Category Archives: Pedagogy

What’d You Say?

ocsAs the year is rolling (rapidly) to an end, I have taken time to reflect and really analyze how this year’s movement and progress has been different then years past.   Besides following the footsteps of the amazing Penny Kittle; borrowing sky writing from the vivacious Shana Karnes; bouncing ideas off of the astounding Amy Rasmussen; and being inspired by the wall-to-wall library of the ever-evolving Emily Kim…I realized that this year, I am talking differently.

In posts pasts, I’ve mentioned a full on effort of instilling calm in my teaching, but most importantly within myself.  I’ve talked about strategies and tactics to support our lovely readers and writers.  I’ve discussed the power of revision.   I’ve done a lot of talking.  Yet, I haven’t reflected as much on how I’m talking.  And, just the other day, as I was standing in the middle of my classroom admiring the soft buzz surrounding me, I realized what was happening.   Students no longer depend on me.  They are depending on themselves and their peers.  They are listening intently, supporting one another, and using language that I (at that moment) realized reflected what I’ve been saying all year.

I’ve always made a conscious effort to refer to the individuals I educate as students or young adults; both in speaking with them and with others about them.  Kids?  Children?  Never.  To me it’s important to afford them that respect.  Yes, they are and always will be their parents’ and guardians’ children, but to me, they are the evolving, growing, and inspiring young adults who show up (as often as they can) serious about their education.

Interestingly, this year one student decided that he is no longer a student, but a scholar.  Well, aren’t I the lucky educator exploring and learning among scholars?  Yes, this is now the norm.  They are sitting up straighter, not because I am that educator who demands upright students, but more simply because they are feeling important as they use this term to describe one another.  They own their importance.  And how beautiful and distinguished they look doing so.

Now that I’m among scholarly greatness, when it comes to literature, “What book are you reading?” has pretty much become extinct in our learning community.  We talk about books as pieces or literature.  It’s amazing how synonyms prompt different levels of affluence.  There’s an air of ownership and pride when students are discussing literature.  Whether it be a review of E.B. White’s Charlotte’s Web, the graphic novel of Anne Frank, Hill Harper’s Letters to an Incarcerated Brother, Chris Cleave’s Little Bee, Alex Haley’s Autobiography of Malcolm X, John Steinback’s Of Mice and Men, Dr. John Gray’s Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus, and so many others…students are examining them with wonder, inquisition, and esteem.

Chris Cleave in the hands of a scholar.

Chris Cleave in the hands of a scholar.

While reading these pieces, we are no longer just looking up words in the dictionary.  We are researching.  We are finding what we need in order to fully understand what is before us.  We are using our resources to enhance that understanding.  We are not only completely comfortable with the extra step of flipping through Webster to explore our options, but we are embracing it because it’s now just part of who we are as learners.  Yes, we are researchers.

Multitasking: writing and research.

Multitasking: Writing and Researching

And, we are not flawless.  We find definitions that don’t always make sense.  So, we find partners who can help us grasp the concept of this idea in the context of our individual reading.  We are active.  We support each other.  Students and I have made a pact; when they do not know a word they take to research.  However, when they do not know how to pronounce that word, I become their resource.  See, there’s a huge difference between the two.  Students are no longer relying on me for a definition, just the initial step of knowing what the word sounds like so they can productively use it on their own, and in context, once they are comfortable with its meaning.

 

Collaborating on a project.

Collaboration

Above and beyond all of the communal support we provide for each other, there are those times that we are just plain “stuck”.  When students approach me with this, I no longer ask, “Why?”  Instead, I ask, “What is the reason?”  or “Let’s identify what’s happening here.”  Even in those moments when we’re not sure we even know why we are stuck, I’m asking students to own, articulate, and start problem solving their moment of frustration to alleviate the feeling of intensity.  Once I started probing, students realize there’s a reason they are at a standstill.  As we move through the recognition and pinpoint the issue, we are off and running (again).

Hearing students playing with language, context, and dialogue is magical.  A lot has shifted this year.  Students are continually showing me what they need from me to support them in their growth.  Whether it’s asking a scholar what piece of literature he will be embarking on next or setting dictionaries on every group of desks for easy access to research; students are asking me to support them in their launch.  As we continue to progress together, I am looking forward to recognizing what else needs to be said differently because, wow, what a difference a word makes!

What language do you use that propels your students?  What shifts have you made to support higher levels of learning and engagement?  

Authentic Work

Last week I had the privilege of visiting several elementary school campuses around my area. It is always neat to go and see what other schools and other districts are doing. This time, all of the campuses I visited were elementary schools, and there is no question that elementary schools love to show student work. One thing that struck me as interesting was the types of work that I saw displayed. Take a look at these two images:

EXHIBIT A

photo 1EXHIBIT Bphoto 2

 

 

What do you notice about the two displays of student work? Any similarities? any differences?

