Back to Slicing! 

Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers.

It’s the “last day of school eve” here. Always a time for reflection. . . What went well this year? What should I have done differently? What will I do differently next year? As I ponder these questions, my end of the year work keeps piling up. Report cards, room cleaning, parent emails, planning for next year, meetings, meetings, meetings. But for me, reflection is one of the ways I close up my year. Tomorrow I will say goodbye to my 2013 – 2014 students and that always highlights what a strange thing time is. 

At field day today one of my math students was at the chalk art station with me.  This math student joined my math class late in the year, and I haven’t had as long to get to know her. I watched her draw a beautiful picture of two horses on the blacktop today.  “That’s beautiful!” I said, as I realized that it was the first time I’ve seen her draw. I realized at that moment how familiar this feeling is, to find out things about my students at the end of the school year. They are always things I wish I had known all year.

Every year, I try to get to know my students. I do community building and Human Bingo. We make playdoh representations of something important to us on the first day of school, and share during morning meetings. We confer during literacy, and spend time throughout the day being ourselves. So today I am asking myself why I had never seen my math student draw a picture before, why I didn’t know she had a love of art.

I wondered today, as I remember wondering last year…. Am I really doing the things I think I am doing when I meet my class each year? This year we spent more time getting to know each other.  We talked about growing our brains, and I remember asking everyone to share the activity they were most successful and passionate about. I remember many of the answers, but I don’t remember all of them. What can I do next year to make sure that I get to know the passions and special talents of my students? How can I make them comfortable enough to truly share in the beginning of the year and beyond?  I have a few ideas, but I’d love to hear yours!

Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers.

Right Now I am:
 
Listening to a robotic voice tell me about value added assessment
Feeling my eyes roll
Watching my colleagues’
Eye Rolls
Mouths open
Shocked stares
Wrinkled noses
As we listen to the robot tell us 
what it means to plan instruction 
verify our roster
have integrity
and take responsibility for the proportion of our instruction based on enrollment but not attendance or weather

I am still:

Wondering why the robot is proud that the assessment system is part of the largest privately held software company in the world. 
Comparing the state of education to the Hunger Games
Assuming I would be the first one killed by the “Peacekeepers” 
Attempting to understand the math 
the point
and how this will help my students
May the odds be ever in our favor*

*My apologies to Suzanne Collins

Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers.

For days. . . 

I sit with my computer open to my grading program, and my papers piled on my desk. I have to do lists. I have blog posts to check in and respond to, and reading letters too. I have a small stack of math homework, already corrected during class, but calling my name to be checked in. I have report cards due that need comments (well comment codes which tell so much about my students). I even have 2 bookshelves that need to be built, and a push-pin poetry board to put up.

But I also have ideas. So I push away my to do list and plan instead. I plan a close reading lesson with “Stray” from Cynthia Rylant’s Every Living Thing based on Kate Robert’s presentation at the  #TCRWP saturday reunion and my coach’s help. (We won’t talk about how I asked her for help an hour before I wanted to teach this lesson, because my last-minute inspired planning is a post for a different day!) I plan a follow up investigation into setting after our close reading of Stray because when we really work hard with setting, it becomes obvious that there is more than meets the eye. Also obvious is that my students expect the setting to jump out of the page and into their brain. I read through Nancie Atwell’s Naming the World book to gather some poems we can use for our work with setting. I cry as I read and decide to go within the theme of pets that started us off with the short story “Stray.” Students will need to read closely to find the setting, and I have a feeling they will feel connected to these powerful poems.  I also plan the start of my annual huge “Muppet” project (still so much work to do!)  I plan a lesson on verb continuums based on a pin that linked to this.

Tonight I open my computer, with my same to do list.

So I slice.

I am participating in the March Slice of Life Challenge: A slice a day for all of March.  You should do it too! Check it out here. Thank you,  Two Writing Teachers! 

Last night I drove home in the rain. My brain settled in on thinking about the Slice of Life Challenge, and about how much I’ve enjoyed writing and connecting to others this month. I thought about how, in a way,  I’ve spent my March close reading my days because of this challenge. (Thanks again, Kate Roberts! ) I spend my days noticing slices, snapshots, pieces. This isn’t totally abnormal for me, I’m married to a film editor, but it is new to do it this much and for the purpose of writing. Now small moments become slices in my mind, and sometimes on my page.

When I decided to Slice, I told my friend M, and she said “I’ll slice too, on a google.” And she has. So has my other friend K. It meant a lot to have my real life friends slicing along with me. Not to mention the ones who read my blog, comment, tweet, email and talk to me about my writing in person. I’ve “met” new people online, and read blogs I may not have seen otherwise. It really is a conversation.  Starting this writing habit has been an amazing thing. Not just writing, but blogging. I saw this yesterday (wish I remember where I found it!)

