At the recent TALE conference, I presented on Fluency. While I had planned to recreate what I had learned in the Reading Academy about setting goals for kids and fluency, something more important happened instead.
It fits right in with what I am learning about blending reading, writing, and thinking. It fits right in with what I feel about breaking down complex work into such small segments that kids no longer have to think or reason nor do they see a purpose in such ridiculous endeavors. It fits right in with what I believe is our moral imperative as educators - to teach people how to USE what we teach to make meaning, make decisions, and change the world.
I'm also finding that a blog is no longer the best medium for my work. While a blog may be the best way I can get this information out to folks and to track who sees it, it's not curated for meaning. There's so much that went into this session that I want to share.
First, there is the reflection and lesson application that I created after leading the session at TALE. This link gives you access to the ideas and resources. But I can add a visual metaphor to it. I chose the one on this page because you must internalize theory and turn it into practice that gets used with students. See if you think the image helps convey that message.
Then, there is the the powerpoint I created with the notes and the linked resources to the session.
But more important. I know that I will keep learning about Fluency. And this blog post will drift down to the years and months of posts as I continue to write. And it will be lost. Sure, you could search for it. But you won't. Neither will I.
But I can create a static place that houses the resources that you can return to. And I can keep adding as I learn and grow. So here's the whole enchilada on Fluency.
Wednesday, February 28, 2018
Tuesday, February 27, 2018
Tools Not Rules
Gonna be blunt here. What we are doing with writing assessments isn't working. The way we grade papers and mark student compositions isn't working. How we talk to kids about their writing isn't working. The assignments and the very approach to writing instruction aren't working. But we are working very hard to find solutions.
Problem Number One: Our Approach
Katie Wood Ray writes in What are you Thinking?
I asked the first student I met with (who had written about four sentences) to tell me why she had decided to start her letter in the particular way she did. "What were you thinking?" I asked. As one of the observing teachers noted, the young girl looked at me as though she had just had a frontal lobotomy. All my wonderful wait time provided no answer. I finally realized it was because there wasn't any answer. I finally realized it was because there wasn't any answer. The student hadn't been asked to do any THINKING or decision-making at all. The topic had been assigned, a graphic organizer told her exactly what to include in each part, and when I sat down next to her, she was simply transferring information from the organizer to a [workshit - sorry - just can't spell it any other way] on which she was supposed to write the letter. The point is, it's difficult for student to answer questions about their thinking when the work they are doing doesn't require them to think. (2006, 59).
So that means that we need to get kids writing about things they care about and know about. We have to stop giving prompts and start using prewriting activities that help the kids mine their experiences and select their own topics. Here's my favorite prewriting activities from my writing notebook. Then we need to get them in groups with their peers. Let them read their writing to others. Let them talk with others about what their writing does to their peers as listeners and readers. Here's my favorite feedback grouping activities.
Problem Number Two: The way we give feedback.
We have to stop correcting papers. Lots of theories and research support that, but nobody really cares or has time for that. You don't want a post that spends the majority of the time telling you why I'm right. You want a post that tells you what to do instead.
Feedback has four levels. Task level feedback tells kids if they did stuff right or not. Process level feedback gives kids an idea of what they did as writers that worked well and why or what they could do instead. Self-Extending feedback does just that. It helps the writers figure out what they can do to keep growing even if the teacher isn't there to tell them what to fix. Self feedback is praise. Praise should never be used with writing or learning. It is actually harmful. (If you don't like that, we can argue about it later. I have tons of research to back it up.) (Hattie & Timperley, 2007).
So what does that look like when responding to a writer? Maja Wilson, in Reimagining Writing Assessment: From Scales to Stories gives us a place to start, even if she didn't pinpoint the levels of feedback I describe above.
The chart on pages 107 and 108 of her text describe techniques that she uses to help kids clarify their intentions/what the text is about, how to suggest adding more detail, suggesting deletions, and how to describe something that works. What she doesn't talk about is why what she suggests is going to actually help writers transfer their skills to the next writing performance. But I can tell you exactly why. Maja matches the level of feedback to what the writer needs to say - her intentions - AND how the writer might go about doing so better. None of the examples in the chart list self-extending levels of feedback. I don't know if that's because Maja purposefully didn't include that level or if she knew the writer wasn't at that stage yet. (We're supposed to match the level of feedback to just above where the student functions.) What I do know is that we are giving waaaay too much task level and praise level to writers - which is probably the main reason kids aren't growing in their ability to compose. Why not? Wilson describes Elbow's (1973) theory like this:
When we give task level feedback like "too much detail," we are "making an hypothesis or abstract theory about how writing works. However, when we we describe the test's effect on us, were's stating and empirical fact ("About two pages into the details about your eccentric neighbor I got really into picturing this crazy character with his little yapping dogs and argyle sweaters, but then I remembered that your profile is about your dad, and I did start wondering if your profile is really more about your neighbor") (Wilson, 2018).
