Category Archives: Week 3

My reading process

The Visible Knowledge Project encouraged me to look into my development as a reader.

This weeks readings gave me many great ideas to use in my future teaching experiences. So my post may seem a bit scattered this week.

Randy Bass’s comment about using Word’s comment feature to “think-aloud” made me realize how helpful this feature has been for me. In my editing experience working with a group of foreign students who learned English and reading in their own country, I had to frequently use the comment feature in Word to think aloud the reasons I believed their articles and sentence structures lacked clarity. This in turn helped me discover my own reading and writing process.

I believe Arthur Laui’s method of asking students to write an autobiography of themselves to help them understand the biographies of others is very effective. Writing biographies of others were very difficult for me because of the extent of research that needed to be done and the rigid format we had to follow. Students enjoy to write about themselves to discover their strengths, and as a result can interest them into reading the biographies of others.

From this week’s readings I especially enjoyed Dr. Linkon’s article as it helped answer my questions on how to keep students engaged and interested in reading and how to help them look away from their first impressions. Novice readers and writers are constantly looking to find answers. When a student answers a question in class, he/she may gain a sense of accomplishment for that day’s class. Many times students do not ask questions because they are looking for the perfect question to ask in their readings. Open-ended questions frustrate them because they cannot find that perfect answer.

Portfolios are indeed helpful for students to lose fear of the writing process. I always enjoyed writing rough drafts in my English literature classes because I felt I could write about anything I felt about a text without being judged or graded. It gave me a sense of freedom in my thinking and writing, and it made me enjoy reading. Portfolios are in a sense similar because the student can enjoy his/her step by step process without worrying about the final end result. And where once the student felt she must find an answer to feel accomplished, she can instead receive the same feeling of accomplishment by putting all her pieces together to complete a whole.

Key findings annotation three made me think about my “reading process”. I was always told to keep a writing journal, and to write whatever would come to my mind. I wish I had done the same for my writing journal. In my reading process whenever I came upon a word or content that I did not understand, I would skip that section hoping to understand by listening to the class discussion. A reading journal could have really helped in this matter. As students write about their difficulties to understanding a text, they help themselves improve.

The inquiry project annotation helped me realize one thing my teachers did to help me identify good questions to ask about a text were the compare and contrast literary text assignments. Those assignments helped me put both stories in perspective and narrow my scattered thoughts about each story.

Under defining critical reading practices the article mentioned, “good critical reading requires rereading”. Which I completely agree, because it is similar to rewriting. But my question is what about those students who don’t see a point to reading again. They go with the assumption that no matter how many times they read, they will get the same results. How can we encourage those students to reread?

Randy’s key findings annotation 3 helped me understand why many students including me had a difficult time concluding their papers. I was able to write pages on my interpretation to Hills like White Elephants, but when it came to summing the paper up, I would just freeze. My teachers would remind me that the conclusion is just a restatement of the thesis and introduction, except with a slightly different twist. I could not grasp that different twist. So instead I would write a conclusion without feeling it was my own creativity. Randy’s comment on students “not closing down on interpretation” because of a lack of method, can help many students put this matter into perspective.

Simulated Bomb Defusal

Linkon points to the tendency of students to be more open-minded when their research is written informally, and focuses her class around the process of research rather the gathering of it. It seems like a fascinating approach that reflects upon a problem I’ve always had with the research process.

In many research courses, the student develops an initial thesis statement or contention. And while these statements are not meant to be static or unchanging—indeed, the professor often insists upon the opposite—the process still encourages narrow research and close-mindedness. The student is loath to cut what doesn’t belong, or to go in directions they didn’t initially expect to tread.

This is less a loyalty to their own words than it is to the meaning they were initially trying to convey with them. It’s much like we saw in the first week of class: a little girl, rather than replacing her erroneous view of the universe with a correct one, instead tried to reconcile the two. Beginning a research course with a formal statement of intent inevitably assures that you’ll have trouble leaving that contention behind should you need to do so. You’re loyal to what you’ve basically stated as fact.

