I guess for some teachers that means the end of vacation. For me, August is inherent with reflection, planning, and oddly high credit card bills. My brain is ready to go back and my wallet needs to stay away from Manhattan and Starbucks.
I’m left thinking about what routines, what structures, and what assessments I really want to pack into that first week of school. I’ve downloaded curricular calendar after curricular calendar, and I’m packing my brain full of first month of school non-negotiables.
In Reading Workshop for Week One I’m thinking
-Volume Matters, kids make a plan of the next 6 books they’ll tackle (see things I’ve learned from my coworker S.Gardner)
-Model Reading Log Possibilities (More on this in the next post)
-Establish Reading Partners & Model talking about books
-Read Aloud A Picture Book or Two
-Reading Survey
In Writing Workshop for Week One I’m thinking
-PreAssessment, kids showing off their best writing skills
-Spelling Inventory
-Making Writing Portfolio Folders
-Generating Ideas to journal from
-How to set a up a journal page
-Establish writing partners & model talking about writing
-Writing Survey
And that’s just the start…
I’ll need to show them where to keep their tools and how to organize/respect our room. I’ll need to show them how to move the desks quickly when we sit on the floor, and how to move them back quickly to begin working. I’ll need to discuss technology, and how to respect it within the classroom.
There is more, I mean I can’t really even begin to tell you the more, because if you’re a teacher like me the more has started to wake you up in the night. What I’m recommending is starting your non-negotiable lists now. Then come the first day of school you can focus on helping kids open their lockers and learning their names, rather than planning some strange get to know you game that has nothing to do with your curriculum anyway. Happy Planning!
Sometimes when I’m generating small moment story ideas with my students, we use the strategy: People, Places, Stories. We think of places and people and then list the stories we have with them. Walking back through the door of Benchmark this week, I was flooded with memories; I could sketch out the grounds of this place and provide story after story, from year after year of my life.
I remember the joy I found in the art room with Carol, she would set me loose with clay or markers and let me create to my hearts content, in the little smelly room at the end of the hall.
I remember the mezzanine, up the scary stairs, and the yellow plastic chair that I sat on when they did summer school testing for me. I was certain I had read every one of the words right on the list, and I do remember them being quite proud of me (looking at my leveled color in the library today, I’m fearful I may not have been as accurate as I thought).
I remember the weeks before school started, having the whole playground to myself and how I could sing really really loud on the swings without anyone (see older brother) teasing me.
I remember the lunchroom, where I dreamed and dreamed that Dr.M might cast me to be in, “You’re A Good Man Charlie Brown.”
I remember Mr.Reichart letting me keep score for the kids in gym class, and I remember always messing up the score. And how I thought I would never make it to the top when I climbed the rock wall, and I almost started to cry at the bottom, but my brother was there telling me I could.
This week, I’ve been watching Megan Wonderland’s amazing daughter, Kayla, run in and out from camp with her perfectly sweet smile. I keep thinking of the adventures she’ll have in this place— I keep thinking of what it was like for me to grow up with a teacher as mom.
And I want to whisper to Kayla, “Isn’t it perfect, this place? How many books, and supplies, and places to hide, and isn’t it perfect how the middle schoolers love you the best because they know your mom?”
Sometimes it’s hard to grow up as a kid when your mom’s a teacher— they grade papers, plan lessons, and read books— all the time. Sometimes you have to share your mom’s heart with other kids, because they need extra love and it’s your mom’s job to do it. And there are times in the year when she’ll be so exhausted from kids or parents that she’ll come home and not really want to play with you, or she’ll use the scary teacher voice on you.
But when your mom’s a teacher, all your storybooks come alive cause her voices can’t be beat. And when your mom’s a teacher you can curl up in her lap longer cause she has to stay still to grade those papers. When your mom’s a teacher she knows how to play and be silly better than boring grown-up moms. Mostly, it’s perfect when your mom’s a teacher, because you learn that even though school might be hard for you—you get to run through the halls of this school barefoot and nobody cares.