The biggest thing that stuck out to me was that in Exhibit A, all of the student work looked exactly the same. I know you can’t read the text under each elephant, but it too was essentially the same on every page. I will disclose that Exhibit A was done by kindergarteners and Exhibit B was done by second graders, but still. Are you honestly telling me that kindergarteners, if given the opportunity, wouldn’t have come up with a more creative way to demonstrate their understanding about elephants?

Another question I had was what do the state standards say about elephants specifically? Does everyone have to learn about elephants? (The answer to that is NO!) What if a student wanted to learn about monkeys instead? Clearly, in this scenario, students were not given the choice in deciding what they would study.

Now, look at Exhibit B. If you can’t tell, the students are learning about perimeter and area. Some of the students chose to demonstrate their understanding of perimeter and area by marking off their foot print while others wrote out their names in block letters and then calculated the perimeter and area of their names. In this case, students had choice about how they would demonstrate mastery of the skill being taught.

Think about it this way, if the work in the pictures above were a depiction of work in say a high school English classroom, I would equate Exhibit A to the whole class novel where everyone has to read the same book and write the same essay over the same prompt. Whereas, Exhibit B would be reflective of the work that my co-blogger and friend Amy has been writing about in her posts lately as she has empowered her students to read whatever books they want. Amy hasn’t given up the content and the standards she has to teach. She has just allowed the students choice in what they read and how they show their understanding of that content and the skills they have learned.

What about in your own classroom? Is there anything that you ask students to do that looks more like Exhibit A than Exhibit B? How might you change or modify the assignments to allow students a choice on how they want to demonstrate understanding of a particular topic?

Final Days, Final Products: End-of-Year Assessments

This week, the first of the fourth quarter, has flown by for me–has it for you all?  Perhaps I’m feeling the passage of time because of making end-of-year lesson plans.  Maybe it’s because of the spring sunshine and storms.  Or, it could be because I’m looking into summer course offerings at UNH, the NWP, and our nearest university, WVU.  Whatever the case may be, I am acutely aware that I don’t have much time left with my fabulous students this school year.

Since that is the case, I want to give them opportunities to showcase what they have learned and how they have grown.  Of course, I want a unique, rigorous way for them to show me this, so I’ve been designing some workshop-appropriate final assessments for my students.  The abilities I am curious about are their independent reading, their informal writing, their reading of difficult literature critically and deeply, and their crafting of excellent, time-intensive writing.

My goal at the end of the year is that students can read a variety of texts independently, can think and speak critically about those texts, and can choose and recommend a variety of books for themselves and others.  To see whether they can do this, students will complete an independent reading project that includes a craft analysis of the writing itself, a creative portion in which students show their comprehension of deep layers of the text, and a presentation of the project overall in which other students and I ask questions about the book.  Additionally, students will do their own booktalks, in which they recommend a text to the class, perform a fluent read of a short bit of the book, and discuss their own reading experience with it.

IMG_2769In terms of quickwrites, or the informal, fluency-building writing we do at the beginning of every class, I want students to be able to understand and show their own growth with this type of writing over the course of the year.  I do this by having them do a final “Journal Harvest,” an excellent idea I got from NWP mentor Sally Lundgren, which we’ve also done once or twice a quarter thus far.  In this harvest, they read over all of their writing from the year and write a formal reflection about its growth, content, and style.  Additionally, they choose three pieces to revise and draft into formal, typed pieces.  Lastly, they share their notebooks, reflections, and revised final pieces with their writing groups in order to give and get feedback.

mikeyburton-bookcoversWe’ve read two class novels so far this year, and for the final part of the year, students have chosen from a variety of books to read in literature circles.  Being American Literature, I booktalked the standards Fahrenheit 451, Huck Finn, The Scarlet Letter, and A Separate Peace.  Students chose which of those they wanted to read and have been collaboratively discussing, interpreting, and completing tasks related to their reading in groups.  To share their understanding with the class and me, they will complete creative projects in groups, as well as write a formal book review they’ll publish on the wonderful GoodReads.

IMG_0799Finally, the Multigenre Project will show off my students’ abilities to write, revise, and refine formal, coherent writing.  I have already discussed the way I teach the MGP extensively elsewhere, so I’ll be brief here.  The MGP allows for student choice, curiosity- and question-driven research, frequent talk in writing groups and through final presentations, and rigor.  To my mind, it’s a perfect culmination to a year of workshop, and I can’t wait to see what my students produce with it.

