Oh, what a week is the last week of the school year! I jokingly call it the exact longest and shortest week of the year. It often feels that way to me, with all the rushing about and organizational needs entailed in packaging up the world that existed inside one year of school.
The other day a friend of mine shared a great TED talk with me, focused around the idea of why we need poetry in our lives. I have been looking forward to sharing it here this week! And am possibly even more excited about watching the dozens of poetry related Ted talks I found here -- hmm, 36 current videos means one each week of school next year, right?
I don't believe you have to be a huge poetry buff to love and appreciate this video. Burt says he fell in love with poetry because he wanted to "know how and why." I loved hearing this, because just yesterday I talked about how, as a writer, I often wonder about the how's and why's of a given situation.
No wonder I love poetry so much -- a poem is a world of patterns that explore the how and why of the universe, in a way.
The second stanza from the first poem Burt discusses in his talk is shared in part below (and you can read the rest here). I love that a poem written around 1896 remains true and relevant in 2014. The words of this poem resonate with me, in part because of where my boys are in life right now -- on the precipice of adulthood, needing both to learn and teach, blowing across the world's wide highway as tumbleweeds.
I look forward to knowing the them they are becoming, but oh how I love holding on tight and joining in on the ride as they go! It's funny, isn't it, how many lives we can live in one lifetime.
Every day is an opportunity for new experiences. Some good, some bad, some completely unbelievable. Today's Tuesday Ten is also a Slice of Life brought to you by one experience that made me realize how many new things happen to us in a day that go unnoticed. I wondered if I could come up with a list of ten new experiences today, to notice each moment that otherwise might slip by without celebration.
Ten Things I Did Today That I've Never Done Before
Ate a veggie sandwich at Schlotzsky's. Sure, this doesn't seem like a big deal, but hey -- it was new to me. Lettuce, cucumbers, tomatoes, onions, cheddar cheese, a spicy ranch sauce, all on a deliciously toasted sourdough bun. Tasty.
Shared one of my Google Docs with a stranger. Proof I'm learning to play nice with others. I recently created a rather lengthy planning calendar for the upcoming school year, filled with literary events celebrated on a global level along with monthly deadlines for district technology and literary initiatives. Yesterday I noticed a tweet by someone looking for a calendar of literary events to use in their school next year and I thought, "Why not?" If my overly neurotic need to plan can be of some use to a fellow human, I'm happy to assist.
Used Skitch to screen capture and annotate an article. I've used Skitch before on images, but haven't played with it to highlight text, take notes, and summarize my learning. I did this today in a Discovery Education training, and when our instructors and a few other teachers noticed what I was doing, they tried it out also. It was fun to watch this spontaneous learning spark across the room.
I think it turned out well!
Ate half a brownie. Now, I could be wrong. There may be some completely forgotten time in my past where, halfway into brownie consumption, I pushed that scrumptious little morsel of gooey chocolate aside and said, "Oh no, thanks. I couldn't. I'm just stuffed." But I have a feeling it hasn't happened before. When it comes to chocolate, I'm all in. Or I was. Today I have the wrapped remains of my half-eaten brownie sitting in my backpack to prove me wrong.
Used my phone to video a person using their iPad to demonstrate how an app works. Now, this app is probably one of the coolest things I've seen in the world of all things appy, so my nerdfest device-o-rama was definitely warranted. A Heart Cam app. Awesome. Sauce. You can listen to my obvious glee in the video!
I'd like to point out that I wasn't the one that asked if that was his real heart. Just sayin.
Gave a dog Benadryl. Grimm seems to be suffering from wonky allergies. He gets big welts sometimes, which I believe are from bug bites. The vet suggested dosing him up with Benadryl, and although I'm not a fan of dosing any living thing up on anything, the poor guy is all itchy and bumpy and sad, so I gave in. For the first time in his little dog life, he actually spit something out. I tried again by dropping the pill into a handful of treats, which he happily gobbled up. By the time Uno and I got home from our errand, all his bumps were gone!
Oh, the errand. This has to be the most sketchy and least worthy of celebration in my list of newness. Uno's car was towed the other night when he unknowingly parked in a spot that required a visitor's permit while spending the night at a friend's apartment. I went with him tonight to pick up his car, and about $400 later he emerged with his car from the fortress of steel and security cameras that will forever be known to me as Car Jail (Carcatraz??).
Watch what you say, yo.
While waiting in line behind the four people ahead of us at Car Jail, a tow truck from another company drove up and the driver parked and walked over to join us in line. He was an older man that looked as if he'd had a life punctuated with discomfort. His mannerisms and quiet observation of the scene around him made my writer's mind start wandering, so I took out my phone and started a short character sketch. I've never used my phone to take writing notes like this before (I make far too many typing errors with my phone! Kudos to peeps like Lauren Oliver, who appear to have the ability write entire novels using their phone!), but I'm glad I had it because this wasn't the type of place where I wanted to take a leisurely seat in the dirt, pull out my fountain pen, and start writing away in my moleskine journal!
Followed Uno in my car. I'm accustomed to chauffeuring my kids around town. I'm becoming accustomed to having them follow me places now that they drive, and we sometimes need to take separate cars when we're out and about. I am absolutely not accustomed to following one of my children as they speed down the highway like an actual grown up human. It's weird, people. It's a weird, weird life we live.
Looked through a collection of Uno's photography to select some pieces to frame and hang in the house. Okay, I've done this with artwork before. All throughout the boys' childhood, I framed and placed their art around the house. But this feels different. These are black and white photography pieces from his first photography class in college. And they are timeless and hauntingly beautiful and a message about the uncapturable energy of youth. I love them, and not simply because they are a part of him.
Above photos by Steven Lifsey, who doesn't like sharing as much as I do.
