Author Archives: Amy Rasmussen

In an AP English Class, Shouldn’t It Be about the Reading?

This is my fifth year to teach AP English Language and Composition. Every year I can pretty much predict during the first grading period which students will pass the AP exam with a qualifying score. See, my campus practices true open enrollment: any student that wants to challenge herself with PreAP or AP classes may. We have no prerequisites. Any student that demonstrates a strong work ethic, attends tutorials, and tries hard can pass my class, but she may not pass the AP exam in the spring– if she is not already a reader.

Photo by Seasonal Wanderer

It’s a lack of reading skills that gets students every time. The multiple choice portion of the test is a killer with four to five passages and usually 55 questions, which must be answered in 1 hour. I can teach test-taking skills that will help my students do better on this part of the exam, but if a teen is not already a reader when he comes to me, I can rarely help him learn the vocabulary and critical reading skills needed to score at least 50% of the questions correctly (the minimum goal for the mc portion of the test). I’m a pretty good teacher, but the AP exam is difficult, and my magic wand only has so much power.

Many of my students do not come from homes with reading role models. Their parents are hard working immigrants who do not have funds to invest in books. Quite simply, most do not identify themselves as readers. Of course, there’s the few. The students who had an older sibling or a teacher or a librarian (or sometimes a parent) push books into eager hands. These are the students I predict will find success on the AP test come May.

For four years I’ve tried to figure this out:  If it’s the readers who can pass the exam, how can I get more students to be readers? It should be simple.

I tried the classic route. It simple didn’t work. I used to assigned six novels, all the best-loved American literature; and just this summer in a brief Facebook exchange, a former student confirmed what I already knew. She said, “I loved the class, but I didn’t read one book.”

She was not the only one, and my feeble attempts year after year to get students to read, and their feeble attempts year after year to pass my assessments, proved that the classic route was not taking my students on the road they needed to go. They still weren’t readers.

I assert that most high school students do not read the assigned texts, especially classic novels that they can read about online–learning just enough to join a class discussion, write an essay, or pass a test. They might learn the gist of the novel, maybe even get the jokes alluded to in pop culture, but they are not reading.

And that is what I want:  I want to foster readers.

Yesterday I sent out a tweet:

I’m spending grant $. Please, what are the hottest reads in your HS English class library? Thanks for sharing titles. #engchat

Many people responded with several titles i didn’t know, and my shopping list got longer. But I also got this response:

XXXXXXXXXXXX 21 Oct (I deleted the name to protect the not so innocent.)

@AmyRass My Juniors are reading: Huck Finn, Moby Dick, Scarlet Letter, The Road, Gatsby, Things They Carried, Other Wes Moore, Catcher

I responded with this:

@xxxxxx Thanks for sharing. Great books. Are they reading those titles as free choice? If so—impressive.

And the answer was this:

@AmyRass They are chosen from a list we gave them. I also am fortunate to teach some very bright students.

Hmmm. I wish I could poll those students. I’d bet my farm, if I had one, that very few are actually reading those books. To roughly quote Don Graves: “Choice without [a kind selection] is no choice at all.”

I do things differently. I’ve abandoned the whole class novel like I allow my students to abandon books, (although I know there are some cases when reading the same text can lead to useful instruction. Don’t hate.) My students read during the first 10 minutes of every class. I talk about books as often as I can. I add new books to my shelves that I know students will read. (I bought three copies of Allegiant this afternoon because I know Ashley, Kathryn, Sierra, Adrian, and Diego are waiting. There will be a clamor in the morning.)

Is it hard to devote 10 minutes of a 50 minute class period to reading? Yeah, at first–when the traditionalists tried to drag me back to the dark side. Then I had my students blog about their reading lives over the last seven weeks. So many of them wrote about how they’ve read more books in seven weeks than they read the whole of their sophomore year. Three, four, five books. Already.

I am glad they are reading YA literature. I know it doesn’t have higher-level vocabulary. I know that it doesn’t have sophisticated syntax. I also know that my students like it; they are reading after all.