Linkon’s divests the process of these linear blinders by teaching only the process and eliminating the final paper. So if writing is merely thinking, written down and refined, then this course is more for developing inquisitiveness rather than discovering answers.

But perhaps the problem is not entirely that the research paper is too linear a format for scholarly inquiry, but that the process of beginning it is flawed. Supporting one’s initial contentions closes a door on multiple interpretations and becomes like solving a mathematical proof. It leads to, as Linkon notes, the perfunctory search for a few quotes to fulfill the requirement of “research,” or even the fatal procrastination of doing the papers in the last few days or hours before they’re due.

We should keep in mind, however, that completing a paper in this atmosphere can be an inherently exhilarating exercise. The work is not being ignored in such a situation; far from it, it hangs over the student’s head throughout the semester like a guillotine’s blade. Every day, the student frets over the growing 800-pound gorilla in the room, but is still unable to make any real progress because of their own literal beginning. The only way they ever manage to produce good work in this situation is by desperation. Managing to finish the paper in these last moments becomes the literary equivalent of defusing a bomb two seconds before it detonates.

The sense of release, of having survived with your head only moments from the chopping block, can lead to inherently melodramatic prose which—cultivated properly—can be whittled down to meaning which is often divested of the need to write within the lines set up for oneself. So, perhaps, instead of removing the final paper from the equation entirely, we should insist upon its completion before anything else is even attempted. Give them a mere week’s time to work with; it needn’t be research paper length, but half that would be sufficient.

The novelty of having them begin with the ending may inspire confusion, but that would lead to greater desperation as well. And ff necessity is the mother of invention, and desperation is the father of inspiration, why not put the student into a situation where those former states of mind lead to the latter?

-Matt Boyle

Coffee and Conversation

Coffee and Conversation: I wonder how many online profiles have listed this simple pastime as one of their interests, as a means of describing themselves or peaking the interest of others. Generally, people love to talk about what they think and how they view the world. We are excited by ideas and discussing them. And often our conversations revolve around things we’ve read—whether books or magazines… or blogs. So why isn’t conversation used more in the classroom? And why, when teachers try to get kids talking, is it so hard to get the conversation rolling?

As a reader, student, and a rather introverted human being, my personal answer to why it’s so hard to get the conversation going in the classroom is, naturally, multifaceted:

  • we’re scared of being wrong;
  • we don’t trust our instincts;
  • sometimes, we ARE, as Naomi discusses, just flat out (embarrassingly) wrong;
  • we don’t have a clue where to start;
  • we feel like we’re at a middle school dance and don’t want to be the first one on the floor;
  • by the time we walk into the classroom, we’ve forgotten all the brilliant thoughts we had while we were reading (or as we head off to class our brilliance of the night before seems rather obvious in the light of day); and
  • so much of school is sadly, as Ginny so eloquently put it, about fetching answers to very specific questions.

Both the Difficulty Paper and the Inquiry Project address many of these issues.

As Sherry Linkon points out, “Too often students’ inquiries are guided by neither their own interests nor any genuine questions.” A.k.a., the difference that students perceive between considering a book over coffee and reading one for school. At school, they often have to follow somebody else’s interests from somebody else’s starting point. Both the Difficulty Paper and the Inquiry Project, however, start with the students—where they are and where they want to go. Like a participant in a conversation, they have some control in steering where the inquiry goes. Not only is this more likely to help them develop awareness of their own thinking process, it is more likely to truly engage them in reading literature and searching for meaning (one that actually means something to them).

I appreciate that the inquiry project asks students to reflect on how they approach the text, to think about the process of reading critically. I think that the root of my discomfort and insecurity with “critical thinking” is that it wasn’t something that was overtly taught in the classroom. Teachers told us that they wanted us to think critically, and then threw us into the texts and asked us to make conclusions without helping us identify when we were succeeding in thinking critically.