My supervisor recently gave me copies of The Poetry Friday Anthology by Sylvia Vardell and Janet Wong for both my campuses. There are weekly poems inside for grades K-5, along with tips on reading each poem with your class. I've only scanned it briefly so far, but I'm eager to read through several more poems! I thought it might be fun to make videos for teachers to use next year in class with some of the poems -- you guys, if I could stand on my head and recite poetry, and if it would get more poetry into classrooms -- I would do it!
So here is my first attempt! I used a fun app called Tellagami. It's free, and allows you to create a character and either record your voice or use text to speech to animate a 30 second video. You can choose from the backgrounds provided or upload your own image.
This is me reciting Night Comes by Deborah Chandra, which is in the 5th grade section for week 32 and chosen as a poem for noticing metaphor and simile. What do you think?
Don't forget to hop over and see what Crystal is up to today!
Maybe I owe it to the end of this first semester of grad school, but I'm in a rather reflective place right now. In the past few months I have written so much more, and almost all of it by hand with the beautiful fountain pen The Husband gave me for Christmas. The writing definitely puts me in the mindset to think about my thinking, as well. Top that with the research I've been up to my newly sprouting grey hairs with -- all about our journey in life, physical journeys, and personal healing -- and I'm a breeding ground for deep, metaphysical thinking.
Looking forward, I see adventure and travel and love and so much writing. It's a nice view, but one I'm apt to only glance at briefly. What is most important to me is the now. Why focus only on future plans for adventure when I can be off adventuring right now, every day, every moment.
I think it is up to each person to define what adventure means for them. My mom reminded me of this recently. Upon hearing about my plan to hike the OHT and the desire to go alone, she commented that nobody should hike alone. By the end of the conversation, we both agreed that each person should decide for themselves whether or not a long solo hike was a good idea. She said it wasn't something she would want to do, and that's fine. In fact, it's good. I don't think everyone needs to have every experience in order to be happy. We all find happiness in our own way, in our own space.
So, the adventure. Must an adventure only be defined as some epic, grand scale journey through rough seas and unknown territories? Or can we find adventure in places as mundane as the office, the kitchen, or even curled up with a good book on the couch?
Maybe the decision to live each moment as a grand adventure of its own is in itself a grand adventure. If I am always on the lookout for the beauty and exhilaration typical of adventure, I'm fairly certain I'll find it. Even in the library.
Especially in the library.
Today in the library I was a scientist, a teacher, a photographer, a researcher, a friend, a solver of mysteries, and even a storm chaser.
Right now, our 5th graders are adventuring in the world of
bridge engineering! Love being on this journey with them.
And that doesn't even capture what happened after I left work and ventured home. Rather a full day, don't you think?
I'm eager to see what adventures come my way tomorrow. What adventures have you been on lately?
In class this week, we finally dug into our first text on poetry, Rose, Where Did You Get That Red? by Kenneth Koch. As someone that loves to explore poetry with young writers, I can't believe I've never seen this book before. I'm also a little amused that much of how I share and write poetry with my writers is pretty similar to the methods in this book, written in 1973. If you are looking for a resource to help guide your instruction on poetry with students -- don't miss this one.
With National Poetry Month just around the corner (my poster arrived last week!), this feels like perfect timing. I'm looking forward to some fun poetry play in my writing club!
We started off just enjoying several of the student responses to the poems in Koch's book and ended by listening to our professor read Wallace Stevens' Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird. After discussing the poem, he asked us to each remove an item from our bags or wallets.
I chose a pencil, because I am damn original.
Because I am also completely clueless, I had no idea what he was going to ask us to do. Perhaps if I were a decent student, I would have chosen a more exciting item.
Alas.
Next, as will probably not surprise you, dear reader, but was a total shock to me, we wrote about the item we chose -- thirteen ways of looking at it, of course. We had about ten minutes or so to jot down our first thoughts. Mine are below. This is the first time I've looked at them again since Monday, and I'm remembering now how difficult it was for me to write a few lines and try to think of a different way to look at a pencil. I love how this activity stretches the brain. Nothing earth shatteringly new in the lines shared below, but I still think this is a great idea for looking at things in different perspectives. My teacherly brain immediately leapt to thoughts on how this could be used in other content areas. My writer's mind considered it as character study, setting research, and even a way to write memoir.
Today was the first day of our state writing test, or STAAR. We've spent nearly 8 months together -- reading, writing, thinking, questioning, reflecting, and more.
They're stronger. More confident. Well-prepared.
They have created a solid craft as writers in the months we have shared.
I'm not worried. My stomach isn't twisted in knots.
This is a strange phenomenon.
By all accounts, I probably should be concerned.
Even though what they have learned is solid, it's possible they haven't grown enough to pass at the state standard. They came to me struggling to learn. They arrived such a short time ago, with low self esteems that often got in the way of their own success -- and this had to be tended to before we could do anything else.
So. We've grown by leaps and bounds. They are proud of their writing -- where once it was difficult to write a coherent sentence, now there are paragraphs of well-thought sentences.
I could not be more proud of them, each and every one. And results from this test won't shake that away.
Today I planned to roll the netbook cart into my classroom, collect several final drafts from my writers, and let them blog and interact on our Wonder Edmodo group.
Please note the word planned.
Today the netbook cart was already reserved by someone else. This rarely happens, so I've gotten in the habit of not reserving it. Oops.
However.
Today I pulled the best examples of writing from our final drafts and, with permission, shared them with both classes. I asked my learners to listen carefully for what jumped out at them as examples of writing they thought worked well.
I read, they listened.
Then I asked, "So. What did you notice?"
They called out words, phrases, and structure points they liked. I wrote everything on my whiteboard. Then we categorized.