This makes a lot of sense. I'd call this Task level feedback because it gives a movie of the teacher's mind (Elbow and Belanoff, 1989). The writer now knows how well they completed the task of communicating their intentions. They know if they are right are wrong. They know if the reader "got" what they were trying to say. They learn about things in their writing that they may not have noticed themselves. (I would also tell the reader that the part about the neighbor should NOT be deleted. The writer should keep that portion of the writing. Perhaps it could be used in a new piece or as a part of another one.)
But we can't stop there. We must help writers name what they have done that works and find a way forward to make things better - not just for this text, but for the next text too.
In the feedback exchanges below I'll color the task level feedback in blue and the process level feedback in green. Green because that's the kind of feedback that helps the writer move forward - and we need more of that. I'll color the initiating question or comment in orange, because orange you supposed to figure out what the writer wants to say, their intentions?
What part of this essay feels most alive to you? "The part of this story that felt the most alive to you was the part about the letters, and that's also the part that felt the most alive to me as a reader. I'm wondering if you wanted to write mostly about those letters?" (Wilson, 2018, 105).
The writer explains that she'd added the extra stuff because she didn't think she had enough to make a long enough essay.
The essay is yours. I have a suggestion you should "consider only if [you] think it [is] going to help you do what you [want] to do. In fact, if it doesn't feel right, [you] should tell me, as that could help me think of a different way to help (Wilson, 2000, 105).
I needed another color because Maja is doing something different here. She is teaching the writer that she is the one that makes decisions about meaning that fit her intentions as a writer. Maja is careful not to take over the decision making process for the writer.
"I think I have an idea that will help you do two things you're trying to do at the same time: make this essay all about the letters, and give you a way to say more about them. What if you open with the scene of opening the letters - everything you just told me know. That scene was so engaging when you described it to me, and then you can add flashback to what led to that moment: the anticipation of going to Holderness, knowing that OB is hanging over your head, and all your experiences and struggles with reading. Because I'll already have read that opening scene about reading those letters, I'll understand those smaller stories as a part of this larger (and most important) story about the reading for connection and comfort" (Wilson, 2018, 105).
Wilson names the things the writer can do using the terms we use as English teachers. And all of that is connected to the writer's intentions and details. (I'd like to note as a snarky aside here that Wilson didn't focus on the grammar and punctuation of the surface features of the child's writing. Lo and behold, those things got better in the second draft without Wilson even wasting a moment on them. Probably because the writer was using the punctuation and grammar as tools instead of rules to say what she wanted to say. Hmmm. I like that. Tools instead of rules.)
Feedback Sequence for Clarifying Intentions/Topic
As I read, I'm most pulled in by the paragraphs about the letters. My mind wanders a bit when I read the explanations of your time at Holderness. I'm trying to figure out if that's because you really wanted to write about the letters - and that's what you should focus on and cut some of the other stories - or if you really want to write about it all, but we need to find a way to make the other descriptions more engaging? (Wilson, 2018, 107).
Wilson helps the writer understand how what she wrote impacted Wilson as the reader. What you write is supposed to do something to the reader. That's the ultimate task. Wilson is able to give the student writer about how well they have accomplished the task of communicating through this movie of Wilson's mind as the read the paper. She also gives a process level feedback that helps the writer know how she could fix Wilson's confusion as a reader.
Two Feedback Sequences for Suggesting More Detail
I'm really most interested in those letters - that line about thirty-seven letters got me curious! You're right that it's an outrageous number. When you told me just now about opening the letters in your sleeping bag, I could actually picture that in a way that's not there on the page. If you write a scene - almost like you're making a movie and the camera zooms in so that the audience sees you, surrounded by those letters in your tent on the mountain - that might help me see the moment the way you experienced it (Wilson, 2018, 107).
Wilson again tells the writer how well she has accomplished the task with a movie of the mind. Then, she gives a process level suggestion about how the writer could go about doing that work.
You write here that "it was just an ordinary family dinner." But I don't actually know what an ordinary family dinner is like for you. Is everyone quiet? Talking over each other? Does your mom ask everyone how their day was and everyone rolls their eyes and says, "Fine"? I know what a family dinner is like for me, so all I can do is project that onto this line. Can you give a details or two that defines ordinary in your family? It could be an entire description, if it's important to setting up the unordinariness that is to come. Or, it could be just a phrase or two to give us a little glimpse of what's ordinary to you (Wilson, 2018, 107).
