Annotated Bibliography for Research Question: How can using literature in my writing workshop help my 1st grade students’ become better writers?
Cianciolo, P. (1985). Reading, literature, and writing from writer’s perspectives. The English Journal, 74(8), 65-69. Retrieved from http://www.ncte.org/library/NCTEFiles/Resources/
Journals/EJ/1985/0748-dec1985/EJ0748Reading.pdf
Though this article is an older publication, December1985, Patricia Ciaciolo, professor at Michigan State University, writes to address a, then, void in research on how literature impacts writers. Ciaciolo asks herself what qualities literature and “good writers” have in common, and by researching authors of children’s literature and what they have said about the qualities writers have in connection to literature through interviews, essays, and comments, she is able to define six qualities that good writers share. The six qualities that Ciaciolo find common among writers still hold true today: good writers are good readers, they like to “play” with words, they like to asks questions and want to learn more, they observe the world around them, they tell and re-tell stories, and they have a need to write, a motivation beyond just acknowledgement. This article, though somewhat dated, would still help me with my own research as it gives me a place to define in my head what qualities writers need, how that connects to their experiences of literature, and how I can give them the necessary experiences in my classroom to foster good writers and good writing habits.
Fletcher R, & Portalupi J. (2001). Writing workshop: The essential guide. Portsmouth, NH: Heinemann.
In 2001 Ralph Fletcher and JoAnn Portalupi collaborated for a third time on a book to introduce teachers to the writing workshop and the elements that are contained within the workshop. Fletcher and Portalupi have a chapter on Literature in the Writing Workshop. This chapter is the chapter that made me question my own use of literature in my classroom, especially in my writing workshop. This chapter drove my research question. Fletcher and Portalupi assert that there are four important parts of literature in the classroom, especially in relation to writing: read aloud, independent reading, book discussions, and using literature in teacher/student conferences. The writers pull from their experiences of working with teachers and being teachers for over twenty years to create a chapter on the importance of incorporating literature in the writing workshop. They assert that primary students model their own writing after books and story forms they have heard or read, some students come to the classroom with a wide range and background in literature, but some students need more support in accessing literature. By exposing students to a variety of literature when they are read to, when they read independently, when you discuss books as a class, or when working one on one with a student to conference their writing their writing pieces will become more vivid and well rounded. This chapter, actually the whole book, will be really helpful in making my writing workshop run more smoothly while I work on my research question.
Hammerberg, D. D. (2001). Reading and writing “hypertextually”: Children’s literature, technology, and early writing instruction. Language Arts, 8(3), 207-216. Retrieved from http://www.ncte.org/library/NCTEFiles/Resources/Journals/LA/0783-jan01/
LA0783Reading.pdf
In 2001 Assistant Faculty Associate at the University of Wisconsin–Madison in the area of literacy education, Dwanene D. Hammerberg, conducted research on how contemporary children’s literature uses “hypertextual elements” (i.e color, size, font), and other visual cues to impart understanding. This in turn needs to be included in writing instruction as a means for students to expand and explore their own writing. Hammerberg challenges teachers of writing, especially those with primary students, to use texts that have these elements in them as mentor texts for their students writing. Hammerberg ascertains that by allowing students to use these hypertextual elements in their own writing their imagination and their writing will improve. This is article is helpful for my own research as I would not have thought to use hypertextual elements as a springboard for my instruction of writing. In my class students draw their pictures then write the story, this use of hypertextual cues in their drawings will help my students to create more vibrant writings.
Hassett, D. D., & Curwood, J. S. (2009). Theories and practices of multimodal education: The instructional dynamics of picture books and primary classrooms. The Reading Teacher, 63(4), 270–282. Retrieved from http://web.ebscohost.com/ehost/pdfviewer/pdfviewer?sid=014b8f4e-15c0-4af8-a738-731c8f6703f2%40sessionmgr113&vid=5&hid=125
In 2009 Dwnene Hassette, teacher in the department of curriculum and instruction at the university of Wisconsin-Madison, and Jen Scottt Curwood, doctoral candidate there as well, collaborated with 3 kindergarten through 3rd grade teachers with master’s degrees in literacy to create and teach a literature rich curriculum that uses contemporary books that contain hypertextual elements to help students become more interactive with the literature. Hassett and Curwood hope that their research on how these hypertextual elements change reader/writter’s view of literature and literacy will, in turn, challenge teachers to use the contemporary literature to change their instruction of both reading and writing to reflect how hypertextual elements of contemporary literature will effect their students’ writings. This, like Hammerberg’s research, will definitely help my own research on how literature can improve my own students’ writings. Since contemporary children’s literature uses elements of text than just the words, (color, shape, format) to being deeper understanding to the reader, my own students can use these in their writings as well.
Paquette, K. R. (2007). Encouraging primary students’ writing through children’s literature. Early Childhood Education Journal, 35(2), 155-165. Retrieved from http://web.ebscohost.com/ehost/pdfviewer/pdfviewer?sid=7a24f35a-59d3-4
abf-ba2890e78af04805%40sessionmgr114&vid=5&hid=125
In 2007 Kelli Paquette, Professor of Professional Studies in Education at Indiana University of Pennsylvania, researches how picture books provide mentor texts for the 6+1 writing traits of good writers by taking the excitement students have from read aloud stories and transferring it over to writing, a subject often noted by teachers as a challenge. Paquette creates a list of mentor texts for each of the six writing traits and comments on how those texts can influence student writing. This article is very helpful for my research as it gives me a beginning list of books to include in my classroom for my writing block as instructional texts, as well as how these books can be used in a connected activity. This list of books that Paquette has accumulated will be very helpful as a springboard for me to find texts that are mentor texts for more specific lessons in my writing block.
*format would not cross over from Word to blogger.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Chapter 11 Year Long Goals
This chapter looks at year-long goals for the writing workshop. It was very short and concise. A few things that stuck with me were the authors’ re-iteration of how flexibility and formatting lessons to fit YOUR class is very important. A year-long plan needs to include a series of sessions with “closures and new beginnings…reflections and challenges.” I LOVE how they writers gave us a calendar of events to look for during the year. This will be really important when I go to plan my writing workshop using our 1st grade roll out of the year. Weaving this in with the other teachers will be a challenge, though a rewarding one. August and January are similar in ways because they are “fresh starts” to workshop. I’ve found this in my own classroom. How I present writing to my students in August really sets the tone for how they see themselves as writers and how they perceive me as a teacher of writing. January is my chance to change anything that wasn’t working previously and to hash out any problems as well as a time to remind and reinforce practices that are working. December and May are also very similar as they are natural “closures” to various projects.
I found this chapter to be very helpful for me while looking towards next year and how I can improve my writing workshop. I like how the writers found common themes that happen throughout a school year, no matter the curricula being used or the grade level being taught. These common threads gave me an overview of what my teaching needs to look like to help my students take to writing instead of dread it. Their pacing, allowing for pauses and breaks in genre I think is really important, especially for my students who's attention span is limited.
I found this chapter to be very helpful for me while looking towards next year and how I can improve my writing workshop. I like how the writers found common themes that happen throughout a school year, no matter the curricula being used or the grade level being taught. These common threads gave me an overview of what my teaching needs to look like to help my students take to writing instead of dread it. Their pacing, allowing for pauses and breaks in genre I think is really important, especially for my students who's attention span is limited.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Chapter 10 Troubleshooting
“Like weeds in a garden, certain problems will show up from time to time.” This chapter covers some of the common problems teachers encounter during the writing workshop.
