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(January 30, 2009)
By Cassandra Wiseman
All the little children, they got wings
To fly and do the little things.
To watch Mrs. Weisberg during a normal day in her kindergarten class at Topanga Elementary School, as she moves with unflappable diligence between her 20 students–from a doll’s bed to a costume box to a mini-computer lab–is to bring to mind the multi-tasking abilities of Mary Poppins or Maria Von Trapp or a prettier version of Nanny McPhee. She looks like the gentle composite portrait of everybody’s mother but you expect her to burst into song at any moment or, at the very least, toss out a little magic trick. She has a lovely laugh: clear and unpretentious, without a trace of the wry fatigue that could have surreptitiously crept in while teaching young children for nearly 30 years.
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PHOTOS BY KATIE DALSEMER
Amy Weisberg’s kindergarten class on the new playground outside their room. Back row L-R: Ena Bronstein, McKenna Thompson, Stan Weerman, Heidi Ricketts, Olenka Fedorwycz, Fiona Engstaad, Mia Mahoney, Sophia Stanley, Kiana Bourgeois, James Dean, Emma Powell, Odin Saric, SummerAnne Wadleigh, Joshua Speer, Justin Lapinski, Anna Schow. On the slide: Mikayla Williams and Zelda Adams. |
“Who put the baby in the sink?” Mrs. Amy Weisberg asks a mop-headed suspect in Room K. He is wearing a plastic carpenter apron over his bright green overalls and looks up at her with innocent eyes, “Do babies go in the sink? No, babies go in their beds. We have to make sure to be nice to our babies.”
Her tone is neither angry nor dismissive, but instructive as if she is a nurse helping a father learn how to take care of his newborn. “I choose to be a doctor,” He tells her.
“This is a carpenter apron.”
“I’m a carpenter now.”
“Well, you better go build something.”
“I always thought I would be a teacher. This is my favorite thing to do.” Weisberg said. Her mother, who passed away at the beginning of October, was a middle school teacher. “I grew up knowing that this is what I wanted to do with my life. Teaching children just comes naturally to me. There wasn’t anything else that I wanted to do.”
Six students, all wearing earphones, sit in a tidy row of computers and play learning games–none of which seems to be the same game. Mrs. Weisberg spreads herself gently between them, willing to sit down at a moment’s notice to fix a problem with the ability and speed of an accomplished computer programmer.
Nestled on the rug in the center of the room, five girls are playing with plastic farm animals and chattering softly when the carpenter approaches them. “I’m going to build a new house for your dog, ok?” He asks politely and finds a comfortable place amongst them to start quietly building with blocks.
“I love that I can give my students the tools they will need to flourish socially and academically for the rest of their lives. I can meet with their parents, too, and show them the tools they will need to help their children live productive, happy lives.”
Teacher Amy Weisberg looks over the shoulders of her kindergartners already adept at using the class computers. Front to back: Kiana Bourgeois, Mikayla Williams, Zelda Adams, Joshua Speer, Anna Schow. |
A little tow-head with pigtails, pink sneakers, an aqua-blue tutu and starry tights bursts out of the classroom bathroom, and skips over to Mrs. Weisberg to have her outfit adjusted, which is done with discretion. The child immediately prances off to the costume corner to change into a nurse’s costume. Mrs. Weisberg moves her chair over to a little boy flummoxed by his computer. A telephone seems to be ringing from the ear phones. “James can’t talk right now. He has to put his book away.” Mrs. Weisberg says to the computer and shows James where to click the appropriate icon.
At a round table, on tiny red chairs, an aide is playing a chirpy game of Hi Ho Cherry-o with a little girl with red sparkly shoes. Another aide is sorting through the books in the reading corner.
Raised voices and laughter come from the kitchen corner. “What’s happening over there? It’s so loud.” She inquires, and her voice, though firm, is calm and cheerful. Rising, she goes over to see what is going on and then goes to her desk to ring a bell.
“Everybody, it’s clean-up time.” She says in a sing-song voice.
“Clean-up time, clean-up time, everybody, it’s clean-up time.” The children begin to sing with her in chirpy little voices.
