Tuesday, November 10, 2026

Slice of Life: Breathing, Scripting, and Teaching

On Tuesdays, Two Writing Teachers hosts the Slice of Life. Everyone is welcome to share writing and comment on others in this special community. 

  

I am currently in a front-row seat for watching a first-year teacher navigate a challenging first year. My youngest daughter, Cecily, is teaching third grade at a magnet school, and it's hard. I've gotten better at holding back some of my commentary when she describes lessons and interactions. She has a lot of support. The coaches, interventionists, and the assistant principal are all there to guide and support. And, from what I can tell, she has a great team, and they appreciate the work she's doing. They should. 

Last night, she went over her observation lesson with me that she'll give today. She's gotten good at watching my face when she shares ideas and plans; she can tell when I like something, when I agree with something, when I can envision something... and when I don't. (I've never been good at maintaining a straight face. Poker would not be my strength.) When she showed me the slide deck she'd used, I might have grimaced, I maybe might have even taken an audible breath, when she got to the "breathing" slide that she'd use before launching the lesson. 

"What?" she asked. "What's wrong with asking them to breathe?"

"Nothing," I said, trying to formulate words for the issue I had with the slide. 

She played the slide, and I had even more of an issue. It was a short video of a voice directing the audience to inhale while an arrow went around a curve and exhale when it came down. 

"Then what?" She is relentless, an important trait for teachers. 

"You know how to take a breath," I said. "You know the steps for taking a breath. Why are you offloading that instruction to a video?" 

She was thinking, so I gave her a moment. And then I continued. I wish I could remember more of how our conversation went, but the gist of it was that the video was a scaffold for focused breathing, an important life skill. I have been using mindful breathing all over the place; it gets me through a lot. 

"Do you want to send the message that they need a video in order to take a mindful breath?" I think I said. I know I was being a little dramatic, but I have an issue with videos for instruction when teachers can do the instruction.  I'm not saying never... but for breathing? That's even worse those movement videos which I could also go on a rant about. 

"I can tell them to take a breath," she said. "I can coach them to inhale and exhale." 

Out went that slide. And we still had the whole lesson to get through. Fortunately, the biggest issue I had with the entire thing was who gets to tell kids how to breathe. 

This morning, I read Leah Mermelstein's post which is part of a series she's written about scripts. It's brilliant. She's brilliant. What is the purpose of scripts? When do teachers need them? I know the answer is far from black and white, and it's important to be talking about it and thinking a LOT about it. 

I'm hoping not for breathing, though. 

Tuesday, November 3, 2026

Slice of Life: A Student Who Challenges Me

    On Tuesdays, Two Writing Teachers hosts the Slice of Life. Everyone is welcome to share writing and comment on others in this special community. 

  

Today is my one-year anniversary of officially starting The Writing Clinic, and it took a moment for me to remember why the date was familiar this morning. 11/3, 11/3, my brain said to itself, rolling the numbers around and trying to place their importance. Ah, one year ago today, I saw my first student in my new office. 

I have a great group of students, and I appreciated Erika's post today, talking about the interactions of children with parents. Tonight, I. arrived, and it was clear that he and his mother were nipping at each other. Their tension didn't surprise me. I know that I. wants to please his parents and teachers, but (or and) he's smart, and he knows how to say adult-pleasing responses without understanding the responses himself, and definitely not caring about the learning or the rationale behind them. He's an interesting kid to tutor. I find myself vacillating between holding his feet to the fire and finding my best and most engaging lessons. He reminds me of one of my teaching adages: The toughest students make me a better teacher. 

It took a little while... he completed his reflective admit slip, and then we worked on a 10-sentence story, and then we reviewed some grammatical concepts (which he seems to especially like, or especially not dislike, as he might say)...but he relaxed, smiled, and--dare I say-- laughed. It was fascinating to watch the engagement drain as soon as we left my office, and he and his mom were together again. 

There are times I become nostalgic about my daughters and the passage of time, but I do remember some of the most hurtful interactions when the girls were in middle school. I don't think I miss those days.