This quarter I will push students into harder texts. Just yesterday, I put a stack of memoir, historical fiction, non-fiction, and classics on every table, and I talked books. I challenged students to add to their What To Read Next list, and I gave descriptions of characters and hints at plots. I’d like students to read a sampling of different genres–try a graphic novel or a NY Times Bestseller–because so many teens don’t know what they like–yet.  If they don’t meet the challenge? It’ll be okay, as long as students keep reading.

Today Yulissa asked for Cut. Luis asked for Unwholly. Esmeralda read A Child Called ‘It’ in 24 hours and went straight to A Man Called Dave when she walked in the door. Anthony started reading The Lord of the Flies, and Stephany asked for an award winner, so I gave her a stack of six to sort through–all had Printz or National Award or Pulitzer emblems. Tomorrow will be similar. We’re nine weeks into the year, and reading’s become routine.

I may not be able to give all my students the skills they need to master the AP Lang exam, but I am giving them the time they need to plant the seeds of those skills. They’ll sprout and take root and begin to grow, and maybe, just maybe, my students will have the stamina they need to succeed in college, and, maybe that stamina will help them succeed in life.

That’s more important than an AP exam anyway.

I’d love to know the reading habits of the AP English students on your campus. Are they (fake) reading? or really reading?

Authenticity: Making it Real with Student Blogs

North Star of Texas Writing Project (NSTWP), in which I am a teacher consultant, asserts that authenticity is connecting student learning with significant audiences, tasks, and purposes.

image

Blogging with my students is one way in which I make that connection happen. Writing posts and commenting on the work of our peers has become an integral part of my readers/writers workshop classroom.

photo: Petras Kudaras

During the second week of school, once schedule changes calm down a bit, I introduced the idea of blogging to my students. This year I wrote a post on my class blog and imbedded an article that made them see that blogging can have value to their futures. You can see that here.

I’ve had students use Edublogs as their blog platform in the past, and I know some teachers have their students use Kidblogs. I decided to go with WordPress this year. I thought using the “real world” blog platform would be a good idea. You know, just in case some students loved the idea and kept writing long after they leave my classroom. Finally, eight weeks into the school year, I am glad I went this route, but the set-up, especially with my 9th graders took a lot longer than I’ve had to spend in the past. (Most of my students are not as tech savvy as many technology advocates would like to believe. For more on that read this post:  Digital Novices vs Digital Natives.)

These are some ways I’m transforming my teaching by using student blogs this year (See this SAMR model for ideas on instructional transformation):

Timed Writing. I need students to be able to think quickly about a topic, organize their thoughts, and write effectively in a short period of time. Years ago I had students complete timed writings on paper with a pen, and I’d take the stack of essays home and laboriously grade them. By having students post to blogs, my classroom is getting close to being green. We do very little writing on paper anymore. I can read student posts with the swipe on my finger on my iPad, and I try to leave comments that inspire improvement in their writing. Sometimes I put the score from a rubric. Most times I say something I like about what students have written. They like that kind of feedback best, and it usually prompts some kind of improvement in their next post–something that rarely happened with the marks of my red pen.

For our first timed writing, students wrote about their reading lives. We spend 10 minutes at the beginning of each class period reading our self-selected books. I conference with each student, brief one-on-one chats. I learned more while reading student posts about their reading habits than I did in the prior eight weeks of school. I posted a reflection of my own reading life on my class blog with the actual assignment, and then students wrote on theirs. The response to our wide reading warmed my teacher heart. Read a few of these students’ posts, and you will see why: Helen–A Path Led by Wise Words; Gina–Lay Down the Bridges; Mian–A Passion for Books; Emilio–Reading Life

Our second timed writing, students wrote an argument in response to our in-class study of Ralph Waldo Emerson’s “The American Scholar.” Some student posts were thoughtful and wise; most were ineffective and needed major revisions. All students wrote and showed what they’d learned from their reading and our class discussions.