What's important here is that Wilson lets the writer choose if the details are a part of setting up a contrast to what is coming up next. The writer gets to decide if additional detail will help the reader understand her intentions - not the teacher. The writer understands that the details added to a paper aren't about having more detail to have more detail. Instead, the writer understands that details are used to pave a path for the reader to understand the message, ideas, and theme. Details are tools, not rules.
Feedback Sequence to Suggest Deletions
On one hand, all these examples of your struggle with reading are really interesting on their own. But when I read them one after the other, I find myself zoning out by the third example. I think that's because all the examples are illustrating exactly the same point - that you hated reading in school. Maybe the thing to do here is to pick the strongest example - or pick more than one if the second one illustrates a different point that you also want to emphasize. (Wilson, 2018, 107).
Let's go there. Five paragraph essay. Is this writer adding 3 examples because that's what the body of a paper is "supposed" to include? Because that's some kind of rule? Instead of telling kids they need three examples, let's ask them why they need examples. What function do those examples serve? What point is the writer trying to emphasize or create with those examples? Why does the reader need three? Wilson wisely lets the reader know that they are in charge of deciding what each of these examples do to convey the message. Yep: Tools instead of Rules.
Feedback Sequence on Why Something Works
I see you've got a flashback structure going here. That works really well for me, because when I read that first little opening scene where you're angry at your friend, it doesn't seem like a significant moment. Frankly, I can't figure out why you're so angry. But as soon as you start describing the backstory - all the moments that led to this opening exchange - I start reading more and more significance into it. So, by the time you get back to that opening scene at the very end, I totally get why you're so angry. The flashback structure really helps you show me how and why such a small, simple moment isn't actually so simple (Wilson, 2018, 108).
Wilson names what the writer is doing and explains how well it was used to accomplish the writer's purpose - the task was completed correctly. Then, she explains how using this writing move helps the reader understand the writer's intentions more clearly. Flashback is a process technique that writers use to purposefully move the reader. Again, tools like flashbacks aren't rules that apply to every writing task. The writer has to purposefully be involved in the decision making process for using them because they need that tool. Tools not rules.
Conclusion:
Perhaps I've honed in a little bit too much on "tools not rules" instead of focusing on feedback, which I really wanted to do. But I think it goes back to our approach to teaching writing in the first place. The writer is the one that is supposed to do the thinking and the one making all the decisions. Not the teacher. Our feedback becomes the tool that writers can use to compose. They don't need our rules and corrections. They need a thought partner that explains why the writing worked or didn't. They need a human to tell them what their writing did. And sometimes, they need a solution for how to fix it when they didn't quite get there. Perhaps that's why what we are doing when we grade papers doesn't work. We are correction and commenting on the rules and not about why we write in the first place. And those corrections do nothing to help a writer know how to fix it when their writing doesn't make muster. Kids don't need teachers to spout more rules. They need the teacher to be a tool that helps them know what to do when they didn't quite get their message across or when they are ready to move to the next level of expertise and refinement. This is one example when it is a good time for a teacher to be a "tool."
Elbow, P. (1973). Writing without teachers. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Elbow, P. & Belanoff, P. (1989). Sharing and responding. New York: NY: Random House.
Hattie, J. & Timperley, J. (2007). The power of feedback. Review of Educational Research 77(81). 81-112.
Ray, K. W. (2006). What are you thinking? Educational Leadership 64(2). 58-62.
Wilson, M. (2018). Reimagining writing assessment: From scales to stories. Portsmouth: NH: Heinemann.
Problem Number One: Our Approach
Katie Wood Ray writes in What are you Thinking?
I asked the first student I met with (who had written about four sentences) to tell me why she had decided to start her letter in the particular way she did. "What were you thinking?" I asked. As one of the observing teachers noted, the young girl looked at me as though she had just had a frontal lobotomy. All my wonderful wait time provided no answer. I finally realized it was because there wasn't any answer. I finally realized it was because there wasn't any answer. The student hadn't been asked to do any THINKING or decision-making at all. The topic had been assigned, a graphic organizer told her exactly what to include in each part, and when I sat down next to her, she was simply transferring information from the organizer to a [workshit - sorry - just can't spell it any other way] on which she was supposed to write the letter. The point is, it's difficult for student to answer questions about their thinking when the work they are doing doesn't require them to think. (2006, 59).
So that means that we need to get kids writing about things they care about and know about. We have to stop giving prompts and start using prewriting activities that help the kids mine their experiences and select their own topics. Here's my favorite prewriting activities from my writing notebook. Then we need to get them in groups with their peers. Let them read their writing to others. Let them talk with others about what their writing does to their peers as listeners and readers. Here's my favorite feedback grouping activities.