-To much noise: This could be a caused by not just noisy kids but also a deeper issue. It could be students are confused with what they should be doing, if they don’t know what to do if they are done, or if they aren’t writing about something that they find meaningful and therefore are too distracted. Address these problems during your mini-lessons, re-teach writing workshop rituals and routines, what is expected, or guide topic choices so that they don’t feel so confused.
-When you don’t like the topic they are writing about: Students might write about offensive, violent, or silly things that we don’t feel comfortable with. Students will probably be pulling from pop culture. Make sure that you have clearly stated boundaries of what is allowed in the writing. Try to steer away from retelling of videos and video games by telling them that you want to hear THEIR ideas and thoughts not something that you can rent and see for yourself.
-Finishing work too quickly: I found that in my class this was helped by having a saying “When you’re done you’ve just begun: STOP re-read your work, add to the pictures, add to the words, star a new piece. In this book they give a few other options- make a certain number of pieces must be done. Let students share unfinished work too, draw pictures in the story, ask them to add more details.
-Don’t finish what they start: Ask yourself if you are giving them enough time, are they picking topics they can get in depth with? Use those questions to help fix this problem
-Writing is boring: use other books to show how authors add fancy details. Have them remember what they told you and how it is different from what they wrote. Describing words they may not know could be taught in a mini- lesson
-Don’t know what to teach: read through student writing to focus your lessons: can re-teach routines, celebrate writing, use mentor texts, share your own writing. One quote I really liked was “It’s NOT absolutely necessary to have a mini-lesson at the beginning of every writing workshop, you may just want to get the writing SHARE time might be where you do your lesson.
-Overwhelmed by student conference: Don’t let the students be ducks and follow you around. Teach them to be independent thinkers and problem solve so that you can get your conferences in.
-editing: make a checklist have them read their writing for each item on the checklist not just once for all things on the checklist. Give them opportunities to share writing so they can make it “reader friendly.”
-Energy is low: genre study, change their genre of writing to give them a break. Give an author’s day celebration publishing day
-Too many/none to share: reserve share time for 2 or 3 students, small groups share or partner shares so that all students get to give their writing a spotlight.
-Don’t want to revise: Let students choose what they will revise. Be Patient and let them develop in their writing the way they need to.
This chapter was really nice having a chapter on troubleshooting this writing time. This chapter really gave me knew ideas on how to structure my writing workshop so that less problems and fires need to be put out and so that I have more time to have my student conferences.
-To much noise: This could be a caused by not just noisy kids but also a deeper issue. It could be students are confused with what they should be doing, if they don’t know what to do if they are done, or if they aren’t writing about something that they find meaningful and therefore are too distracted. Address these problems during your mini-lessons, re-teach writing workshop rituals and routines, what is expected, or guide topic choices so that they don’t feel so confused.
-When you don’t like the topic they are writing about: Students might write about offensive, violent, or silly things that we don’t feel comfortable with. Students will probably be pulling from pop culture. Make sure that you have clearly stated boundaries of what is allowed in the writing. Try to steer away from retelling of videos and video games by telling them that you want to hear THEIR ideas and thoughts not something that you can rent and see for yourself.
-Finishing work too quickly: I found that in my class this was helped by having a saying “When you’re done you’ve just begun: STOP re-read your work, add to the pictures, add to the words, star a new piece. In this book they give a few other options- make a certain number of pieces must be done. Let students share unfinished work too, draw pictures in the story, ask them to add more details.
-Don’t finish what they start: Ask yourself if you are giving them enough time, are they picking topics they can get in depth with? Use those questions to help fix this problem
-Writing is boring: use other books to show how authors add fancy details. Have them remember what they told you and how it is different from what they wrote. Describing words they may not know could be taught in a mini- lesson
-Don’t know what to teach: read through student writing to focus your lessons: can re-teach routines, celebrate writing, use mentor texts, share your own writing. One quote I really liked was “It’s NOT absolutely necessary to have a mini-lesson at the beginning of every writing workshop, you may just want to get the writing SHARE time might be where you do your lesson.
-Overwhelmed by student conference: Don’t let the students be ducks and follow you around. Teach them to be independent thinkers and problem solve so that you can get your conferences in.
-editing: make a checklist have them read their writing for each item on the checklist not just once for all things on the checklist. Give them opportunities to share writing so they can make it “reader friendly.”
-Energy is low: genre study, change their genre of writing to give them a break. Give an author’s day celebration publishing day
-Too many/none to share: reserve share time for 2 or 3 students, small groups share or partner shares so that all students get to give their writing a spotlight.
-Don’t want to revise: Let students choose what they will revise. Be Patient and let them develop in their writing the way they need to.
This chapter was really nice having a chapter on troubleshooting this writing time. This chapter really gave me knew ideas on how to structure my writing workshop so that less problems and fires need to be put out and so that I have more time to have my student conferences.
Cinnamon Toast and Tea
Cinnamon Toast and Tea
Darkness cuddled around the sleeping child, holding her in warm cozy arms as she snoozed dreaming youthful, playful dreams. The house was quiet, the mummers and mumbles of conversation long since silenced by breathing and rustling of covers. It was night, the best night, a new moon, clear sky, a cinnamon toast and tea night.
“Jessie, Jessie” a low voice whispered as a gentle shake woke her from her slumbers. Wiping her eyes she rolled over, remembering at the last second to not roll too far, least she fall from her perch on the bed-in-the-wall.
“Daddy?” she whispered back “what’s wrong?”
“You have to come see this” her daddy, her hero, murmured as he lifted her up in his big strong arms and carried her out of the room. Her sisters snuggled sleeping in their beds unaware of the adventure that was happening around them. “See what daddy?” She whispered, her excitement wiping away the last cobwebs of sleep from her brain. Giggling under her breath at the thought of what they would be missing.
Her daddy wrapped her in his fuzzy, faded, flannel sweater; the one she loved to sleep with that carried that comforting smell of her hero. He carried her up the stairs and outside into the arms of the night. It took a while for her eyes to adjust to the dark. Her daddy had not turned on any lights, nor brought a flashlight to guide their way. She looked around, felt the cool mountain breeze sliding through the trees, the sound, soothing, reminiscent of the waves crashing on a beach. Her naked toes wiggled, tickled by the fingers of wind that passed by. Her daddy placed her down gently on the cold, hard asphalt as he settled next to her. “Lay back and look up,” he whispered.
Before her eyes spread this glorious velvet canvas, sprinkled with thousands of glittering, sparkling diamonds. “Wow” she breathed; somehow it felt necessary to speak in whispers while looking at these shards of heaven, twinkling down upon them. They lay, side by side, her daddy pointing out the heroes and creatures, the stories in the stars. Orion, the great hunter, for eternity chasing the seven beautiful sisters, the Pleiades, across the wheel of the sky. Tarus, the brawny bull, intervening on Artimis’ order, his red eye gleaming among the drops of white. Cassiopeia, the vain queen who put her daughters up against Aphrodite in a contest of beauty, and in punishment was thrown upside down into the heavens.
The blacktop soaked up her body heat, stealing it away until shivers made her body twitch. “Are you cold, pumpkin?” Her daddy whispered, turning his head to check on her. “Yeth” she lisped out, her teeth chattering against each other. Her hero scooped her up in his warm strong arms, holding her close to his heart. Over his shoulder she took a final peek at the winking drops of light. They snuck back into the house, tiptoeing across the creaky, groaning, floorboards to the kitchen. One small light illuminated the kitchen as her daddy set her down at the sturdy brown table and tucked the warm fuzzy sweater closer around her.
