons, playdough, clay, paints, fiber, felt, leaves, stones, your body, your voice . . .

Imagine pausing in the midst of your day, and noticing that you can see whatever situation arises, as the call to adventure. Imagine seeing your loved ones on their own paths through the woods, and having your heart fill with wonder at their courage.

Come with us.

sorry! this offering is finished.
Picture
0 Comments

My Favorite Fairy Tales for Five to Sevens

2/13/2016

 
fairy tales for kids
The Twelve Dancing Princesses is a favorite tale of mine. Find out my top five Fairy Tales for 5 to 7 year olds!
Fairy tales, not necessarily in their scholarly definition, but allowing for a few other folktales and the occasional legend or myth, are the life's blood of childhood. Fairy tales give us a map for the journey of life, and if parents can see through the time-bound elements of societal values and lessons, they can help children to navigate the treacherous waters of learning to live as a human being with wisdom and courage.

That's a bit of a weighty introduction.  Still with me? Of course you are. Here, then, are five of my favorite fairy tales to share with children who are stepping through the doorway from early childhood dreaminess into the open-eyed world of learning to know things for oneself. These stories are perfect for older five-year-olds right up to middle school, but six and seven might be the ultimate age for enjoyment.
  1. Vasilisa the Beautiful. I love Vasilisa so much that I've made her image the header for this website. In this variant of a Cinderella tale, Vasilisa is given a magical doll by her mother, who then dies, leaving her with a blessing and instructions to feed the doll and ask it for whatever help she needs. The doll, and Vasilisa's own courage, resourcefulness, kindness, and industry help the girl to overcome evil stepsisters, outsmart force-of-nature Baba Yaga, and even find a worthy mate. While she is, indeed, beautiful, it is her inner nature that leads her to happiness.
  2. Snow White and Rose Red These sisters are inseparable, even as we cannot put aside the various sides of our own nature. A bear (who has a secret!), a rude dwarf, a kind mother, and two rose trees all play a role in this story that has a lovely share of humor as well as magic within it. 
  3. Great Joy, the Ox This is not a fairy tale. It's a Buddhist story, from the tradition of Jataka tales, which tell stories of the many incarnations of the Buddha. It's a wonderful story for adults and children alike, and especially nice for sixes and sevens. What happens when you let your fear cause you to treat others unkindly, and how can we help others to regain their own kindness while keeping our self-respect? This incredible ox knows the answer.
  4. The Lindorm Warning! This story goes on and on and on and on and on... and it's awesome. Perfect for long car rides, but not great for when there's 5 minutes until bedtime. You think the story of the Lindorm, a terrible wyvern or dragon, is over when he's released from his enchantment, but the adventure is just beginning!
  5. Three Golden Hairs There are a number of versions of this story of a child who is destined for greatness, the king who wishes he'd stopped the child, and an old woman who knows how to find the answers to impossible questions. This Czech version is beautifully retold. 

So, there you have it. Five of my favorites. The websites these links take you to are worth exploring -- so many great stories to share with the kids in your life! Read aloud, or learn to tell them yourself in my upcoming Be a Storyteller ecourse! (details coming soon!)

And remember, when you come to something that makes you unsure about telling a particular story, whether it's a turn of phrase that rings false in your ear, or a character who meets an end that seems too harsh, take your time. If it's not the right story for you or for your listener, then just let it go, and find the story that's your Goldilocks moment -- Just Right!

What's this Advent stuff, anyway?

12/4/2014

0 Comments

 
Picturethe spiral of light at Meadow Steiner School in Somerset, UK
Maybe you don't know the word, or you have hazy memories of wreaths or logs stuck with candles.  

Traditionally, Advent is a liturgical season comprised of the 4 Sundays immediately preceding Christmas, including Christmas Eve, should it fall on a Sunday. For me, Advent is the deepest part of the year, the time when I'm ready to get quieter, to turn inward and notice how much work it can take to sparkle and glow when everything in nature is urging me to hibernate.  For these weeks leading up to the shortest days in the Northern hemisphere, I consciously create daily rituals of flame and quiet.  

