This photo shows our schedule cards, one of several ways that we track the passage of time in our classroom. Each card has a photo and written description of the day's components. I've used schedule cards in my classroom for just about my entire teaching career, and for lots of reasons. They incorporate elements of literacy (written language, symbols, left-to-right progression) and math (sequencing, counting, concepts of time). They can also provide children with a sense of security and help ease transitions as the cards help them anticipate "what comes next." I always make sure that the day's schedule cards are ready to go every morning, and I often see the children referring to them throughout the day. They're a little tool that allows for so much student independence.
But sometimes, I really hate them.
Because this scenario often happens: The classroom is humming. The children are deeply engaged in their work. I look at the clock. I look at the schedule cards. "I don't really want to stop them," I usually say to my co-teacher. I'll see that there's a way to extend what's happening if I move around the schedule cards, if I just eliminate something else. And maybe I'm ready to do just that, maybe I'm holding the card in my hand, when suddenly, there he is, right by my side. The student who was desperately looking forward to exactly what's on the card I'm about to remove. So I'll give him a brief explanation of why I'm doing what I am or assure her that this particular schedule card will be back again soon. Still, I know this student is disappointed. I know that I've accurately read the sense of the group, but come up short in terms of the individual.
I love, love, love the flexibility of my schedule. And I know that our schedule cards are a huge support for many of our students. But sometimes, I wonder: What if there was no schedule at all? What might happen then? Or what if each student had their own schedule cards that they could use to arrange their days? Or maybe small groups of children could work together to create their schedule?
Maybe.
What does a schedule look like in your classroom? Why?
But sometimes, I really hate them.
Because this scenario often happens: The classroom is humming. The children are deeply engaged in their work. I look at the clock. I look at the schedule cards. "I don't really want to stop them," I usually say to my co-teacher. I'll see that there's a way to extend what's happening if I move around the schedule cards, if I just eliminate something else. And maybe I'm ready to do just that, maybe I'm holding the card in my hand, when suddenly, there he is, right by my side. The student who was desperately looking forward to exactly what's on the card I'm about to remove. So I'll give him a brief explanation of why I'm doing what I am or assure her that this particular schedule card will be back again soon. Still, I know this student is disappointed. I know that I've accurately read the sense of the group, but come up short in terms of the individual.
I love, love, love the flexibility of my schedule. And I know that our schedule cards are a huge support for many of our students. But sometimes, I wonder: What if there was no schedule at all? What might happen then? Or what if each student had their own schedule cards that they could use to arrange their days? Or maybe small groups of children could work together to create their schedule?
Maybe.
What does a schedule look like in your classroom? Why?