If your mom’s not a teacher, you probably missed out. If you’re a teacher and raising kids, I’m impressed, but I also want to tell you, as the kid of a teacher, I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
As a teacher and natural organizer, I love and maybe even crave structure. It makes me feel safe and lets me know what to expect. A predictable mealtime, the order I put hair products into my untamable curls (prep, cream, mouse, shine), dentist appointments six months apart on the 14th of August & February—this is not normal, but at least I’m upfront about it?
Needless to say, when we started to analyze the structure of memoirs, I was both happy and nervous to hear that not every story follows the “plot diagram” we teachers love to present to our students. Plot diagrams, they’re easy to teach, but they easily fall apart in the face of real literature. Not every story is as neatly packaged as I would like it to be, but that’s the beauty of a story—of life—inviting people in journeying together in the unstructured uncertainty of at all.
But sometimes we can use a little direction, from someone who has done it before, someone willing to lead the way (in this case a published author). So, in looking at short sections from mentor texts, we formed maps—short little diagrams of a craft moves.
From one text we found a string of pearls, —o—o—o—o—o—o— Short and beautiful moments of life held together with a common theme.
From another a series of events story told, A–>B–>C–>D
And from yet another, “Quotes”+ Reflection–> “Quotes” + Reflection
There were more texts, more patterns, and a room full of teachers looking from above at a text and mapping it out however they saw fit. Just seeing a pattern helped me to see purposeful craft moves that I could make, because even though my story wasn’t exactly the same, there was still much to learn.
The structure gave me something to hold onto, got me out of feeling so stuck in my writing, so while the reflecting was hard, it had a place in my story and I would have to go there to make the piece effective.
I wrote all that to say a few things:
Wow, the impact of just a few carefully chosen mentor texts.
Imagine the power of letting students create their own map & follow it.
Being teachable— in writing, in reflecting, in journeying—Beauty.
Coming up with an idea, something I needed to write about, that wasn’t hard. In fact, I easily produced at least five pretty quality topics I could have used. Even then, collecting story seeds around my idea wasn’t hard either. For a few of my topics, I had well over ten pages of writing. But then I had to name the issue, or the common theme throughout the seeds that I would be able to weave into my memoir.
It was in this process of searching and reflecting that I realized this was a project where I could face hard things head on or choose something easy and go through the motions (much like the book report I did on Rachel Carson every year throughout elementary, middle, and high school). But, you don’t travel from PA to New York, pay to go to Columbia, and fork over NYC rent to write a piece that tells you the something you already knew.
Now I’m going to take a second and pause, I’m not sharing my final piece with you. I don’t want to get your hopes up with all this reflecting and then have you be disappointed in the end. I’ve already shared the piece out as far as it goes, which pretty much means the people in my class, and Jess (my writing partner from home), oh and little baby Siena & her awesome momma Michele because they were there for one of the torturous revision sessions I put myself through. Sometimes we (our students too) need to write and not share it with the world. For me the topic I ended up picking is a little too raw to share with everyone, at points it felt too raw for me. So, while I wish I could share some amazing piece with you, know this—I tackled hard stuff, I grew.
Okay back to the process. Once I found the topic that I needed to write about, I asked myself the hard questions, I boxed out the parts of the stories that revealed what I was trying to say. We began to study mentor texts, to see how other authors had done the same thing that we were trying to do.
At this point I began to use a few tricks that we were seeing in mentor texts.
Reflection- using questioning within the text
All the time- this is how it always would go; he would or she would always
One time- but this one day
Symbols & Metaphor
And because I am a classic version of the overachiever, I used all of them.
Even just typing this out, I am amazed at the process, and how much thinking I was forced to do. Somewhere in the middle of all this, we revised for structure. We had been doing a lot of up close looking at the text and working within reflection for so long that I had almost forgotten to pull myself away and analyze the story structure.
The story structure thing, it was pretty huge for me, so I’m going to stop here and save that for its own blog. It deserves it.
It’s Saturday morning and I owe you myself a little bit more in the way of reflection on this past week (umm where did this week go? & I may never come back).
Let me start by saying, there is something crucial to writing, the way it helps us remember, process, and pause. One of the best parts of this week at Columbia may not have been the way I learned to teach my students, but rather the way I learned to teach myself.
In my morning class, with Sara Kugler, we focused on memoir. Memoir is different from personal narrative in that while a personal narrative is written from the perspective of the main character experiencing the event for the first time, a memoir is written from where the author is today looking back—it includes the truth of your experience.