In true teacher-participant form, I will be doing all of this beside my students, and I am quite looking forward to the reflection time this quarter’s modeling will allow.  I’ve already begun the process we all go through at the end of the year, in which we start to wonder what we’ll change in the future and what worked wonderfully that we’ll hang onto.  In reflecting, I find my thoughts and writing returning again and again to the power of talk.  Its deliberate addition into my curriculum this year has been the biggest change from previous years, in which student talk used to be in a space reserved for group work, presentations, etc.  This year, though, student talk is at the center of my teaching, and I think it’s made an incredible difference in my students’ ability and willingness to learn.  I’ve consciously included it in all of my final assessments as a result, as it’s been where I’ve learned the most from my students.

As you can see, there is a lot of grading, planning, and facilitating in my future, but I think it will be well worth the effort…and enjoyable to boot!  Here’s hoping that my students will learn as much from each other in these final weeks as I’ve learned from them all year.  Cheers to the fourth quarter, all!

 

It’s Moments Like These

Our Compass Shifts 2-1

My hope for all educators is that we never, ever lose a student. And while that is my hope, life has it that sometimes a student’s passing becomes a reality. In 2010, that’s exactly what happened. Francis Gittens departed our school community leaving behind his energy, electric personality, and smile that only those lucky enough to have had the opportunity to know (and work with) him experienced.

A long time colleague and friend asked me, “Erika, how are you going to continue Francis’s legacy?” At the time, I was overcome with grief and emotion and couldn’t possibly consider this very tall task. However, as I started to work with my new over-aged and under-credited student population, their thirst and desire to obtain information in order to quench their ongoing curiosities provided me the answer.

A library.

Not just any old library, but the Francis Gittens Lending Library. A library filled with rich pieces that have impacted other book lovers from all over the country. I’m talking all genres. I’m talking too many books for the amount of shelving we currently had. I’m talking opportunity.

Out went the email chronicling my mission. The recruiting had begun to wrap the two-hundred plus books that continued to be delivered and dropped off at my classroom door. Ms. Vasquez (Francis’s mother) had agreed to be present for the post-holiday surprise. Food had been ordered. Students had no idea how their lives were about to change. Full of emotion; I was ready.

What has happened in the two and a half years since must still be a figment of my imagination. Students are reading feigns who request piece after piece. Students and their families are continually donating to our class library. Not to mention all of the other generous donors who continue to surprise us with their favorites.  Students have created Next-To-Read Lists because they can’t possibly read all the pieces they are intrigued by simultaneously, although many of them are juggling a couple at a time. Educators swing by to see what’s new on the shelves for their own reading enjoyment. And I have become quite the book connoisseur while perusing book store after book store seeking out unique pieces to book talk the very next day.

Just recently, after I reorganized our theme-based library, I sat back and found myself in awe. The growth of the library, now two-thousand plus books, stopped me in my tracks. I realized that as a collective, we have figured out a way to support our (sometimes struggling) readers and found a way for them to have all the access they want (and need) to the world beyond their own. Astounding.

I immediately phoned Ms. Vasquez inclined to show her what’s been taking shape in room 382. To no surprise her response was, “What day works best?” We both felt the urgency. She found her way to Brooklyn Bridge Academy without hesitation that very next Monday. As she entered the room, student conversations quieted and a hush fell over our shared space humbling us all.

As we all regained composure, conversations started to bubble and students were excited to share the literature they are (and have been) reading. Ms. Vasquez took her time scaling the length of the library and, overcome with emotion, she cried.

Ms. Vasquez pointing out an inscription to Francis from his Grammy in Sidney Poitier's Measure of a Man.

Ms. Vasquez pointing out an inscription to Francis from his Grammy in Sidney Poitier’s Measure of a Man.

She took the opportunity to talk to students about their lives and the decisions they are making. As we sometimes say, “She went there.” She focused on the young men, their appearance, and the injustices they are ultimately always going to face. She spoke directly to the females and advised them in believing in themselves, taking care of their bodies, and their intelligence. She focused on the vast literature lining the shelves and how this (education) is their key to the lives they deserve to live.

Tender moment with a male student.

A tender moment with a male student.

As educators, it’s these ‘full circle’ moments that make us truly feel full with love, hope, motivation, and connection. Students are reading more now than ever before.

Our read literature this year.  180 plus books!  Beautiful collection from the FGLL.

Our read literature this year. 180 plus books! Beautiful collection from the FGLL.

A proud student adding Quiet by Susan Cain to the other side of the door.

A proud student adding Quiet by Susan Cain to the other side of the door.

They are embracing their inquiries and willing to do the work to find answers. They are supporting me in my own reading journey and I them. We are collectively always looking for pieces of literature to add to our library and relishing in the ones that we can’t believe we actually found.

