"...I contain multitudes."

On the best days, teaching is all about hearing children sing their own songs. Some may need a little tune up, but all of the songs are reflections of who they are. I'm not talking about those kids who cling to the five-paragraph essays until they sweat the structure to the point of echoing an educator or text, stifling their voices in the details.

But maybe I am talking about those kids. Maybe on the field, in first chair, with a brush, writing code, tending gardens, pulling crab pots. Maybe at some point in the day their authentic selves shine through with confidence. Maybe.

How do we bring that same confidence to sharpening their literacy skills when they are so, so far behind? We don't play the blame game. Who knows where those children were functioning when last year's teacher met them? They may have already fought hard to gain the ground that we are see as shaky at best. Let's assume that their parents may be doing the best they can. Blame wastes your mental energy and precious time. Teachers know those are resources we must protect.

Meet kids where they are. There will be times in class when they just have to tackle a text that is out of their ZPDs, or reading comfort zone. As teachers, it's important that we know when that happens, so we can offer support. Read-alouds, modeling, think-alouds, active reading strategies, fix-up strategies...the list is long. Get comfortable with techniques that work for you as you help your students engage with the text. Engagement is key, and engaged students are far more fun to teach. Right?

Sometimes a story may be so far out of their independent reading ability that all of the strategies in the world won't build that scaffold strong and high enough. So is it important that they read that selection, or is it important that they get the story? 

If it's about story, is there another way to get it? Would clips of a film with subtitles turned on make the story more accessible? If the story is a classic, chances are that it has been illustrated by now. I'm not talking about the random art that can show up in the literature book. I'm talking about an illustrator who has read the text. Has it been turned into a graphic novel? Would reading this be a springboard for attacking the original story? Is there a Reader's Theater version of the tale? Scope magazine publishes a script in each edition of their magazine. (I have "The Tell-Tale Heart" ready to go for my collaborative class tomorrow.) And after you have given them this story, can you find a comparable tale that they can read with confidence that allows them to sharpen their independent reading skills?

Is there time set aside for kids to have some choice over their reading within their ZPD? If we were struggling readers, what would it feel like to sit through a double block class with materials that were three or more reading levels beyond our comfort zone? How will they be able to use literature to gain skills that rest on understanding the subtleties of authors' craft when all of the material is out of their mental grasp? And what if their reading class is at the end of the day? For a "third grade reader" in eighth grade, I'm just thankful that they didn't run home screaming before they got to me. (Luckily, I work with great people who do their best to make their curriculum accessible to all learners; I hope you do too.)

No matter how low children are, they can grow. It's never okay for us to tell ourselves that a child cannot. It's also not okay for us to be thankful the troublemakers have their heads down today. And we cannot say to ourselves that a child just is not a reader and take comfort in the fact that they excel in another field in order to quiet our conscience.

Reading is a pathway to community. It's not the only way, but it's a way marked with richness and diversity. 

Libraries are for everyone. Tell a friend. Tell your students. Some will not believe you. You will have to show them the truth.

Some books in the library aren't for everyone, but faced with seemingly infinite possibilities-- there just has to be something in there that fits. We have to help struggling readers use the library. We can still provide choices, but libraries are overwhelming to fledgling readers of all ages. What if we decoded language at such a painful pace, just browsing the shelves caused us to break into a sweat? Teachers and librarians who know the collection can guide the student and provide a few options based on student interest and independent reading level. So many books are out there these days designed to look "on level" while containing vocabulary and style for a "below level" reader. 

And thank goodness for the boom in graphic literature. Bless those writers and artists with swift fingers and fluid lines. Keep at it. One characteristic of some struggling readers is that they do not picture what they read, which is what good readers do. Graphic literature can bridge that gap. If you know an educator who still turns his/her nose up to this style, there is lots of research out there to support your love of these illustrated texts.

So back to Uncle Walt, Mr. Humanity, who contains multitudes. So do we. So do our kids. Walt was talking about all of us. Children aren't one-dimensional beings, although sometimes they like to think they are. 

"I don't need to read. I'm going to work on my dad's boat."

"I don't need to read. I'm an athlete."

"I don't need to read. I'm a musician."

"I don't need to read. I'm going to work on cars."

Students may actually say these words to us. I know. It hurts. We are the adults. Do not expect a child to have the foresight and understanding of the ways that literacy opens and closes doors in the blink of an eye. We can try to explain that, but only some of our message will not land. 

Often in education we have to carry the dreams we have for our students when they can't dream for themselves. That's okay. 