All around me, things are bustling.  There are presents to buy, decorations to put up, trees to select.  There are parties and concerts and events.  My schedule is full.  Calendars must be consulted for every possible conflict before any new commitments can be added.  I'm breathless, worried if I can do enough, buy enough, be enough.  

Into this hurried time falls a drop of peace.  

In Waldorf schools, there's a tradition of a special festival of quiet and light during this season.  The Light Garden or Advent Garden or Winter Spiral is at once a meditation and an activity.  A candle is lit at the center of a spiral of evergreen boughs.  One by one, the children follow the spiral path to the center, each carrying a candle in an apple. After lighting their candle, each child finds a spot along the path on which to set their apple, so that it will illumine the pathway for others. Once all the children have had a chance to light their candles, we pause for a moment to enjoy the loveliness of the lit spiral, and then the teachers lead them back to their classrooms or they leave with their parents.  


Each of us must find a way to the light -- the light of thought, of connection, of kindness and of justice.  Each of us has the opportunity to light the way for those who come after us.  This is the lesson of the Light Garden.  It's one I need to learn, over and over again, every winter.

As you make your own way into the heart of winter, however this season lives in you, my wish is that you may find a light lit on your path to help you along, and that you may in turn share that with others.  I'll have another story for you this weekend, and I hope it might be a little mirror, reflecting a little sunlight into the cold.




0 Comments

Advice to waldorf teachers, or at least to myself in 2010

10/30/2014

3 Comments

 


As you may know, I left full time teaching around 2 years ago.  It was painful and hard, and in retrospect, the right thing at the time, but my God, it was awful.  My story now, is that I left being a class teacher, because I needed to spend more time with my family (true!) and wanted time to pursue storytelling (also true!) and to find my own direction again.  However, it is also that I was really, really struggling as a teacher.  Being in a lot of other classrooms over the past months as a substitute, I have learned so much about what I was missing.

I spent my first eleven years as a teacher working in one small, developing school.  I knew the families I was working with, and they knew me, and had watched me grow from a fresh-out-of-college girl to my full stature as a teacher and leader in the school.  My classroom style was tuned to working with small groups of students, 12 at the most, who came to me with a really strong early childhood foundation.  They could be left alone in the classroom for a few minutes while I stepped into the office to take a few deep breaths and check my mailbox. I had the freedom to throw out lesson plans and walk to the beach with my class when the weather was fine, and to construct my day-to-day curriculum as each year unfolded.  I am proud of my work at that school, and so very proud to have taught the amazing young people who came out of it -- if you know them, you know how fantastic they are. It was hard work, with many, many long meetings. The school brought out the best and worst in all of us, and it was like a big, noisy, argumentative family in many ways. 

I stepped into an established school, where I soon learned the school I came from was viewed by some as "not a real Waldorf school", and I tried to make it work.  Waldorf teacher training is focused mainly on understanding the development of human consciousness throughout childhood and adulthood; my training as a teacher was heavy on the "why" and intentionally sketchy on the "how."  I carried with me an assumption that any classroom issues stemmed from either a lack of proper inner attitude on my part, or on some constitutional characteristic of the child in question. The cultural differences led to a huge number of mistakes on my part, and the larger class and wider range of skills and temperament demanded a very different approach than I knew how to take. 

I lacked some key skills in classroom management, planning, and workplace etiquette.  On top of this, I had a child who was still nursing, and I slept around 5-6 hours a night.  This was a recipe for disaster.  My colleagues and I were not working from the same playbook; I was exhausted and ill; there was a disastrous "mentoring" visit from a master teacher.  In short, we all could have seen the writing on the wall from the beginning. I needed another 5 hours in my day -- three to sleep, two to plan. 