Problem Number Two: The way we give feedback.
We have to stop correcting papers. Lots of theories and research support that, but nobody really cares or has time for that. You don't want a post that spends the majority of the time telling you why I'm right. You want a post that tells you what to do instead.
Feedback has four levels. Task level feedback tells kids if they did stuff right or not. Process level feedback gives kids an idea of what they did as writers that worked well and why or what they could do instead. Self-Extending feedback does just that. It helps the writers figure out what they can do to keep growing even if the teacher isn't there to tell them what to fix. Self feedback is praise. Praise should never be used with writing or learning. It is actually harmful. (If you don't like that, we can argue about it later. I have tons of research to back it up.) (Hattie & Timperley, 2007).
So what does that look like when responding to a writer? Maja Wilson, in Reimagining Writing Assessment: From Scales to Stories gives us a place to start, even if she didn't pinpoint the levels of feedback I describe above.
The chart on pages 107 and 108 of her text describe techniques that she uses to help kids clarify their intentions/what the text is about, how to suggest adding more detail, suggesting deletions, and how to describe something that works. What she doesn't talk about is why what she suggests is going to actually help writers transfer their skills to the next writing performance. But I can tell you exactly why. Maja matches the level of feedback to what the writer needs to say - her intentions - AND how the writer might go about doing so better. None of the examples in the chart list self-extending levels of feedback. I don't know if that's because Maja purposefully didn't include that level or if she knew the writer wasn't at that stage yet. (We're supposed to match the level of feedback to just above where the student functions.) What I do know is that we are giving waaaay too much task level and praise level to writers - which is probably the main reason kids aren't growing in their ability to compose. Why not? Wilson describes Elbow's (1973) theory like this:
When we give task level feedback like "too much detail," we are "making an hypothesis or abstract theory about how writing works. However, when we we describe the test's effect on us, were's stating and empirical fact ("About two pages into the details about your eccentric neighbor I got really into picturing this crazy character with his little yapping dogs and argyle sweaters, but then I remembered that your profile is about your dad, and I did start wondering if your profile is really more about your neighbor") (Wilson, 2018).
This makes a lot of sense. I'd call this Task level feedback because it gives a movie of the teacher's mind (Elbow and Belanoff, 1989). The writer now knows how well they completed the task of communicating their intentions. They know if they are right are wrong. They know if the reader "got" what they were trying to say. They learn about things in their writing that they may not have noticed themselves. (I would also tell the reader that the part about the neighbor should NOT be deleted. The writer should keep that portion of the writing. Perhaps it could be used in a new piece or as a part of another one.)
But we can't stop there. We must help writers name what they have done that works and find a way forward to make things better - not just for this text, but for the next text too.
In the feedback exchanges below I'll color the task level feedback in blue and the process level feedback in green. Green because that's the kind of feedback that helps the writer move forward - and we need more of that. I'll color the initiating question or comment in orange, because orange you supposed to figure out what the writer wants to say, their intentions?
What part of this essay feels most alive to you? "The part of this story that felt the most alive to you was the part about the letters, and that's also the part that felt the most alive to me as a reader. I'm wondering if you wanted to write mostly about those letters?" (Wilson, 2018, 105).
The writer explains that she'd added the extra stuff because she didn't think she had enough to make a long enough essay.
The essay is yours. I have a suggestion you should "consider only if [you] think it [is] going to help you do what you [want] to do. In fact, if it doesn't feel right, [you] should tell me, as that could help me think of a different way to help (Wilson, 2000, 105).
I needed another color because Maja is doing something different here. She is teaching the writer that she is the one that makes decisions about meaning that fit her intentions as a writer. Maja is careful not to take over the decision making process for the writer.
"I think I have an idea that will help you do two things you're trying to do at the same time: make this essay all about the letters, and give you a way to say more about them. What if you open with the scene of opening the letters - everything you just told me know. That scene was so engaging when you described it to me, and then you can add flashback to what led to that moment: the anticipation of going to Holderness, knowing that OB is hanging over your head, and all your experiences and struggles with reading. Because I'll already have read that opening scene about reading those letters, I'll understand those smaller stories as a part of this larger (and most important) story about the reading for connection and comfort" (Wilson, 2018, 105).
Wilson names the things the writer can do using the terms we use as English teachers. And all of that is connected to the writer's intentions and details. (I'd like to note as a snarky aside here that Wilson didn't focus on the grammar and punctuation of the surface features of the child's writing. Lo and behold, those things got better in the second draft without Wilson even wasting a moment on them. Probably because the writer was using the punctuation and grammar as tools instead of rules to say what she wanted to say. Hmmm. I like that. Tools instead of rules.)