Each donated book receives a FGLL Placard (Donors, location, date)

Each donated book receives a FGLL Placard (Donors, location, date)

We have shared humorous moments. Tears have been shed. In-depth thinking has…and continues to take place.

From an incredibly tragic loss to a beauty hard to put into words, we are all so very thankful. But most of all, humanity came together for those sixty minutes on a random day in March that none of us will ever forget. We are in this together, as a whole, as one.

Our 'serious' class photo.  (My favorite!)

Our ‘serious’ class photo. (My favorite!)

How will you continue to build and support literacy initiatives in your classroom?

Tu Eres Mi Otro Yo

ocs While recently in the throws of February break rejuvenating away from the hubbub of the city in the quaint beach town of Montauk; Malcolm X and I were becoming intimate acquaintances.  We had been for quite some time, actually.  But it was here that I really started questioning him, his motives, and his overall sense of dedication to any cause he finds justified.  As I was making direct connections to my own beliefs and passions, my pen went haywire.  There was, by no means, enough blank space on the pages of this autobiography for my own thinking.  Out came the post-its.  The power button on the iPad came alive and my inquisition and deep thought went ablaze.  While X and I could not be more different human beings the ideal of commonality among passion elated me.

Later that very same day, I was introduced to Dr. Jeff Duncan-Andrade’s invigorating message that immediately added even more fuel to my already-burning fire.  From the moment I pressed play (thank you, Apple TV) I was captivated.  Jeff is an outstanding educator who believes there are three kinds of hope: material, critical and audacious.  He believes that our [urban] students are roses growing in concrete.  I mean, the city has always been referred to as the concrete jungle!  In order to really grasp the intensity and genuine love Jeff exudes with his message, you’ll have to watch for yourself.

There I was, hours away from the city and my students, yet never have I felt so connected.  X’s passion exudes from his autobiography; Jeff’s passion seeps through his pores as his care is so loudly presented; and my passion was turning up the waves in the ocean right outside my window.

On my drive back to work that first Monday morning after break, I made a promise to myself.  I promised to stay true to my passion and invite the new found passions I discovered to reside within me as well.  My focus was by no means on the road, it was zoomed in on Jeff’s mantra: Tu eres mi otro yo! (You are the other me!)  How could it not be?  How could I not be heading back to room 382 thinking, “Students, you are my reflection…you are what I see when I look in the mirror.  We are one.”?

As I headed into our building, my mind automatically trained itself on a female student that I have been working with for six months, but have yet to authentically connect with.  Today was the day that was going to happen.  The day had not begun, but I was sure of it.  I was sure of it because I was going to channel all of the passion, intensity, and love I gathered over the break and pour it all over this student.  I only hoped she wouldn’t mind!

As independent reading commenced I asked this student to join me with her new book, highlighter and pen.  It was a piece well below her reading level (as is typical of her reading selections), but the premise captured her attention immediately: females making decisions based on their desperate need for belonging among other female peers.  There’s no wonder.

X followed me to class that day, in many regards.  As I put my chosen piece of literature on the table, a ‘huh’ surfaced from this female student.  I opened to the chapter titled Icarus.  IcarusI asked her if she knew what the title meant and the following is the dialogue that surfaced:

B: Nope.

Ms. B.: Neither did I.  I decided I wasn’t going to go any further into this chapter until I understood what this name resembled.

B:  Huh.

Ms. B.: So, I took to the internet and realized Icarus is the name of a Greek mythical figure whose father warned him of not flying too close to the sun with the wax wings in which he created for him.  But, he did.  And he fell straight out of the sky.  Can you imagine?

B: Wow.  Huh.  That’s interesting.

Ms. B.: Isn’t it?  Then, check this out…(I flipped to the last page of the chapter.)  Read this last sentence.  (B does.) Do you see it?

B:  Whoa.  It connects to the title.  It explains what you just did.  (Smile)

And it was at this moment, that the gathered passion, intensity and love I poured all over this student started to work its magic.  Because here’s what happened next:

B: Ms. Bogdany, how do you know what to highlight though?  I never know what to say — I mean annotate.

This may seem like a simple (and potentially expected response) but after working with this student since September, this was the very first time she was confident enough to be vocal with her inquiry.  From there we opened her book (with much fervor) and highlighted a portion that she noted.  I asked her what it meant, and she started to explain it…and, in her book, I wrote down her thoughts.  I then asked her about her own ideas regarding this concept, and (with the longest response to date) she explained her insights about the decisions the main character is making.  So, again…I scribed.  We discussed.  I annotated.  She smiled.

Ms. B.: Do you see it now?

B: Hahah.  I do.  It…it makes you understand more.  Thank you.

