by Deb Pierotti, Oak Grove School, Brattleboro, VT

My hope as a teacher is to offer the fullest spectrum of learning for my students--a learning process that involves exploration and discovery beyond the curriculum and the classroom. Last year my third grade class and I began a study that seemed to take on a life of its own: it both stretched and enlarged us more than any of us could have imagined from its simple beginnings. Our theme of study was entitled "Schools of the Past." We learned that during World War Two, school children were very involved in the war effort. Their efforts included sewing clothing and knitting socks and blankets to be sent to the soldiers overseas. While reading about the school life of Molly Mckintire, from Molly Learns a Lesson, our class became inspired by Molly's schoolmates' dedication to knitting a blanket for the war efforts of 1944. Their immediate response was "We can do that too!"

Eaddy Sutton, our intern from Antioch, offered to teach the third grade students to knit. She began very slowly, in order to capture their initial enthusiasm and wonder. "A small little mouse, crept into the house, a cat chased him around the back and through the middle--" Rhythmically her storytelling voice guided us through the knitting rhyme, "--so the mouse, carefully backed out and off he ran!" We chanted, we sang and then we began. Wooden kabob skewers, meticulously sanded and waxed by each child, became their working tools. Some discovered they could knit with pencils! For some, holding needles taxed their

"Today we went to Eden Park Nursing Home to bring our knitted blanket. There was one lady who was a nurse in World War Two. As she was talking she started to cry because she was hurt in her heart. The people were very excited to have our blanket that we had worked on for seven months. I was very proud to give it away."

fine motor skills, and stress signs began to erupt. Needles dropped. "I can't do this!" For many students, knitting was the most difficult skill they had ever attempted. For the first time, individual students realized the frustration of their classmates and tried to offer supporting words. "You can do it." "It takes time to learn something new." "Don't give up." Miraculously one student got it, taught it to another, and like dominoes, the class chimed "I GOT IT!" Our daily routine soon included thirty minute hand work times, echoing with praise or encouraging words of enthusiasm. The wave of excitement rose and fell; after awhile some students began to lose interest. Soon another wave of inspiration moved us forward as we began to see our work in progress. Our efforts lay on the floor, knitted squares side by side beginning to form a blanket. We saw how far we'd come, and decided one by one to recommit to our goal. As one student said: "When I first started to knit I felt frustrated because I kept losing stitches. I gave up for awhile and even threw my knitting down but then I become excited because we started to look at how much we had knitted so far, so I started knitting again."

Knitting wove its way into all parts of the curriculum. One student made the connection that knitting was multiplication. "Ms. Pierotti, knitting helps people do multiplication. For example if you had 3 stitches across and 2 stitches down, that would tell you 3 X 2=6 stitches altogether!" This moment was a turning point. Students chimed in "What's your array?" and soon new shapes took form: rectangles and squares of varying dimensions. I witnessed a classroom full of children making a cognitive leap forward as they built their own bridge from experience to knowing. "I have 5 across and 3 down, so my total number of stitches is 15!! Their discovery became intrinsic knowing, a connection made through their own hands-on experience--"real world" learning. Knitting had captured their concentration and focus, and pulled out of them a solid understanding of a mathematical concept built on their own discovery. The joy that this learning experience brought was an "aha!" moment, the kind of feeling we all have when we have finally locked into our knowing.

Hands working and minds stretching, knitting became part of the fabric of our writing; both reflective writing and creative writing emerged. Knitting sparked imagination as a child wrote in his poem, "When I knit my imagination turns on like a light bulb and I find myself in a wildlife jungle." Students also reflected on the process as a whole. One wrote: "In the beginning I felt nervous and frustrated because it was hard to keep all my stitches on the needles. As I kept going I got better at concentrating on my work and I got faster."

I observed this group of third grade individuals weave themselves together into a caring community. As we laid out our squares and began stitching them together, one student commented that "we are all a part of this blanket, each of us is in this." The blanket and the process of creating took on a whole new meaning as they saw their pieces becoming a part of the whole. Each square being stitched to another was like a hand reaching out to join another and say "Look, look what happens when we create together." The entire school shared in our process as they first saw


our squares displayed on our bulletin board and then viewed the final quilt. Students from other classes asked for knitting lessons from our third graders and a connection between classes formed. Now our coming together had stretched beyond our classroom.

As we proudly showed our end product we realized the time had come to give it up. As a class we brain-stormed our possibilities. We found out that residents at Eden Park Nursing Home had been reminiscing about knitting sweaters and blankets during World War Two. Eden Park seemed like the perfect home for our blanket.

Waiting there for us was a group of twenty elderly people who had been children and young adults during World War Two. We told our stories, our beginnings--the excitement, the frustration in the middle, the recommitting, feelings of accomplishment, and the end, giving away something close to us. The entire process unfolded as the children told their story. "It felt good to give our blanket away, but I also wished I could keep it because it was such a beautiful blanket. I felt proud of giving it away because someone who is selfish would have kept it to put on their bed and slept with it every night." said one student.

The students wanted their blanket to be used and appreciated just as if it were being sent overseas. Their blanket will be put on a bed and slept with every night. Each month at the All Resident Council at Eden Park, a name will be drawn. The lucky winner will get to keep the blanket and card in their room for the month. In this way our blanket--the product of our frustration, determination and learning--will be shared by people who are sure to be warmed by our efforts in more ways than one.

After we presented the blanket and shared our stories, it was the elders turn to share with us. Our class listened with awe and respect as our new friends with gray hair and in wheelchairs told us about making pajamas and knitting socks and blankets to give to the Red Cross, who would send them where they were needed most. Students' expressions changed as they felt the commonality between the generations. As they heard what they had studied being voiced by the people who had lived it, history wove itself into the present moment. "Yes, during World War Two we had air raid drills in school." "I put my name in the sweater I knitted and received a thank you letter from a soldier."

When one of the elders began to speak, her quivering voice held us in pure attention. In her wheelchair, her body bent over, with tears in her eyes, she said, "You want to hear about the war? Oh, it was horrible, the killing, the poor boys that died, oh so many of them..." Her words full of sadness, heartbreak, and compassion reached us. The pain-filled words of a woman who was a nurse during the war made the horror real. As I looked around me, I saw the faces of my students fill with emotion, their eyes holding back the tears.

War for so many children is romanticized through television. Yet through this calling on the past, this history being brought into the moment, an awareness had been "rooted" into their knowing to a depth that held compassion.

That same day as we wrote in our reflective journals of our experience, words poured onto the pages. "I got to let my care and concern out of my body. I think that a nursing home is a great thing and that the war is scary and it is sad because soldiers were wounded. People cried because they saw it in real life."

More than a year has passed since our offering. My third graders are with me again as fourth graders. I have noticed the levels of concentration and focus they have developed. During our Language and Literacy time, as I read, they knit and listen for comprehension, and as they knit we discuss what we've read. The concentration and focus has expanded beyond what I would have expected developmentally. Cursive writing comes with ease, as the students' small motor skills have been strengthened through knitting. Their poetry is enveloped with voice and feeling that comes from having the rare opportunity to express parts of their innermost selves. Sharing their quilt and stories with elders allowed a true empathy to develop between these generations.