They noticed unique verbs, similes, metaphors, interesting introductions, truisms, organization styles, great descriptions, and specific details. They noticed the difference in writing that left the world of vague generalities to paint a specific picture purposefully crafted by the writer. They noticed that the writers included what was important, and nothing more. They noticed the writers wrote personal stories that mattered, and that these stories included some kind of struggle or conflict. They noticed emotions. They noticed everything (and more) that I hoped for. They are nine and ten years old. To me, this is astounding.
Then I asked them if they would like to revisit their drafts and look for places to revamp their writing.
I was not disappointed. They all wanted to look again.
So they did.
And one by one, I met with each of them.
I asked them, "So. What do you think your story is really all about?"
They told me their story -- not the written version, but the story from their heart. When they finished, I simply asked if they felt the story they told me was the story they wrote.
Often, they realized their writing had several details that took away from their purpose. Or that the story they really wanted to tell took up about one paragraph of rushed sentences, and the rest of their writing was extra information. I didn't tell them this. I just asked, "Does what you wrote match what you want your reader to experience? Does it tell the truth of the moment you are trying to explain?"
Once they decided what the answer was, we talked some more. They chose what to change, and off they went to make those changes.
I love asking questions and watching them think through what they want - to find their own answer. I love watching writers develop their craft. I love the fact that I get to talk with them and help them explore writing, and I don't need to give them anything, but an ear, a smile, and a few encouraging words.
Today didn't go as planned. But it went exactly as it needed to.
And that, dear readers, is an excellent thing, indeed.
Before I entered the wide world of public school education, I taught at a small private school. I started out as a PreK teacher, bounced over to teaching the Music and Movement section of the day, moved on to serving as the Assistant Director and After School Coordinator, and several years later, found myself as the Director of the school.
I helped grow our small school from preschool to a full K-5 program. We were small, but happy. The teachers were a tightly knit team. We had a sense of togetherness and shared pride in what we accomplished. I loved working with our teachers; helping them solve problems with curriculum, finding opportunities to supplement our limited technology experiences, and working with them through student concerns gave me a strong sense of accomplishment.
Six years ago, I left that world and began teaching 4th grade in public school. It was an eye-opening experience. I'll never forget how I felt as state testing neared, realizing that it really was as stressful as so many people described. The entire climate of the campus changed as we found ourselves just weeks away from "the test." I did my best to shove away the paranoia and my own deepening sense of dread, focusing on my learners and doing anything I could to empower them to feel strong and confident.
At the end of that first year, I found out about a position in our district called a "Instructional Coach." This position encompassed everything I had loved about being the director at the private school, with none of the budget and administrative red tape I had been so happy to leave behind. Applicants needed three years teaching experience in the district, so I tucked that idea into my pocket, and waited.
The year I was finally able to apply, the positions were dramatically cut. I was heart broken. I miss working with teachers as a coach. I miss offering resources and advice, modeling lessons and helping a teacher find his/her strengths and using them to grow. As a classroom teacher myself, I find it difficult to do this to the extent that I would like. And although I love my learners, and am passionate about the work we do together every day, I still feel that something is missing.
In my new district, there are more opportunities for positions like this. But the district is huge, and I haven't even had my foot in the door a full year. I'm a little fish in a very large pond. Throughout the year I've seen ways I could impact a difference, had numerous ideas for change and growth. From my spot in the classroom, I feel ineffective in this way. I offer suggestions, but don't have the time I would like to follow up and help out. And there's a fine line between being seen as helpful instead of snooty know-it-all - I often worry that my suggestions are seen as an edict of judgement, when my heart is simply coming from a love of innovation.
There is so much more I want to do, so much I have to share -- but for now, I'm trying to be content with my four walls. I'm trying to be at peace with the relationships I've created with my 37 young readers and writers, because I know that the work we do is important. I'm trying to be patient.
I'd like to throw out a call to action that as educators, we live in a No Fear Zone - no matter what. That we hold true to what we know is right and good for learners, and let go of the fear that drives nonsense instruction. It seems these days that everywhere I look, it's fear that is looking back at me.
Fear of The Test.
Fear of The Budget. (or lack thereof)
Fear of The Administrative Expectations.
Instead of fear driving our decisions, why not ask questions and conduct our own research? Why not stand firm on your research-based beliefs?
I became a teacher not because of what I feared, but because of what I believed. And at the core, those beliefs have not changed. Grown, adapted, flourished. But they will not fall away, because they are at the core of who I am. To deny my beliefs is to deny my self. A teacher without an identity is definitely something worth fearing -- but I will not lose that, no matter what.
I believe that all learners have the right to learn at the pace, ability, and style which works best for them. I believe that all teachers have the right to practice their art in the way which best enlightens their learners, because those needs will change from year to year, day to day, and often minute by minute. This is why teaching is more art than science. Different days require different brushstrokes, different mediums. I believe that when I stand in front of a classroom filled with eager minds or sit elbow to elbow with a fragile writer, it is my obligation and my privilege to treat their learning with empathy and a tender touch. I believe that above and beyond any academic requirement, the best thing I can give my learners each day is a sense of purpose and identity.
I believed this 14 years ago when I first stepped into a classroom and I believe it still holds true today.
I will not compromise my core beliefs.
Show me research. Show me proven instructional techniques and brain-based methods that engage learners. Show me a thriving classroom. Then let those facts guide my instruction.
I became a teacher not because of what I feared, but because of what I believed. I refuse to become a fear-based teacher.
I read about what is going on in our country and wonder why. I listen to teachers complain that they are spending time on things they know do not matter in exchange for expectations they do not understand or condone and I wonder why.
Why do intelligent, creative, professional men and women continue to try on shoes that simply do not fit? Who is the Prince Charming they are trying to win over?