We can flash forward to the miles of forms that it takes to be an adult, the speed that it takes to find the answer to a question on the internet and choose the most accurate response, the times they may have to shuttle children and grandchildren to the library and read to them at night, the dinner table studying sessions when their children may need help, the employment they may seek that requires the ability to communicate through e-mail in a timely manner, the scanning of the newspaper for coupons in order to stretch their family's budget. 

We see all of this. We live it. No one has to remind us.

Every child is a reader. If we can help them believe this between September and June, we have given them a gift that they will not even begin to understand until they are adults. (So don't hold your breath for a thank you!)

This post sounds a little like a Sunday sermon, and maybe it is. This week there were two specific moments that fired me up all over again. 

First, the talented artist and teacher, Clayton Singleton, spoke at Norfolk Public Schools' convocation. Mr. Singleton made a lot of salient points, but something he said at 28:34 spoke to me. Watch the entire presentation, if you want to get lifted. Just perk up at 28:34 and pay close attention when he talks about "the black dude." I want you to hear it for yourself. Again, that child also contains multitudes. Let's not forget it!

Second, CBS Sunday Morning made me cry. They let me see that struggling reader take control of his reading life and find joy, community, pride and self-respect through literacy. 

Teachers, keep on teaching! 

We'll never get to see the true impact of the time we spend with children, but keep moving forward anyway. 

Here's to your best year yet!

For those about to write

This year has been tough, but enough about that.

One benefit to our schedule is that my two fourth block classes are smallish.  This means 10-15 students most days.  Today I was enjoying myself so much; it almost felt like summer.  Almost.  We were down to 12 kids today because two of my students were on a band field trip; one was somewhere else.  All eighth graders spent their morning completing three intense timed Explore tests, so I thought I'd go easy on them.

This group loves independent reading time, so I made sure I gave them 20 minutes for that.  During that time I was also to get a child started on the audiobook for Frindle. Sadly the archaic technology of the cassette tape requires 1:1 instruction.  (Other books being read in that room include: the Lunch Lady series, the Vampire Kisses series, the Bone series, the Bluford series, the Wimpy Kid series, the Harry Potter marathon, World War Z, The Dead and the Gone, Cobra Strike, The Running Dream, Twilight, On The Run. The last title is part of, you guessed it, a series! It's Korman's Chasing the Falconers-- a sure sell for reluctant readers who can get bogged down by their reading pace. It's Friday night; I'm sure I'm forgetting someone.) Most children are reading good old-fashioned books.  One is reading on her cell phone.  By the way, if you haven't yet fallen completely in love with helping kids develop an individualized reading life, let the lovely Neil Gaiman  help you with that.

Back when I started this blog I had twice the amount of instructional time with all language arts students.  I've had to cut out some of the activities I enjoy.  On days like these when the children are a little spent or we have several absences, I try to move some of those lessons back in.

Today we created the My Name Is...  poems that I used to do the first week of school.   With only twelve students I was able to keep the art mess to one side of the classroom to make it easier on our custodians.  Students who finished first explained the secret second step of the assignment to their classmates as they were ready to pen their creations.  When they completed their work, we "published" by posting their poems on the magnetic white board with some cheap fridge magnets from Wal-Mart.   After that, I could move students around the room in order to give them other enrichment activities.

Some took Accelerated Reader tests and got new library books before the weekend.  Some played with my deck of I've Never cards.  Students sharpened our classroom supply of pencils.  They cleaned up after themselves and others. They used my school-provided iPad to play Chicktionary. They read their classmates' Six Word Memoirs as well as today's poems.  Two students helped cut apart my circus-sized copy of Chicken Soup with Rice.  (I want to create classroom posters with the pages.)  In short, we all just enjoyed each other.

I know that there is some research that negates class size as a positive variable in student achievement, but maybe it's all about the size of the room.  When I can plug learners in to different spaces with different activities when appropriate, my job is easier, and learning can be individualized.  I miss the days of being able to take my class to the technology lab in our former school building.  There were tables, a whole bank of computers, floor space, traditional desks, AND IT WAS RIGHT ACROSS FROM BATHROOMS AND A WATER FOUNTAIN.  The instructor was so cool about letting me have my class there during his planning period.  Think kindergarten classrooms for teens.

Back to reality...

So after the first student's poem was done, our assistant superintendent dropped by for an unannounced visit.  Stay calm.  It's okay.  It's always fun to see another adult in the room.  With the student's permission, I was able to show him a finished product while explaining what was going on.  He asked a young man what we were doing; the young man was additionally cutting out a snazzy moustache and other oddities while completing his 20 word collection.  I pointed out that wasn't quite what we were doing, but the assistant superintendent did remark that the child was engaged.  True.