Persuasive Practice. The AP Lang exam and the 10th grade STAAR test both require students to be effective persuasive writers. I like this blogger’s post:  Blogging is the New Persuasive Essay. As I teach my students how to use persuasive techniques, I also want them learning about their world. They have to know “stuff” to build their credibility after all. So every Monday my students write a post that they base upon something they read in the news. They scan headlines until they find a topic that interests them. Then they pull an idea from the article, and then they write an argument based on that idea. So far, we haven’t delved too deeply in the art of persuasion; we’ve talked mostly about form and structure and a few rhetorical devices, but some of my students have taken ownership of this weekly recurring assignment. Here’s a few to give you an idea:  Kathryn–Words Hurt; Ashley–Recycled Look or Recycled Lives; Jason–Smoking is Safer? Impossible; Adrian–Chemical Mistakes

Published Polished Pieces. As we move through different genres of writing, I need my students to fully immerse themselves in the process of creating effective and moving texts. We started the year with a focus on narrative. I know, it’s not on the AP exam or the STAAR test anymore. But story is so important. It’s what connects us as humans, and it’s story that has helped create a classroom community where students are not afraid to take risks and throw their hearts out on the page. While a few student narratives are not as polished as I would have liked prior to publication (grades being due always seems to interfere with authenticity), if you read just these three, you’ll see why story is important. I can be a better teacher to these PreAP students because of what I know from these posts. Esmeralda–Memories; Mercedes–What Do You Think About Moving? Bryanna–Why Batman?

I remember learning from Kelly Gallagher that students should write more than I can ever grade. Well, of all things in my teaching life, I’ve finally figured that one out the best. I cannot read every post my students write, but I can read a lot, and I can give a lot of feedback in a way that is meaningful so that students respond. We just started reading and leaving feedback for one another. I can already tell that this will be more valuable than just me giving feedback. After we spent two class days reading one another’s narrative posts, I had students tell me on their own narrative evaluations:  “I knew I could do better after I read other people’s.” For an example of our student feedback, read the comments on this one: Amy–Forever a Bye. The instruction I gave students was 1) Be polite but honest, 2) Bless something you think the writer did well, 3) Press a moment that needs more detail or description, 3) Address an issue of concern in regard to style, grammar, etc. For our first time, I’m proud of these students for the feedback they gave their friend.

Engaging student writers is often more than half the battle. So many times they have the attitutde “What’s in it for me?” By allowing students to choose their topics, and allowing them to express their true and authentic voices, I get better participation, and I get better writing, and I get to know the hearts and minds of my students.

That is all I ever really want.

photo: Dee Bamford

#NCTE13  Writing Teachers (Re)Inventing Literacy Instruction by Following the North Star

Reel Reading for Real Readers: The Lowland by Jhumpa Lahiri

20130207-190708I’m starting an Award-Winning Books Only shelf. (Okay, maybe award winning authors, too.)

Since I am teaching only advanced classes, and since I am allowing students choice in pretty much anything of length they read, I want to be able to challenge students to take a step up the ladder to more complex texts than the YA literature they so readily pick up. Not than any student, advanced or otherwise, shouldn’t be challenged; not that YA is not great reading for all students. But, you know, I am supposed to provide the rigor for an AP class as required by the College Board.

I want Pulitzer Prize Winners and National Book Award Finalists and Man Book Prize Winners.

I want students to take on the challenge and the feeling of accomplishment of reading a Prize Winner.

My list of award winners is long, and it will take me even longer to purchase all the books I want. But I’ve started, and The Lowland by Jhumpa Lahiri, a Pulitzer Prize Winning author, is the fifth on my shelf.

See the author talk about this Man Booker shortlisted title here: 

Reel Reading for Real Readers: Fahrenheit 451

ReelReading2Today a student asked me, “What would you do if there were no books?”

I responded, “You mean if someone burned them?”

Another student chimed in, “You mean like in Fahrenheit 451?”

