Category Archives: Writers

Reel Reading for Real Readers

Amy Rasmussen, Book Trailers May 22, 2014 Leave a comment

ReelReading2For about two years now I’ve posted book trailers, author interviews, and a few other online resources (like the amazing Pinterest boards for The Goldfinch and Alice Bliss) as a way to help guide my students into the world of reading.

I’ve found there are two prime ways that students get interested in a book.

1. I have to love it. If I read a short passage and share my experience while reading a certain book, and students see how it made me think or made me feel, without question, at least one student asks immediately to check it out from my classroom library. Usually there’s a waiting list.

2. I have to help them “see” the book. If I show books trailers, even movie trailers, and help students visualize the story line or the characters or the action, even my struggling readers are more likely to at least give a book a try. Sometimes that’s all it takes.

I have had great success in developing readers this year, especially this year. Maybe I finally figured out how my personal passion for books can work to accelerate student interest in books. More likely it’s the time I allowed for my teens to explore the bookshelves, talk to each other about what they are reading, and the time I gave them to read. Every. Day.

My students will evaluate their reading lives next week as the last task I ask of them. They will interview each other and think about our growth as readers. I know that talking about books, showing book trailers, (and investing a lot of time and money in a phenomenal classroom library) is why I am going to smile all the while as I read their evaluations.

Reel Reading post will take a break this summer.

I’d love to hear of your successes with students and reading this year.

Reflection on the Year

Heather Cato, Pedagogy May 12, 2014 Leave a comment

SUMMER

I know it is hard to believe, but the school year is almost over. I am sure some of you are counting down the days before you can run screaming and yelling from the building, but before you do I encourage you to take just a minute or two for a bit of self-reflection.

Here are a few simple prompts to guide your thinking:

1. Think back to the beginning of the year, what is one thing that you were determined to do better this year. — How did it go?

2. Looking to next year, what is one commitment you want to make regarding an area in which you want to improve? — What will you do this summer to be ready to tackle your challenge this fall?

There is nothing magical about my questions, but what is magical is taking a minute or two for yourself to reflect on your practice. I am sure you have some great stories to share and know we would love to hear them! Feel free to add a comment below.

 

Photo credit: Lotus Carroll / Foter / Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 2.0 Generic (CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)

Now, THIS is a Candidate Bio

Amy Rasmussen, AP English May 7, 2014 Leave a comment

As co-sponsor of National Honor Society on my campus, I get to help determine membership and officers for the next year. It is that time of year.  My friend and colleague (the real sponsor) has been reviewing officer applications. She sent me this delightful piece, written by one of my current AP English students.

What follows is a clever, and entertaining example of the kind of writing students will do, if we give them the opportunity to be themselves on the page– no restrictions, no required form. Just time and space.

Michelle submitted this for her Officer Candidate Bio for NHS President. Read it and see if you get what she’s done here:

Dark Horse: I’ll serve you like a “Dark Horse”.

Happy: Because I’m “Happy”, clap along if you feel like NHS is the best.

All of Me: Cause “All of Me” will serve all of you.

The Man: Well, you can tell everybody, I’m “The Man”, I’m the Man, I’m the Man, Yes I am, Yes I am, Yes I am.

Say Something: “Say Something”, I’ll always listen to you.

Timber: It’s going down, I’m yelling “Timber”, you better move, you better serve.

Counting Stars: Lately I been, I been losing sleep, Dreaming about the things that we could be, But baby, I been, I been prayin’ hard, Said no more counting dollars, We’ll be counting hours.

I’ll Make a Man Out of You: Let’s get down to business, To defeat these hours, They did send me leaders, when I asked for flowers. You’re the greatest bunch I ever met, But you can bet before we’re through Mister, “I’ll Make a Leader Out Of You.”

Let It Go: “Let It Go”, let it go, Can’t hold it back anymore, Let it go, let it go, go ahead and serve even more.

Thrift Shop: I’m gonna pop some events, Only got seven days in a week, I – I – I’m hunting, looking for a come-up, This is super awesome.

I Will Always Love You: And I… will always help you, ooh. Will always help you.

Can’t Hold Us: Can we go back, this is the moment, This year is our year, we’ll serve ’til forever, So we put our hands up like the ceiling can’t hold us, Like the ceiling can’t hold us

Do You Want to Build a Snowman: “Do You Want to Build a Snowman”, then please vote for Michelle P.