Before she left to resume this process solo, I pointed her in the direction of another female student who had just started reading:                                                                          Odd Girl Out

I explained the premise of this piece.  She raised an eyebrow.  I mentioned that when the other student was done, she may want to engage with it as it’s the same concept that envelopes her piece, yet it’s an informational, non-fiction piece.  This piece is more level appropriate for her.  Same concept, different genre, enhanced level.  We’ll see.

In the meantime, I noticed during the rest of our two hours together that day, B’s book kept finding it’s way back onto her desk; her highlighter was incredibly busy; and her pen was relaying her inner voice on those very pages that previously would have remained untouched.  And instead of refocusing her on the day’s lesson and activity; I whispered internally, “Tu eres mi otro yo.”

Making Workshop Work in my AP English Class

Our Compass Shifts 2-1It wasn’t as bad as I thought.

For those of you who read my post on Thursday where I bemoaned the weak essays my students produced on their most recent mock exam, you know what IT is. My students’ lack of application–the skills I’ve taught merged with their own deep thinking.

All in all, scores, compared to those in the fall, showed improvement, especially in multiple choice. I must celebrate that.

I know that year after year it’s the students who are readers who score well on the exam. The best readers are also the best writers. That’s not surprising.

What is surprising is the arrogance of many of my students, or maybe it’s not as much arrogance as naïveté. They think they know more than they do. They think their skills are sharper than they are.

I know this because they told me.

Friday morning, I began class with the opportunity for students to reflect on their performance on the mock exam. I put a large sheet of paper on each table and asked students to have a silent conversation with their table mates.

“Write what you feel you did well? And then respond to the writing of your peers.” I gave them about two minutes and then moved the papers among the tables and had students read and think and respond again.

Then I had them turn the papers over and write again. This time: “Write what you think you need to improve on. Remember to think about all the different parts of the exam.”

This is where I learned the most about my students. They wrote things like:

  • I need to manage my time better.
  • I need help with the synthesis question (or rhetorical analysis or persuasive).
  • I need help understanding the multiple choice questions.
  • I need help organizing my essays.

And on and on and on. They all know they need help with something. This is good.

But when I asked:  “Did any of you write ‘I need to become a better reader?'”

Silence. In both class periods. Not one of my 49 AP students thought to write “I need to be a better critical reader.”

Therein lies the problem.

Students misread the prompts, and on the synthesis, the sources, as often as they lacked organization in their essays. A lot.

The AP Language and Composition exam is as much a reading test as it is a writing one. I imagine the other AP exams are as much about reading as their contents, too. Students must be critical readers to do well.

So, how does this matter when it comes to my instruction?

Simple. If I want my students to keep improving,  I need to not only continue to get them to read MORE, I must keep teaching them how to read BETTER.

We’ll study short passages, looking for connotative meanings and nuances. We’ll discuss the function of this and the organization of that. We’ll slow down and discuss more.

I heard Kylene Beers say once, “The smartest person in the room is The Room.” I know I need to allow more time for class discussions where students can learn from one another.

I know I need to more effectively model how to think as we read. I learned from Cris Tovani to teach kids to keep the little man in their heads focused on the reading at hand. Too often students do not know that they have to train the little man before he will stay focused.

Tomorrow, we get out the training net.

Tomorrow, I change the balance up a bit. I revise my instruction yet again.

The constant reflection, the feedback, the changes — all parts that make readers/writers workshop in an AP class, or any other, work.

Reflections of a No Good Very Bad Day

The scores kept getting worse. With every essay, hope died. A slow and agonizingly painful death. How could my students have done so poorly on this mock exam? We just reviewed the day before: Remember to do this and this and this. Remember to read and think and annotate. Remember to organize your thinking and write and write and write.

How can there be blank pages in these question packets? How can there be no thesis statements? No organization? No evidence of thinking?

Really??

Why do days like this make me feel that on other days I must be talking to my self? Yep, I stand right there in that classroom I’ve made so homey and have a conversation with myself about the skills needed in order to successfully master AP Language.

I know I taught how to deconstruct a prompt. I know I taught how to use the rhetorical situation. I know I taught how to craft a position statement and how to develop it. I know I taught how to synthesize sources and cite them in an essay. I know I did. The anchor charts with all the details line my walls as proof of my instruction.

But this stack of essays? These essays tell me something I already knew half way through the second stack:  You might have taught it, but they certainly didn’t learn it.

So, whatcha gonna do now?

And therein lies the reason for yet another sleepless night.

Sometimes I dream of what it would be like to teach at a school with little or no poverty. To teach students who read at and above grade level. To teach students who not only have a plan for college but know who their roommates will be and the dates of pledge week. To teach students who really are AP ready.

