Student Reflections

My new favorite thing to do since I jumped to middle school is to have kids evaluate their own learning. I learn so much about my teaching that I would never ever figure out without them sharing their thoughts in their own words. We recently completed the novel Esperanza Rising so it was time to reflect. Two of the questions asked them to reflect on their thoughts on the book and to consider how their reading has improved from the activities we did. Here are a few of my favorites:

I really think that Esperanza Rising was a good book because it taught me that money is not always the most important thing. My reading improved a lot because some words I didn't even know existed were taught to me and I learned them.

I liked this book in the beginning. The middle was great but the end needs work. I learned more words and the book's message made my thinking improve.

I like the book a lot. It teaches people that you can go through a lot of changes and still be happy. Nothing is better than family. My reading has improved because I didn't really like the book at first but then I started reading more which got me interested.

I loved the book. It gave me understanding and hope and reminded me that everyone should be grateful for having a family. It taught me how to accept me for me. My last thought would be to be happy for what you have. My reading improved dramatically. It allowed me to think of questions which led to great ideas. It gave me an opportunity to increase the suspense in stories. Also, it allowed me to never quit while reading because maybe in the next page it might get interesting.

I thought the book was pretty good. It had a lot of surprising parts in it. It has given me patience in reading because I always had to wait before reading the next chapter.

I thought the book was really exciting and mind catching. I never wanted to put down the book. There were many events that made me wonder and ask questions so that was good. I would honestly say that it was one of the best books I have read. We are now more skilled and we take a lot more time to think about books. We have gained more knowledge to reflect on our reading. We will now read books more carefully.

Esperanza Rising is one of my top 6 favorite books. It helped me understand that when you read, you really need to think about what's happening in the story.

Esperanza Rising was a really good book. It reminded me of my grandma's life when she was younger. Well, I still think my reading is the same, but this has encouraged me to read different books.

The book has kind of made me think that money isn't everything and to like what you have while you still have it. It made me believe that I can read a long book if I put my thoughts into it.

I think it has changed my perspective about things because I used to think reading novels like this was boring but now I don't. I learned a lot of things about reading realistic fiction. I learned that maybe reading realistic fiction would be kind of fun.

It taught me a lesson. I changed. I'm a completely different person and I will never be the same way again.

Play Dates and Pixie Dust Brighten Abuela's Week

By ANA VECIANA-SUAREZ

aveciana@MiamiHerald.com

I've been looking forward to this all week, daydreaming at my desk, plotting activities over lunch. This will be the absolutely, most completely perfect Sunday: The grandchildren are coming! The grandchildren are coming! It's the start of summer vacation and the night before Christmas all rolled into one.

I'm a grandmother lucky enough to live within 10 minutes of my three granddaughters, a veritable hop-skip-and-jump from a world of pixie dust and tea parties. I pilfer moments to visit during the week, but my long days and their early bedtimes translate into scarce opportunities.
Until the weekend. And even then a full-scale play date requires careful planning around the kids' busy social schedule -- birthday parties galore! -- and delicate negotiations with the other sets of grandparents. I'm not above shameless bribery.

``I have chocolate,'' I tease over the phone one afternoon. ``Lots of chocolate. And cookies.''
At home they adhere to strict dietary guidelines. At Abuela's house . . .

``The butterfly is waiting for you,'' I tell them another day. And it is, a dead tiger swallowtail that I laid to rest in a jewelry box. Though its yellow and black wings are dry and crumbly, it remains a prized possession, as do a bird's nest abandoned in the bushes and a snake skin I found while weeding.

``We'll go swimming,'' I add, pulling out all the stops. This is a favorite activity, done best with their Zayde, who doesn't care how many times his shampooed hair gets wet.

Then Sunday dawns cloudless and balmy, Miami's attempt at fall weather. All three -- my son's twins and my daughter's toddler -- are deposited on my doorstep and I practically slam the door in their parents' anxious faces. So many rules, so many mandates. I can't believe I've produced such persnickety grownups.

Then, finally, we're alone and together: Let the good times roll.

We bake cookies for Uncle Ben away at college, plucking the chocolate chips out of the dough without remorse.

We study the grass snake that has slipped into the bathtub through the drain pipe and practice the sound of the letter S until we collapse in giggles.
Then, as the sun -- another S! -- settles behind the areca hedge, we go bug-hunting, a bald baby doll and red wagon in tow.

``Skip the children,'' my husband advises friends. ``Go straight to grandchildren. It's a lot more fun.''

He's right. Grandparenting is the ice cream sundae without the calories, the shop-till-you-drop extravaganza without the credit card bills. In other words, pleasure without responsibility.
And yet, cuddling with the third generation fills you with precisely that: a sense of duty, a recognition of accountability. The sweet scent of their sweat, their outstretched arms, the lips puckered for a wet kiss, the soft melody of their childish voices -- all these infuse me with energy and determination. There's a clarity of purpose that arrives with your children's children. The world, and your place in it, becomes more meaningful.

Ah, so this is the reward for all the heartaches of childrearing.

An old friend says my face changes when I speak of my grandchildren. It softens, it opens, it turns welcoming and vulnerable.

I don't doubt it. It's a reflection of my brimming heart. In their presence I feel suddenly and inexplicably beautiful.