Both Randy Bass and Sherry Linkon emphasize that success comes with slowing down and putting off making conclusions. And as the section “Open-ended Synthesis” states, “the nature of the other elements of critical reading should make it impossible for a good critical reader to claim any definitive meaning or conclusion.” When every class paper seems built around deciding on your thesis, and then developing your supporting arguments, this approach is positively novel. It becomes more like the type of conversation we might have over coffee, where people hash out their opinions, bounce them off each other; where they can be wrong and not feel like their grade is going to suffer; where the point is simply to explore, to think. And just as in (polite?) conversation, there is no definitive, right answer that everyone has to agree with, just lots of steps in an ongoing conversation.

Exploring

The majority of educational research I have studied thus far has been about the learner–Gardner’s Multiple Intelligences, Brain-based Learning, Vygotsky’s Social Cognition. And, as in the Shulman article, I do believe that it is important to respect the learner and what s/he brings to the learning experience, but what I found so fascinating about the Visible Knowledge Project is that it is research focused on teaching, not learning–which is different –and it is research in practice.

Although I appreciate the PDF of the site documents for printing purposes, I am glad that they were not available when I reviewed the site. It would have been too tempting to just read the PDF to make sure I didn’t miss anything. And, I was skeptical of the site so motivation for perusing the site would have been low. I couldn’t see how a “poster” could provide any significant research findings. But as I scanned through the pages, I began to see how the electronic format of the posters allowed the researchers to expand anywhere and to include infinite amounts of information–information that was manageable because it was initially presented in a simple form, but when I wanted to explore a topic more in depth, detailed explanations, examples and related resources were instantly accessible.  I would have missed a lot if I had just read the PDF.

This approach of allowing the learner to explore things more in depth and presenting information in manageable pieces is also what I liked best about the assignments that Bass and Linken gave to their students. They both pieced out the reading and analysis process for their learners so it would not be overwhelming. They encouraged their students to pursue their own interests and curiosity. Linken broke down the process for researching a paper into manageable chunks. This break down of information and process seems much more manageable than just having a final paper due. It also allowed students to see their own progress rather than simply focusing on the end result. Bass’s three role system created a process where students could work together to find a solution so that each student was covering more information with less work by learning and building on the reasoning of his peers. This reminds me of the game where one person starts a story by providing a phrase or sentence and then the next person adds a small piece, and so on, until, what is generally a very creative and interesting story has been told. This process seems like it would provide a collective knowledge of what all the students bring to the table and could provide infinite avenues for discussion depending on the specific interests of the participants.

Not being a teacher in a classroom, so far, educational research has been very theoretical to me. The information was presented in articles, lectures and presentations, and I dutifully applied the “schoolish behavior” I had learned and memorized it. The VKP site provides a dynamic environment that allows me to the opportunity not only to learn about a theory but to know what it looks like in practice and to see real life results. It also presents the information to me in a way that is not overwhelming and that encourages me to explore my areas of interest in the projects.

The Inquiry Project and Making the Grade

Grading is the bane of my existence as a middle school English teacher. I have realized that my colleagues in the English department and I seem to spend a great deal of our time, on the job and at home, grading essays and various other written assignments. After six years of teaching, I still have not found a way to run an essay through the Scantron machine, though I have become a rather efficient grader through skillful speed reading and judicious use of my editing pen .

The Inquiry Project attracted my attention with its focus on content rather than conquest. Regardless of all the time and tears I spend grading my students’ essays, they flip through my comments and pen marks looking for a single letter–A, B, C, D, or F. The eleven tasks required to pass the Inquiry Project help focus a student’s attention on the benefit of a final course project, rather than the completion of yet another mind-numbing research paper. Though the breadth of the Inquiry Project does not seem fitting for the middle school student, I believe a well-planned Literature Circle could mirror the reading and writing skills gained in the college-level Inquiry Project.

My eighth-graders and I have just complete our first adventure through the land of Literature Circles. Like the Inquiry Project, all novels chosen for my Literature Circle project contained the analogous theme of race and culture; and like the Inquiry Project, my primary focus of Literature Circles was to refine my students’ questioning processes. I wanted my students to question how each novel portrayed its characters dealing with issue regarding race and culture in America. My students were paired with classmates who chose to read the same novel, and this became their Literature Circle group. Though they had assignments to complete as a group, they were also given time to discuss points of interest and confusion they discovered throughout the reading process. Instead of making each group complete a final project, all students participated in a Socratic Seminar concerning race and culture. A Socratic Seminar combines oral language skills and close-text reading, as well as personal opinion reflections (something all students, regardless of age, enjoy relating). When I informed my students that this “oral test” counted as their final Literature Circle exam, I was bombarded with question about how I would assess their grade. Because of the academic focus on making the grade, my students could not fathom the idea that their intelligent and thoughtful oral responses were of value “grade-wise.”

The Inquiry Project provides a cultural shift in assessment that benefits all levels of education, from pre-elementary to post-graduate. When students focus on the quality of their thoughts, rather than the quantitative value of their questioning, real learning takes place. After receiving their Socratic Seminar “grades,” my students are clamoring for more Literature Circle-style assessments.

Jennifer Carter-Wharton

Education posters

 In reading the posts so far, it seems that most of the class liked the learning posters and ideas.  I liked all of it.  As an inexperienced teacher, I am filled with fear and trepidation at the prospect of developing my first year’s curriculum.  The ideas in the posters and the difficulty book have relieved some of the stress.

I especially liked the idea of blogging, much like we are doing here.  I think it provides that freedom that one of the students expressed with regard to the inquiry project.  The freedom to dig into what you like, to ask, to be frustrated, all without penalty.  I realize that is how the joy of learning must be fostered. 

The inquiry paper was especially interesting.  It follows the same lines as the difficulty papers, but the assignment seems very detailed, and as a semester project, I guess it must be.  I like the structure and phasing in of the project over time.  When Rikki had difficulty with her thesis, the project itself helped her to continue her work in the same vein, because the time restrictions and have-to-ness of the traditional term paper are eliminated.

I think someone else commented on how these projects tamp down schoolish behavior.  In fact, I think that these projects may encourage a new type of schoolish behavior, learning and liking it. 

With regard to genre and connectivity, I love the idea of bringing up similarities between texts of the time and then exploring them.  I think that would bring the idea of a genre or an era into bright focus for the students.  I know that sometimes when that bell goes off in a classroom and you have grasped an idea clearly, it encourages further study.  Teaching connectivity will help students to apply this sort of thought in so many aspects of their education, as is the goal.

I did not understand nuanced readings and will ask in class unless someone can enlighten me here. 

On the first poster they discussed the idea of having students critique other students’ writing.  What a great way to get the writing done and also to create interest in reading.  The story of a friend, current and interesting, has got to be more interesting, at least initially, than any of those in the anthology. I think it would open discussion of critique and it would also encourage the students to step out a little bit and take chances.

One of the most compelling things in the posters and the difficulty paper book was the idea that students had developed their skills on their own with these tools. It makes learning fun, because it is self-directed.  It makes learning stick, because it is your own process.  I think it would develop a sense of compassion for others as well as each student’s experiences are discussed in class. 

Laurel Chinn

And the Flow Chart Continues…..

I noted in last week’s blog that the required readings reminded me of flow charts.  This week’s articles give me the same feeling.  Although, I have yet to teach my own class, I attempt to apply what I’m reading/learning to my book club girls (7 sixth graders).  It’s a tight time squeeze and really I’m only introducing these concepts.  But I agree that student reading habits can change via instruction and student effort.  The process paper that Prof. Linkon described would be beneficial in strving for this change.  Unfortunately, this isn’t possible in this casual setting. 

What I believe is possible though is modifying Prof. O’Connor’s stratedgy. (She has the students design web pages).  Using poster board, the girls can  draw a “web” to link the issues. Hopefully then, they can (literally) see how the layers in the context and how the issues intersect.The book we’re reading is The Dollhouse Murders.  It is multilayered-sister with a disability, family secret regarding the murders of the grandparents, guilt over present and past tense relationships and adolescence.  Not all the girls are “getting it.” It doesn’t help that the most vocal of the group is saying this the most.