Yesterday I was blown away by the extra views my blog got, the tweeting and retweeting. I went to Fran’s blog to reread her “right now” slice, and noticed other bloggers mentioning my link in her comments. Then, I saw that someone pinned my piece on balance on pinterest. I was so excited about these connections, and it started my mind thinking about how I can help my students get more connections with their writing. More sharing. More commenting. More complimenting.

As soon as I started this challenge, I had fuzzy  thoughts about how beneficial writing daily would be. Ruth Ayres articulated the benefits in this post at Choice Literacy.  I love when thoughts I have swirling around are made lucid by someone. It is affirming. Ruth’s post speaks to me about how important it is to do the things we ask students to do. Learning is messy, and if I’m not learning and thinking about learning while I’m teaching, I think it can be easy to lose sight of what it means to learn. If I hadn’t started writing more, started blogging and started the Slice challenge, I wouldn’t be reflecting about how important sharing is in a writing community. I wouldn’t be thinking about how to fit in more acknowledgement in my Writer’s Workshop. I’ve always known it is important, but I often forget, and I never truly understood.

Years ago I started to take piano lessons again, after having quit my senior year of high school. I was talking to my aunt one day about my trying to create a habit of practicing piano as an adult. She remarked that it must be great for my teaching, to be learning piano. I misunderstood her, and went into a whole speech about how it was so powerful to be learning something while I’m teaching, how it really made me think about how my students learn. She nodded, looked at me quizzically and said, “Oh, I just meant you could have a piano in your classroom to play and sing with your class.”

There’s no way my piano skills are up to that, but my learning has always informed my teaching. Thanks to Slice of Life, I will be taking many awesome learning and writing lessons back to my classroom.

I am participating in the March Slice of Life Challenge: A slice a day for all of March.  You should do it too! Check it out here. Thank you,  Two Writing Teachers! 

Last Saturday at #TCRWP, we had a lot of choices to make about sessions. During the drive to New York City, my friends and I spent time reading through the session descriptions and coming up with our priority list. So many amazing presenters were going to be there! It was difficult to prioritize. For me, there were a few musts. I wasn’t leaving New York City until I saw Diane Ravitch and Kate Roberts.  The last session of the day was the session we agreed on to see Kate Roberts: Falling in Love with Close Reading. 

Dear Kate Roberts,

We were lucky to arrive in time to get great seats. As soon as you walked in, the energy level went up.

Earlier this year I read Falling in Love with Close Reading: Lessons for Analyzing Texts–and Life.  I had heard so many people talk about and I had read so many things about “close reading” that seemed, well… boring, and non-authentic. But I started to see tweets, and then I read some blogs, including A Day in the Life of a Close Reader. Soon I was reading your book, and well, I fell in love! The passion that surrounds the book and your presentation last Saturday about close reading is contagious.

You reminded me that…

• As humans we already know how to come back to something look at the details that we love
• Students know how to close read because they do it with the things they love in this world
• We need close reading structure and ritual
• We should be reaching for happiness,  engagement and independence
• Close reading is part of a balanced reading instruction

Thank you for taking us through a close read of “Let it Go.” You inspired us with your energy. I loved how you walked around recording what we were saying and used that information to continue the close read. The ritual and structure were there, and it was fluid; the way you showed us how to go from first read, to finding evidence to finding patterns to finding understanding.

All too quickly,  your session was over, and my friend K said: Go! She knew I wanted to meet you.

It’s not my normal personality to jump up and go introduce myself to someone I admire. I had a flashback to years ago (pre-kids) when my husband and I went to a Tori Amos concert at a small venue, right at the time when she was really outgrowing small venues. I remember sitting next to my husband about halfway back as the concert began. When Tori came out on stage, we all got up and I quickly noticed that a lot of people were running towards the stage. I left my husband in the dust, of course, and went closer. I was nervous that I’d get in trouble. If I had more confidence, I could have easily gotten right up to the stage. I stopped pretty close though – and there I stood for the whole concert. We also stood in a small crowd near the stage door and waited for Tori to come out, which she did. She spoke to some fans who were confident enough to push their way into a conversation, and I’ll always regret not pushing my way in to say hello and thank you.

I don’t know if I’m comparing you to Tori Amos here, or not… but I was determined last Saturday to not leave with regret about not pushing my way in to tell you that I so admire your work and your ideas.  So I did. I jumped out of my chair, and pretended it was my normal personality to introduce myself.

Thank you for acting like it was a totally normal thing for me. Thank you for shaking my hand, asking my name, asking if I was on twitter, and agreeing to a picture. Thanks for letting my friend K sneak around the table to join the picture.

When I came back to school this week, I was fired up about close reading. I had been rolling around an idea of having the kids choose songs, videos, etc. to practice the ritual of close reading more independently, so that’s what we’ve been working on this week.

Today students sat happily engaged. They independently close read songs and you tube videos.

My intern and I walked around and listened in to their thinking. We discussed and scaffolded. We were impressed… and jealous! We both wanted to do the activity too!

Then, one of my students blurted out: “This if fun! We should do this over and over again!”

Thank you, Kate Roberts!