Sara quoted Katherine Bomer often in class, which pretty much captured my heart from the beginning . . .
We write memoir to break the silence surrounding who we are.
We write memoir to awaken the I.
We write memoir to bear witness.
Maybe it was then that I realized I was in the right place. This is the writing my heart needs and fears at the same time. This is the writing my kids need me to show them. I would pay close attention. I would learn how to teach and pull from my kids. I would allow myself to be taught and pulled.
Then the assignment: go the places you don’t usually let yourself go.
I have to say it was hard for me, not hard like I really had to focus hard, hard like I sat for what felt like hours with pen in hand doing nothing but crossing out the previously written word.
But, just because something is hard or just because my pen wasn’t writing as fast as it normally does, doesn’t mean I wasn’t learning, doesn’t mean it wasn’t exactly what I needed.
Today I learned about pronouns, code-switching, and Beyoncé. It’s a long day; we cover a lot of ground.
Pronouns: Pronouns have always been close to my heart. Well, to be honest I probably firmly learned what a pronoun is last year, but I’ve always loved them, even without knowing their proper label. Why? Because they’re so telling. I love the moment in a relationship when you’re no longer you or I, but we or us. If you’ve been around me enough you’ve probably heard me comment, “love the pronoun,” especially when I see the move to a we or us. Weird, I know.
Today, when we were thinking of ways to revise our memoir pieces, looking at mentor texts, we noticed that sometimes authors will purposely switch from We to I or They to We as a craft move. Using these words influenced the reader’s connection with the text. As I looked through my piece, I noticed there were places I wanted my reader to connect with me in my reflection and other places where I felt the need to stand apart. By playing with the pronouns, I was able to create this effect in different places within my piece.
Code-Switching: This topic was actually covered in more than one of my classes today. And while I have addressed this topic with some of my kids before, it was never with any more intention than passing on some teacherly good advice. Code-Switching is simply this, when people make choices to change the way they speak, act, dress, or write depending on the audience. When I was in middle school this would have been called being a poser. Now, I realize it’s just smart. It’s also smart to have this conversation with our kids.
Let’s face it, when I’m with my friends I talk one-way, but when I’m working on business my vocabulary changes. In fact I dress differently at work, at church, and at home—and it’s purposeful. I’m not being a poser; I’m being smart. In writing, the way I write this blog is different than how I would write a research paper or a business plan. Having this conversation with kids, and then having them practice code-switching with different audiences in mind gives them valuable tools for the future.
Beyoncé: One of the things I have become more aware of this year and this week is that I need to pay more attention to the media, pop-culture, and maybe play a few video games? Anyway, I laughed when my teacher put the music video “Single Ladies” on the screen and asked us to generate ideas for writing from it. But seriously, what a great idea!
Nonfiction: How to Walk in Heals
Narrative: A story about a time you tried really hard for a long time but still couldn’t make work
Poetry: How it feels to be loved
Persuasive: Why it is important to respect women
Comic: Guy is a jerk. Girl finds new Super Guy with Ring.
The whole Beyoncé thing makes me laugh, but you could do it with any video and if the kids all share-out their ideas, someone is likely to grab something great. It’s the end of— I don’t know what to write about today!
As it turns out, both Stacy & I are away at conferences this week. If you’ve never been to a great summer conference, I would check one out. Last year, I did the Kutztown one the Stacy is at, and I loved it. This year, I’m opting for two weeks at Columbia—it doesn’t really matter where you go, just go. There is something about being in a community of people who are all excited about teaching that gives you new ideas and new courage to take risks in your classroom.
I thought I would have been posting Monday, seeing as I am so excited to share with you. As it turns out, I had forgotten about having homework and still trying to live like a New Yorker and how tired that makes me. So, here it is day three, I’m still not done tomorrow’s homework, but I wanted to pull out something from the 50 pages of notes I’ve taken so far.
Goal Setting. I’ve known it was important since, well since forever, my Mom does teach at Benchmark after all! I can set goals for myself with my eyes closed, but writing goals have been another story. Truth, I’m still not where I want to be when it comes to writing conferences. Truth, I’ve come a long way. What I was reminded of today was something I learned at Benchmark years ago and had forgotten to take into my conferences this year. Goal setting should be teacher directed at first, but the job should be gradually released to the students. Clearly, this will be easier for some students than others, but independence in goal setting is crucial to developing a writerly life.
