Guest Post by Alex Murphy. I’m sure Shana, Lisa, and I have a ton of ideas for this new teacher, but we’d like to know your ideas. Dear TTT Reader, please read Alex’s post and share your thinking:
We have a chant in my English I classroom. Every class before we begin our day’s work, I summon my best Nick Saban bellow and ask my students, “What’s our theme?”
“Stories have power!” they respond, sometimes with gusto, other times a bit more sluggishly.
Regardless of the level of enthusiasm, I have taught the kids to respond this way because I believe it to be deeply, potently true. Drawing on the teaching of my all-time favorite author, J.R.R. Tolkien, I believe that stories indeed have more power to communicate truth and combat lies than even the best-structured arguments our expositors have to offer. As Tolkien said in “Mythopoeia”:
In Paradise perchance the eye may stray
from gazing upon everlasting Day
to see the day-illumined, and renew
from mirrored truth the likeness of the True.
As Shana Peeples reminded us in her keynote speech at the Texas Council of Teachers of English Language Arts Annual Conference [this weekend], stories—“mirrored truth,” as Tolkien calls them—indeed have power to combat the Doublespeak we hear so often from the halls of power. “Stories are political tools,” she reminded us. It is a lesson well worth remembering.
But dearly as I hold these principles about the unmatched power of stories, the Friday afternoon workshop hosted by Holly Genova and Amy Rasmussen convicted me that I have not yet created a culture of reading in my room—a community of readers in which students devour books with purpose and swap stories with joy. As I listened to Holly and Amy discuss the power that reading choice has in their classrooms, the desire to cultivate a similar culture in my own classroom washed over me. Indeed, I was inspired to start right away.
It took about seven seconds for my inspiration to dissolve into fear. I froze, half-way through tossing Monday’s lesson plans off the balcony, as the scenarios hit me one after the other: What if I can’t convince my students that reading is important? What if I don’t have time to encourage independent reading and also teach the standards sufficiently? What if my administrators don’t get on board? What if my own inadequacies as a reader start to show through? What if I fail?
This is my first year teaching; I don’t even have a decent classroom library. It feels like an awful risk to undertake a paradigm-shift from assigned reading and direct instruction to instructing through independent reading, especially when the English I STAAR test is seven instructional weeks away. However, if my mission is to convince my students that stories have power, nothing could be more important. So, to the wonderful educators at Three Teachers Talk, I have several pressing questions:
- How should I start the work of creating a culture of reading in my classroom this deep into the year? What should be my first step in the transition?
- How can I undertake this shift and still ensure my scholars are equipped to perform well on the skills-based assessments they will take in so short a time?
- I want to show my administrators the benefits of this shift while also acknowledging the risks. How should I communicate this plan to them?
Amy and Holly put together a career-altering professional development session this weekend, and now it’s time to capitalize. Any thoughts you have on the best way to do this will help me.
Sincerely,
Alex M.G. Murphy
Alex M.G. Murphy teaches English I and U.S. History in the beautiful community of southeast Fort Worth, where he lives with his wife Rebekah and pit bull Sullivan. He is a graduate of Rice University.



When I hear teachers underestimate their students, it really grates on me. Setting high expectations that aren’t always met doesn’t translate into failure on anyone’s part. It simply notes varying levels of understanding. With time and repeated exposure, all concepts and skills we want to teach can be worthwhile.
As fall rolls into winter, I’m noticing that a lot of high school writing teachers are writing about teaching the college essay to their students. 
Student Victory #1: Seyi.
Tuesdays are bar none the best day of the week. Tuesdays are when most new books are released. On Tuesdays, you can run to the bookstore, go to the library, or wait eagerly for a package to arrive. If you love reading new books, Tuesdays are nothing short of wonderful.
However, I have been able to sharpen my powers of observation, and through these observations I’ve been able to deepen my sense of the readers I work with.
When students have an opportunity to read in class, I observe body language. Different readers have different methods of getting physically “into” a book. Some fold the book in half like a newspaper and bring the book inches from their eyes. Others put their heads on their desks. To the untrained eye, teen readers can look slouchy, lazy, or inches away from napping. These are students who have entered what Nancie Atwell calls “the reading zone” — they are so immersed in a story that they are lost to the outside world and are unaware of how others are perceiving them in that moment.
This summer my social media has been clamoring about content warnings and safe(r) spaces within an academic community. To what extent do we as educators bear responsibility for how our students respond to the material we may present to them?
Also interesting was that what I know about my readers’ personal lives didn’t always square with what they wrote about their reading topics. Some of my readers seem to want to read books that mirror their real-life struggles. Others want to veer far away from those topics.
If your readers have ever played fantasy sports or filled out a March Madness bracket, they’ve experienced the same feelings that book lovers do over awards announcements. And just the way sports fans are making predictions about championship winners all season, readers spend all year making predictions about which books will win which awards.
Pleasant Surprises: