“Be sure to turn in a printed copy to the office and an electronic copy to the webmaster by Friday,” my administrator announced at the staff meeting. Once back in my office, I started to plan out my All About Me page assignment. What am I all about?
Here’s what I decided to share:
Are you teaching this school year? If so, what are you all about?
THe IEP meeting was for a student currently in a self-contained English 7 class. He rocked his mid-year reading assessment so we had the reading data to move him to a co-taught enviroment. We called a meeting with his mom and she came to school in person. She agreed to the move and we quickly completed the paper work. This allowed us to change his schedule. I left happy that I could help better place this student in an English class.
However, something his mom said during the meeting still haunts me. “I don’t read or write in English or my native language, Arabic.”
As teachers, we work hard to place students with IEPs in the least restricted envoirnment at school.
Yet, they aren’t at school 24/7.
We only have control over so much.
#GratefultoRead
#GratefultoWrite
“The game choices today are: Boogle, Bananagrams, Qwirkle, Scrabble, or Word Around,” Mrs. J explained to the nine middle schoolers on a Friday afternoon.
K and G chose Scrabble so I grabbed my box and suggested they follow me to a table in the back to play. L followed us. As I lifted the lid, I noticed the corners of the box were reinforced with tape. “She must have added that tape”, I thought. Who? I called her Grandma, my mom’s mom. My girls called her Great-Nana. As I pulled out the four wooden racks to hold the letters for our game, I recalled the times at Grandma’s apartment. We would open her closet door and roll out her round card table. Then she’s open this very box I was opening today and we’d play Scrabble. I realize now, this month, on the 28th, she would be 119 years old. My, these Scrabble tiles have been touched by so many. And now would be used to play a game with some 7th graders.
These particular students, for a variety of reasons, haven’t learned to read well. YET! They are in this class specifically so they can receive the explicit reading lessons needed to become readers. They have never played this game before so I began to explain the rules. “First, we each pick one tile from this bag and the person with the letter closest to A gets to go first.”
G reached in and pulled one time out. “I got E.”
L said, “I got R”
K said, “I got A!!!!!” with a big smile on her face.
I went last and got an T. So K grabbed 6 more tiles from the bag and started to see if she could create a word.
“Remember, to make a word, it must have a vowel. So look at your letters and move them around on your rack and try to create a word. We have been working with and reading nonsense words so nonsense words count too in this game, as long as you can tap it out and read them to us,” I explained.
G asked, “Can we spell names?”
“Sure,” I replied. (I’m a softy for the rules. Besides, already I was OK if they used a nonsense word they could read!) This exchange reminded me of the many times I played this same game with my husband, then boyfriend, in college. I told the students how we gave double the points if we could spell our own name!
Ms J decided that our Friday agenda would involve games related to words because kids today need practice in playing games and especially ones involving reading. Left to their own devises, they would NEVER choose Scrabble.
K started with HAM. I added HEART. And on we went! Soon, all built words, smiled as their score grew, grabbed more tiles from the bag, made more words and were able to attend for a full 30 minutes. When Ms. J announced it was time to clean up and head outside to enjoy our earned outside time, I carefully placed the wooden racks, bag of tiles and game board back in the box. A box that probably was purchased in the 1960s and played by my Grandma, my mom, me and now my middle school students.
What’s your favorite game related to words??!!!
“You got a minute?” a collegaue said as she appeared at my office door with a paper in hand. “T just gave me this! It is his first ever reading homework sheet signed by a parent” Her face was beaming and she continued. “He was so proud. He said he read the story to his mom, his dad and his brother.” On hearing this news about a 7th grade emergent reader, who proudly completing his reading homework (to read a decodable text three times to an adult), his teacher and I did a happy dance!!
“Who was the boy that helped you last year get Kwame to visit our school?”
“B”
“Yes. I was talking with him yesterday and somehow we mentioned authors we like and he told me how he has a signed copy of The Door of No Return by Kwame Alexander. He was beaming as he told me. I then asked the whole class if they remembered the school visit by Kwame. Many did and B was so proud when I announced to the class that it was B’s who helped get that visit.”
I was a part of these two conversations on a Friday during my school day.
Both remind me why I teach!
NOTE: You can read here about Kwame’s 12/5/2022 visit to my school because of B’s help!
Last week, I was asked to work with an 8th grade boy. During November, his classmates and he were writing stories as part of National November Writing Month, AKA NaNowWriMo. I sat down next ot him and asked him to first read his story to me. Once he finished, I explained, “You’re the kind of writer who doesn’t use very much punctuation as you draft. However, as you just now read your story to me, I heard you pause. At those moments, that’s where the punctuation can be added. May I help you reread it again and add punctuation? It will help a reader to know when to stop and pause,” I ask.
His eyes moved from his iPad and looked right at me. A smile formed and he agreed. For the next 20 minutes, he reread his story. At the pauses, I showed him how to type a period or a question mark. Then I showed him how to use the shirf key plus a letter to ensure the next word, after the end punctuation, begins with a capital letter. Once he suggested adding an exclamation point and I agreed. It was a statement that needed an extra umph! After reading the last line, without prompting, he exclaimed, “Thank you so much.”
“My pleasure. Now a reader of your story will knows exactly how to read it because you are the kind of writer who edits for punctuation!” I told him proudly.
Today, I helped an 8th grade girl. Just prior, the classroom teacher was offering some tips to the whole class. One was to reread your story and if you see the word “and”, consider turning that long sentence into two shorter sentences. This teacher also mentioned how the first thing to do today was to read the comments that she added to each person’s story. When I sat down, I dutifully asked this student to show me her comments from her teacher. Typed into the small box, to the right of her document draft ,was the tip the teacher had just orally explained about eliminating “and”.
“May I help you to turn that long sentence where you used “and” into two shorter ones?” I ask.
This student also lifted her eyes from her electronic document and smiled. For the next 15 minutes, she read her story sentences to me. Each time “and” was found, I simply verbally reminded her that just before the “and”, she could end the sentence with punctuation. Then I whispered, “Now delete the word “and”. Now make the first letter of the next word begin with a capital letter.” Having my voice supporting her allowed her to successfully turn the teacher’s tip into a reality. As I got up to leave, I mentioned to the teacher, “She’s now the kind of writer who doesn’t write really long sentences with an “and” in the middle.” As I shared this news, the student had the biggest smile on her face.
These two experiences remind me of the importance of teaching writing. A student can write. A student can hear tips. But having a teacher pull up beside a student and ask if they can help edit a story is the best. Whispering in after a student writer drafts is one of my favorite tasks as a teacher!
A great thing about being a teacher is the fresh start each Fall. After a summer to rest and reflect, I am ready to start again. New group of students. New families to meet. In two days, we hold an Open House and then Monday, the 2022-2023 school year begins.
A frustrating thing about being a teacher is the many new initatives shared at the start of the Fall. After just three days of pre-service meetings, I feel a little overwhelmed. New staff to support. New schedule to unpack. New resources purchased by the district to start using.
One resource is called PAPER. I dutifully logged into the zoom meeting at 12:30pm yesterday (as my tummy rumbled thinking I should be giving it attention) to learn about it. The perky product rep taught me that PAPER is an educational technology company that partners with schools and school districts to provide students with free, unlimited, 24/7 tutoring. The platform has more than two million users across the United States. The company is headquartered in Montreal, Quebec and has operations across North America. And with further research, I learned that their tutors are paid $17.50 per hour and one can hold an undergraduate degree or be working toward it. I also learned that this platform works much like when I chat with my cable company. I type in the chat box. They type back. I wonder if they are really there? or is it just a computer generating responses?
As my 3rd day of teaching meetings ended, I am feeling excited to support my staff and students this year in person. I wonder if online support will soon replace the way I’ve been able to teach my students for the past 30 years? I wonder if a company like TEAMS will soon offer online schooling to replace the brick and mortar community I have always worked in? What is the future of education?
For now, I will greet day 4 of my pre-service time with a smile and the determination to make the 2022-2023 school year the best I can.
Rollercoaster…that was the metaphor another Slicer used last week to describe her new school year. As I read Erika’s words HERE, I thought how It fits for me too.
It is risky to even go on such a ride. And first you must meet the height requirements. It is risky this year to teach in-person. And there are the health requirements. Must be vaccinated. Must wear a mask. 800+ students, at an age when they aren’t the best at following rules, arrive in-person to learn. Crowded hallways. Outdoor lunch. Some vaccinated. Many not old enough yet. Click…click…click.. click. Up the hill, the coaster climbs, as I walk, white-knuckled, into my classroom each day.
Then I feel the rush. Whoosh…..down the hill….exhillaration. Along with teaching three classes of students, I am my school’s new literacy coach, supporting four groups of adults. Last week, I felt such a high from listening to the grade-level ELA teachers. I asked questions. I offered ideas. It’s been 8 years since I’ve been a coach and it was like riding a bike. It felt natural and freeing and rewarding to support adults. My insecure side worried. Would I have anything to offer? But my 20+ years of experience kick into gear. How about this authors? Another strategy you could try is ____ . I know stories. I know strategies. I easily shared and those at the meeting departed, feeling their load was lifted a bit because of my support. Whoosh!
I buttoned my Peter Pan-collared white shirt. I pulled my maroon and gray plaid jumper over my head. I pulled up my matching marron socks, slid on my loafers and slipped my arms into the maroon sweater. My 7-year old self felt ready for school. As I arrived, all the girl’s outfits matched. We lined up next to the boys dressed in white shirts, navy slacks and maroon ties. It looked like we were on the same team. I felt like I belonged on this team. Belonging is important.
However, my adult-self wonders about that child. Sitting all day in her classroom taught by white nuns and surrounded by white kids. Learning to read with the Dick and Jane readers to then graduate to textbooks sharing a one-side white history of America.
This summer I’ve been reading antiracist history books and listening to antiracist podcasts. Now I see that girl in the jumper differently. Now I see my adult-self as someone who needs to know more. Someone who needs to wake up and stand up for all.
NOTE: I wrote this piece during a PD called Trauma Informed Writing Workshop offered by Arlene Casimir, a staff developer at TCRWP. (She is offering this PD 2x more on Friday, August 14th, $50. I recommend).
Steps:
1. With my non-dominate hand, sketch myself as a child. (a quick 1-minute sketch)
2. Name the age of the child in my sketch.
3. With my non-dominate hand, write the story this child wants to tell.
4. Ask yourself after writing, what does this child need to hear?
I followed these steps and also added my own adult-self reflection in this slice.
Writing Stories by Sally 