Book Giveaway: Notes from the Playground

Book Giveaway: Notes from the Playground

As a special thank you to our subscribers to our blog, each month we will give away autographed books by a wide range of authors and poets. Winners are picked randomly at the end of each Book Giveaway. Simply sign-up for our blog — one blog post will be sent to your inbox each week — and you will be entered into the monthly drawings for our Book Giveaways.

Our next Book Giveaway is Greg John’s Notes from the Playground. It’s one of my favorites. Greg has the gift of being able to see the world through the eyes of his elementary school students. He captures their wisdom and wonder, their ups and downs, and their ability to turn on a dime (to find something new to occupy their time and imagination) or how some images and experiences will be with them for a very long time, if not forever.  And, as their principal, he shares his thoughts (often reflecting back on his own days on the playground) and how he responds.  Each time, I nod and think, yes, that’s how it should be.

These are wonderful stories for principals, teachers, parents – for all of us who have spent time on playgrounds!

“Notes from the Playground” is a regular feature on our blog. For this series, Greg John generously allows us to share stories from his book. Below are the opening lines of the stories we’ve posted so far.  Beware, they’ll make you want to read the full story!

Be sure to subscribe to our blog by December 12th to be entered to win an autographed copy of Notes from the Playground – and all our monthly Book Giveaways.

Stories from Notes from the Playground:

Forever: When Karina and Grace got into it yesterday morning, they did not know that I stood near enough to hear every word. It started with a typical litany of grievances, infractions, betrayals, and spite delivered with a hiss. The first barrage came from Karina. Then, with a stammer, from Grace. Then back to the top…

Sugar: A first grader named Leonard caught my eye this morning not so much because of how he moved, but because he did not move at all. That’s odd, I thought. Leonard never stops moving. Instead, he sat still on his slide-top lookout, bold in his red shirt and big Ben Davis trousers, and motionless. I observed him for a minute, expecting him to slide down. He did not slide…

Chomp: Carlos and Tamia, both kindergartners, sat on my playground bench this morning. I told them to plant their backsides there until I could clear up a couple of things. Carlos wriggled. His orange sneakers swung back and forth, inches above the ground. Tamia sat calm, hands folded in her lap. Winter sun hung low and bright over the treeless yard…

Rain: Sixty kindergartners and I sat huddled in the cafeteria. Rain slapped against the windows and the roar of falling water came on strong. The rumble alone brought a hush to this bundled little pack of five year-olds…

Cracked:  Four young girls got into a scrape on the yard. One nudged another in passing. The other took the nudge as a shove. Then came two right jabs, one left hook, a trail of tears, parent meetings, and a juicy black eye…

Trumpet:If I tell you a story about a particular kind of pitch – a slow rollie – and if I tell you about the kick that followed, I am not telling you what I saw. I am re-telling a nine year-old’s tale. I will admit that I had my back turned at the time…

Matches: Big surprises can arrive in quiet ways. That’s how I met my newest fire-starter, Xavier. Ms. Carter brought the curly-haired, big spectacled second grader through my door. Young boy and older woman stood just inside the doorway, waiting for me to look up…

Up: Yard duty Monday morning began with clouds punching across a square patch of blue above our playground. Then, in the span of half a recess, a storm front arrived in full and paused overhead…

Tattoo: Matthew, a fast sneakered ten-year old, beat me to the playground this morning. Better to say he bolted across the blacktop. I didn’t try to keep up…

Stars: When the lights went out during a nighttime performance at the school a few weeks ago, we decided to clear the building and get folks home. Fifteen minutes later, only six neighborhood kids, all in the fourth grade, remained. I told them to gather in the hall under a single emergency light so that we could walk together to their apartment units across the street. Anika, however, had her own idea…

Fireman:David, a five year old, walked through the back gate of the school. He held up five fingers to show the number of superpowers he had the day. Each day, he’d report a different number, but no matter. Four one day, six another. He just wanted me to know he had things covered should he need that extra boost. I watched him elbow his way into the mix around the play structure as his day began…

Wham! ( A story for Thanksgiving, the playground and beyond): Wham! A shoe thuds against the front door to the school. Bam! Door flies open and collides with cheap wall tile. Pow! Framed in the doorway, punched out in back-lit sunrise silhouette stands Jeremiah. He whips his book bag from his shoulder and slams it on the floor. Then, he pulls up his hood, shoves his hands in his jeans pockets, and floor-kicks his way to the closest corner…

About Notes from the Playground:

“From the moment I met Principal Greg John out on the playground, I knew he understood the power of play to bring out the best in every kid. Greg is one of the most curious people I know. Despite the very real demands of being a principal, he approaches the job with an uncommon openness and excitement. When I learned that Greg was sharing his observations in writing, I was thrilled.

The vignettes in Greg’s new book, Notes from the Playground, chart the unfolding of young hearts as children stand up, get knocked down, and stand once again. They carry one back to what it was like to step onto this asphalt proving ground, and underscore how play contributes to kids’ physical and emotional well-being; their academic achievement; and their capacity for trust, self-control, and conflict resolution.

Play theorist Brian Sutton-Smith wrote, “The opposite of play is not work; the opposite of play is depression.” Play is kids’ work. Greg’s writing provides a much-needed and empathic focus on the child’s perspective: the playground is recognized as the place where it all happens. Through play, children gain the ability to handle failure, to work in teams, and to take risks.

Notes from the Playground makes clear that play matters because people matter, and that play represents a tremendous opportunity for people to get to know one another—to see and be seen by others. Far from frivolous, play is portrayed as important developmental work. Experiences on the playground spill over into classrooms, homes, jobs, and relationships. They make a greater contribution to how children see themselves and to who they become than much of what they learn in school.

Notes from the Playground reminds adults of the world that children see, and in sharing that perspective, it offers the chance for us to imagine the world our kids deserve—one in which through play, they grow into the kind of grown-ups we so desperately need them to become.” — Playworks

When my son was young, we would walk down the street and he would suddenly stop and study the cracks in the sidewalk like some sort of revelation. Ants wouldn’t escape his view; nothing small, beautiful and wonderful did. He showed us what we would have missed. And this is what Greg does each time he writes: wisdom gleaned from the kickball diamond; miracles caused by cupcakes; the warmth of light through school room blinds; how chalk marks on a blacktop reveal secrets and then wash them away after a rain; that your heart can be opened day after day when you stand in a playground watching and listening. May this collection help us find our way to helping others see the meaningful details of each and every day, in spite of the distractions of living in a very noisy world. — Michele Modena