Feedback Sequence for Clarifying Intentions/Topic
As I read, I'm most pulled in by the paragraphs about the letters. My mind wanders a bit when I read the explanations of your time at Holderness. I'm trying to figure out if that's because you really wanted to write about the letters - and that's what you should focus on and cut some of the other stories - or if you really want to write about it all, but we need to find a way to make the other descriptions more engaging? (Wilson, 2018, 107).
Wilson helps the writer understand how what she wrote impacted Wilson as the reader. What you write is supposed to do something to the reader. That's the ultimate task. Wilson is able to give the student writer about how well they have accomplished the task of communicating through this movie of Wilson's mind as the read the paper. She also gives a process level feedback that helps the writer know how she could fix Wilson's confusion as a reader.
Two Feedback Sequences for Suggesting More Detail
I'm really most interested in those letters - that line about thirty-seven letters got me curious! You're right that it's an outrageous number. When you told me just now about opening the letters in your sleeping bag, I could actually picture that in a way that's not there on the page. If you write a scene - almost like you're making a movie and the camera zooms in so that the audience sees you, surrounded by those letters in your tent on the mountain - that might help me see the moment the way you experienced it (Wilson, 2018, 107).
Wilson again tells the writer how well she has accomplished the task with a movie of the mind. Then, she gives a process level suggestion about how the writer could go about doing that work.
You write here that "it was just an ordinary family dinner." But I don't actually know what an ordinary family dinner is like for you. Is everyone quiet? Talking over each other? Does your mom ask everyone how their day was and everyone rolls their eyes and says, "Fine"? I know what a family dinner is like for me, so all I can do is project that onto this line. Can you give a details or two that defines ordinary in your family? It could be an entire description, if it's important to setting up the unordinariness that is to come. Or, it could be just a phrase or two to give us a little glimpse of what's ordinary to you (Wilson, 2018, 107).
What's important here is that Wilson lets the writer choose if the details are a part of setting up a contrast to what is coming up next. The writer gets to decide if additional detail will help the reader understand her intentions - not the teacher. The writer understands that the details added to a paper aren't about having more detail to have more detail. Instead, the writer understands that details are used to pave a path for the reader to understand the message, ideas, and theme. Details are tools, not rules.
Feedback Sequence to Suggest Deletions
On one hand, all these examples of your struggle with reading are really interesting on their own. But when I read them one after the other, I find myself zoning out by the third example. I think that's because all the examples are illustrating exactly the same point - that you hated reading in school. Maybe the thing to do here is to pick the strongest example - or pick more than one if the second one illustrates a different point that you also want to emphasize. (Wilson, 2018, 107).
Let's go there. Five paragraph essay. Is this writer adding 3 examples because that's what the body of a paper is "supposed" to include? Because that's some kind of rule? Instead of telling kids they need three examples, let's ask them why they need examples. What function do those examples serve? What point is the writer trying to emphasize or create with those examples? Why does the reader need three? Wilson wisely lets the reader know that they are in charge of deciding what each of these examples do to convey the message. Yep: Tools instead of Rules.
Feedback Sequence on Why Something Works
I see you've got a flashback structure going here. That works really well for me, because when I read that first little opening scene where you're angry at your friend, it doesn't seem like a significant moment. Frankly, I can't figure out why you're so angry. But as soon as you start describing the backstory - all the moments that led to this opening exchange - I start reading more and more significance into it. So, by the time you get back to that opening scene at the very end, I totally get why you're so angry. The flashback structure really helps you show me how and why such a small, simple moment isn't actually so simple (Wilson, 2018, 108).
Wilson names what the writer is doing and explains how well it was used to accomplish the writer's purpose - the task was completed correctly. Then, she explains how using this writing move helps the reader understand the writer's intentions more clearly. Flashback is a process technique that writers use to purposefully move the reader. Again, tools like flashbacks aren't rules that apply to every writing task. The writer has to purposefully be involved in the decision making process for using them because they need that tool. Tools not rules.
Conclusion:
Perhaps I've honed in a little bit too much on "tools not rules" instead of focusing on feedback, which I really wanted to do. But I think it goes back to our approach to teaching writing in the first place. The writer is the one that is supposed to do the thinking and the one making all the decisions. Not the teacher. Our feedback becomes the tool that writers can use to compose. They don't need our rules and corrections. They need a thought partner that explains why the writing worked or didn't. They need a human to tell them what their writing did. And sometimes, they need a solution for how to fix it when they didn't quite get there. Perhaps that's why what we are doing when we grade papers doesn't work. We are correction and commenting on the rules and not about why we write in the first place. And those corrections do nothing to help a writer know how to fix it when their writing doesn't make muster. Kids don't need teachers to spout more rules. They need the teacher to be a tool that helps them know what to do when they didn't quite get their message across or when they are ready to move to the next level of expertise and refinement. This is one example when it is a good time for a teacher to be a "tool."
