How I Shared Lessons in Life
By Pamela Schluter

I'm a first grade whole language teacher in Wareham, Massachusetts. I use the daily story during meeting time as a large chunk of my teaching each day. It's the vehicle for a lot of my modeling for good writing. Modeling is the most powerful way of teaching I've seen, and much of my language skills teaching comes from it. We circle similarities, make predictions and note punctuation.

I first began the daily story process using a story that contained the typical, "Today is Wednesday. We have gym. Joey went to the zoo. Jane has a loose tooth." After a few weeks of fidgety students, I realized there had to be more. I remembered how my first grade teacher shared her life with us, so I, too, started to share my life as I wrote the daily story on a large piece of chart paper. I even let the class know what kind of day I was having. This gave me a chance to let them know that teachers can be tired and even a little grouchy, just like anyone else. Authentic writing seemed to be working.

I chose one area of the daily story to focus on each day. It usually didn't come from my planbook or a preconceived idea. This empowered the students and gave them ownership with authentic learning. And it kept me on my toes with current research so I could make split second decisions for the most powerful teaching.

The children's personal journal writings improved immensely as they tried to replicate the kind of sharing I was modeling. They had reasons to write. I found that as I answered their journal writings, I could respond to their individual needs without impinging on our guidance counselor's job. Some students even used their journals to ask if they could see her.

Authentic writing. I found real value in the daily story. I shared my likes, dislikes and special events in my life. I also shared stories about my family. My husband is a foreman for a cranberry grower, and his job provided a great way for the class to learn about this crop and its growing process. One of my sons, Scott, was attending college in Alaska, and we shared his experiences. We even wrote to him and did a theme study on the Iditarod sled dog race. My other son, Marc, was a high school football player. He was particularly interested in poetry, which gave the boys a boost when they found out that football and poetry could go together nicely. Marc also visited our class. By December, our class was a family in many senses. My family, their families, our family.

On December 22, I wrote a story of how happy I was to have my whole family together. On December 23, I packed my room materials for Christmas vacation and wished my children a safe and happy holiday. I left school ready for a great week.

That night became a terrible nightmare. My dear son Marc was casually driving home from a friend's house and slid off the road on black ice into a tree. His life – and part of mine – ended instantly.

Our small town poured out its compassion and love. I received notes from many of my children's parents, and the parent group provided meals for my family for a few weeks. One mother said she felt she had known Marc, too, because her child had been sharing our classroom events at home. The teachers were equally helpful.

Family support. Ironically, in sharing my life, I was able to pick up the pieces and move on. Julie, my great substitute teacher, handled the class just the way I would have. She wrote daily about her feelings, and she allowed the children to discuss and write in their journals about my tragedy. My superintendent had told me to take off as much time as I needed. I was back in one week.

Everyone was amazed at my quick return, but I needed to get back to the teachers and students. They had become a part of my family, and families support one another in good and bad times. This group of 27 six-year-olds was my support. I needed them as much as they needed me.

Some people might think this was too much for 6-year-olds to handle, but it gave us all a better understanding of something many of them had already experienced at different levels. Almost all of them had lost a hamster, dog, guinea pig, or even a family member. They gave me strength. Eventually I was even able to laugh with them – something I thought I'd never do again.

How did I handle Marc's death in the classroom? A close friend had given me a locket when Marc died. I wear it every day. It contains pictures of my two children. At my first meeting when I returned, I opened it and showed the pictures to the children. I told them that one of the boys is Scott, who is alive on Earth, and the other is Marc, who is not here on Earth, but his memory is in my heart. I told them how important it is to keep good memories close to their hearts and to try to forget bad ones. On the board, I wrote, "When someone you love becomes a memory, the memory becomes a treasure."

I always allowed my students to ask questions; it was amazing how tactful the little ones could be. Their questions showed a sensitivity many adults don't always display. I also cautioned them that there would be times when I would feel sad. They needed to know that it was okay for me to cry. I received lots of hugs and "Are you okays?" The students became my support and a way to filter my grief. They were never morbid, and I didn't dwell on the facts. We had a great year from February to June, and I really hated to see that class go on.

Life lessons. Those students are in second grade now, but they still come to check on me. When any child in our school loses a loved one, he or she is often sent to me. I show the student my locket and emphasize the need to keep the good memories.

The lesson I learned that year was one of the most important of my life. I had confirmed my feelings that teachers cannot live in vacuums. We need to be approachable. We need to share all parts of our lives. We are real people who experience real events. Most of all, I learned the value of the daily story with authentic writing.

So, open up to your students. There's a whole world of events you can share with them, and I feel it's our responsibility to do so. Frank Smith talks about joining the "Literacy Club." I might call it the "Life Club." I don't advocate going beyond the personal boundaries each of us has established, but let your students know you're real. My first grade teacher Miss Twohig did, and I will forever thank her.

I will always miss my son, Marc. (Sixteen years is not enough for anyone.) I learned along with the children that family is important, no matter who, or what kind. Treasure the memories. I do.

Pamela Schluter teaches first grade at Minot Forest Elementary School in Wareham, MA.

February, 1995, Vol.25, No.5