I have a handful, but on days like today, after scoring essay after essay after essay for almost 8 hours, I cannot help but wonder.

And then I remember:

I love the challenge of matching books with kids. I love the glow they get when the book stings their hearts, like The Fault in Our Stars did for Adam, and Redeeming Love did for Katie.

I love the awe when we analyze a piece, and the light bulbs burst, and they “get” it, like Kelly’s understanding of the alliteration in George Bernard Shaw’s Joan of Arc. “She’s the devil…diabolical…satan.”

I love knowing that while I may never move them to where they get a qualifying score on an AP exam, I can move them into writing more purposeful pieces.

I can move them into living more literate lives.

And with that thought, maybe I will sleep tonight.

 

And tomorrow I will figure out how to teach this all again in a way that they will learn it. Really learn it.

Struggling for Structure

ocsHave you ever been out in public somewhere and automatically used your “teacher voice”?  You know the one I mean–the no-nonsense, I’m not kidding around, you had BETTER get with it this instant, voice of doom?  Well, that was definitely me, yelling at the TV, when I heard Punxsatawney Phil’s grim prediction for six more weeks of winter.

Punxsutawney-Phil-by-alemaxale

Here in West Virginia, our school district has had a record 13 snow days so far this year…and more bad weather is in the forecast.  I haven’t taught for a full week since December 2.  Don’t get me wrong–the first few days off were glorious.  I got all caught up on grading, read a few books (including the amazing Fearless Writing by Tom Romano–PLEASE check it out), and took some naps.  But after seven or eight of those days (stuck in the house, mind you), cabin fever set in and I was more than ready to be back at school…and judging by their chatter on Twitter, my students were, too.

To further complicate matters, I am hosting a student teacher for half of this semester.  Katie is wonderful.  Her openness, enthusiasm, and serenity amidst all of this upheaval has been incredibly refreshing.  We have wonderful curricular conversations and push each other to be the best teachers we can be.  She is only with me through the end of this month, and while my students and I will miss her, I know two things:  Katie will be an excellent teacher on her own, and I’ll be glad to be back at the helm.

As if that weren’t enough, testing season is upon us.  We’ll lose several days this month to a state online writing assessment, and more next month for the reading portion.  There’s nothing like a marathon of standardized testing to suck the joy right out of reading and writing.

What all of this mayhem has made me reflect deeply on is the importance of structure in the workshop model.  In many ways, structure–repetition, transfer, organization–is the heart of the reading and writing workshop.  One of the core tenets of this method is the goal to encourage our students to be lifelong readers and writers.  The vast majority of my general level students are still a long ways away from that.  We made great progress during the first half of the year, but with this extended interruption of our time together, things have changed.  Without structure, the gains my students experienced have been, in some cases, lost, for a few reasons…

IMG_2209One: my students do not have ready access to books, plentiful time to read, or constant encouragement from me to find both.  My kiddoes are coming to class at a complete loss as to what to read next, and some can’t even remember what they read last.  With no bookshelves at home and no way to get to a public library through the nasty weather, they need lots of help to find new, high-interest texts to draw them back into reading.

Two: my students have lost the reading and writing stamina they have built up.  It has been two full months since we’ve had a regular week of learning, so they are mentally sluggish–almost like they are on the first days of school.  The automaticity they’ve developed as learners has stalled, and they must work now to rebuild it.

IMG_1947Three: my students are struggling to see continuity in our work together.  As Katie and I have tried to work with them on crafting strong arguments that still bear the hallmarks of good writing, we have encountered obstacle after obstacle to the transitions, previews, and reviews that scaffolding consists of.  I am seeing the effects of this on their products.

Luckily, I’ve had a lot of time off to contemplate a solution to this unique problem.  I feel thankful that the community we have established in our classroom is intact, as it will be easier to dive right back into the work of reading and writing.  My students and I trust each other:  they know I trust them to be independent readers, writers, and thinkers, and I know they trust me to steer them in the right directions.

First, I will redouble my efforts to begin class with exciting, diverse booktalks.  Katie has introduced me to some new titles and reminded me of some tried-and-true home runs–Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi, Beloved by Toni Morrison, and Will Grayson, Will Grayson by John Green and David Levithan.  I will add these and other titles (or more copies of them) to my library, recommend them heartily to my readers, and then wait patiently for meaningful dialogue to emerge.  I’ll see it in reading conferences, Big Idea Books, and book blogs.  My hope is that this injection of freshness into the winter doldrums will awaken my students’ inner readers once again.