Another girl claims to have finish the book, yet couldn’t recall details from the first four chapters.  In general, it seems they are reading, but for what purpose, besides solving who dunnit, I’m not sure except to say they finshed the book.  So I reread aloud the parts that I wanted to explore in order to set the  foundation of the story.  I also suggested that they either just read what’s assigned weekly or reread the book. So I do support recursivity.  I also use it in my own reading.

(I need to digress here because of the guy next to me. I’m in the computer lab on campus and am amazed by how many students freely use their cellphones even with postings banning cellphone use decorating the room.  Not only can I hear him, but also the other person’s voice on the line! I suppose I’m showing my age here).

Okay. Another stratedgy I really like, in part because I’m an avid photographer, is Prof. Jaffe’s project.  It reminds me of I Wanna Take Me a Picture, where teaching photography to underpriviledged children worldwide provides them an opportunity to more richly explore their family/ world/culture. Then they write stories that contain details and feelings that do reflect a level of self-awareness.  And since the skills of writing and reading intertwine, this stratedgy can laterally tranfer into their reading skills.

I look forward to using these strategies more fully once I’m teaching.  In the meantime, I’ve begun to examine myself as a reader. I need to expand from being a literal reader to making more connections between ideas within the context and with other texts.  I also need to take the time to make those nuances and annotations.  It’s fascinating to read about these projects and methods. I only wish that I had learned them sooner.        Susan  

Where Does the Time Come From?

Between the two different projects that we read about, I would have to say that Sherry Linkon’s was the most interesting to me. I also probably had the most questions about that one and how I could apply it to 9th graders as opposed to her college students. There are some ideas that she gives that are obvious in how they could connect. For example, I really like the idea of having students annotate, so I’m trying to think of how I can have them do so even though the books don’t belong to them and I can’t provide Post-It notes for everyone. After our discussion last week in class, it got me thinking a lot about myself as a reader. I remembered Prof. Sample saying that if you just highlight things, you’ll forget why. So I practiced annotating this article this week, and wow! What a difference I had in ideas. I could feel myself thinking more about what I was reading and interacting more with the text than I normally might – even if I’m just highlighting. I might be hooked on annotations now. I want that for my students. I feel like it’s something that would be easy to incorporate with ninth graders.

Another idea I really liked was that of recursivity. I think that by having students look at the text more than once, we’re forcing them, in a way, to become experts with it. It’s true that we might read something once and understand it enough to be able to discuss and form opinions and ideas, but the more we read any text, the more we will understand it. The problem is getting students interested enough to want to motivate themselves to read beyond just that first reading. I admit that this is something I struggle with as well. I know it will be easier the second time, but there are usually time constraints, etc. that prohibit me from being able to have just a second reading, much less a third and so on.

This leads me to my first questioning of the reading. In a collegiate atmosphere, I can see how it would be really beneficial to a student to have the entire 14 weeks to read and re-read a select few texts and think about them in order to develop questions and learn how to successfully seek answers. However, in a high school atmosphere, I’m a bit skeptical, mostly because of the time constraints. As high school teachers, we don’t have much choice in the curriculum that we teach. I have a guide that tells me what I need to complete each marking period, and it doesn’t leave me with a lot of time to allot for re-reading of texts. I’m torn between wanting them to become experts and knowing that I have only so much time in which to do it. Not only that, but if the kids aren’t prepared for their benchmarks and SOLs and administration finds out that I’ve been having them re-read material instead of teaching them new, they will certainly be coming to have a talk with me.

The second aspect of Linkon’s project that I found myself questioning was the lack of paper. I think that the portfolio idea is wonderful and I like how she spent more time going through the steps and letting the students work on smaller pieces at a time so that it didn’t seem overwhelming. But I have to wonder if there was not still some way to incorporate a paper into that assignment. Sure the students did the research and they learned how to think effectively, but the lack of formal assessment makes it almost seem like busy work – just with more learning involved. She says, herself, though, at the end, that her next step is to figure out how to incorporate some kind of formal assessment in there. I think how I would incorporate it is similar to the way I saw it done when I was in high school (is that allowed?). We had a graduation project to complete and we spent chunks of time throughout the year getting ready for it and writing small pieces of it at a time. While I wouldn’t have the whole year, I think that, if spaced out properly over the course of the marking period, it would be beneficial to the students to not feel like everything is being piled on them at once.