 

Playing with Poetry

Amy Rasmussen May 6, 2014 Comments: 3

They think poetry is boring. And hard. They do not think it is beautiful, bold, or bursting with meaning. For the past two weeks, I have tried to change that for my PreAP English I and 2 students.

I copied a variety of poems. Some long. Some short. Some richly complex. Some easy. We glued them in our notebooks, and we took our time reading them each day. Sometimes we wrote responses. Sometimes we just read and talked. They liked this talking best.

We watched some spoken word poets share their love of language in moving poems they shared with the world. This one by a young poet at a school across town helped students see hat imagery creates emotion.  This one by Sarah Kay helped students see that repetition does more than just “emphasize” a point.  And this one by Shane Koyczan that we’d watched at the beginning of the year and watched again helped students see that poems — more than anything else — allow us to express the ache that can eat our souls if we don’t release it.

Oh, words.

I heard over and over again as we read, discussed, and listened: “Oh, I get it.”

Lights of understanding twinkled over teenage heads.

I learned a valuable lesson (or two). I must integrate more poetry throughout my lessons ALL YEAR LONG. My students and I both enjoyed it. Go figure.

We especially had fun for just a day. And we “wrote” black out poems. black out poem AilsaSome were pretty sloppy, but some were pretty cool. See?black out poem Lifeblack out Truthblack out Ariannablack out designblack out Alexa

black ot Yulisa

 

Marvelous Multigenre

Books, Guest Post, Readers Workshop, Readers Writers Workshop, Shana Karnes, Writers Workshop May 3, 2014 Comments: 12

For the duration of my teaching career, May has always meant multigenre.  The multigenre project, or MGP, is the perfect way to finish the year–it showcases students’ abilities to read, research, write, present, collaborate, revise, and create in a way that is enjoyable for all parties involved.  All of those skills (Common Core, anyone?) are the things we want our students to know how to do by the time they leave us, so what better way to determine whether they can than with the MGP?

This Tom Romano-created concept has always been one of my favorite things to teach, and one of my students’ favorite products to produce.  I suppose I assumed that because I would teach it similarly to how I have in past years, the process and products would also be similar.  Boy, was I wrong!  Thanks to employing the workshop model, this school year has been so radically different from previous years that I don’t know why I didn’t expect a huge difference in the way I watched multigenre explode.

IMG_3056

Multigenre explosion

As I work beside my students on my own Jane Austen multigenre piece, what I am struck most powerfully by is their confidence and independence as they make writing decisions.  Last year, I answered countless questions from students about what was allowed, what requirements needed to be fulfilled, and what was off limits.  My open-minded, the-sky’s-the-limit replies only seemed to induce stress.  This year, they have induced elation.

While my mentor text, modeling, and peer collaboration-heavy method of teaching the MGP has not changed, it’s clear that what has changed this year is how my students see themselves by the time we begin the project.  They don’t see themselves as students at the mercy of a grade or a rubric or a teacher.  They simply see themselves as writers.  They feel comfortable with individualized, meaningful, rigorous reading and writing demands, all thanks to the workshop model.  I have watched with surprise as my students quickly decide on topics for their MGPs–Harry Potter, classic cars, piercings, divorce, ALS, Star Wars, Blake Shelton, the allure of travel, Great Danes, and more.  Many of those topics are things that they have already written about several times this year–something that was once taboo for them in English classes.  My students have come to understand that without putting themselves into their writing, it is meaningless.  They also know, thanks to the design of workshop, that the point of writing, similarly to reading, is to make meaning.

I cannot wait to see what my students produce with the MGP.  I am so proud to have spent an entire year writing beside them, and I am looking forward to our last day of class when they open their writing portfolios and see the thick stacks they’ve produced, submit their final reading ladders and take pictures with towering stacks of finished books, and complete a journal harvest in which they revisit and evaluate their writer’s notebook one last time.  I know with certainty that they will feel accomplished, proud, and confident.  My hope is that those feelings will propel them to keep up their habits of reading and writing for life.  In the end, that’s all I hope to achieve as an English teacher–to make my students lifelong readers and writers like me.

What’d You Say?

Books, Erika Bogdany, Pedagogy, Readers Workshop, Writers Workshop April 26, 2014 Leave a comment

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?  

Writing but Not Writing

Amy Rasmussen, Writers Workshop April 22, 2014 Comments: 5

It’s been almost a year since I decided to write a book. I’ve lied a lot. No, not in the book, but in telling people I am writing one. To be a writer I know I need to write more. I’m just not good at it.