Elbow, P. (1973). Writing without teachers. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Elbow, P. & Belanoff, P. (1989). Sharing and responding. New York: NY: Random House.
Hattie, J. & Timperley, J. (2007). The power of feedback. Review of Educational Research 77(81). 81-112.
Ray, K. W. (2006). What are you thinking? Educational Leadership 64(2). 58-62.
Wilson, M. (2018). Reimagining writing assessment: From scales to stories. Portsmouth: NH: Heinemann.
Thursday, February 22, 2018
PreAP and AP: What are the "rules?"
I just got of the phone with Lauren Dwiggins, Program Manager for Academic Readiness Initiatives, College, Career, and Military Prep at TEA. She's a sharp cookie!
To teach PreAP, teachers must be certified to teach that grade level. They are not required to go to training, although it is recommended. They do not have to submit their syllabi to College Board. There is no special PEIMS code for PreAP. Districts must simply follow their policies about these courses.
PreAP teachers can attend AP training. They are eligible to receive the stipends to help pay for the costs of training. There is funding every other year.
AP teachers must be certified to teach that grade level. The state does not require them to go to training, although it is recommended. They DO have to submit their syllabi to College Board. There is no special PEIMS code for AP courses. Districts must follow their local policies about these courses. There is funding for training every other year.
But all of that is going to change.
Last July, College Board announced that they are creating an actual PreAP program. Teachers will have to go to training each summer. Teachers will receive a course syllabus, a scope and sequence with resources such as quizzes. Schools that wish to offer a PreAP program will have to pay for these materials and training. (Some districts do not want to pay the additional fees and are choosing to rename the course.)
Current Timeline:
2018-2019: Pilot Year with selected participants
2019-2020: Pilot Year with selected participants
2022-2023: PreAP course full implementation
To teach PreAP, teachers must be certified to teach that grade level. They are not required to go to training, although it is recommended. They do not have to submit their syllabi to College Board. There is no special PEIMS code for PreAP. Districts must simply follow their policies about these courses.
PreAP teachers can attend AP training. They are eligible to receive the stipends to help pay for the costs of training. There is funding every other year.
AP teachers must be certified to teach that grade level. The state does not require them to go to training, although it is recommended. They DO have to submit their syllabi to College Board. There is no special PEIMS code for AP courses. Districts must follow their local policies about these courses. There is funding for training every other year.
But all of that is going to change.
Last July, College Board announced that they are creating an actual PreAP program. Teachers will have to go to training each summer. Teachers will receive a course syllabus, a scope and sequence with resources such as quizzes. Schools that wish to offer a PreAP program will have to pay for these materials and training. (Some districts do not want to pay the additional fees and are choosing to rename the course.)
Current Timeline:
2018-2019: Pilot Year with selected participants
2019-2020: Pilot Year with selected participants
2022-2023: PreAP course full implementation
HOW we READ matters. And it should change how we WRITE
Well, I got past page 22 of Disrupting Thinking, but had to stop and reflect after reading page 29. I've been thinking about how to blend reading and writing, especially with our new TEKS on the way. We've forgotten somehow that reading is supposed to "CHANGE who we are" (p. 23). But let's not stop there. Let's remember the power of what we read and how it can help us say what we need to say.
Let's ask kids comprehension questions. But for goodness sake, let's let those be a result of the questions we ask because what we are reading causes us to respond emotionally and intellectually. Let us connect first to humanity, and relevance, and meaning.
But for goodness sake, let's not stop there. Let us look at how authors crafted their messages to have those intellectual and emotional reactions in us. Let's stop telling kids what to write and say and think and show them that reading and thinking and discussing can inspire them to create something they know and care about. Let's help them understand the variety of choices and vehicles that are available to carry their thoughts.
While I was reading, I pulled up a word document and created sets of questions from the text. I think you can use these as prompts to help your students with both reading and writing.
Important Questions for Reading and Writing
Let's ask kids comprehension questions. But for goodness sake, let's let those be a result of the questions we ask because what we are reading causes us to respond emotionally and intellectually. Let us connect first to humanity, and relevance, and meaning.
But for goodness sake, let's not stop there. Let us look at how authors crafted their messages to have those intellectual and emotional reactions in us. Let's stop telling kids what to write and say and think and show them that reading and thinking and discussing can inspire them to create something they know and care about. Let's help them understand the variety of choices and vehicles that are available to carry their thoughts.
While I was reading, I pulled up a word document and created sets of questions from the text. I think you can use these as prompts to help your students with both reading and writing.
