On the first day of school each year my students and I spend the early hours of the day putting together puzzles that are scattered around the room. The puzzles vary in difficulty and the pictures range from kittens and castles to state puzzles and mountaintops. We mill around the room helping each other, giving suggestions or just casually adding a piece where it fits. The activity ends with some puzzles complete and others still in progress. I then write the word “essential” on the board and we discuss its meaning. Webster defines essential as something that is necessary or fundamental, like each piece in the puzzles worked on that morning. If one small part of the kitten is missing, the picture would not be complete. The lesson continues as we talk about what is essential in our lives… what is necessary in creating the picture of who we are? Each child is then given a blank puzzle and asked to create a picture that represents themselves as individuals, keeping in mind that each piece must be essential. The puzzles vary from child to child--some done in black and white, others colorful with words on each piece and small pictures to match, others put the puzzle together first and draw one large picture using all the pieces. These puzzles become part of our classroom activity center and are shared by the students throughout the year, usually to the point where the edges become frayed and tattered.
Twelve years since last being a student in a classroom, I now sit in their position and am asked to tell you who I am. I think about my students and the puzzle activity and I think about what is essential in my life. What would my puzzle look like?
It would be made of pieces shaded in earth tones, conveying my love for spending time outdoors and being surrounded by nature. On each piece would be a carefully selected word or phrase varying in size and font:
Teacher, traveler, friend, aunt, hiker, biker, skier, reader, enjoys yoga, meditation, student, daughter, analyzer, researcher, dreamer, loves laughter, wine and coffee, VW GOLF driver . . .
My puzzle would be round with no sharp corners, and it would be easy to assemble, as I do not like mystery and uncertainty in my life. I like things to make sense. It would be translated into many languages, and it would travel to toy stores around the globe. With each assembly, by a new set of hands, my puzzle would grow in size, being enriched by each person who took the time to get to know its pieces. At times, the effect would be completely unexpected, like the changes that occurred during a dinner with a heavy equipment operator one winter night in
Back in my classroom, as the day winds down, the children are given one final puzzle piece. This time is it large with their name imprinted on it in bold letters. We discuss how each piece is unique in size and shape, but with a little effort they can be easily connected. We create the picture of our classroom, hanging it in a prominent place, a reminder to us, that we are all essential and that we are all “part of the picture.”
Embarking on this new journey to The University of Virginia, one that lacks my usual comfort of a plane ticket to far off destination and away from the familiarity of