“Exactly,” I said, turning to the first student, “Do you know that book?”

“No, I was just wondering.”

“In the book Fahrenheit 451, the firemen burn books. Sound interesting?”

And then that little sparkle in the eye that says yes louder than any words could.

Much to my surprise while scrolling through my Twitter feed this afternoon, I saw this headline from Glen Beck’s show:  A warning to the world’: Glen shares an excerpt from Fahrenheit 451. Of course, I stopped, and clicked the link.

Check this out–it doesn’t matter if you are a Glen Beck fan, it’s a great way to introduce students to this great little classic. I think our students will “get” it.

‘A Warning to the World’

Could We Just Get Students to Read and Write in All Content Areas?

So one of the problems on my campus is the fact that students don’t read. Oh, I know some do, but by and large, the majority of our students are not readers. As a school we are struggling with this new problem of practice, trying to define “complex language.” We’ve spent hours with this already, and have yet to come to a consensus. In frustration last week, after discussing this for two and a half hours, my colleague wrote on the bottom of our PD group’s thinking sheet:  “Could we just get students to read and write in all content areas?”

Really. It could be that simple.

A few years ago, our campus began whole-school reading. Built into our daily schedule is a 30 minute Advisory time, where a good number of minutes could be used for independent reading– if only teachers would enforce it. Most students like to read when they are given their choice of the right books. But if teachers are not reader themselves, it’s no wonder they don’t care if their students read.

Mine do, but that’s not surprising. The students in my English classes read for 10 minutes at the beginning of every class. So, if their advisory teachers are mandating reading, my students should be reading at least 25 minutes during every school day. That’s not a lot, but it is something.

Of course, independent reading will not solve all our problems. Students need to think deeply about texts, not just increase their fluency, and non-readers will abandon a book rather than struggle through it. That’s why if we really want to get our students to develop complex language skills, we must get them to practice complex reading. This is the kind of reading teachers must do with their students. You know, modeling close reading, modeling thinking about a text? And I think English teachers who know how to do this need to be given the opportunity to teach math and science and choir and business teachers how to read closely with all students.

We can talk about complex language all day as a staff. We can define it and put the definition on the walls of our classrooms, but that won’t do a thing until all teachers in all content areas start reading complex texts with their students. (And maybe it’s too much to ask, but imagine the growth if every student wrote in every class every day, too.) Hey, friends in other content areas, I’m glad to show you how.

 

Does your school have a wide reading program or other reading initiatives that include reading and writing in all content areas?

 

Valuing Teachers’ Time

I spent six hours at an AP English conference last Friday. Six long hours. We scored essays: rhetorical analysis. For six hours. It’s not that I don’t like scoring essays. I do. I love it (well, kind of), especially when the essays belong to my own students,  and especially when my students show me evidence of some skill we’ve focused on in class. These essays did neither. They were random essays pulled by the College Board to serve as the sample anchor essays. I get that AP English teachers need to learn how to score essays. I get that the anchors are a good starting place. I didn’t get why the conference sponsors didn’t gauge the room: First time AP teachers here? What about experienced over here?

I fear I rant. But here’s the thing:  so much time is wasted when those in charge don’t consider their audience.

Like at the beginning of last week for campus PD. We learned about Accountable Talk–something the campus has focused on explicitly for the past three years. Admin might have polled the room, asking questions about our levels of comfort with the talk moves, instead of continuing with a presentation that only a few new teachers in the room had never heard. No wonder there is grumbling.

I keep hearing about valuing teachers. But I rarely hear about valuing teachers’ time.

I was out of my classroom three days last week. Fortunately, I have a competent sub who will deliver the lessons and hold my students accountable. But still, I haven’t been there. I’ve given an AP mock exam; I’ve scored 120 essays; I’ve attended a conference where I grabbed and clung to just one good idea. i have 40 AP English students who will benefit from my last three days. I have 105 other students, freshmen and sophomores, who will not. So, I wonder has my time been well spent?