As she watched he filled the shiny black teapot with water, the rushing, shushing, sound of the water filling the pot echoed through the silence. He placed it carefully on the stove and clicked of the knob so the coil ignited. She listened as he started to sing, his voice reminding her of her favorite singer, Raffi. “Listen to the rhythm of the falling rain, telling me just what a fool I’ve been…” Curled up in her chair she was warm, and cozy, fighting sleep; it’s silken voice calling her to bed. She blinked.
DING! Her eyes flew open. Her dad was still singing and moving around the kitchen. Toast had popped up, to be spread with golden, creamy goodness and sprinkled with a shower of silver and bronze delight. WHHHHHHHoooooooo! The clear crisp whistle of the hot steam shooting through the kettle was silenced as her father lifted it up and poured the bubbling, steaming, liquid into two brightly colored mugs. The tails of two tea sachets peeked over the edge. She uncurled herself from the chair and padded into the kitchen. Peering over the edge of the counter she looked at her hero’s handy work. “Grab some milk!” He whispered as he pulled on the tea tails to take them to the trash. She turned to the refrigerator and pulled open the door—the cold air making her curl her toes along the floor. She brought him the milk and he put it on the counter and lifted her up so she could watch. As she watched the milk created creamy clouds in the depths of the mug. Handing her a spoon he cautioned “Careful, now” as she shakily spooned in the glistening grains. He swung her off the counter and gave her the plate of cinnamon toast as he carried the steaming mugs to the table. As she clambered up onto the chair he went to the bookshelf and brought out the BIG book of the Universe. They flipped through the pages as they crunched on their toast and sipped their tea. The illustrations and myths about the planets and stars starting to swim before her eyes. “Ok, pumpkin, time for bed.” “NOOO!” She whispered back, “I’m not tired yet, PROMISE!” Shaking his head knowingly they carried their cups to the sink to be quickly washed. He scooped her up in his strong arms and carried her back downstairs to her cozy bed—careful not to wake her slumbering sisters. She crawled back under the covers; cool now that they’d been empty so long. Giving him one last kiss goodnight, “Night daddy! Thank you!” she whispered. “Good night, sweetheart.” He replied tucking her covers closer around her. She snuggled back into their soft depths and closed her eyes as sleep washed over her—her dreams filled with the stories and myths of long ago.
Darkness cuddled around the sleeping child, holding her in warm cozy arms as she snoozed dreaming youthful, playful dreams. The house was quiet, the mummers and mumbles of conversation long since silenced by breathing and rustling of covers. It was night, the best night, a new moon, clear sky, a cinnamon toast and tea night.
“Jessie, Jessie” a low voice whispered as a gentle shake woke her from her slumbers. Wiping her eyes she rolled over, remembering at the last second to not roll too far, least she fall from her perch on the bed-in-the-wall.
“Daddy?” she whispered back “what’s wrong?”
“You have to come see this” her daddy, her hero, murmured as he lifted her up in his big strong arms and carried her out of the room. Her sisters snuggled sleeping in their beds unaware of the adventure that was happening around them. “See what daddy?” She whispered, her excitement wiping away the last cobwebs of sleep from her brain. Giggling under her breath at the thought of what they would be missing.
Her daddy wrapped her in his fuzzy, faded, flannel sweater; the one she loved to sleep with that carried that comforting smell of her hero. He carried her up the stairs and outside into the arms of the night. It took a while for her eyes to adjust to the dark. Her daddy had not turned on any lights, nor brought a flashlight to guide their way. She looked around, felt the cool mountain breeze sliding through the trees, the sound, soothing, reminiscent of the waves crashing on a beach. Her naked toes wiggled, tickled by the fingers of wind that passed by. Her daddy placed her down gently on the cold, hard asphalt as he settled next to her. “Lay back and look up,” he whispered.
Before her eyes spread this glorious velvet canvas, sprinkled with thousands of glittering, sparkling diamonds. “Wow” she breathed; somehow it felt necessary to speak in whispers while looking at these shards of heaven, twinkling down upon them. They lay, side by side, her daddy pointing out the heroes and creatures, the stories in the stars. Orion, the great hunter, for eternity chasing the seven beautiful sisters, the Pleiades, across the wheel of the sky. Tarus, the brawny bull, intervening on Artimis’ order, his red eye gleaming among the drops of white. Cassiopeia, the vain queen who put her daughters up against Aphrodite in a contest of beauty, and in punishment was thrown upside down into the heavens.
The blacktop soaked up her body heat, stealing it away until shivers made her body twitch. “Are you cold, pumpkin?” Her daddy whispered, turning his head to check on her. “Yeth” she lisped out, her teeth chattering against each other. Her hero scooped her up in his warm strong arms, holding her close to his heart. Over his shoulder she took a final peek at the winking drops of light. They snuck back into the house, tiptoeing across the creaky, groaning, floorboards to the kitchen. One small light illuminated the kitchen as her daddy set her down at the sturdy brown table and tucked the warm fuzzy sweater closer around her.
As she watched he filled the shiny black teapot with water, the rushing, shushing, sound of the water filling the pot echoed through the silence. He placed it carefully on the stove and clicked of the knob so the coil ignited. She listened as he started to sing, his voice reminding her of her favorite singer, Raffi. “Listen to the rhythm of the falling rain, telling me just what a fool I’ve been…” Curled up in her chair she was warm, and cozy, fighting sleep; it’s silken voice calling her to bed. She blinked.
DING! Her eyes flew open. Her dad was still singing and moving around the kitchen. Toast had popped up, to be spread with golden, creamy goodness and sprinkled with a shower of silver and bronze delight. WHHHHHHHoooooooo! The clear crisp whistle of the hot steam shooting through the kettle was silenced as her father lifted it up and poured the bubbling, steaming, liquid into two brightly colored mugs. The tails of two tea sachets peeked over the edge. She uncurled herself from the chair and padded into the kitchen. Peering over the edge of the counter she looked at her hero’s handy work. “Grab some milk!” He whispered as he pulled on the tea tails to take them to the trash. She turned to the refrigerator and pulled open the door—the cold air making her curl her toes along the floor. She brought him the milk and he put it on the counter and lifted her up so she could watch. As she watched the milk created creamy clouds in the depths of the mug. Handing her a spoon he cautioned “Careful, now” as she shakily spooned in the glistening grains. He swung her off the counter and gave her the plate of cinnamon toast as he carried the steaming mugs to the table. As she clambered up onto the chair he went to the bookshelf and brought out the BIG book of the Universe. They flipped through the pages as they crunched on their toast and sipped their tea. The illustrations and myths about the planets and stars starting to swim before her eyes. “Ok, pumpkin, time for bed.” “NOOO!” She whispered back, “I’m not tired yet, PROMISE!” Shaking his head knowingly they carried their cups to the sink to be quickly washed. He scooped her up in his strong arms and carried her back downstairs to her cozy bed—careful not to wake her slumbering sisters. She crawled back under the covers; cool now that they’d been empty so long. Giving him one last kiss goodnight, “Night daddy! Thank you!” she whispered. “Good night, sweetheart.” He replied tucking her covers closer around her. She snuggled back into their soft depths and closed her eyes as sleep washed over her—her dreams filled with the stories and myths of long ago.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Lesson Plan: Opinion
Name: Jessica Garcia
Length of Time: 90 min
Grade:1
Common Core Standards:
w.1.1 write opinion pieces in which they introduce the name of book, state an opinion, reason for opinion, and closure
Content Concepts: Write and support an Opinion
GLO’S: Self Directed Learner- students can work on their own, managing their time to complete the assignment. Community contributor-students can share in the whole group/small group discussions at the beginning and end of the lessons.
