The magic of Possum Magic pt.1

Learning to write through authentic Australian literatue - ES1-S1

As a first-year casual teacher , I have realised that some days are a surprise. Literally.

I was recently booked in to teach a Year 4 class. I arrived at school before 8am and set about planning and organising my day. The teacher had said that work would be left and I was surprised to find that it had not been. I raced around - making photocopies, doing a mental rundown of the content of studyladder and sourcing concrete materials. It wasn't until 8:35 when, by chance, another staff member told me I'd been moved - to teach Kindergarten! Normally, this wouldn't be an issue at all but I had only brought my 3-6 folder of lessons and I had the morning duty starting at 8:40.

5 minutes to plan a whole day?!?!

And this is where the magic of Possum Magic comes in.

Possum Magic - inarguably the most famous and most loved Australian Children's Picture Book of all time - is a treasure trove for a teacher and it is my fail-safe backup that I ALWAYS have with me.

I have planned a range of lessons around this book that are suitable for everyone from K-6 and saved them as PowerPoint slides on my usb and on dropbox. I'm going to share them on this blog, as I get the time. This post focuses on a literacy lesson about alliteration.

ES1 - S1:


Read the book. Ask children to comment, focusing on the different food types and the different places Grandma Poss and Hush visit. Lots of kids won't know what scones, mornay or lamingtons are. Re-read the story, interrupting to point out rhymes, how emotions are portrayed by characters, especially beautiful pictures etc.

Re-read the following page, emphasising the alliteration, asking students if they can hear WHY this page is so special.

Eventually, a clever cookie will tell you that they can hear the same sounds and provide an example from the text. Tell children that they are going to 'create their own page' from the book, using the principles of alliteration.  Differentiate this lesson to suit your own kids - it's easy to jointly construct one, or encourage older students to independently think of their own alliteration, write a single sentence or a whole paragraph. I normally start off with a brainstorm of locations (in and around the school or local area), choose one and then brainstorm for food types that alliterate with that location.


Real-life Kindy examples:

'They ate carrot cake in the classroom.'
'They ate lovely lollies in the library.'

Spend some time reminding the little ones about the structure of a sentence (full stop, capital, finger spaces, correct handwriting etc.) and then write away! Students should creatively draw a picture to match their sentence - if you have the time it would be great to do an art lesson and then stick the sentences at the bottom.






Click here for a free publication with teaching notes for Possum Magic.

Shaun Tan Artwork - Year 3

I'm going to put it out there. Shaun Tan is the best illustrator ever. I LOVE him.

I regularly use his books as teaching resources because they are brilliant and powerful.

I've recently been doing an art based mini unit of work based around the incomparable book - The Lost Thing.

Here are the amazing creations of some beautiful Year 3ers.

The brief was for students' to create their own 'Lost Thing' in a landscape inspired by the book's background.

Students created a collage background using torn newspapers, technical drawings and pages from an old copy of Phantom of the Opera.

The kids created a 'Lost Thing' creature and coloured it, so as to contrast against the sepia-toned background. Hint: don't use textas - they run in the next step.

We then washed our artwork with tea! Allowed to dry, this technique gave the artwork a mottled, sepia look.

Once dry, the children used black textas to outline and add detail to their work.



The children loved poring over Tan's collection for inspiration and were extremely inventive with their own creations.

I emphasised at the beginning: "Don't ask me if you can do this or if you can do that. This is your own artwork. So long as I can see that you've been inspired by Shaun Tan, I'll be happy. Feel free to CREATE!"

I have recently re-done this lesson with Year 6 - I'll post pics once they're finished!

My first day teaching Kindergarten

Reflections on March 7 2012

Teaching kindergarten in Term 1 is scary.

Teaching kindergarten for the first time EVER, in Term 1 is terrifying.

Teaching kindergarten for the first time EVER, on my second day of teaching EVER, in Term 1 was downright paralyzing.

Throw into the mix the heaviest rainfall Sydney has seen in five years and the end result has all the makings of a comedic tragedy.