And I’ll think about this when I present to teachers. I’ll think about this when I commit to attend trainings.

I know the best use of my time is in my classroom with my students.

 

Reel Reading for Real Readers: Alice Bliss

Alice Bliss coverI asked my colleague if she’d read anything good lately, and she recommended Alice Bliss by Laura Harrington. “You know me, I rarely show emotion, but this one…maybe I liked it so much because of the close relationship I have with my dad. It got to me.”

I liked this book, too, but for different reasons. My son wants to join the Army. I couldn’t help but get emotional. If you’ve read the book, you know why.

I don’t know if many of my students will relate to Alice Bliss. I don’t know if they have the kind of relationships with their dads that Alice has with hers, but I know they probably want one. And it’s not too late it their lives to try and make it happen.

You know, my dad used to garden–a big deal in the hot Texas sun, but I rarely spent time with him out digging around in his grow boxes. I was impatient, and he didn’t say much. He also worked on cars in our garage and built fly rods in his workshop. I had no interest, and he didn’t push. Now, I wonder at the missed opportunities, and I’m sad that it’s too late.

I will share this sweet book with my students and remind them that it is not too late for them.

For an idea of the beauty in this book, check out this beautiful collection of images on Laura Harrington’s Pinterest board. Showing students the images might be enough to spark some interest, along with a passage or two that shows Alice’s voice.

Oh, and this Pinterest board idea– imagine if students create one for their favorite book? That might be a nice way for them to show me they understand imagery, allusion, symbolism. Hmm. Now, I got myself thinking. What do you think?

My Workshop is Kind of Like Goldilocks and the Three Bears

ocsWhen I first got my teaching assignment for this year, I was a little overwhelmed, although I probably shouldn’t have been:  I chose to have three preps. Yes, I chose three preps. Crazy, right?

I’ve never had the exact same assignment two years in a row, which definitely has its pros and cons. (I was recently diagnosed with ADHD–at 48–I know, right?–so the changes have worked pretty well for me.) I don’t mind the planning. I don’t mind the difference in student maturity. I do mind not feeling like I’ve ever done anything really really well.

It’s not like you can get everything perfect in every lesson in every class throughout a whole year. So I keep notes of what worked and what didn’t, and I make plans to bend and stretch, tweak and toss things the following year. I am rarely satisfied and always looking for improvement  I’ve just never had the chance to practice my new and improved plans.

Until now.

But it’s not what you are thinking.

It’s a bit daring, and I appreciate my administrators for trusting that it will work, but I am teaching all three of my preps the same lessons in the same way–almost every day. My Pre-AP English I class gets the same instruction and the same assignments as my Pre-AP English 2 classes and my AP Language and Comp classes. See, I have my own built in vertical alignment, and I can teach the same skills–sometimes a little slower, and usually with a different expected outcome–to all of my students at all three levels.

“What about the differences in the standards?” you might say.

Well, look at them. They really aren’t that different. The real differences are in the depth and the complexity of how our students show us mastery of a skill. Reading and writing is still reading and writing at any level, advanced or otherwise.

Mine is a readers/writers workshop, and students lead with choice. They choose what they want to read, and they choose what they want to write about in their assignments. I facilitate discussions around mentor texts, and they model the professionals in their writing. I talk about books that beg to be read, and they open the pages and read them.

Take for example their first major writing assignment. We’ve been studying narrative. (Please do not say, “But there is no longer a literary essay on the STAAR test.” Yes, I know.) Think about the power of story. It’s the thread that wraps us all together, the binding that prevents our civility from turning to chaos. And, oh, the relationship builder our stories become as we share our souls in our learning community! We learn to relate and empathize with people who might be vastly different than we are. We grow as individuals and as peers. Not to mention the feelings of accomplishment students have when they produce a piece from the heart and are successful at it at the beginning of the year. Every literary device we want students to know, understand, and use can be modeled in narrative mentors. Every literary device we want students to be able to produce and analyze for AP English exams can be taught in a narrative unit. Why would we jump right into rhetorical or literary analysis, when we can get so much growth from passionate personal essays?