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Next, I will work to reacquaint my students with the visceral joy of writing through introspective quickwrites.  I want them focusing only on enjoyment with their informal writing…we will take a break from Kelly Gallagher’s marvelous articles of the week for now and will lean heavily on Linda Rief, Ralph Fletcher, Penny Kittle, and Georgia Heard for inspired notebook prompts.  I fully hope to see meaningful, serious writing in my students’ journals as they return to thinking of themselves as authors.

Lastly, I will use the energy from the long break I was given to fuel my passion as I teach.  I’ve heard people say that if students are truly independent learners, they can learn without a teacher…but I believe the leader at the head of the classroom is incredibly important.  I know for a fact that on days I have that extra cup of Starbucks Pike Place coffee, and I’m really on fire, my students get more out of my teaching.  I’ll recommit to my enthusiasm for, and teaching of, all things reading and writing.  I am hoping that this will carry both my students and I to the end of our now-extended school year.

So, 13 snow days, an amazing student teacher, a feisty groundhog, and two standardized tests later, here’s what I know: structure is important.  It is a NEED in the workshop, as well as in reading and writing.  Without it, growth and learning cannot occur.  In retrospect, perhaps a bit of lobbying for year-round school is in order…but I’ll save that blog post for another day.

We are in Process, and that is Beautiful

A follow up to a comment on the post Not the Same ‘Ole AP Writing Teacher

Wow. Thanks for following my blog. I’m grateful. I appreciate your inquiry into our Snowfall writing project. It’s made me do some thinking, and you’ve inspired me to turn my response into a follow up post. Thanks for that.

Here’s my best shot at answering your questions:

1. Do you have any completed student assignment that you would be willing to share? and 2. What vehicle/medium did you use for to students to publish their work?

No student samples yet — this is the first year I’ve had students complete something quite so extensive. In regard to publishing their work, we aim high, so students will do a bit of research to see if they can submit their articles somewhere for publication. When they were first selecting topics, we discussed audience, and students had to justify what kind of magazines would run a piece about their topics. For sure, students will publish their finished articles on their blogs. They each have their own blog in which they write weekly.

3. What were your specific requirements for the assignment?

Since I am pushing toward authenticity, I intentionally did not start with a rubric. I’m sure John Branch didn’t have a rubric when he started writing “Snowfall: Avalanche at Tunnel Creek” either. I want students to take ownership of this work, so I want them to think through the parts and pieces that will make their work turn out the best.

Students and I read five pages of Branch’s piece together, and I encouraged students to read the rest of the article online in their own time. All I really told them was that we were each going to write a full-length feature article, and this Pulitzer Prize winner was our model. I am trying to break habits of skating through writing assignments with weak ideas and weaker research. Many of my student are used to getting A’s without having to actually learn anything. This bothers me. That is partly why, although they got to choose their topics, I had to approve them and be sure there was some depth to what students were thinking in terms of what they could discover in their research.

While it may sound strange, I do not have specific requirements other than–

1. show me that you have learned several different modes of writing, including how to embed and cite research,

2. include several different images, including photos, video clips, info graphics, charts, etc that make your article multi-media and convincing,

3. prove that you take pride in your work by revising, evaluating, improving, and learning as you move toward publishing your best work.

I do keep tick marks in my records of students who submit their work to me for review on time and who use their time wisely in class, but those benchmarks become daily grades and will not influence a student’s final grade on the piece he finally publishes. Most likely I will allow students to give themselves a grade when all is said and done. Without question they always grade themselves harder than I ever do, and I have to score them up a bit.

4. Any other information that you could share with us would be greatly appreciated.

Every week we work on some aspect of this writing. Last week we read some descriptive writing, and students finished up their narrative intros. I read aloud the prologue of The Emperor of All Maladies–a Biography of Cancer (also a Pulitzer), a non-fiction text that begins with a narrative intro, similar to the narrative at the beginning of Snowfall, although different at the same time. We connected our thinking back to Snowfall, and students moved their “remember it” paragraph to the top of their page and revised to make emotional stories that would draw their readers into their articles. They read and evaluated the writing of their peers– aiming for the WOW factor (our way to gut-read a text), and they revised to make better.

Later we talked about definition as a mode, and students began writing a paragraph that defines their topics and includes a position statement. (We are including a persuasive slant more than Snowfall because of the argumentative focus of AP Lang.)

I showed students how to use google forms to conduct surveys, so they could gather their own data instead of relying on whatever they found on the internet, and they took a survey I created that I will use in my own feature article I am writing beside them. Every step I ask students to take, I take as well. They can see my piece develop and change and grow as theirs does. Soon I will introduce info-graphics with the hope some students will include those in their full-length article. I think info-graphics are so cool.

