ABSTRACT

I am standing by the doors on Elmwood to let my kindergarten students into school. It is a cold, windy February day-the kind of day when you cannot warm up, even if you are wearing a coat, hat, scarf and gloves. Anna comes running down the sidewalk from her mother’s car, her hands full of home-made envelopes with her friends’ names written across the front. She is smiling. As she enters the school, Anna grabs my hand and asks, “Are we going to have ‘writing time’ today?” I squeeze her hand and smile as I tell her, “Yes.”