Because this is the truth, and it is the only truth that matters: the only person we should be trying to win over is our learners. Young or old. Their succes as humans on this Earth is the only thing that matters. Not tests, not scores, not ratings, not budgets, not programming or any other thing in a school day that fills a day of learning.
Learners matter.
Learning matters.
People, infant to elderly, they matter.
And our beliefs? Those matter.
If we hold true to what matters, we can't possibly go wrong.
So it's the end of week 4 and I've just wrapped up my reading of Tovani's So What Do They Really Know?
So much of this book resonated with me! I struggle daily with the decisions I make, especially now that I am in more of a traditional school that requires weekly percentage based grades be entered in an online grading book. I definitely miss the days when my narrative reports, portfolios, and mastery-based grading were the norm! But reading Tovani's book helped me to think about why my beliefs matter, and gave me the extra push I need to continue assessing and grading in a way that I feel accurately shows my learners' understanding and progress.
Here are some highlights that spoke to me from the last three chapters!
Chapter 5
Favorite quote:
The inability to annotate something related to the reading alerts learners that their minds have wandered, which gives them an opportunity to go back and reread before their thoughts stray to far from the text.
There were several great quotes in this chapter, but this one in particular brought some important reflections about my own learners. Often, I find that they don't even seem to realize that they have checked out, let their mind wander, or are confused about the text. I've used annotations to look at mentor texts for writing, and when we look at a shared poem or other small text -- but not to the extent that I would like. In Tovani's classroom, she pairs an anchor text that the whole class reads with several shorter texts that students can choose from -- this is how she offers choice in her classroom. I'm still struggling to find a way to have more texts we can annotate together, as my learners are reading novels during their independent reading time. This is something I need to think through. I would love to offer more engaging texts to go alongside their Texas history textbook, but these have been difficult to find. One thing I think might work is offering texts that are companion pieces to the read alouds from class. We just finished Applegate's The One and Only Ivan, which appealed to everyone in class! During the reading, I found several articles about the real Ivan -- the gorilla the book is based on. We did annotate one of these texts together, which proved to be a wonderful learning experience. In the future, a little more forward planning could help me be better prepared to offer this type of companion piece texts -- and I can let them do some annotating on their own, after some modeling, of course! I'm eager to see how this works in my 4th grade classroom.
Chapter 6
Favorite quote:
Conferring is a talent that can take years to develop. Don't get discouraged, though. To kids, even a teacher who confers badly is better than one who doesn't do it at all.
This is a quote I want to pin in every teacher's classroom all around the globe. I can't even begin to recall the many conversations I have had with teachers of all grade and experience levels about the difficulties when conferring. They are afraid to say the wrong thing, not sure what to say, not sure how to be effective. But the truth is, any help is better than no help at all -- as long as we are mindful that the learner is a person first -- each of them deserves the same amount of kindness we would give a friend in the same situation. When I talk to a friend about a book or a piece of writing, I listen first and comment second. I nudge for more information. I encourage. I give a snippet of advice. And that's pretty much it.
That's how I think about conferring with learners, both as readers and writers. I want to know what they think, where they struggle, what questions they have, and where they want to go next. I can't know these things unless I am clued in to what they are thinking, and this means meeting with or offering feedback to my learners daily. The "History of the Mob" graded social studies test that is shared on page 124 just about broke my heart. Whenever I sit and talk with a child, the most important thing in my mind is, "First, do no harm."
I often find myself guilty of something mentioned in this chapter, though. Not wanting to interrupt a reader that is "in the zone" I will look over his or her shoulder, see where they are in the reading and what they are writing, but not stop to talk. This is my area to work on! I also think I could use some purposeful thought when it comes to planning some mini-lesson time during conferences. I often bog myself down with worry about how to find time for mini-lessons on all the skills I feel are needed by my learners -- but I can reduce my own stress by doing some of these lessons as conferences with the students that need it most.
Chapter 7
"Grading is Killing Me" is such a fitting title for a chapter on grades! I feel this way all the time. I struggle with assigning numbers to writing, toil over how to best reflect the progress of my readers in a grade, and wind myself up into knots every time I sit down to grade. This chapter gave me some great points to remember as I plan for assessments and grading.
Favorite quote(s):
When the top consideration for grading is how easily it can be managed, we lose what matters most -- understanding and the ability to think critically.
Art Costa, founding director of the Institute for Habits of Mind, has said: "What was educationally significant but hard to measure has been replaced by what is educationally insignificant and easy to measure. So now we measure how well we've taught what isn't worth learning."
These two statements, along with the following information on how Tovani assigns grades throughout the year, were the exact words I needed to read this year. Learning matters. Growth matters. Understanding matters. And recording that progress in the most accurate way possible? Yeah, that matters too.
So when I'm questioned about my grading policies and beliefs, I'm pointing to these quotes. And I can tell anyone asking that I grade in the beginning of the year for how my learners "attempt and complete" the work. It was refreshing to read this section! I nearly flung the book at my husband and shouted, "I do this!! At the beginning of the year I was in tears and frustrated and this is what I came up with! Woohoo!"
Grading is still a struggle, and it will continue to be. But at least now I feel a little more confident about my practices. And I have a plan to carry me forward throughout the rest of the year.
Final Thoughts
Much of the material in this book is aimed at middle and high school teachers. With a little thought and creativity, I believe that these same principles work in the elementary classroom. In fact, Tovani herself says that many of her assessment beliefs came with her from her years in the elementary classroom.
I'm thankful I came across this book through the Stenhouse Summer Blogstitute. This school year is challenging everything I believe in -- I need a staple of strong mentor teachers to look to so that I can continue to say, "Yes! That's exactly why I am doing what I do!"