I feel like every student I’ve ever taught must feel.

I sit to write, and I get distracted. Compulsive, too. My inbox has to be empty. My Twitter feed has to be “read.” My notifications have to be noted. My apps have to be updated.

This is a problem.

I know what all those writers say, giving advice–playing with my psyche.  One of the things that fills my news feed is quotes by authors. At one time I thought that was a good idea.

Just this morning:

“The writer’s only responsibility is to his art. He will be completely ruthless if he is a good one.” ~William Faulkner

“The discipline of the writer is to be still and listen to what his subject has to tell him” ~Rachel Carson

“Teach yourself to work in uncertainty.” ~Bernard Malamud

Oy! I thought if I got writing tips from published writers I’d find some tips for writing more and writing better. Mostly, I just get depressed.

I don’t like uncertainty. Who has time to be still? Is my art teaching or writing? (See that conflict with time?)

I know one thing:  I understand my students more. And I haven’t even asked them to write a book. I’ve only tried to get them to care about their writing. Play with words and structure and meaning. Create something that brings a smile because it works for you.

It’s harder than it sounds. I know because I practice it every time I sit to write. And the struggle doesn’t away.

I’m not giving up, but there are days I want to.

Like a week ago when I asked Heather to read my introduction and give me feedback, and she shot me through the heart. Not on purpose–I know that. But sheesh, I was not quite prepared to be so vulnerable.

I imagine much like a student or two who’ve read my purple pen and wondered “What the heck? I bled to write that.”

This morning I got up early to write.

I wrote.

But not a bit in this so called book.

This is a problem.

Authentic Work

Heather Cato, Pedagogy April 16, 2014 Comments: 3

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?

The Missing Link

Heather Cato, Writers Workshop April 14, 2014 1 Comment

Last week I was working with some educators on a little project. I needed educators to take some time and write-up strategies that we could share with others as “Best Practices” for instruction. (I really hate the term BEST practice, but that’s a different blog.)  I provided a FOCUS LESSON by explaining what it is that I wanted them to do and the components they would need to include in their writing. I even showed them models, or samples, of what I wanted them to write, and we deconstructed them in order to analyze the style of writing. I then sent these educators on their way to COLLABORATE with the others at their table before they would INDEPENDENTLY write their own submission. The next day, when I went back to look over what the educators had written, I noticed a seemingly hodgepodge assortment of entries. (I need to preface that none of the entries were bad or horrible; in fact, I discovered that I have many educators who are excellent writers. It is just that some of the entries aren’t quite what I expected.) I guess I could more descriptively say–they didn’t follow the model that I had provided.

I spent much of the remainder of the week observing in classrooms, noticing similar lessons. A teacher would teach something, but then what the students produced on their papers wasn’t quite what the teacher was talking about. I kept thinking:

How can educators better connect the instruction with the desired results in a student’s finished product?

Or in my case:

How does an educator effectively communicate a vision
for a specific desired result?

bike1In chasing this rabbit, I started thinking about how we learn how to ride a bike. Think back to when you first learned to ride. Too long ago? What about when you taught a child to ride a bike. How did you start? Was your first attempt successful? I can remember WATCHING the older kids on the block cruising around, and I remember being jealous because they could go places so much faster than I could on foot. I also remember riding along WITH my dad on the back of his bike in a little seat. As we rode TOGETHER he would like to play tricks on me by leaning his weight to one side or the other, and thought I was going to fall out, but as he leaned he would EXPLAIN how leaning to one side or the other would help me make the turn. Riding along with my dad was great, don’t get me wrong, but I wanted a piece of the action for myself. I remember harassing my father, “But dad, I want to ride my own bike!” When my father finally took me out to teach me how to ride on my own, I have to be honest, I was a little disappointed. He had added these baby wheels to the back of my bike. Can you believe it?! How on earth was I supposed to look cool cruising like the other kids when I had this dead weight to drag around? What’s worse is that my dad didn’t just let me get on and go, he wasted my time EXPLAINING things –like how to brake. To make matters worse, my dad even held on to the back of the seat and FOLLOWED me on my first ride out. I was so annoyed–until I fell over that is . . . then, of course, I was grateful he was right there to help GUIDE me back up. Eventually, with more of my dad’s ASSISTANCE I was able to take a ride on my own, but it certainly wasn’t without a lot of his help in the beginning.