The whole class bursts into activity– quickly and without complaint–costumes and bricks are put away, plastic animals go in containers, games and books are put back on their shelves. Without being asked, the children sit down on the carpet in an orderly semi-circle around her. Weisberg gives a quick look around the classroom. “I see some people didn’t put their books away.” And several of the children rise up to put the books away.
These particular students are in a developmental kindergarten class which Weisberg instituted at Topanga Elementary four years ago, after observing that a lot of her pupils were not quite ready for mainstream kindergarten lessons, prominently because of age and maturity; most of the children in this class are four and five year olds.
California has the second latest cut-off date for kindergarten in the United States. Referring to research from the Gesell Institute of Human Development, Weisberg feels that it is crucial to recognize the difference between a child’s chronological age and his or her developmental stage. “This can be especially true for boys, who may lag up to six months behind girls at that point.”
There are regular kindergarten classes at Topanga Elementary School, which has 93 students enrolled in its kindergarten program, but Mrs. Weisberg is teaching a transitional kindergarten class. Weisberg estimates that most of her students will stay with her in kindergarten the next school year, but some will be prepared to move on to the first grade. By then, many of the children are developmentally ready for the increased academic demands placed on them, and they will have the social and motor skills and the confidence to be successful.
“Let’s stamp our cards with the help of Heidi. If your card is filled, you can go to the treasure chest.”
“I had a good day,” announces a child, rising to get her card stamped. One after the other, quite a few children maintain that they too have had a good day; but a few didn’t. “You remember what you’re going to do next time?” Mrs. Weisberg asks one child who didn’t get his card stamped. “You’re going to keep your hands to yourself, right?” The child nods hopefully.
“The block-helpers were good today. They can go see their bulbs in the window.” Mrs. Weisberg says, and several delighted children go immediately to peer at the paper cups in the window. “Everybody, bring your backpacks back to me–Justin, I need to tie your shoe–now, everyone check to see that you have the book-fair invitation to take home. Let’s be careful we are not shoving our friends.”
Immediately after school dismissal, a handful of little faces press against the classroom windows from the courtyard outside–enraptured at the sight of their bulbs growing. Mrs. Weisberg sits down on a little red chair to speak with two room-mothers. When the mothers leave, the school’s computer expert walks in to work with her on some new programs. Mrs. Weisberg, always gentle and softly-spoken, moves from one moment to another with military precision, in a steady fashion, but with alacrity, grace and good humor.
Mrs. Weisberg grew up in Sherman Oaks, received her Bachelor of Arts from University of California Santa Barbara, and her teaching credentials at California State University Northridge. She has a Masters in Education and Administration from the Grand Canyon University and has been teaching for 29 years. She has three daughters; Kimberly, 24, a University of California Los Angeles graduate, now working for Google in Berkeley, Nicole, who is a sophomore majoring in music at University of California Santa Cruz, and Danielle, a senior at Calabasas who is very active in the performing arts. In fact, all three girls were involved in the theatre. “I support their theatre habit.” Her husband is a musician.
“I was attracted to Topanga Elementary because it was a Charter school, and because its location was so beautiful. I have a great relationship with so many of the families and the children here. So many families have made a commitment to this school.”
During her 15 years of teaching at Topanga Elementary, Weisberg has given the school a great deal of her energy and talent. Apart from having the original idea for the school’s new Garden Villa, she was volunteering there all summer, pushing wheel barrows in preparation for its fall opening. As the health education coordinator, she worked tirelessly with David Korade on the annual Track and Field Day. Apart from many more gifts she has given to the school, including organizing the new kindergarten play area, Weisberg has for many years organized the Jump Rope for Heart on Valentine’s Day, where the students jump rope to earn money for the American Heart Association.
“I have begun to take a backseat a little,” Weisberg said, “It’s important to share the leadership roles and let new people come in with fresh ideas.” From the twinkle in her eyes, it doesn’t seem as if she meant to slow down. She doesn’t give that impression at all.
Publication: Topanga Messenger