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Ulysses and Hurl a Squirrel by Adrienne Johnson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License. |
“Flora’s heart leaped up high inside of her in a hopeful and extremely uncynical kind of way. She closed her eyes. Don’t hope, she told her heart. Do not hope; instead, observe.”
As summer swept through the WISS library last May, I sought some way to unite my readers over the break, to inspire family read-alouds, and to give my students something to look forward to upon returning to our library in the fall. Inspired by my library compatriot, Yvonne Baumann, I launched out first Summer Reading Spectacular last June, just before we released the children from our clutches to embrace the summer heat—and slide.
Often when the twinkling of a new program surfaces in my planning, I think to myself, I can try. I don’t know if I can do it, but I can try.
With input from primary teachers, we selected Kate DiCamillo’s heartwarming and hilarious read Flora & Ulysses, winner of the 2014 Newbery Medal, and invited all primary students and teachers to read it over the summer. The deal was students would get their hands on the book, read it, email a photo of them reading in a spectacular summer location—anywhere from inside a batty cave, swinging in a hammock on the beach, or secured in a blanket fort in their living rooms—and we would all celebrate together in August.
“Do not hope, Flora thought. But she couldn’t help it. She did hope. She was hoping. She had been hoping all along.”
When I ordered forty copies of the book, hung up the posters around the school, and pitched the program to my students I thought, I don’t know if the kids will care, if the parents will send the money for the book, if anyone will actually read it. But I can try. I can try for those who want it, and those who need it, and those who don’t know they want it and need it.
When the stack of books on my desk began to dwindle, I felt a little hope creep into my heart. When the stack disappeared, I had a one-person dance party.
Hooray! Photos came in over the summer, and we sent celebration invitations to students during the first week of school. My legendary partner in literacy, grade four teacher Amy Kent, helped plan the party and picked and pulled apart passages from the book to create Flora & Ulysses Mad Libs. With the help of Mr. Edward, Ms. Hundley, four-dozen donuts and Hurl-a-Squirrel*, we created space for forty students to extend their thinking about the book and indulge in a little literary talk and shenanigans with their peers.
Wakana, a Japanese girl who joined our school last spring, sent me this letter and photo, which add the sprinkles to this giant-jelly-donut of a library experiment:
As summer swept through the WISS library last May, I sought some way to unite my readers over the break, to inspire family read-alouds, and to give my students something to look forward to upon returning to our library in the fall. Inspired by my library compatriot, Yvonne Baumann, I launched out first Summer Reading Spectacular last June, just before we released the children from our clutches to embrace the summer heat—and slide.
Often when the twinkling of a new program surfaces in my planning, I think to myself, I can try. I don’t know if I can do it, but I can try.
With input from primary teachers, we selected Kate DiCamillo’s heartwarming and hilarious read Flora & Ulysses, winner of the 2014 Newbery Medal, and invited all primary students and teachers to read it over the summer. The deal was students would get their hands on the book, read it, email a photo of them reading in a spectacular summer location—anywhere from inside a batty cave, swinging in a hammock on the beach, or secured in a blanket fort in their living rooms—and we would all celebrate together in August.
“Do not hope, Flora thought. But she couldn’t help it. She did hope. She was hoping. She had been hoping all along.”
When I ordered forty copies of the book, hung up the posters around the school, and pitched the program to my students I thought, I don’t know if the kids will care, if the parents will send the money for the book, if anyone will actually read it. But I can try. I can try for those who want it, and those who need it, and those who don’t know they want it and need it.
When the stack of books on my desk began to dwindle, I felt a little hope creep into my heart. When the stack disappeared, I had a one-person dance party.
Hooray! Photos came in over the summer, and we sent celebration invitations to students during the first week of school. My legendary partner in literacy, grade four teacher Amy Kent, helped plan the party and picked and pulled apart passages from the book to create Flora & Ulysses Mad Libs. With the help of Mr. Edward, Ms. Hundley, four-dozen donuts and Hurl-a-Squirrel*, we created space for forty students to extend their thinking about the book and indulge in a little literary talk and shenanigans with their peers.
Wakana, a Japanese girl who joined our school last spring, sent me this letter and photo, which add the sprinkles to this giant-jelly-donut of a library experiment:
*No living squirrels were harmed during this activity. Hurling, flinging, or pitching live squirrels is a terrible practice and something Incandesto would definitely fight against.