I know it’s early in the year, and I haven’t been trying this approach out for too long. I get that my high hopes might deflate and plop right on my desktop. But right now, my students are engaged. They are reaching to meet my expectations. They are thinking. And that’s what I really want.

If I can get my students to think–well, that is my personal definition of rigor. And isn’t that what an advanced class is supposed to be?

So about practicing and improving my plans? This year I get to do that every single day while the learning is happening instead of my reflection afterward. It’s kind of like Goldilocks and the Three Bears, except better. My students get to taste a rich and authentic approach to learning, and I get to differentiate depending on their individual needs: too hot or too cold until I get it just right.

Websofsubstance.com by Harry Webb

I spoke to a good friend this morning. She, too, has three preps, and she’s trying to streamline. She and I share the same perfectionist tendencies, and planning and planning and planning to come up with the “just right” instruction for all three levels is exhausting. There has to be a better way.

I’m pretty sure I’ve found it.

What do you think of using the readers/writers workshop model to teach all levels the same skills in the same way at pretty much the same pace?

Reel Reading for Real Readers: Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell

20130207-190708If we invite author’s into our classrooms, they can become personal coaches for our students. I will introduce the book Outliers to my students with this CNN interview between Anderson Cooper and Malcolm Gladwell.

First of all, Gladwell’s an interesting looking character that’s for sure, and really, who wouldn’t want to read a book by a guy who is so interesting AND articulate?

Converting the Fake Reader

I’m trying something new this year:  my students are reading every day. Last year I reserved Friday for independent reading. Students did okay with that, but few read as much as I had hoped they would. This year I dedicate the first 10 minutes of every class to silent reading. We’ve been in school a month, and I have many students who have finished a book–some have finished three and four.

The first week of school I set the expectation, and I talked about books a lot. Every day I introduced a book and its characters to my students. I read passages and book covers. I testified to the importance of a book in my life. I read reviews and showed book trailers. I worked at getting a book in every single student’s hand. And it’s paying off.

Even for Ever.

Ever is that one student. You know the one. He grabs the first book off the shelf and pretends to read it. He does this every day for a week. You know he’s a Fake Reader. You’re just waiting for the right time to talk with him about it. Then one day he leaves The Invisible Man by H. G. Wells in the classroom–you know he’s not reading this book anyway. What normal sophomore would? So you hide it just to see what book he’ll choose to Fake Read next. He doesn’t. He sits. And does nothing.

Finally, you make your way to talk with Ever. “What’s up with this Fake Reading?” you ask.

He mumbles something that you don’t understand.

“If you tell me what you’re interested in, I can help you find a book,” you offer.

He shrugs but walks to the bookshelves, soon returning to his seat with a bright non-fiction paperback. You don’t see the title, but you watch to see if Ever’s reading.

Nope. He’s an Advanced Fake Reader.

Then he surprises you. He asks for help finding something real and historical, so you offer a stack of memoirs with authors from Cambodia, Iran, and South Africa. He doesn’t even bother to pick them up, but he’s drawn to the shelf they came from. You can see it in his eyes.

You’re pushing but not too hard. You barely know this child, and you know the first three weeks can make or break the relationship with a student for the whole year. Then you see him. He’s got a thin book–historical fiction. And he’s reading. He’s really reading Once by Morris Gleitzman.

The next day Ever is one of the first students in class. You glance over, and Ever is reading, and the bell hasn’t even sounded yet. You walk over to offer a bit of praise.

“Hey, Miss, I’ve read 120 pages since yesterday!” he tells you. And inside you’re grinning so widely your cheeks hurt.

Ever finishes that book the next day and reaches for Then.

Then You know you’ve got him when he turns the pages in Now.

And maybe, just maybe you’ve converted the Fake Reader.

 

How do you get your Fake Readers to give a book a try?