Important Questions for Reading and Writing
Beers, K. & Probst, B. (2018). Disrupting thinking: Why how we read matters. New York, NY:
Scholastic.
Thursday, February 1, 2018
Teaching Tips for #metoo
My son, JJ, was working through a training manual for his business. He sent me a screen shot:
"When erasing the board, use vertical strokes; your hips will show the least amount of movement. Horizontal strokes make hips shake, Which students may find humorous and thus distracting."
Then he followed with a text: "Mom, do you have a lesson on this in teacher school?!"
Bwahhhaaaaaaaaahhhhaaaa! OMG! I remember a class with Dr. Bates at WT about how to write on the chalkboard. But NO ONE told me to be aware of how my actions would make my ass shake. Which is more of a problem now than I am older and heavier with sagging skin. When I stop moving, it keeps shaking...but I digress.
I don't see many chalkboards nowadays. But we have white-boards and document cameras. And now we have the #metoo movement.
So JJ, yes, we should have lessons on this in teacher school. As teachers, we must be aware of how we purposefully present ourselves and how that might be perceived by students.
"When erasing the board, use vertical strokes; your hips will show the least amount of movement. Horizontal strokes make hips shake, Which students may find humorous and thus distracting."
Then he followed with a text: "Mom, do you have a lesson on this in teacher school?!"
Bwahhhaaaaaaaaahhhhaaaa! OMG! I remember a class with Dr. Bates at WT about how to write on the chalkboard. But NO ONE told me to be aware of how my actions would make my ass shake. Which is more of a problem now than I am older and heavier with sagging skin. When I stop moving, it keeps shaking...but I digress.
I don't see many chalkboards nowadays. But we have white-boards and document cameras. And now we have the #metoo movement.
So JJ, yes, we should have lessons on this in teacher school. As teachers, we must be aware of how we purposefully present ourselves and how that might be perceived by students.
If Reading changed us...
I'm reading Kylene Beers and Robert Probst's Distrupting Thinking: Why How We Read Matters. Highlighting, thinking, reading, and planning to summarize the entire chapter for the Region 16 Book club...and I can't go past page 21.
I'm a fan of strategy teaching. And I have done every single one of these things with my kids. And I teach teachers to do the same. I know you haven't read the setup for the argument that Beers and Probst make here, but...how I am reading this is changing me. Which is kinda the point of reading.
Here's what I wrote on the side of page 21. "Are these the activities that we (the teachers) made up, thinking that this is how we make student thinking about their reading concrete enough so that we can see what's going on in their heads? Does is cause what we really want from readers?"
Beers and Probst explain: "All of those tasks are, at their core, about extracting. We would argue that in today's world, learning to extract information is not enough. It's not enough to hold a readers interest and it's not enough to solve our complex problems (2017, p. 21). The most common complaint I cannot answer: "My kids don't care. They aren't interested. They won't read." And despite powerful staff development and implementation of strategies, our problems with reading performance persist. No. This bulleted list is not enough. Nor is it something to abandon. We just aren't going far enough. We stopped too early. Making meaning is not enough.
I continued reflecting on the side of the page 21. "Sounds like a constant recitation and perseveration to check for understanding and NOT the actual teaching of reading."
I remember learning the term perseverate. Mom came home from school and described the following incident. Her room was next to the boy's restroom. Her horseshoe table sat next to that wall. As she brought groups up to her table, she kept hearing a rhythmic flushing of the toilet in the stall behind the wall. After releasing the last group, she went to see what was going on with the plumbing. In front of the toilet stood one of her favorite students. His body swung with the swirling water, his hands raised to mimic the water rushing down the drain. His eyes focused narrowly, his concentration blurring all else around him, even time and the presence of my mother. When the water reached the gurgling end, his eyes remained focused while his hand reached to pull the lever once again. Mom tenderly placed her hand on his shoulder, called his name, and welcomed him back to the hallway.
What if we have lost focus of the reasons we teach the things listed on page 21? May I call your name, place my hand on your shoulder, and welcome you back to our purpose? Do we perseverate on strategies that do not go far enough? What if we taught those things as tools for making meaning instead of ends in themselves? What if we let students choose which ones they needed to make meaning of complex text so that they could apply their understanding and take action for themselves and the world around them.
Beers and Probst are correct: "We need students who can do more than answer questions; today's complex world requires our next generation of leaders to be able to raise questions. They need to be able to hold multiple ideas in their minds. They need to be able to see a situation from multiple perspectives. they need to be flexible thinkers who recognize that there will rarely be one correct answer, but instead there will be multiple perspectives. They need to be flexible thinkers who recognize that there will rarely be one correct answer, but instead there will be multiple answers that must be weighted and evaluated. Yet, here we are in the second decade of the twenty-first century still focused on practices that teach students to extract evidence from a text. we ask students why Jess took Maybelle to Terabithia when we should be asking how Terabithia has changed their understanding of who they, the readers are.