So, here are my notes from my morning session with the AmAzInG, Sara Kugler
Goal Setting
Identify Writing Goal- based on the qualities of writing. It should be big—across a whole unit and multiple genres
Choose a mentor text that will help you
Study mentor text for- What, How, Why or What Effect
Apply it to your writing
Somehow I’ll get around to writing more, and if for some reason I don’t get around to it while I am up here, I promise to keep the happiness coming as soon as I get home.
My brother tells me I’m getting a little sappy on here—who knew my brother read these anyway? But since he is my big brother, and he stopped locking me in Mom’s closet at least ten years ago, I’ll take his advice and get down to business.
It is business I’m writing about today, or I’ve been writing about? For the past week I’ve been working hard to write a business plan for a new business I’m starting with a friend. I love writing, so I thought this would be a great way to kick of the summer; I was wrong.
Why? Because I’m a teacher, all the classes I’ve ever taken have been geared toward that. I can write a research report on any topic in the educational field and still hold true to my natural writer’s voice and style. But, this business plan? Nope, it painfully ripped style and voice straight from my brain. It also didn’t help that I had never even read a business plan before, the vocabulary was new or at least uncertain—even the format confused me. I struggled.
So here was my process.
Google Business Plan
Read online advice & online examples
Attempt to start writing on my own
Run to Barnes and Noble and buy “My First Business Plan”
Begin to write 24 page Business plan while holding book in my hand and using Merriam-Webster Dictionary app on my cell phone every five minutes
Drink wayyyy too much coffee at local Starbucks
Complain
Read over first six pages with business partner
Call a friend who knows more than I do
Repeat steps 5-7
Finish 24 page Business Plan
Even just looking at that list kills me. It was such a painful process; I felt so confused. And then I got to thinking, is this what happens to our kids when we ask them to write something new? Something hard? How do they make it?
I know I pressed on because I was working on something I believed in, because I knew that I needed this document to further the company that I’m passionate about. If I was not passionate about the company I would have given up at step three.
How do we keep our students going when the genre is new, difficult, or confusing? We give the writing, or the project, or whatever it is real value. And then we keep encouraging them like crazy.
I’ve been teaching full time for six years; I love my job more now than I ever have. If you had told me that when I was twenty years old walking into my first class as Drew McCorkell’s support teacher, I would have laughed in your face. As things progress they tend to get mundane, or routine at the least. But at six years in, I don’t think I will ever use those words to describe my job or my heart for it.
This morning I finally sat down with the bags. I’d like to think all teachers have this day or this time where you sit down and unpack all that you deemed worthy of bringing home for the summer. For me, it usually takes a week or so to motivate myself to do it. Probably mostly because I have no idea where I’ll put all that stuff for the summer, but also in part because I know I’ll start seeing my kids in those bags and in the beginning I’m just not ready too sad for that.
And then I found the folders, labeled with their blocks, containing handwritten feedback happy kid notes from my students writers. Soon the floor was covered in their writing, and the tissue box was sitting next to me. Of all the assignments I give in a typical year, this one is the most selfish. I know that; I don’t care. I tell them to write me, what they loved and what they hated about the year so that I would know what to change and what to keep—then I throw onto the end, add in anything else you want to tell me, no rules at all.
This year’s end result were notesfromhappystudents, and of course since I am ahappyteacher I couldn’t have been more pleased or moved by the power of their words. If you’ve never had your students write you notes, if you’ve never written someone a note of encouragement, sit down—write—it breathes life into unspoken truths.
So I’m going to leave you today with a unique note written by one of my writers— she caught me off guard with this style—she had tears in my eyes before the first comma, because in the end, each year is like its own fairy tale, my childhood dreaming, my adult reality.
Dear Miss Smith,
Once upon a time, there was a teacher who cared about her class. She taught from her heart and her mind was so connected to them, it was so unreal. She made them feel so safe and secure, as if they could never get hurt. Her class was like a big sanctuary of secrets. Only her students knew what was up.