So, here is what I wish I had understood four years ago:
  1. You need a plan for classroom management that stems from a goal that feels authentic and enlivening.  I tried a lot of classroom management strategies.  The problem with that?  They were strategies without a philosophy I could get behind.  It was like trying to base my presence in the classroom on the second story of a house without a ground floor.  Responsive Classroom would have been a really good choice, and I'd recommend working on a really clear picture of what a functioning classroom looks like, so you and your colleagues are on the same page. Very, very important.
  2. It really, really helps to look at how the rest of the educational world works, and how other folks are teaching reading, math, writing, etc.  Waldorf has a rich, varied, and soul-deep curriculum.  So much is left up to the individual teacher, that it can be really, really overwhelming.  It helps to have some real understanding of the pace and scope of the schools around you, so you can speak with confidence with parents, and so that you can pick and choose best practices that address the needs of the children in front of you. That's the heart of Waldorf: the teacher needs to be free to address those needs and to teach well, and needs knowledge and resources to do so.
  3. You need a lot of support.  A LOT.  I remember a fellow student at training who talked about a master teacher who started a talk about lesson preparation by saying, "So, friends, when you finish your dinner, and go into the study and close the door..." Get the support you need so that you feel like such a thing might be possible, even if it's before breakfast, or on Saturday, or whenever it is.  
  4. Self.  Care.  I'm not just talking about your all-important Inner Work.  You'll hear all about that in teacher training.  What I didn't learn, was how to balance my life.  I didn't make good use of my prep periods, because that was the only time, most days, that I had any time to read, or write, or walk, or talk to adults other than my spouse.  So, then that meant trying to plan lessons at 9 or 10 at night after suffering through another marathon bedtime.  Did not work.  Please plan accordingly.
  5. People are watching and judging all the time.  Everything you do and say, and they don't all want you to succeed, even if they say they do.  Assume you are being watched every single moment you are in the classroom, or the halls, or the office, or the teacher's lounge.  It sounds awful, but this was so much my downfall.  Waldorf teachers need a thick skin, and need to be good at seeming calm, cheerful, and serene.  I didn't do so well on this one, either.

I want to elaborate more on some of these, but I'm tired, and trying to get more than 5-6 hours of sleep a night.  My son finally started sleeping through the night 2 years ago, so I'm off to enjoy sleep interrupted only by cats, the dog, and my own ridiculous dreams...
3 Comments
    Picture
    hi. that's me.

    Author

     Hi. That's me. I write, sometimes, about  parenting, storytelling, and about living a life with stories.

    Buy Me a Coffee!!!


    RSS Feed

    Categories

    All
    Biography
    Coaching
    Fairytales
    Festivals
    Life
    Links!
    Musings
    Parenting
    Story/reading
    Storytelling
    Teaching
    Waldorf
    Writing

    Archives

    April 2023
    February 2023
    January 2023
    December 2022
    January 2022
    June 2021
    January 2021
    July 2020
    June 2020
    April 2020
    February 2020
    December 2019
    November 2019
    October 2019
    July 2019
    June 2019
    May 2019
    April 2019
    March 2019
    February 2019
    January 2019
    December 2018
    November 2018
    October 2018
    September 2018
    June 2018
    May 2018
    March 2018
    January 2018
    December 2017
    November 2017
    September 2017
    August 2017
    July 2017
    June 2017
    May 2017
    April 2017
    January 2017
    December 2016
    November 2016
    October 2016
    August 2016
    July 2016
    June 2016
    May 2016
    April 2016
    March 2016
    February 2016
    January 2016
    December 2015
    November 2015
    October 2015
    September 2015
    August 2015
    July 2015
    June 2015
    May 2015
    April 2015
    March 2015
    February 2015
    January 2015
    December 2014
    November 2014
    October 2014
    May 2014
    March 2014
    February 2014
    January 2014
    December 2013
    November 2013
    October 2013
    September 2013
    August 2013
    July 2013
    June 2013
    May 2013
    April 2013
    March 2013
    February 2013
    January 2013

    RSS Feed

Powered by Create your own unique website with customizable templates.
Photos from elvissa, gagilas, jkavo, Ross Elliott, libertygrace0, The Daring Librarian, Bob the courier
  • Educational Services
  • Seven Ravens Coaching
  • Storytelling by Sara
  • blog
  • About