This is definitely a book I will go to again and again, whenever I find myself getting lost in the politics of school. We all need a little affirmation to keep us headed in the right direction. Encouragement isn't just for our learners -- we need it too!
Go check out Book Journey for more reading awesomeness!
I'm finding a good balance between moments when I think, "Yes! Why haven't I thought of that before? I'm doing that tomorrow!" and "Woot! Tovani and I could be teaching BFF's! I do that all the time!"
Okay, I never promised you a well-structured stuffy book review when I said I wanted to use this for a book study. Suffice it to say, when I'm excited about something, it shows!
Chapter 3
Favorite quote:
Whether learners are struggling, gifted, or in between, they all deserve a year's worth of growth.
I think she may have written this quote just for me. This year I have two classes -- my morning class consists mainly of students that struggle in several areas, receive Special Education services, or are somewhere in the middle of the RTI process. My afternoon class has students that are typically high achieving and/or in the Gifted and Talented program. And of coure I have my kiddos that are sitting right in the middle academically but each have their own set of special gifts and skills.
So. Yeah. I wholeheartedly believe they each deserve every ounce of growth I can help them achieve. I work hard to make sure none of our time or efforts are wasted.
I enjoyed the overview of the workshop model -- I mean, sure, I've seen it before. I believe in its effectiveness. But the truth is, as I get busy with meeting timelines and upcoming tests and the system in which we all must live, I often start to veer off-course. This was a good reminder of why I believe in this mode of instruction: the students do the work! It makes sense that when students are the ones working, they are the ones learning! I need to make sure I give them enough time each day to do the hard work of learning.
The curriculum flow map she shares on page 43 was also helpful to me. Since this is my first year as a departmentalized teacher, I'm really struggling to reign in my schedule and routine! I have less than two hours each day with my guys for reading, writing, and social studies. Although the system she has in place for her high school students won't quite work for me in 4th grade, I do want to try making a special bookshelf or area in the room where I can include supplemental texts for students to read and share in a similar way.
So my first goal is to stay on-track with the time to work that I give my students! I'll report back on how I do this week in my next reflection.
Chapter 4
The first thing that popped out at me in Chapter 4 was the learning targets and assessments table. In my school district, we have to post daily objectives and products. The objective is what we will learn together and the product is how the student will show their learning before they leave class. I like doing this because it keeps us all on track, so it was neat to see it in Tovani's book!
I haven't used the inner voice sheets yet, and honestly, I'm not a big fan of making that many copies. We do have reader's notebooks and my students keep notes about their reading, but I call it our reading palette. Whenever I do a read aloud they keep notes, but it looks a little different from the Figure 4.2 on Annotation in Chapter 4. My class creates a table with 4 boxes. Each box is for a different thing, and sometimes I vary what I have them title the boxes, but normally it looks like this:
Questions
Connections
Predictions/Thoughts on what is happening
Word Love (a place to capture words, phrases, sentences that their writing ear appreciates)
Alternatively, I tell my kiddos to sketch pictures with captions of what they see in their mind as I read. So I guess we are doing something similar to her inner voice sheet! I go back and forth on having them do this during their own reading, because I really want them in "the reading zone" (gotta throw out a little Atwell love, of course). I felt better about this after I read about her work with Raymond, who didn't want to stop and write while he read. She struck a compromise with him and he writes a little during the last five minutes of reading time. This way he gets to stay in the zone, and she can still get an idea of where he is as a reader. Great balance!
The other part that jumped out at me in this chapter was about debriefing. I am guilty about cutting out the debriefing when we are running short on time. In the future, I'm making a note to myself to try partner debriefing! In the beginning of the year my students hadn't experienced much time working cooperatively with other students, so we have worked very hard to get to a place where we can have conversations about our learning. I think we are ready to try debriefing this way! We also have a Twitter Wall for exit tickets, but I think I need to be a little more deliberate in what I ask them to write each day before they leave. I like Tovani's idea to have students write one question they still have before leaving. Another idea to try this week!
And here's my favorite quote, although it may not seem very important to anyone else!
The evidence I collect isn't very fancy.
This seven word sentence says so much! My evidence is not fancy -- I have sticky notes, pictures, audio clips, scribbled bits of conversations, conversation calendars, conferring notes saved in Evernote -- just bits and pieces of our days, held digitally and on paper. But this is real. Real kids, real moments, real work, real learning.
It doesn't have to be fancy for it to matter. Just keep it real!
I would love to write a slice today,
but...
There are 37 students taking their first four hour unit test tomorrow. And their second the day after that. And their third the day after that.
So forgive me if my heart is a little too full of concern for these kiddos for me to concentrate on anything else.
There are 19 students in dire need of assistance they just aren't getting, and no matter how far I stretch what I can do in one classroom, I'm just not meeting their needs in the way I would like. So forgive me if my heart is a little too overwhelmed to concentrate on anything else today.
I have visions of NaNoWriMo swirling in my head. Broken bits, like splices of film flip flopping apart through my mind, pieces that want to tell a story that I just can't quite mend.
Because there are 4 students with Autism in my room working far below grade level that desperately need consistent one on one attention to be successful. If I could, I would sit all day with these guys and I know that real learning would happen. As it is, I do the best I can, but it never feels like enough.
I asked for help trying to determine how to do a better job.
I was told it was impossible.
So there it is.
Every day, I go to work to accomplish the impossible.
So forgive me if my words are scattered, my heart is broken for my students, and my mind is swirling Texas-tornado style.
This summer, I followed the Stenhouse Summer Blogstitute. A variety of amazing authors posted on their blog each week and readers were asked to respond in the comments. If the wealth of information shared in the blog posts wasn't enough of a reason to follow, anyone that shared a comment each week was entered into a drawing to win five (5, people!!) Stenhouse titles.