So, that’s about where we’re at with this huge and engaging writing project. I wish we could stop everything else and only work on this piece– we had a district checkpoint, and we have an AP mock exam looming, so we have to move back and forth into the genre of test taking. But … maybe, this slow process is for the best: I am able to show how the skills needed to write on demand are the same as developing a long process piece–only s.l.o.w.e.r.

We are in process, and that is exactly what I want. Kids are learning and growing as writers, and that is so much more important than rushing into a finished product.

I hope this helps. Please ask if you have other questions. I am happy to share and share and share. I am thrilled that others are doing this same kind of exciting and engaging work with students. We are teaching the writer and not the writing, and that is beautiful.

Warmest regards,

Amy

haLfwaY tHerE

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The buzzing alarm clock that startles you out of sweet, sweet dreams into the darkness of your frazzled morning is by no means friendly.  (BUZZZZZ…)  Open your eyes.  Quickly!  The abnormally freezing cold of winter; the unimaginable storms that continue to blanket our front lawns and backyard swing sets; the must to have snow boots handy at any given moment accompanied by a shovel and ice brush are in need of your attention – immediately.  The closed-eyed shower.  Fumbling and bumbling around while simultaneously getting dressed, blow drying your hair, making coffee all the while trying your darndest to remain quiet as to not wake other household members is…

Well…quite frankly…getting old; quickly.

The harried morning commute – windshield wipers flailing against the hail and tires shifting in the opposite direction to protect you from skidding– allows you to greet your students (with a smile, but of course!) on yet another cold and unpredictable winter morning.

You made it.

I made it.

We made it.

We have all made it to the half way point of our school year.  Students have pushed themselves in ways we could not have anticipated.  Educators have moved through obstacles with grace and poise.  Administration is pushing harder than ever.  Mother Nature has joined the club.

In the vein of reflection, doesn’t this seem like an integral point to stop…reflect…plan…and dig deep to find our reasons for trailblazing forth?  I think so.  So, here’s what I’ve been doing to keep warm during a brutally chilling winter:

To warm my HEART: I stop planning.  Aside from lesson plans, I have no plan.  I realize that when I stop planning every minute of my day, the most beautiful of moments surface.

From a quick drop in (“Just checking in, Ms. Bogdany.  You good?”) to a first-time-independent-reader so engrossed in Hill Harper’s Letters to an Incarcerated Brother he insists on marking pages to share with me as he passes by during the day.

From a very simple high-five in celebration of a special moment to a poet sky writing his inner most thoughts regarding his hometown.

Sky Writing

See the island of Manhattan, smaller borough
Back on Staten
Cross the county of the kings, then you make your way
to Queens…..

From a post-Regents philosophical discussion about Malcolm X’s beliefs and convictions to a colleague swinging by with, “Your previous Multi-Genre Writing students insisted that Ashlee, whom you didn’t have, show you her creative writing piece because it’s astounding.  They wanted you to see it.  Here it is.”

If my door was closed and my agenda had continued to take control of my day, these beautiful moments that inspire me, would be lost.

To warm my SOUL: I read voraciouslyI live in a sea of literature.  From gathering books from the laundry room’s shared library to the continually growing Francis Gittens Lending Library; I am never sans a book.  Often, I am juggling a few and that includes my new found interest with audio books.  From Room 382 to Apt. 2 (whether themed by topic or color) my soul sings in the presence of literature.

Books Everywhere

New books on display. Students love working among literature…lots and lots of literature.

Rainbow Library

Welcome to my rainbow library. It continues to grow with pieces I’d never imagined would find their home here.
(Feel free to click on the picture to take a peek at the titles.)

And really, what better way to keep warm (during this winter full of icicles) than with a book of choice; pomegranate spice scented candles; and blackberry-vanilla decaf tea?

To warm my MIND: I ask for help when I know I need it.  Yup, pride aside.  Wild, I know.  While I try to be all things for my students, there’s a reality.  And that reality is simple – no one educator can be all things for his/her students.  So, we must find those we trust, branch out, ask for a helping hand and push forward together.  It would be an injustice to not bring them into my ‘teaching loop’ to help motivate and encourage each student they’ve built trust with.  I need them to show me the way.

I also reach out to my PLN, no matter how far, they are always there to help guide, attempt humor, and support in soulful ways.  Their insight and guidance is always a surefire way to refocus my attention to the authenticity of educating.  Of this I could not be more grateful.

So, while we are all bundling up this winter and trying our very best to remain focused in-spite of the blistery weather – which does not seem to be going anywhere, anytime soon – we have much to celebrate.  We’re halfway there!  And instead of looking toward the finish line, let’s all take a moment to enjoy the snow filled scenery and the halfway mark.  It really is a warm place to be.

snow

It’s warm in here! And so beautiful out there!