Sunday afternoon I walk into my classroom, and an explosion greets me.
On the carpet, the tables, bursting out of the cabinets, are books. Piles of books.
Out with the old and in with the new. The changing of a classroom library.
The last units on non-fiction and realistic fiction are boxed up. Waiting to be put away in the cabinets.
The shelves are empty. Waiting to be filled with fantasy, a renewed selection of realistic fiction, poetry, and nonfiction.
Over the years, I’ve collected books for units of study, for kids’ interests. Each book has a history.
I pick up the Guardians of the Gahoole series, and I remember those students who loved Gelfie and Soren. Maybird, The Unicorn Chronicles, and Emily Windsnap bring to mind the girls who begged for the next in the series. Owlboy, the superhero of the sewers, is always a favorite. Each book reminds me of a kid or makes me think of a potential reader. Sir Fartsalot. I know the group for this one.
Hours later the room is finished. Every book will be new to my current crop of fifth graders. I leave knowing that books will attach themselves to children. Books will make their mark. Students will love these books.
Monday morning, before class,
the usuals stop in.
To ask if they can help, to talk.
This morning,
spotting the change they swarm.
And dig in.
Dragons, unicorns, witches, mermaids, wizards, friendly giants.
What more could a kid ask for?
At lunchtime, a group of girls made unicorns out of colored paper and taped them to their heads. They said they were alicorns. Alicorns? I asked, Yeah, those are girl unicorns. Then there were the Pegacorns. These are half unicorn, half Pegasus creatures.
Ah, the magic of fantasy.The promise of new books. I can’t help but smile.
Thank you, Two Writing Teachers for Slice of Life Tuesdays. Read more slices here.
To Read To Write To Be 