"We think that knowing what the text says is critically important. It is a necessary part of the meaning-making experience, but it is not sufficient. Additionally, we must teach students how to read with curiosity. And they need to be willing to raise questions. We want them to ask not only, 'What does this text say?' but also, 'What does it say to me? How dos it change who I am? How might it change what I do in the world?'" (p. 21-22).
And the same holds true for writing. Of course you knew I would go there. Stop reading here if you want to keep your warm fuzzy feeling.
Choosing the reading strategies you need for understanding, change, and action reminds me of what we do when we let kids learn about various prewriting strategies and then select the type and style that fits their writing process and need at the time.
Oh yeah. But we don't do that either. We give them a graphic organizer and tell them to fill it out. Then they copy the junk from one meaningless form to another. Can I scream your name and shake your shoulders and insist you join us in the 21st century?
I'm a fan of strategy teaching. And I have done every single one of these things with my kids. And I teach teachers to do the same. I know you haven't read the setup for the argument that Beers and Probst make here, but...how I am reading this is changing me. Which is kinda the point of reading.
Here's what I wrote on the side of page 21. "Are these the activities that we (the teachers) made up, thinking that this is how we make student thinking about their reading concrete enough so that we can see what's going on in their heads? Does is cause what we really want from readers?"
Beers and Probst explain: "All of those tasks are, at their core, about extracting. We would argue that in today's world, learning to extract information is not enough. It's not enough to hold a readers interest and it's not enough to solve our complex problems (2017, p. 21). The most common complaint I cannot answer: "My kids don't care. They aren't interested. They won't read." And despite powerful staff development and implementation of strategies, our problems with reading performance persist. No. This bulleted list is not enough. Nor is it something to abandon. We just aren't going far enough. We stopped too early. Making meaning is not enough.
I continued reflecting on the side of the page 21. "Sounds like a constant recitation and perseveration to check for understanding and NOT the actual teaching of reading."
I remember learning the term perseverate. Mom came home from school and described the following incident. Her room was next to the boy's restroom. Her horseshoe table sat next to that wall. As she brought groups up to her table, she kept hearing a rhythmic flushing of the toilet in the stall behind the wall. After releasing the last group, she went to see what was going on with the plumbing. In front of the toilet stood one of her favorite students. His body swung with the swirling water, his hands raised to mimic the water rushing down the drain. His eyes focused narrowly, his concentration blurring all else around him, even time and the presence of my mother. When the water reached the gurgling end, his eyes remained focused while his hand reached to pull the lever once again. Mom tenderly placed her hand on his shoulder, called his name, and welcomed him back to the hallway.
What if we have lost focus of the reasons we teach the things listed on page 21? May I call your name, place my hand on your shoulder, and welcome you back to our purpose? Do we perseverate on strategies that do not go far enough? What if we taught those things as tools for making meaning instead of ends in themselves? What if we let students choose which ones they needed to make meaning of complex text so that they could apply their understanding and take action for themselves and the world around them.
Beers and Probst are correct: "We need students who can do more than answer questions; today's complex world requires our next generation of leaders to be able to raise questions. They need to be able to hold multiple ideas in their minds. They need to be able to see a situation from multiple perspectives. they need to be flexible thinkers who recognize that there will rarely be one correct answer, but instead there will be multiple perspectives. They need to be flexible thinkers who recognize that there will rarely be one correct answer, but instead there will be multiple answers that must be weighted and evaluated. Yet, here we are in the second decade of the twenty-first century still focused on practices that teach students to extract evidence from a text. we ask students why Jess took Maybelle to Terabithia when we should be asking how Terabithia has changed their understanding of who they, the readers are.
"We think that knowing what the text says is critically important. It is a necessary part of the meaning-making experience, but it is not sufficient. Additionally, we must teach students how to read with curiosity. And they need to be willing to raise questions. We want them to ask not only, 'What does this text say?' but also, 'What does it say to me? How dos it change who I am? How might it change what I do in the world?'" (p. 21-22).
And the same holds true for writing. Of course you knew I would go there. Stop reading here if you want to keep your warm fuzzy feeling.
Choosing the reading strategies you need for understanding, change, and action reminds me of what we do when we let kids learn about various prewriting strategies and then select the type and style that fits their writing process and need at the time.
Oh yeah. But we don't do that either. We give them a graphic organizer and tell them to fill it out. Then they copy the junk from one meaningless form to another. Can I scream your name and shake your shoulders and insist you join us in the 21st century?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)