Impossibly tiny children had begun to arrive well before the bell, rollicking into the hallways in a blur of damp frizzled hair, raincoats that sprayed droplets of water everywhere and squeals of horror (i.e. pure joy at the novelty of being drenched at school).

The collective, pragmatic voice of my University lecturers resounded in my brain: "Teaching Kindergarten is not easy." I had long ago abandoned the image of teaching that so many people continue to hold: teaching is NOT twenty angelic faces smiling up at the teacher with a glow of youthful wonder at her enlightening tutelage. However I was still disarmed by my less than welcoming introduction to a Kindergartner.

"WHY are you here? You're not my teacher."

And so the day had begun. Soaking shoes and socks were discarded in a haphazard pile in front of the door while children ran barefoot across the carpet. My mind was in overdrive as I had premonitions of thumb tacks in heels, waxy crayons jammed between toes and carpet burns covering entire bodies. With a knowing smile that said 'I have lived through hundreds of school floods' an older teacher stuck her head in the doorway and reminded me not to worry.

I am thrilled to report that when 9:10am actually rolled around, I was quickly reminded as to why I am a teacher. Because I am awesome at it. My lessons ran smoothly and I had no major problems. I was however, in a state of continuous bewilderment at the 20 little people in front of me.

I taught a simple lesson on 2D shapes - squares, circles and triangles. I asked volunteers to draw one of these shapes on the IWB.

A small boy stood before the imposing whiteboard with his finger poised, ready to draw.

"Miss, I've never drawn a triangle before. I don't know how."

A heartbeat of a silence belied my shock at this confession.

"That's OK darling, that's why you come to school. I'll help you." And so I helped him draw his first ever triangle. Wow.

My sublime reverie at our accomplishments was shattered a few minutes later with a simple sentence that can send a Kindergarten teacher crazy.

"I need to go to the toilet."

My eyes drifted in slow horror to the windows facing the playground. Walls of water were cascading in brutal torrents from not just the sky, but from SIDEWAYS. An impossible moat had formed around the infants stage area and doorway, marooning all inside.

"Can you hold it?"

"NO, I'm sooooooooo busting!" At this, a chorus, twenty strong, erupted in anguished cries. Apparently the whole crotch grabbing class was SOOOOOOO busting. Lunch was still forty five minutes away. I couldn't possibly deny them all for that long.

"Children! Everybody get your raincoats on!"

Except raincoats have buttons. And were inside out from this morning. And were soaking wet. And don't have name tags.  I individually dressed each child in their waterproof armor while the rest ran riot. An exhausting fifteen minutes later, I had twenty raincoat clad bodies in a gaggle.

"What about our shoes?"

Oh God. I'm not even going to go into great detail. This says it all.

• 40 shoes.
• 40 socks.
• 5 year olds do not know the difference between left and right.
• Laces.
• Buckles.
• Shoes do not have name tags either.

FINALLY, we managed to make a mad dash for the toilets, 50 metres away. Once outside, I realised that in the prior chaos, I'd managed to successfully dress twenty children but had failed to grab a single item to protect myself from the downpour.

"I don't need to wee."

"Get. In. There. Now. Push something out... sweetheart."

The children who finished quickly searched for the spot underneath the gutter that produced the heaviest cascade to stand under while the slower ones were hurried along by my shouts of encouragement. Eventually, we barreled back towards the classroom, jumped the moat and skidded to a slippery stop.

The dressing process was repeated in reverse as raincoats, shoes and socks were removed and lumped together in another giant pile.

At last the class was back inside. Just in time to hear the bell for lunch ring.

We were all inside for wet weather anyway, so this divine tidbit of irony wasn't actually that potent.

My first day of teaching Kindergarten was nearing its conclusion - I had only to survive the afternoon session. However, it shouldn't have been my survival that I was concerned about.

At 2:20pm a little boy ran into my arms in fitful sobs while unchecked tears cascaded down his pink face just as strong as the rain had cascaded from the sky.

"What's wrong darling?!" I asked in alarm.

"...I'm...(hic)...so...(hic)...TIRED!!"

And I don't think he could have put it any better.