I could not be more pleased with my selection! After reading the first few chapters, I realized I wanted to share what I was reading with some of my teacher friends. And this little bloggy book study was born. This week I reread chapters 1 & 2, highlighting the points that stood out to me.
Chapter One
Here's a favorite quote from the first two chapters (found in chapter one):
"Teachers don't need any more numerical 'data.' What they need is validation to use the data that matters most--like student work and student talk--to help them figure out next steps for the learners in their educational care."
I connect to this book on several levels -- her sour taste for assessment along with the desire to really know her students quickly grabbed my interest. I feel exactly the same way. But I do like that right away she lets the reader know she doesn't feel like assessment deserves all the blame:
"I realized that assessment wasn't the enemy; it was the way it was being used to judge and punish instead of inform and help educators get smarter about teaching and learning."
I also thought her comparison between multiple choice tests and open-ended questions was spot on! Just because a student can ace a multiple choice test does not mean they know the material. I think the same is true in reverse. Who hasn't been completely bewildered or frustrated when a student bombs a test over material they know?
If you know me at all, you've probably seen my eye-rolling sneer when the topic of standardized testing comes up. I abhor the district benchmarks, grumble about the STAAR, and shake my head at any assessment that barely skims the surface of what my students know and the progress they have made from where we began. I really identified with Tovani's thoughts on how she had mostly ignored the assessments she was forced to give, even while feeling it wasn't the best way to handle things. I often feel the same way. Finding a balance between the standardized testing students must take and my personal feelings on assessment is a difficult thing for me!
Chapter one ended with our first challenge -- write and define your definition of assessment. Again, this really challenges my over-analytic brain to make some concrete decisions! But if I have to put it in words, this is my working definition of assessment: any interaction or work example that shows a picture of what a student knows and understands at a given time. This can include what seems like an infinite number of possibilities. Audio clips, video, photographs, written work, blog posts ... really, anything that I can use to inform me on where my student is and what they need from me to grow -- that's assessment.
Chapter Two
You guys! I had a hard time narrowing down my favorite quote from this chapter, but here you go:
"When I know my students well, I am a better teacher."
This chapter involved a lot of fist pumping and excited book waving about in the air. I may have read sections to my husband and then stared at him all doe-eyed expecting him to engage me in deep, meaningful conversation about the importance of getting to know your students.
This did not happen.
Instead, I'll share here, because I know you guys will be much more excited. First of all, you need to know that I have been using the Conversation Calendars for about a month in my classroom. I love them! I started out letting students just write to me about anything they wanted. I was a little nervous, thinking they might not give me much to work with. I mean, I'm no Cris Tovani -- maybe those calendars are magical in her classroom, but in mine they were just going to be extra paper littering my classroom floor.
But wow -- I mean, honestly. Without the calendars, I wouldn't have learned that one of my students blames herself for her parents divorce. I wouldn't know the struggles one of them has every day with a difficult sibling. I wouldn't know many things. And they might not know how much I care. But every Tuesday and Thursday we write back and forth to each other and learn about one another and become a tighter community. It's golden. I just love it. Have I mentioned that already?
A couple weeks ago, I started asking them to write to me about the read aloud we're doing in collaboration with The Global Read Aloud. We're reading The One and Only Ivan and this is a book that practically begs for hours of rich discussion. It doesn't matter how much we discuss in class, everyone always has more to share. So we are sharing through the calendar and I am learning so much about them as people and as readers -- I know who is grasping the deeper themes and who is paying attention to word choice and figurative language. I can tell which of them could benefit from some note taking as I read (sticky notes, sketches, word captures, whatever works) and which do better to just sit and listen. It is a magical thing, but not just in Tovani's room. It's working in mine, too. When we finish this book, I'll have students start responding to their own reading. I'm excited to see where that leads us.
I feel strongly that student-teacher relationships make all the difference in the success of every student. Brain research tells us that all humans need to be enveloped in a safe environment for learning to take place. I work hard to make my students feel secure enough to take risks and explore learning.
The challenges in this chapter really stuck with me. It's so important that we show our students that we see them -- not just that they are a body in our classroom, but that we acknowledge their importance in the universe, and we respond to it.
Tovani's student surveys seem like a great way to let students know that you are invested in their success. Next week I plan to ask my students what they believe their role is as a reader. What do they think about all the reading we do? What importance do they put in it? I'm interested in those answers.
The challenge at the end of chapter two also included asking readers to make a list of student needs and to-do's. In my Evernote app, each student has a notebook with a list like this (created after my first read of this chapter). I love having this in the app, because anytime I learn something new about a student I can use my phone to enter new info into their note. Before reading about this, I always thought getting to know my students was something I was pretty good at. But having this ongoing list keeps it at the front of my mind, and I find I'm learning more about my students than ever before.
Next Week
For next week, read chapters three and four and be ready to share some more reflections!
As I mentioned the other day, I'm up to my eyeballs in reading! I would love some blogger help as I read Cris Tovani's So What Do They Really Know?, and that's where you come in, lovely reader!
I will begin reading on October 14, and post my reflections at the end of each week. The schedule will look something like this:
October 14-20
Read chapters 1-2, post reflectively on reading by October 21
October 21-27
Read chapters 3-4, post reflectively on reading by October 28
October 28-November 3
Read chapters 5-6, post reflectively on reading by November 4
November 4-10
Read chapter 7, post reflectively on reading by November 11
November 11
Google hangout discussion about the book!
If this sounds like something you're interested in, check out this form. I would love to have some friends to bounce ideas off of as we read! I'm thinking anyone participating could respond to my posts in the comments, and if you write your own post, you can leave those in the comments as well, so others can easily find you! I'm also considering a weekly twitterchat to talk about blog posts, but I think I'll know more about that by the time the end of the first week rolls around.