Allowing children some time to socialize through appropriate, guided play can foster a love of language.  It helps balance out your classroom climate as well.  The classroom needs to be a place of play and experimentation in order for everyone to stay healthy and energized.  Play can build community.  Please resist allowing kids to plug into their iPods to listen to music while all of this is going on.  Believe me-- they will get all of their daily iPod time in later.  I love music too, but allowing them to detach from the "now" prevents them from connecting with friends through language and listening.  It will also dull their observational skills that you are trying to build for their writing lives.  Please don't let them disengage through isolation.  Besides, it will wreck all your feng shui up one side and down the other.

(It may be a bias that I think personal listening devices are for alone time, cutting the grass, going to sleep and pretending to be busy to avoid talking to strangers on planes.  I like my music loud and shared. \m/ )

Zzzzzzzz

We don't have nap time in 8th grade.   If we did, I would be the first one with my head on the desk, thinking my happy thoughts.  For real.

Will some kids try to nap in your classroom anyway?   Yes.   What should we do?

WAKE THEM UP!!!

Why?   They got on the big, yellow bus.   When it dropped them off at school, it wasn't a surprise.   Why would they expect to sleep at school?

Also, how are we going to explain that to parents?   Let's say the child has an F in our class, and we allow them to sleep.   "Hello, Mrs. Jones, Scooter is not doing well in class.   In fact, he sleeps days at a time during third period."

Most likely the parent will wonder why this is being allowed.

When we allow children to sleep during instructional time we are telling them that their contributions are not valued in the classroom community.   We are telling them that we do not value their education.

Does this make our jobs a little harder?   Yes.   It does.

You will most likely meet teachers who allow children to sleep as one of their last ditch desperate attempts at classroom management.   Here's a scenario.  Let's say there's a child who's not being productive in your room.  You've tried all of your tricks, so before calling home you ask her other teachers for ideas or advice.  Seems the teacher of the class that precedes yours lets him zone out and drool on his desk every day.  The teacher tells you this outright.  This means you're batting clean up.  Teens usually don't physically or emotionally transition from REM sleeper to star (or mediocre) student in the flash of a class change.  As an added bonus, you will probably be met with some surly resentment from the child as well.  Mrs. So-and-So lets me sleep.  Why won't YOU?!

The child.  Don't lose that thought.  The child will test you every day, and she may not like you, but that's not what you're here for.  And, after all, she's the child; you're the adult.

What to do?

In the best case scenario, we are working in schools where having students attend class awake is a core value.  If not, hopefully we established it as a core value for our classrooms on day one.  They should know what to expect from us, if they break that rule.

Stand near the child's desk.
Tap on the desk.
Wake the child up.
Ask if he/she needs to go to the nurse.
Ask if he/she needs to stand at the back of the classroom to complete the day's work, so he/she can move around and keep those eyes open.
What about a trip to the water fountain?
How about a S-T-R-E-T-C-H?

If this happens a second time, we speak with the child in the hallway.   We reiterate our expectations for all children, and remind this child that it's disrespectful for us to care so very little about his/her education.  We can certainly ask the child for her side of the story. (I'm verrrrry clear to the child that I am not the babysitter.  If I were, I would demand better pay, tasty snacks, a comfy couch and cable.)  We then contact guidance, administrators, nurses, case managers and/or parents as needed.

If you need support from your colleagues, check the child's current grades.  Is there a class where the student is excelling?  Ask that teacher for ideas, or check the cumulative folder to see last year's teachers.  Maybe they can help.  Usually they can.  After all, they just spent nine+ months with the child.  They have a lot of anecdotal information to share, and their expertise lets you hit the ground running.

Are kids sometimes sleepy for reasons that demand our compassion?  Yes.  More often it's an electrical issue.  You know what I mean.

Here's what we're up against.  We need to help kids know when and how to "unplug" and rest.  More on that on another day.

Back to the other teacher who is letting her sleep.  There's not much you can do with a grown person making his/ her own choices in this matter, unless that teacher is one you are mentoring.  Be kind and reasonable in explaining why alert students are preferable.  Most folks get on board with that.  At this point, it's your administrators responsibility to decide whether or not to request that the teacher change his/ her classroom management approach.

While this issue can usually be resolved by working with the child, sometimes you will need to ask for help at home.

Sometimes this issue is more complex than it first appears, but try the simple approach first.  Set behavior expectations early and follow through on enforcing them.  

Wake Up, Chuck

My principal sent out this article to our faculty via e-mail.   It's a list of 10 ways you can keep your students awake.   These suggestions are from Wisconsin middle school teacher Michelle Doman.

I've tried #5 before, but don't miss #7.   Here's a kinder, gentler clue to technique #7 below.  

I wonder if Chuck Norris can tame a class full of middle school students.