One of the most important aspects of teaching English, particularly to high school seniors, involves empowering students to communicate effectively so that they can self-advocate and positively shape their lives. Whether our students are college-bound or not, chances are that at some point, they will need to sign a rental or purchase agreement or contract. They will need to decode the fine print in credit offers. They will need to contact employers using appropriate tone and content for their purposes.
Many of us make these real-world connections in the classroom, and one of my colleagues, Mrs. Davenport, even gives her students the opportunity to play a “Game of Life” that she developed which features the very real and important texts that our students will one day read and write. Last May, I spoke with my students about the legal difference a comma can make. For example, if a will states that property should be evenly divided between X, Y, and Z, each person would receive 33 1/3%. However, if it states that the property should be evenly divided between X, Y and Z, X would receive 50% while both Y and Z would split the remaining 50% for 25% each. While that would work out well for X, Y and Z would not be as prosperous. We also talked about very real court cases in which commas changed the ruling one way or another.
So like many of you, I already stressed the importance of precise language, but then I was summoned to jury duty. On what would have been my first day of summer vacation, I watched as 260 people narrowed down to 30. After answering questions in the jury pool, my heart sank as mine was the 12th name to be called to the jury. I never win a door prize, but this: I won.
The case involved a relationship between a land developer and a property seller that began with a pretty standard contract. The dispute arose when, after failing to close on the property according to the original contract, the pair entered into some form of verbal agreement. In short, the developer continued to spend his own money to develop the property but the seller cancelled their partnership without warning. While the jury held sympathies for the developer, and it was clear that there was some form of verbal agreement, we repeatedly returned to the language in both the original contract, in the text messages between the parties, and in the charges as supplied by the judge to reach our verdict. Given how the jury felt, we would have reached a very different decision. However, the specific language gave us no choice but to dismiss the charges against the landowner because any verbal agreement they shared was not specific and did not contain precise terms. Therefore, it was not enforceable.
Millions of dollars were on the line in this case, and it all came down to a handful of words. It became clear through this process that it does not matter whether it is a contract dispute or the murder trial taking place down the hallway (I’m glad I wasn’t selected for that jury!), the very precise way that charges are written changes everything. Our students often fail to see the real-world consequences they might face in the future as a result of not being able to follow language precisely. Now, I have yet another story to share with them. I would love to hear from you – how do you help students understand the power of language in shaping their lives?
But, as ever, reading is the great escape.
Murder-Mystery
The Word Exchange was completely, compulsively, un-put-down-able. Alena Graedon is a new author for me, and her tale of a world that loses its grip on language once a massive tech company monopolizes and commoditizes words was, for me, perfectly timed–I’ve been a little unsettled lately by my observations about how addicted to technology everyone is, and how afraid I am of what it’s doing to my students, and could potentially do to my children. This book spurred me to action in terms of deactivating my Facebook and Instagram accounts and making a conscious effort to leave my phone in another room–to make space to just be, and be bored, and have time to think and wonder and ponder.
The Power by Naomi Alderman was just wonderful. It had all the elements of a gripping adventure story, along with a powerful message about what corrupts us. In this novel, women develop an electrostatic power and a society shifts from patriarchal to matriarchal in the space of a few generations as a result. The effect of women suddenly becoming more physically powerful than men leads to widespread revolution in everything from interpersonal relationships to world leadership. It’s beautifully written, too.
Dear Martin was a book I’d been recommended a thousand times, it seemed, but after reading so many books that felt similar–The Hate U Give, Long Way Down, etc., I just couldn’t pick it up–but I’m so glad I finally did. Nic Stone crafts this novel as a series of letters from young Justyce McAllister to Martin Luther King, interspersed with transcripts of news reports and first-person narrative. It’s complex and thoughtful and plausible and readable and powerful. I loved it.
Teaching Books
tired confusion of early June. Maybe it just seems too good to be true, but either way, we wake up one fine morning and school is over. Disbelief likely continues. A bit more guarded excitement bubbles up. Then, because we are hardwired to keep pushing forward at all costs, we dutifully race into vacation (with a fevered pitch eerily reminiscent of the one we used to make it through the final crazy weeks of the school year) and look around wide-eyed wondering where to start. Having dragged ourselves across the finish line, heads down but thumbs up in our classroom community successes, we snap to once again to “get this summer thing underway.”
suggested to myself and to you last year (when will I ever take my own advice?!) – 
I grapple with this every summer. As a new teacher, I tried to make myself take the whole summer off from thinking about teaching, feeling like I was doing something wrong when I started doodling writing units or reading activity ideas. Later in my career I felt satisfied if I could turn off my teacher brain for just the month of June, and get back into the swing of things starting July 1.
students’ names and personalities. For my future teachers, I created our ideal school, in which we’d all teach and get to work together forever. In past years, I simply wrote a letter of well-wishes to my kids, and included each student’s name and a little compliment toward them all.
Allison Marchetti and Rebekah O’Dell, 
Who says we shouldn’t judge books by their covers — and their titles? I won’t apologize for instantly loving these books for their beautiful, ethereal covers and alluring titles. What a happy coincidence that each is filled with the pathos of personal experience that makes memoir so compelling in addition to an earnest and essential reminder about the human beings that live and struggle behind the headlines and the hashtags.
I’m pretty sure many of my students in Advanced Writing left the course still skeptical of the notion that artists — even accomplished ones — still turn to the work of other artists to inform or inspire their own. So, next year if they don’t believe me, maybe they’ll believe Questlove. In a section of this inspiring and accessible book called “Reduce, Reuse, Recycle,” he celebrates this practice and discusses “covering” the work of other artists not only as a way to work through an artistic slump but as an act of creativity in itself. Thanks, Questlove, for a refreshing take on the concept of mentor texts. He explains, “That’s another thing that creativity is–taking the existing world and making something new from it.” (BTW, I know that’s going on a handout somewhere.) I really loved his discussion of the MTV series Unplugged, which features popular (and typically “plugged-in”) musicians in a stripped-down, acoustic format. I’m determined to figure out a way to use the series to demonstrate the impact of form and tone.
Three Teachers Talk 