Ojectives: Student will write an opinion about the book read and be able to state a reason for their opinion
Assessment(s) and or Evaluation:
Students are able to clearly state their opinion and support their opinion.
3-students are able to give one reason to support their opinion
2-students are able to give an opinion but not a reason why the have that opinion
1-students are unable to state an opinion but can tell the book that we were using
0-students are not able to put anything on the paper.
Resources:
-The Little Mouse, the RED Ripe Strawberry, and the BIG HUNGRY BEAR by Don and Audry Wood
-Chart paper
-Individual writing paper for students
Beginning Procedures (Lesson Introduction/Anticipatory Set/Connection to Prior Knowledge)
Call students to group meeting area. Have a whole group discussion on the differences between fact and opinion. Use examples like it is a fact that an apple is a fruit, but if you like to eat apples that is your opinion. Have students discuss if everyone needs to have the same opinion as someone else. (guide discussion so students gain understanding that having other opinions are ok) Also, model and discuss that you have to be able to tell WHY you have that opinion. I do not like coconut because it makes my stomach upset when I eat it. I like chocolate because it is sweet. I like going to to movies because… BECAUSE is the key word in their writing
GO over rubric for writing: Show what it would look like.
TO GET A 3 You need: Name on your paper, The title of the book, your opinion AND a reason why you have that opinion.
Middle Procedures (Learning Activities)
Read story to students. Have them close their eyes (NO TALKING) and think about the story and have them decide “Is there really a bear?” Students grab writing paper and work individually on their opinion paper. Pull aside small group if there needs to be any modifications for diverse learners. Circulate while students are working asking their opinions etc.
Closing Procedures
Have students discuss their opinions with others at their table. Did they agree or disagree. Table groups pick ONE or TWO people to share out to the class their opinions.
Modifications for Diverse Learners:
Re-read the story and allow students to use the book to look for support.
Verbal opinions while teacher or peer writes down for them.
Teacher’s Reflection on Lesson:
This was a different lesson when geared towards writing rather than a reading standard. It will be interesting to see how this goes next year when I do this lesson this way rather than an verbal discussion in a reading lesson like I did this year and the year before. I need to find a few more ambiguous texts that will help my students formulate opinions. I think this lesson will have to be moved to the end part of the year as writing is a very stressful content area for this age group. I want to practice with simpler texts and scaffold more for opinions in general.
Length of Time: 90 min
Grade:1
Common Core Standards:
w.1.1 write opinion pieces in which they introduce the name of book, state an opinion, reason for opinion, and closure
Content Concepts: Write and support an Opinion
GLO’S: Self Directed Learner- students can work on their own, managing their time to complete the assignment. Community contributor-students can share in the whole group/small group discussions at the beginning and end of the lessons.
Ojectives: Student will write an opinion about the book read and be able to state a reason for their opinion
Assessment(s) and or Evaluation:
Students are able to clearly state their opinion and support their opinion.
3-students are able to give one reason to support their opinion
2-students are able to give an opinion but not a reason why the have that opinion
1-students are unable to state an opinion but can tell the book that we were using
0-students are not able to put anything on the paper.
Resources:
-The Little Mouse, the RED Ripe Strawberry, and the BIG HUNGRY BEAR by Don and Audry Wood
-Chart paper
-Individual writing paper for students
Beginning Procedures (Lesson Introduction/Anticipatory Set/Connection to Prior Knowledge)
Call students to group meeting area. Have a whole group discussion on the differences between fact and opinion. Use examples like it is a fact that an apple is a fruit, but if you like to eat apples that is your opinion. Have students discuss if everyone needs to have the same opinion as someone else. (guide discussion so students gain understanding that having other opinions are ok) Also, model and discuss that you have to be able to tell WHY you have that opinion. I do not like coconut because it makes my stomach upset when I eat it. I like chocolate because it is sweet. I like going to to movies because… BECAUSE is the key word in their writing
GO over rubric for writing: Show what it would look like.
TO GET A 3 You need: Name on your paper, The title of the book, your opinion AND a reason why you have that opinion.
Middle Procedures (Learning Activities)
Read story to students. Have them close their eyes (NO TALKING) and think about the story and have them decide “Is there really a bear?” Students grab writing paper and work individually on their opinion paper. Pull aside small group if there needs to be any modifications for diverse learners. Circulate while students are working asking their opinions etc.
Closing Procedures
Have students discuss their opinions with others at their table. Did they agree or disagree. Table groups pick ONE or TWO people to share out to the class their opinions.
Modifications for Diverse Learners:
Re-read the story and allow students to use the book to look for support.
Verbal opinions while teacher or peer writes down for them.
Teacher’s Reflection on Lesson:
This was a different lesson when geared towards writing rather than a reading standard. It will be interesting to see how this goes next year when I do this lesson this way rather than an verbal discussion in a reading lesson like I did this year and the year before. I need to find a few more ambiguous texts that will help my students formulate opinions. I think this lesson will have to be moved to the end part of the year as writing is a very stressful content area for this age group. I want to practice with simpler texts and scaffold more for opinions in general.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Research question
How will using literature as a focus for my mini-lesson improve my students' writing?
Tangled Tongue
Over the course of my childhood I was very blessed to have had many amazing teachers. They all taught me academic things, or character building things, or even I-want- to-be-a-teacher-myself things. There were two teachers who taught me many of the characteristics-a-teacher-should-have things by doing those things for me when I was a child. These two teachers were my mentors, supporters, cheerleaders, and motivators for five long, struggling years. They taught me caring, empathy, patience, perseverance, hard work, confidence, and laughter were essential to being an inspiring teacher. These two teachers were there through the years of my tangled tongue.
From the first day of Kindergarten I loved school, I loved the meeting new people, the reading, not so much the math, but school was an adventure…except for one thing.
“Hey!—You!—Girl!” yelled the big boy behind me on the bus. His eyes were squished up as his grin sneered across his face, “Say, six slimy snails sailed slowly south!” Trustingly, I replied, “Thikth thimy thnailth thailed thlowly thouth.” carefully pronouncing each word as clearly as my 4 year old self could do. The bus erupted with laughter as everyone jeered at my tangled tongue. “BABY!” the boy, who had started this whole nightmare, yelled as I sunk lower in my seat. “What was wrong with me?” I wondered. Why would, no matter how hard I tried, my tongue betray me!
Kindergarten was fun, I loved my teacher, though for my tangled tongue her name always came out as Mtheth Thathaki instead of Mrs. Sakaki. Being a social butterfly by nature, I had friends who didn’t mind my tangled way of speech. They understood me, even if I had to repeat things one, or two, or a few times. It still hurt, though, when someone would tease my “baby” speech—a wound, a cut, to my heart that I hid quite well behind my talkative, smiling, demeanor.
One day, a few months into school, a new lady teacher came to the class and asked me to come sit on the steps and talk with her. She introduced herself as Mrs. Stewart. She had a soft voice and held herself like what I imagined a princess would. Her welcoming smile and quiet movements were mesmerizing. Mrs. Steward seemed, to my mind, the classic “teacher.” Her neat, elegent dress was accented with gorgeous high heel shoes, perfectly applied make-up and coifed hair. “Wow!” I thought, “She’s gorgeous! I wonder why she wants to talk to me?!”