I've learned a lot in the past six weeks, but mostly, I've (re)learned this:
I believe in a reader’s right to choose.
Strike that, I believe in a child’s right to choose.
I believe in a child’s right to be treated like a person, not a statistic. Not a test grade.
Choose how they learn best.
Choose how they represent their learning.
Choose what they want to read.
Choose how they write.
I believe in choice.
The choice to teach in a way that lines up with your beliefs and meets the needs of your students.
I believe in standing firm on your principles.
I believe in change.
I believe when we offer students the opportunity to be great, they amaze us with their excellence.
I believe teaching is about people, not numbers.
I believe we have lost our way.
I believe there is a way back.
It is the still, quiet voice muffled beneath scores and paperwork and meetings and data.
The still, quiet voice that -- years ago -- urged you to become a teacher in the first place.
I believe that voice has a right to be heard.
And I believe we each have the strength to push that muffled voice from a whisper to a shout -- not just for ourselves; not for the weary eyes, aching feet, boggled brains and burnt out souls of all the teachers across the nation.
No, not only for them -- for me, for you.
I believe that voice has a right to be heard because our children deserve better.
They deserve rooms rich with conversation, laughter that rings through the halls, amazement in the pure joy of learning -- which, let’s be honest -- has been lost beneath the bubble sheets and reading passages and leveled books that bore would-be readers and scientists and Nobel Peace Prize winners at such extreme levels that we have shut down their minds.
I believe our children have the right to be allowed to learn.
I believe change is necessary.
And I believe change is impossible, unless we listen closely.
Listen closely to that still, quiet voice – the one that insists there is a better way.
Because there is. There is a way beyond boxed curriculum sets and test preparation. Beyond extrinsic rewards for minimal expectations. A way beyond what we have let education become.
And if you’ve forgotten your voice, if the demands placed on you have become so stringent that your passion for learning is barely a smoldering ember – put down your clipboard, leave the stacks of papers behind, push open that door and walk outside.
Seek out the playground.
Seek out the children digging in the dirt.
Seek out the boys on the basketball court and the girls doing cheers all lined up in the grassy field. (And yes, seek out the girls playing soccer and the boys reading beneath a tree.)
Seek out the Kindergarteners asking, asking, always asking for more.
Seek out the loner. The angry one. The kids poking bugs with sticks.
Seek out the wisdom in each child, the delight in their faces, the yearning for knowledge.
Fill your lungs with it. Smile, if just for a moment, remembering why you are doing this in the first place.
It's Monday! Huzzah! It's Monday and I'm sitting at home on my big comfy couch, surrounded by books.
You just gotta love a three day weekend, right?
I've been reading oodles of books lately, partially in hopes of finding the just right way to reach my new students in my new school where I feel a little like Alice and a little like Goldilocks, and a lot like Mr. Magoo.
So between the bumps and bruises of adjusting to my new school home, I read.
Recently, I've read quite a few fabulous middle grade novels, with a stack of promising reads to keep me busy for at least another month. Here's a sample of what I've read so far:
Somehow, between having students with really good taste, and some excellent timing, I've managed to read (or reread) a few delightful books by Sharon Creech throughout the month of September. Love That Dog will always remain a favorite for me -- combining poetry with dog love and a boy learning to love words? Yeah -- you got me. I hadn't planned to read it to my classes so early in the year, but they prodded me and it ended up being a perfect beginning for us. Afterwards, a student handed me Granny Torrelli Makes Soup, which I hadn't read before. I love how Creech weaves together past and present in this short but touching tale of friendship. I'll definitely be passing it along to more students!
And finally, I picked up a copy of the recently published The Great Unexpected. Interestingly, I heard a little bit of Rosie's voice from Granny Torrelli piping through in Naomi's best friend, Lizzie. I'm curious if anyone else heard that, as well! In The Great Unexpected, Creech tosses together folk tales with a little magic realism and a lot of love to create a story that any Creech follower is sure to appreciate. I know exactly which student I'll be handing this book to first thing tomorrow morning!
I also just finished Joan Bauer's Almost Home, which is as heartbreaking as it is endearing. I quickly fell in love with Sugar Mae Cole, the 12-year-old main character, and her tag along puppy, Shush. Exploring themes that perfectly spark #chooseKind conversations, Bauer also employs a variety of text genres. Readers will quickly understand how important words are in Sugar's world, while seeing models of letter writing, poetry, memoirs, and more. Within minutes of book talking this new title to my students, I had kids scrambling to be the first to read it. And now it's being passed from hand to hand. Almost Home is a beautiful story that any child with family struggles can relate to, and learn from.
Currently, I'm splitting my time between Grace Lin's Starry River of the Sky (I'm just on page 43) and an unwieldy stack of profession development books. My husband also keeps nudging Patrick Rothfuss' Wise Man's Fear at me, and on a good day, I read maybe a page of it at a time. I loved the first book in this trilogy, The Name of the Wind, but making time for this type of epic fantasy is hard for me these days! And even with as much as I am reading these days, my to-read stack just keeps growing... I need a vacation to catch up on my reading! Does this sound familiar?
The thing I love about reading this much is how it seems to effect my students. Each Monday we sit together and set a reading goal -- they hold me to mine, and I hold them to their goals, too. And when the following Monday arrives, if anyone hasn't met their goal they are expected to know why and have a solution. If they don't have a solution, our class community of readers offers suggestions. It's powerful to watch them transform each week from this simple conversation. So for as long as my nightly reading seems to inspire them to keep chugging along, I will keep reading. I don't know how many reader role models they have in their lives, but at least they can't count on me as one.