She showed them videos of what her neighbors had to say, and videos of poets who inspired their eyes word by word. Like someone who had them all brainwashed. Only for the good. Because truly they were the stars. The ones shining above the rest. Each and every day.
And they glistened in her eyes as she watched them grow and become writers instead of kids who scribbled their minds across a blank page. She crafted them. She molded her students into better people inside and out of the classroom. She told them continuously, over and over, like a broken record, that they were special. That they could easily make a difference in this world. They didn’t believe her at first. But now they do. And some of them believe in themselves. All because she dedicated her heart to them and continued to love them no matter what the circumstances were. Feeling like they were on top of the world, this class loved her back.
So once upon a time . . .
This unforgettable teacher was you. And those crazy students . . . well . . . they were us.
Yeah . . .
It was definitely a wild adventure . . . and honestly, I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way either.
Maybe the original idea for this gallery came from Hidden Gems by Katherine Bomer, or maybe it came from my last day at Columbia University’s Writing Project with Chris Lehman. My teaching life has been flipped upside down in the best of ways this year. Celebrating has been at the heart of it, and after two formal Writer’s Galleries in my classroom, I felt these eighth graders deserved a little more. Regardless of how the idea came about, I certainly did not realize what it would become . . .
It all started after Easter, true to form I asked the kids to generate ideas about what they would write about. We talked about the importance of writing strengths, we wrote seed ideas for some, we made mini-plans; we did what was natural. Then we chose our topics and drafted.
At this point we camped out with revision; we had Stacy and Evan visit our room to help us—I researched how to revise poetry. Our pieces were shifting, they were becoming stronger—we were talking more, giving good feedback and pushing each other; we all wanted the gallery to be good. By the time we got to editing, I could feel my nerves rising. We brought in Courtney for event planning and organization/mounting of their pieces in the gallery. When I tell you these kids worked hard on these pieces, I want you to know—they worked hard.
On the day of the gallery, we arrived (Courtney, Hannah, & I) at Café 110 around noon. Dressed in workout clothes and sweating from the lack of air conditioning, I looked at the blank walls and the huge stack of pieces. Doubt poured through ever fiber of my being. Would people come? Would they point out the two spelling mistakes I just saw? Would people just “hang out” and read nothing, negating the purpose of the event altogether? But regardless of the questions hanging in the thick air around me, I would have to press on; the event had 189 reservations—too much to cancel for tonight.
The three of us, moved through the afternoon, talk was quick and focused. As I pressed the sticky tack against the walls, I would look at the pieces and hear my heart pounding. I saw the countless revisions. I saw their work on sentence structure. I remembered asking them why this was important to share. It was then that I got it. This work, written by my students needed to be there, outside of the school, in a gallery. I needed to say with my actions, you’re right, this is important to share—I believe in you. Student by student the pieces went on the walls next to a nametag that bore the phrase, Featured Author. If we didn’t need to move so fast, I would have turned to mush weeping at the power of the affirmation of putting their words on the wall.
In no time at all, I was getting dressed and heading downstairs. At five o’clock exactly the first guests began to arrive. The rooms began to fill; my heart began to race. Soon, I was greeting people and hugging students (Have I ever mentioned that social situations like this give me anxiety? I don’t like parties of more than three, seriously what was I thinking?)
I wish I could tell you something that someone said to me that night; I wish I could describe a student’s face or tell you about the parents I saw cry over their child’s written words. But I can’t, it’s a blur.
But here is what I can tell you, people came, and lucky for me they wrote comment cards. I want to leave you with some of these comments typed out—they warmed my heart, they reminded me why I do what I do, they validated my theory that celebrating kids is one of the most important jobs a teacher can do.
Awesome event.
You have been a wonderful inspiration to_______. I feel she has really grown in her writing this year. You made her year.
My daughter and I teared up reading your letter. Thank you for this opportunity!
I never knew my daughter could write like that.
Every part of this night had a definite “touch of class”
This was a beautiful event that shows how much you care about your students.
I never knew my son felt that way about life.
Tonight felt so professional. I love being a real author.
I would have loved to be part of this when I was in 8th grade or any grade! These kids write incredibly!
Each child captured their heart and put it on a page. The beauty of their writing caught me off guard.