This teacher and her elegance were almost the exact opposite of the picture I must have presented. My crazy, wild hair curled and collided, creating a riotous halo around my head. My clothes were proudly picked out by myself, a cacophony of chaos, flowered shirt put on backwards with striped pants, rubber slippers with day-glow green slouch socks, and, of course, something pink and glittery was always included. My voice piped, chattering and lisping incessantly, singing random lyrics and humming tunes through out our conversation. In constant motion, swinging my short little legs, tapping out a rhythm only I could hear, flicking my hair out of my eyes, I squirmed and squiggled on the sturdy brown steps—not that I was nervous, in fact it was the opposite. Meeting people was so exhilarating that containing that excitement was always a challenge for me. I felt like a bottle of soda that had been shaken just a little too much and bubbles of energy were just waiting to burst out of me! Having this gorgeous teacher’s attention all to my self was incredibly exciting. Granted, I loved having anyone’s attention all to myself, but being singled out to receive that attention, I could barely contain my enthusiasm as I chattered on answering her questions, and in general talking her ear off—“My name was Jethica, yeth I liked thcool, I wath learning how to read and write. Mtheth Thathaki was the bethteth teacher ever! I didn’t like math but loved retheth, and art, and thienth, and reading, and lunch, and library. Did you know that we can take out our own bookth! I wath the youngetht, I and had three older thithterth.” We chatted, or I should say, I chattered, for a while, while Mrs. Stewart listened patiently to my rambling. I was so happy to be the center of someone’s attention that when she sent me back into the class with a reminder that I would see her tomorrow and meet another teacher, Mrs. Shimaoka, I was greatly disappointed. But, ever the optimist, I tripped back into Mrs. Sasaki’s class and joined back into the flowing conversations at my table. “What did she want?” my table mates asked in whispers. I shrugged, “I donno, but she’s nithe!”
Mrs. Shimaoka was very much like Mrs. Stewart. She, too, held herself like a princess. Her curly hair was neatly pulled back and her make up was just as elegant as Mrs. Stewart. Her somber colored dress matched her shoes and her dangling earrings immediately drew my attention. “WOW!” I though, “I’m the luckiest person in the world!” Mrs. Stewart and Mrs Shimaoka explained that they were going to help me work on pronouncing the ‘s’ sound and speaking clearly. I was slightly nervous but highly thrilled that they were going to help me with my tangled speech. They played games with me and made me do things that I thought were funny. I had to make faces in a mirror while saying different sounds, I had to swallow water or juice and keep my tongue in a particular spot in my mouth. Who knew that there was a right way to position your tongue? I had to say different tongue twisters, slowly, rather than quickly. I had to focus or I’d trip and slip and my tangled tongue would end the sentence in fits of giggles. All of these had one thing in common. That small, seemingly insignificant sound, ‘s’.
A year went by, twice a week I met with Mrs. Stewart or Mrs. Shimaoka. This was hard! I had homework to do and reminders to remember about my mouth and tongue positions for sounds. It seemed like this was taking forever! Shouldn’t I be making more progress than this? Shouldn’t I be cured of my tangled tongue by now? Mrs. Stewart and Mrs. Shimaoka never let me feel defeated for long. They pushed and prodded me, gave me encouragement, and slowly but surely I was able to say words that had an ‘s’ at the beginning. I was ecstatic that day, that day my tongue didn’t trip as I slowly said my silly sentence. “Sally swept the slippery sloppy swing,” clearly creating each ‘s’. My teachers clapped and cheered and I took a sweeping bow! I had done it!
More time passed. I worked hard in my regular classes and I looked forward to my time with my speech teachers. Every year they were there to work with me, giving me new things to practice and remember. My tangled tongue was slowly becoming less tangled. I could now say beginning and ending ‘s’ sounds, but when this annoying letter was placed in the middle of a word my tongue betrayed me. How embarrassing is it to have a name that you can’t pronounce properly. No matter how hard I worked or how slowly I said it, it always came out as, “Jethica.” This didn’t stop me from talking, I was too much of a chatter-box by nature, and my friends stuck by me, as my snarled speech slowly became more clear.
A retainer, a contraption of metal and plastic formed to fit my mouth was the next step. Forcing my tangled tongue to work properly, 3 metal prongs protruded from top of the retainer—fangs. A new name was thought up on the field, no longer “Baby” I had become “Vampire.” This device in my mouth was a last ditch effort to force my tongue to behave. We worked hard, Mrs. Stewart, Mrs. Shimaoka and I. Working tirelessly, supporting me when my spirits flagged, they patiently helped me learn to manage my frustrations and anger towards my embarrassing impediment. I felt like I was fighting my tongue. Some days I felt like crying after one of our sessions. Would my tongue ever become untangled?
I still liked school and was still the most talkative student in class. I overcompensated for my embarrassment by flinging my self into conversations, while inside I was frustrated with my inability to say that one specific sound. After long hard months I could do it. I could FINALLY say my name. For something as precious as one’s name being able to pronounce your own after years and years of working for it is an exhilarating feeling. Jessica, Jessica, I could do it!! Mrs. Stewart and Mrs. Shimaoka were there for my triumph. They were there to cheer me on as I rounded out for my final big test. That test came a few weeks after my success with my name. One tongue twister after another, I beat them all like a warrior against a beast. One by one they fell, my tongue finally untangled itself and did what I wanted it to do.
Now, many years later my tongue sometimes still trips and tangles upon itself, usually only when I’m tired and or so excited that I’m zooming through my words. Thanks to Mrs. Stewart and Mrs. Shimaoka my snarled speech, my tangle of frustration was over. More than that, they taught me the importance of compassion, patience, and persistence when working with children. They taught me that laughter and hard work build confidence. They taught me that believing in a child will make them believe in themselves, and THAT will make anything possible!
From the first day of Kindergarten I loved school, I loved the meeting new people, the reading, not so much the math, but school was an adventure…except for one thing.
“Hey!—You!—Girl!” yelled the big boy behind me on the bus. His eyes were squished up as his grin sneered across his face, “Say, six slimy snails sailed slowly south!” Trustingly, I replied, “Thikth thimy thnailth thailed thlowly thouth.” carefully pronouncing each word as clearly as my 4 year old self could do. The bus erupted with laughter as everyone jeered at my tangled tongue. “BABY!” the boy, who had started this whole nightmare, yelled as I sunk lower in my seat. “What was wrong with me?” I wondered. Why would, no matter how hard I tried, my tongue betray me!
Kindergarten was fun, I loved my teacher, though for my tangled tongue her name always came out as Mtheth Thathaki instead of Mrs. Sakaki. Being a social butterfly by nature, I had friends who didn’t mind my tangled way of speech. They understood me, even if I had to repeat things one, or two, or a few times. It still hurt, though, when someone would tease my “baby” speech—a wound, a cut, to my heart that I hid quite well behind my talkative, smiling, demeanor.
One day, a few months into school, a new lady teacher came to the class and asked me to come sit on the steps and talk with her. She introduced herself as Mrs. Stewart. She had a soft voice and held herself like what I imagined a princess would. Her welcoming smile and quiet movements were mesmerizing. Mrs. Steward seemed, to my mind, the classic “teacher.” Her neat, elegent dress was accented with gorgeous high heel shoes, perfectly applied make-up and coifed hair. “Wow!” I thought, “She’s gorgeous! I wonder why she wants to talk to me?!”