 

What I’m finding as I work to help improve instruction is that many educators, including myself, are missing a critical component of a basic model.

GRR-model

 

I’m sure you have seen it before–the Gradual Release Model is nothing new. I remember my professors talking about it in college. While the idea is very simple, it provides a structure that helps educators assist students in taking ownership of their own work–and communicate the desired results of the learning more effectively.

Look back at how I explained what my dad did when he taught me how to ride a bike. I made understanding easy for you and put the key words in bold. I’m sure my dad didn’t know it, but in teaching me how to ride my bike he actually followed the Gradual Release Model pretty closely. I watched him and others ride their bikes. We went on rides together. He was by my side, guiding me as I rode my bike. Then I eventually took full ownership and rode alone, having learned the things he taught me.

Now look back at how I explained what I did with educators last week. I provided them instruction. I allowed them to collaborate with peers, and then I let them do it on their own. Notice what I missed?

Shared Instruction = the Missing Link

I failed to take the time to model with the educators. I missed out on the “We do it together” part. In one chart I saw, it listed the facilitator’s responsibility during the Shared Instruction time as:

  • Works with students
  • Checks, prompts, clues
  • Provides additional modeling
  • Meets with needs-based groups

If I had included this shared instruction step as part of my instruction process, I would have provided the time for whole group collaborative writing as a way to create shared meaning of my expectations. The educators as students would have, “completing the process alongside others,” which would resulted in a more aligned finished product.

Thinking back to my time in my own classroom, I am able to pin point many times when I skipped this important step because of time. I rushed to give kids enough information so that I could get them into their own writing. In reality though, I short-changed the instructional process and did not allow my students to deepen their understanding of the task before I expected them to do it independently.

I wonder, if I had devoted more time to this shared meaning step, might I have had to spend less time on corrections and redos?

Take a minute to think about it for yourself.  How much time in any given lesson do you spend on creating shared meaning, working alongside your students to ensure they understand before letting them go on their own way? How might making a little more room for this step save you time in the end?

I am Not Assigning Books

Amy Rasmussen, AP English, Books, Readers Workshop, Readers Writers Workshop April 12, 2014 Comments: 3

Our Compass Shifts 2-1I love @professornana, the Goddess of YA Literature, and I learn a lot from reading her posts. This one got me thinking, and I opened and read every link she embedded in it.

This whole exile thing is crazy. Like Teri suggests, go take this little lexile quiz yourself. Then read the article she references, Teachers are Supposed to Assign Harder Books, but They Aren’t Doing it Yet. You’ll see what I mean.

CRAZY.

The article got me (and not in a good way) at the title with the word “assign.”

My students are reading more than they ever have before because I am talking books, and suggesting books, and showing off books more than I ever have before.

I am not assigning them.

Choice works. Allowing students to read what they want, high or low lexile, works.

Do I sometimes steer students into genres, or most recently into Prize winners? Do I meet with kids and challenge them into more difficult books? Yes, but I’ve learned to always include some element of choice.

The past several days I’ve spent conferring with students during the first 10 minutes of class. Ten minutes that we devote to independent reading. I’ve met with 2/3 of my 145 students so far. Every student but two has read more this year than they did last. Most have exceeded the goal they set during our first reading conferences at the beginning of the year.

That kind of data speaks louder than any kind of lexile level. (I need to just say that my auto-correct changes lexile to exile every single time. Do you think that’s telling?)

Recently, a colleague visited my classroom. He watched my students engage with literature while I sat at a back table and listened. Later he asked how I conduct my readers/writers workshops. I told him “You saw it.”

My task is to get students reading and to teach them to talk about a texts:  books, stories, articles, passages, poems. Once I do that, students can do most everything else when it comes to reading on their own.

There’s freedom here. Freedom for me and freedom for them.

Funny how my students learn more from each other than they do from me anyway. I wonder why it took me so long to realize that.

I’m reminded of a post Donalyn Miller wrote almost a year ago, and I echo her title:

Let My People Read.

 

P.S. Are you thinking about Summer Reading yet? It’s about to be a hot topic on my campus. To allow kids to choose or not to choose, that is the question.

P.S.S. I have to figure out how to allow student choice in AP Literature, which I am most likely teaching next year. Every experienced AP Lit teacher I’ve talked to “assigns” specific books. Still trying to think through this. Any suggestions?