While I have all these books spinning wildly about, I feel like I need to do something to ground myself in what I'm learning through my PD books. From October 14 through November 11, I'll be reading Cris Tovani's So What Do They Really Know? and posting each week to reflect on my reading. I'd like to invite you to join me. Comment if you're interested -- I'll post details tomorrow! (Be thinking weekly posts, twitter chat opportunities, and maybe even a google hangout to chat n' learn!) What say you, readers? Do you have time to spend a minute filling out this form so we can read and share together?
There are grades (they don't matter, anyway)
lesson plans (I'll change them the minute the kids walk in the door)
papers to file (just like any other day)
a 3 mile run that doesn't seem likely (there's always tomorrow?)
and a stack of books that want reading (I miss you!)
But I'm not doing the things I should be doing.
I'm researching a culture,
because of a boy
who doesn't know his last name.
Today we explored poetry and talked about identity and shared our name stories.
Only...
Only -- in this new school,
it was presumptuous to expect them to know.
So I'm researching,
and I'm learning,
and eventually,
I'll get to all the things I should be doing.
On Thursday, I'll walk into the Admin office of a new school district, sign my name on (several) dotted lines, and become a 4th grade Language Arts teacher at a scaryterrifyingunfamiliarforeign new school. It's been one of those crazy unexpected possibilities that seem to keep popping up -- an interview in a school district I hadn't anticipated working for, a job offer at a school that I didn't mean to fall in love with, a position doing the things I love most: sharing my passion for reading and writing with children that are learning what it means for them to be independent readers and writers.
There's not much to complain about.
In fact, this all fell together so easily that the panicky parts of me are still spinning; waiting for the punchline.
But if nothing else, I know this much is true: this August, I begin a new adventure.
And I am so very ready (blessed, lucky, fortunate, unbelievably giddy) to follow this path wherever it may lead.
Doubts be damned.
“Our doubts are traitors and make us lose the good we oft might win, by fearing to attempt.”
Shakespeare -- Measure for Measure (Act 1, Scene IV)
While each of these felt monumental in my growth as a writer and a teacher, I think I've learned the most about myself through our new critique group.
People. Let's be honest. Sharing your writing is hard to do. It's not like sharing a recipe, or a good shoe sale, or a brownie -- although, honestly, sharing brownies is pretty hard, also.
But sharing writing is different. We see it in our kids at school -- at the beginning of the year, when I offer the opportunity for author's chair, I am met with a resounding silent wall of dread. It takes time for them to dip their toes in and realize there are no sharks waiting to snatch them off to the deep, dark terror they are anticipating.
As adults, although we like to consider ourselves all grown up and mature and stuff, it's not so different.
For our first round of critiques, I shared my picture book manuscript with the group. There were a few good reasons for this: it's short, it's been through some revisions already so it's a quick and easy piece for me to work on, I reeeaaalllllly want to get it out into the hands of publishers, and I don't have a high level of emotional attachment to this particular piece. It wasn't blood, sweat, and tears to write. It's uber low-threat on the share factor.
And the critiques came back exactly as expected. They saw the same places I had noted that needed changes. They gave excellent advice. It was a nice, safe exchange.
But again. Let's be honest. It was a nice, safe exchange because I am scared to release my YA novel's hand and let it go skipping merrily down the street to meet other people all alone! In fact, after finally rereading it to begin revisions, I realized there is so much more work I want to do with it (so much that needs doing!) -- and I basically wilt when I think of showing it to anyone in its current state of imperfection.
In fact, I've been so upset over the necessary revisions on this novel, that I have pretty much ignored it for the past two months. Basically, I'm hiding it in a closet until I can deal. It's good I don't handle parenting the same way I handle writing. Yipes.
However, serendipitous as my life has been lately, even though I have attempted to shove that sucker in the closet and move on to new things, my precious novel won't give up. It's in the latest news stories I see snippets of on Twitter and FaceBook, it's singing to me through my favorite songs, it's waving to me from books I am reading, and it's bubbling up and sitting right beside me in my dreams.
Apparently, my sweet little novel has decided she's done spending time in the closet.
Hai. My name is Kelly. And I am an Insecure Writer. And next Monday, when it is time to submit pages for critique, I am going to send in my baby -- the first chapters of this novel that won't let me go -- and although it may hurt, I am going to grow because of it.
After taking a little no-blogging, no-tweeting break (a girl needs some time to herself after 2 months of back to back daily blogging!), I was beyond thrilled with what I found when I popped back out of my cave today.
Corey Dahl had tweeted a TED video of Angela Maiers that is absolutely inspirational. Don't believe me? Watch for yourself:
I've been following Angela since I found her "Habitudes" through the 2010 Reform Symposium (aka most amazing online professional development experience EVER). She is one of those speakers that just gives me chills because of the bold truth in her words. I hope you'll check out her site and follow her on twitter. I promise you'll be every bit as appreciative of her wisdom as I am.
You Matter.
Brilliant. And do you know even one single person that doesn't want to know that they matter? I certainly don't. In fact, I think most of us walk around wanting to matter to someone, in some way. (Wearing that sign, big or small.)
Maybe this feels especially meaningful right now because -- here we are again, the end of another school year -- stress is high, people are busy, frustration thresholds are low.
We need to know we matter. We need to know our genius is appreciated. And I am so thankful I popped back into the twitosphere today to hear Angela's words -- to remember the precious gift I can give each student, teacher, and parent I see, by simply letting them know I see them. By letting them know they matter. (And my family! They need to hear it, too. They need to know they matter.)
I find much hope in the thought of how significantly changed any workplace can be, when focused on finding the genius in one another instead of singling out the unappreciated differences and problems.
Focused on solutions, not problems.
Focused on what matters.
Focused on building each other up.
Focused on delighting in one another's genius.
It's a happy thought to finish this school year with.