This teacher and her elegance were almost the exact opposite of the picture I must have presented. My crazy, wild hair curled and collided, creating a riotous halo around my head. My clothes were proudly picked out by myself, a cacophony of chaos, flowered shirt put on backwards with striped pants, rubber slippers with day-glow green slouch socks, and, of course, something pink and glittery was always included. My voice piped, chattering and lisping incessantly, singing random lyrics and humming tunes through out our conversation. In constant motion, swinging my short little legs, tapping out a rhythm only I could hear, flicking my hair out of my eyes, I squirmed and squiggled on the sturdy brown steps—not that I was nervous, in fact it was the opposite. Meeting people was so exhilarating that containing that excitement was always a challenge for me. I felt like a bottle of soda that had been shaken just a little too much and bubbles of energy were just waiting to burst out of me! Having this gorgeous teacher’s attention all to my self was incredibly exciting. Granted, I loved having anyone’s attention all to myself, but being singled out to receive that attention, I could barely contain my enthusiasm as I chattered on answering her questions, and in general talking her ear off—“My name was Jethica, yeth I liked thcool, I wath learning how to read and write. Mtheth Thathaki was the bethteth teacher ever! I didn’t like math but loved retheth, and art, and thienth, and reading, and lunch, and library. Did you know that we can take out our own bookth! I wath the youngetht, I and had three older thithterth.” We chatted, or I should say, I chattered, for a while, while Mrs. Stewart listened patiently to my rambling. I was so happy to be the center of someone’s attention that when she sent me back into the class with a reminder that I would see her tomorrow and meet another teacher, Mrs. Shimaoka, I was greatly disappointed. But, ever the optimist, I tripped back into Mrs. Sasaki’s class and joined back into the flowing conversations at my table. “What did she want?” my table mates asked in whispers. I shrugged, “I donno, but she’s nithe!”
Mrs. Shimaoka was very much like Mrs. Stewart. She, too, held herself like a princess. Her curly hair was neatly pulled back and her make up was just as elegant as Mrs. Stewart. Her somber colored dress matched her shoes and her dangling earrings immediately drew my attention. “WOW!” I though, “I’m the luckiest person in the world!” Mrs. Stewart and Mrs Shimaoka explained that they were going to help me work on pronouncing the ‘s’ sound and speaking clearly. I was slightly nervous but highly thrilled that they were going to help me with my tangled speech. They played games with me and made me do things that I thought were funny. I had to make faces in a mirror while saying different sounds, I had to swallow water or juice and keep my tongue in a particular spot in my mouth. Who knew that there was a right way to position your tongue? I had to say different tongue twisters, slowly, rather than quickly. I had to focus or I’d trip and slip and my tangled tongue would end the sentence in fits of giggles. All of these had one thing in common. That small, seemingly insignificant sound, ‘s’.
A year went by, twice a week I met with Mrs. Stewart or Mrs. Shimaoka. This was hard! I had homework to do and reminders to remember about my mouth and tongue positions for sounds. It seemed like this was taking forever! Shouldn’t I be making more progress than this? Shouldn’t I be cured of my tangled tongue by now? Mrs. Stewart and Mrs. Shimaoka never let me feel defeated for long. They pushed and prodded me, gave me encouragement, and slowly but surely I was able to say words that had an ‘s’ at the beginning. I was ecstatic that day, that day my tongue didn’t trip as I slowly said my silly sentence. “Sally swept the slippery sloppy swing,” clearly creating each ‘s’. My teachers clapped and cheered and I took a sweeping bow! I had done it!
More time passed. I worked hard in my regular classes and I looked forward to my time with my speech teachers. Every year they were there to work with me, giving me new things to practice and remember. My tangled tongue was slowly becoming less tangled. I could now say beginning and ending ‘s’ sounds, but when this annoying letter was placed in the middle of a word my tongue betrayed me. How embarrassing is it to have a name that you can’t pronounce properly. No matter how hard I worked or how slowly I said it, it always came out as, “Jethica.” This didn’t stop me from talking, I was too much of a chatter-box by nature, and my friends stuck by me, as my snarled speech slowly became more clear.
A retainer, a contraption of metal and plastic formed to fit my mouth was the next step. Forcing my tangled tongue to work properly, 3 metal prongs protruded from top of the retainer—fangs. A new name was thought up on the field, no longer “Baby” I had become “Vampire.” This device in my mouth was a last ditch effort to force my tongue to behave. We worked hard, Mrs. Stewart, Mrs. Shimaoka and I. Working tirelessly, supporting me when my spirits flagged, they patiently helped me learn to manage my frustrations and anger towards my embarrassing impediment. I felt like I was fighting my tongue. Some days I felt like crying after one of our sessions. Would my tongue ever become untangled?
I still liked school and was still the most talkative student in class. I overcompensated for my embarrassment by flinging my self into conversations, while inside I was frustrated with my inability to say that one specific sound. After long hard months I could do it. I could FINALLY say my name. For something as precious as one’s name being able to pronounce your own after years and years of working for it is an exhilarating feeling. Jessica, Jessica, I could do it!! Mrs. Stewart and Mrs. Shimaoka were there for my triumph. They were there to cheer me on as I rounded out for my final big test. That test came a few weeks after my success with my name. One tongue twister after another, I beat them all like a warrior against a beast. One by one they fell, my tongue finally untangled itself and did what I wanted it to do.
Now, many years later my tongue sometimes still trips and tangles upon itself, usually only when I’m tired and or so excited that I’m zooming through my words. Thanks to Mrs. Stewart and Mrs. Shimaoka my snarled speech, my tangle of frustration was over. More than that, they taught me the importance of compassion, patience, and persistence when working with children. They taught me that laughter and hard work build confidence. They taught me that believing in a child will make them believe in themselves, and THAT will make anything possible!
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Chapter 5 (The art of classroom Inquiry): The Legacy of Distant Teachers
-Imagine a dinner part for twelve where we can invite anyone we want, living or dead. The catch, of course, is that these twelve folks are going to discuss our research project.
-Other researchers may have investigated the same area, and their work can often aid our investigations.
-Be open to serendipity; we've found that we stumble across interesting references that beckon to be explored in surprising places--from reviews, and editorials in newspapers to discussion son the current alternative music scene with neo-Bohemian adolescents.
Which database of articles are we going to have access to for our research questions?
-Other researchers may have investigated the same area, and their work can often aid our investigations.
-Be open to serendipity; we've found that we stumble across interesting references that beckon to be explored in surprising places--from reviews, and editorials in newspapers to discussion son the current alternative music scene with neo-Bohemian adolescents.
Which database of articles are we going to have access to for our research questions?
Chapter 7 Literature in the Writing Workshop
--We write with our minds, our hearts, and our ears. Some readers tell great stories because they intrinsically know the pattern of a good story, they are usually good, avid readers. As a teacher we need to involve our students in good literature to inspire their story telling. As a teacher and as a writer I've seen that the more my students read the better their writing skills become.
--Reading aloud: Reading aloud not only builds the sense of community in the classroom it also helps show the students the elements of writing in "mentor texts." I know in my own writing that this has helped me to become a better writer. For my students the students who love to read are also the one's who love to write. By giving my students a variety of read aloud experiences I can help their writing improve.
--Independent reading: This allows students to "discover a genre or author they love...the models..to help them learn from." Mentor texts allows students to see a range of writing and incorporate elements they enjoy from their "mentors" into their own writing. This independent time to read gives students a chance to find their "taste" in books.
--Book Discussions: In my class I call these "book talks." I can bridge this from a purely "reading" centered part of my class and use well known or loved books to talk about the "how" of the writing and what an author did to make a particular book "good."
--Using literature during a workshop minilesson: I really like the list of books to facilitate the elements of writing that the authors of this book gave in this chapter. It also talks about by sharing literature with the students it gives the students a choice of genre/topics for their own writing. I know in my class we touch on a variety of genres through out the course of the year. This makes them excited for the end of the year when they get to choose their own type of writing. They feel more empowered and are much more self-directed when they are given "choices" for their own learning.
--Using literature in Teacher/Student Confrences: Using the literature that your students enjoy you can help them make the connections to what they are trying to write with models from favorite authors, or authors they are familiar with.
One of my favorite quotes was this "We need to tap their experience as readers if we really want them to soar." This chapter gave me many great ideas of how to formulate my minilessons for next years' students!
--Reading aloud: Reading aloud not only builds the sense of community in the classroom it also helps show the students the elements of writing in "mentor texts." I know in my own writing that this has helped me to become a better writer. For my students the students who love to read are also the one's who love to write. By giving my students a variety of read aloud experiences I can help their writing improve.
--Independent reading: This allows students to "discover a genre or author they love...the models..to help them learn from." Mentor texts allows students to see a range of writing and incorporate elements they enjoy from their "mentors" into their own writing. This independent time to read gives students a chance to find their "taste" in books.
--Book Discussions: In my class I call these "book talks." I can bridge this from a purely "reading" centered part of my class and use well known or loved books to talk about the "how" of the writing and what an author did to make a particular book "good."
--Using literature during a workshop minilesson: I really like the list of books to facilitate the elements of writing that the authors of this book gave in this chapter. It also talks about by sharing literature with the students it gives the students a choice of genre/topics for their own writing. I know in my class we touch on a variety of genres through out the course of the year. This makes them excited for the end of the year when they get to choose their own type of writing. They feel more empowered and are much more self-directed when they are given "choices" for their own learning.
--Using literature in Teacher/Student Confrences: Using the literature that your students enjoy you can help them make the connections to what they are trying to write with models from favorite authors, or authors they are familiar with.
One of my favorite quotes was this "We need to tap their experience as readers if we really want them to soar." This chapter gave me many great ideas of how to formulate my minilessons for next years' students!
The Final Dance
A serge of music
Sweeping over a body
Transported to a different
Time and place.
Arms outstretched, reaching
Waiting for that
Inhale
A drop of music
A light slowly lifts
Illuminating a dancer
Slowly, surely, twisting, turning
Reaching, folding
Flowing across the space.
A rush of Joy
Infusing a body
Delighting in the
Freedom of motion
Spinning a tale
A sense of wonder
Within
The ebb of music
Releasing a mind and body
Returning to
Time and place
Arms outstretched, reaching
Finally allowed to
Exhale.
Sweeping over a body
Transported to a different
Time and place.
Arms outstretched, reaching
Waiting for that
Inhale
A drop of music
A light slowly lifts
Illuminating a dancer
Slowly, surely, twisting, turning
Reaching, folding
Flowing across the space.
A rush of Joy
Infusing a body
Delighting in the
Freedom of motion
Spinning a tale
A sense of wonder
Within
The ebb of music
Releasing a mind and body
Returning to
Time and place
Arms outstretched, reaching
Finally allowed to
Exhale.
My mom used to say that if I could get away with it I’d dance everywhere. I’d dance in parking lots waiting for my family to unload from the van. I’d dance, skipping and twirling through the grocery store using the slippery stage to get the best turns. I’d dance on my way to class. I’d dance, swaying and shifting, while chatting with friends. I’d pretend to be a ballerina twirling across the field. I’d dance, a making all my own. Eight years of Hula, thirteen years of piano, and seven years of chorus all developed my sense of rhythm, musicality and love of all things dance. I think I danced because when I wasn’t dancing I became this clumsy, tottering, awkward body, fighting gravity not trip and fall. My parents bought me my own pair of crutches, torture sticks, because I broke and sprained my ankles so many times it was pointless to keep renting some. For some reason, when I was dancing I never had that fear of falling, crashing to the ground.
In college I took a dance class every semester, Ballet, Jazz, Modern, Choreography, Creative Movement. I was never the prima ballerina, and didn’t really want to be. I just wanted to dance. That freedom of movement, that joyful breath of life, would take over my soul and send me reaching beyond myself. I would practice at midnight, above the dorms on the darkened street, illuminated only by streetlights and this joy of movement. The twists and turns of motion would erase any fevered tears, or frantic thoughts. My favorite time was when it was raining, I’d dance feeling perfectly free, delight bubbling up to come out through my movements.
After four adventurous, exciting years this was to be my last dance, the last time I would have to show what joy I got from dance. A last time to express my love of motion on that ebony ocean of applause.
I stand in the middle of that vast stage. My hair intricately braided with tinsel and slivery feathers. My ice blue dress floats around me as I stretch and breathe behind that crimson fall of fabric. Flecks of glitter on my arms glimmer and sparkle as they catch the glow of the stage lights in the wings. There are the muffled mummers and chatter, an ebb and flow of conversation, on the other side, waiting for the cue to quiet. I find my spot and sit, shivering in the air conditioned space. I close my eyes, eyelashes dusting my cheeks. A deep breath in, exhale—a flutter of butterflies tumble and twist in my stomach. The lights go dark as a hush fills the space. A distant rumble as the heavy curtain is raised to a dark stage. Inhale.
A soft serge of music as a single glow of light illuminates where I sit. I start to move. No longer am I this clumsy, awkward body, fighting gravity for balance and grace. The music has infused my body, transporting me to a different time and place. I twist and turn, stretching and folding I flow across the space. Alone, I spin a tale of wonder, and warmth, and Love. I pour out my joy, my strength, and delight in the freedom of motion. The music ebbs, releasing my mind and body, returning me to the time and place. My arms outstretched, reaching, eyes finally focusing on the here and now. Exhale.
The crash of applause startles me out of my reverie.
Dance will always be a part of my life, but as a final exit to performing, I could not have asked for a better way to experience my final dance.
Chapter 4: Launching the Workshop
-Reading before writing, , creating a "list" of what to write about--these things I did for certain sections of my writing curriculum last year but I definitely want to incorporate more this coming year. In our sacred writing time hearing the story read aloud gives me many more ideas of what I want to write about for that day.
-the minilesson: biggest decision, first decision is what to write about. This for my kids is always the hardest part. and then giving them a choice of paper, this I think could make for a bit chaotic but successful writing session.
-Writing while they write. I didn't try this last year, but I really want to try it this year. I want to show my students that I am a writer too. What better way to model for them what I want that to do it with them. Celebrate their writing FIRST ask questions to make their writing more clear or to help someone get started. This will make writing, hopefully, less stressful for the students. I know I need to work on this, sometimes we forget that students need to hear what they did well as well as what they need to work on.
-share time: share just a passage or page, response questions :what you learned, what they did well, what questions do you have. Have the kids respond to the student not to you. This, I think will make the students take more ownership of their writing.
--continuing writing the second day have a set of procedures for the "I'm done" students. What worked for me the past to years was "I'm not done, I've just begun. STOP! re-read, add to the picture, add to the words, or start a new piece." It trained my students to know exactly what to do when they were done so they weren't interrupting my conferences AND it made them read what they had written. Many kids would make changes to their writing before starting the next piece.
--3 rules: use quiet voices, don't interrupt, everybody writes. I think I may make this into a poster to put up on my wall for writing workshop. Having a ritual and routine in place for this block of time will really make it so that my students can get the most out of their writing block and that I can conference with them and channel their enthusiasm to become great writers.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Thikth thimy thnailth thailed thlowly thouth
Again and again my tongue would betray me
Tripping and slipping,
A tangle of frustration whenever I spoke.
Two teachers were there
Two mentors, two supporters, cheerleaders and motivators
The five long, struggling years of my tangled tongue.
Months went by
They pushed and prodded me
Giving me encouragement,
Slowly but surely I was untangling my words
I was ecstatic that day
That day that I didn’t trip over my tongue.
Beginning ‘s’ and ending ‘s’ I had mastered them
More time passed,
How embarrassing is it to have a name you can’t pronounce
A name that no matter how hard you try or how slowly you say it
It always comes out wrong.
Those ‘s’s in the middle they were my downfall.
Years went by
No matter how my spirits flagged they were there
Patiently helping me to fight my tangled tongue
FINALLY
I could do it!
I could say MY name!
JESSICA
Not long after was my final test
One tongue twister after another
I beat them all like a warrior against a beast
They fell
My tongue untangled and did what
I wanted it to do.
My snarled speech my tangle of frustration was over
It still sometimes trips and slips
But more importantly
I learned that
Compassion, patience, persistence
Laughter and hard work build confidence
Believing in a child will make them believe in themselves
THAT will make ANYTHING possible.
Tripping and slipping,
A tangle of frustration whenever I spoke.
Two teachers were there
Two mentors, two supporters, cheerleaders and motivators
The five long, struggling years of my tangled tongue.
Months went by
They pushed and prodded me
Giving me encouragement,
Slowly but surely I was untangling my words
I was ecstatic that day
That day that I didn’t trip over my tongue.
Beginning ‘s’ and ending ‘s’ I had mastered them
More time passed,
How embarrassing is it to have a name you can’t pronounce
A name that no matter how hard you try or how slowly you say it
It always comes out wrong.
Those ‘s’s in the middle they were my downfall.
Years went by
No matter how my spirits flagged they were there
Patiently helping me to fight my tangled tongue
FINALLY
I could do it!
I could say MY name!
JESSICA
Not long after was my final test
One tongue twister after another
I beat them all like a warrior against a beast
They fell
My tongue untangled and did what
I wanted it to do.
My snarled speech my tangle of frustration was over
It still sometimes trips and slips
But more importantly
I learned that
Compassion, patience, persistence
Laughter and hard work build confidence
Believing in a child will make them believe in themselves
THAT will make ANYTHING possible.
Chapter 2 The Essentials of Time and Space
A few things that stuck with me in this chapter and how they will impact my teaching are:
-"One day a week (of writing) will teach them (the students) to hate it." Having a predictable schedule every week, 3-5 times,the more the better, teaches the students that writing is important AND gives them the time to really understand more about the process that writing is. This past year it was really hard to schedule the writing block. It was in the afternoon and on certain weeks we had only 2 days to work while on the other weeks we had 4 days to work on it.
-"People need to be comfortable to do their best work" making writing areas in the room accessible to students will make the actual writing process more accessible to my students.
By going to the students instead of them coming to me others around them can also gain insight from what I tell the one I'm working with.
-"look at the walls" Posting things up on the walls where students can grab ideas of what to write on next, or what to do when their "done" will make it so they are more self-directed and you can have MORE time to conference with the students instead of putting out fires.
-'Be willing to change and make it work for THIS group of students" What worked last year may not work this year. The dynamics of my students and the area we inhabit 6 hours a day will need to fit what the needs of the current students are.
-"One day a week (of writing) will teach them (the students) to hate it." Having a predictable schedule every week, 3-5 times,the more the better, teaches the students that writing is important AND gives them the time to really understand more about the process that writing is. This past year it was really hard to schedule the writing block. It was in the afternoon and on certain weeks we had only 2 days to work while on the other weeks we had 4 days to work on it.
-"People need to be comfortable to do their best work" making writing areas in the room accessible to students will make the actual writing process more accessible to my students.
By going to the students instead of them coming to me others around them can also gain insight from what I tell the one I'm working with.
-"look at the walls" Posting things up on the walls where students can grab ideas of what to write on next, or what to do when their "done" will make it so they are more self-directed and you can have MORE time to conference with the students instead of putting out fires.
-'Be willing to change and make it work for THIS group of students" What worked last year may not work this year. The dynamics of my students and the area we inhabit 6 hours a day will need to fit what the needs of the current students are.
Heart's Cry
They
say your
stomach drops
when actually it
is your heart, sinking,
settling in your core; a
twisting, turning knot. That tickle
at the back of your throat and the itch
in your eye, where hot, salt liquid swims
soon overflow and tracks down your cheeks,
slipping and sliding to drip off your chin. Blinking,
a single diamond catches on a lash to softly drop and
land on a hand reaching to wipe a nose that now is as drippy
as a leaky faucet. Suddenly, comforting arms engulf you, and
warm whispers mummer in your ear; holding you close to a heart
that beats in time with yours. This warmth soon spreads to your heart,
that now slowly lifts from your core and settles back into it's rightful
place in your chest. The drips of hot, salt liquid start to slow,
while sniffles and hiccups turn into ragged breaths and then to calm.
Those arms that comfort, those words that soothe, that person
who came in your darkest hour, they know and understand
how a shoulder to cry on, and a hand to hold will help
to lift that heart that sunk, and dry those tears that
are cried, to stop those sniffles and hiccups
and make for a brighter and better
place in your heart. They know.
say your
stomach drops
when actually it
is your heart, sinking,
settling in your core; a
twisting, turning knot. That tickle
at the back of your throat and the itch
in your eye, where hot, salt liquid swims
soon overflow and tracks down your cheeks,
slipping and sliding to drip off your chin. Blinking,
a single diamond catches on a lash to softly drop and
land on a hand reaching to wipe a nose that now is as drippy
as a leaky faucet. Suddenly, comforting arms engulf you, and
warm whispers mummer in your ear; holding you close to a heart
that beats in time with yours. This warmth soon spreads to your heart,
that now slowly lifts from your core and settles back into it's rightful
place in your chest. The drips of hot, salt liquid start to slow,
while sniffles and hiccups turn into ragged breaths and then to calm.
Those arms that comfort, those words that soothe, that person
who came in your darkest hour, they know and understand
how a shoulder to cry on, and a hand to hold will help
to lift that heart that sunk, and dry those tears that
are cried, to stop those sniffles and hiccups
and make for a brighter and better
place in your heart. They know.
Monday, June 13, 2011
First day of LWP 2011
Today was the first day of the Lehua Writing Project. One thing I loved about today was the sacred writing time. I had not had a chance to just sit and write like this for a very long time. I didn't realize how much I had missed it. I really enjoyed writing and adding to the teaching narrative as well as the Name poem.
After the writing, having a focused but open-ended-ish format for the sharing made it so that I could focus on the crafting of the person's writing for the first reading, and on the second reading take in some of the deeper elements of their narrative. This type of sharing, along with the "shoulder partner" gave me some ideas of how to get my students to write more and give more constructive comments to their writing buddies.
One of the things that I will take with me from this first day is "No apologies, no explanations." This was a new thought for me in relation to my writing, and it was really hard for me to keep to this during my sharing.
Writing has always been a passion of mine, I used to sit and write stories, narratives, and poems down often. Getting back into the swing of writing things has definitely made me realize how important this is to my life and how I need to incorporate it back into my routine.
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