Evaluating the Merit of Students’ Connections

  The enthusiasm the students expressed regarding Sherry Linkon’s Inquiry Project was encouraging because getting students to slow down, reread, and reconsider first impressions are very difficult goals to achieve. Consider the words of one student, Mark: “I liked how I was able to discover MY answers instead of the answers that I thought Dr. Linkon wanted me to find.”  The question I have regarding the project is what is done when “MY answers” are not supported by the text.  I do not see allowance in the course for evaluating the merit of connections that they students make, just that they make them.  However, when student, Rikki, wrote about reading No-No Boy, she said “there were some parts that were confusing the first time I read them, and I had to go back to make sure I was reading it right.”  Rikki understands that there is a right way to read it, which means there must be wrong ways to read it that should be avoided.  Rikki speculates on the connection between style and subject matter and makes a plausible and interesting conclusion, but ultimately, her ideas cannot be proven; not at all sure of her connections, she expresses them in terms of what “seems to” emphasize and what “could be” an extension.  Randy Bass also offers examples of student work on his poster, and we see a similar lack of certainty by his advanced student: “It seems there is a spiritual connection,” he writes. I do not understand the value of forcing students to make such speculations for speculations’ sake.Linkon makes a link between literature and writing when she says that the value of critical thinking and inquiry is to formulate new ideas to be shared.  “No researcher completes the entire study of any text,” she writes.  “Rather, we build on . . . the work done by others,” so “you need to be able to communicate clearly what you’re thinking, and if you can make your work engaging and enjoyable to read, all the better.”  But in addition to being engaging and clear, it should be logical and true.  Due to the interactions of text, reader, and culture, Linkon identifies critical reading, in part, with shifting and contradictory meaning.  I disagree that the meaning of a text changes, and contradictory meaning is non-sensical.  Although my inquiry into the historical and cultural contexts may cause a shift in my understanding of the text, it does not change the meaning of it.  Nor does it make any sense that a text should contradict itself.  Scholarly inquiry should lead me to resolve apparent contradictions.   Naomi

Circular Approaches

There was much that I enjoyed about the readings this week; however, I think the most impressive quality to me was the circular nature of the work. As in the action research process the work presented in these posters is not finished…it has been presented as findings and is the beginning of the next cycle. I feel that too often in educational research what happens is that the research is done, the findings are published, and then the public accepts published findings as the truth; so if you as an educator do not achieve success through the implementation of said findings, well you must have done something wrong.

As has been mentioned earlier, Randy Bass’s work even included that reflective piece for the oral mid-term and final. Much in the same way as the readers were scattered and non-leaner, so are our thought processes (again as has already been mentioned), so why shouldn’t we allow our students the opportunity to explain their thinking and their answers. Besides as we all know if we give students questions to answer about a reading they will just hunt and scan until they find what they think is the right answer and then write down what they find. Or worse, they will have a friend that will allow them to just copy down their answers. More often than not, they both get the wrong answer in this situation.

Having had a great deal of exposure to below grade level and struggling readers in my first five years of teaching, I have been exposed to a great deal of professional development and course work on reading. Therefore, I have employed many techniques in which I expect students to interact with the text. In honesty, nothing makes them more angry – at first – then when I don’t just give them questions to answer. One of the strategies that I have found to be most effective is a double-entry journal. Through the use of double-entry journals, we will read a text together identifying and commenting on the basic elements of the story (setting, character, plot, themes, etc.) This is done through modeling with me keeping a journal on the overhead for them to copy down. As the year progresses, I ask for them to include more and more in their double-entry journals and provide them with less and less support. Although they do a great deal  of belly aching and whining everytime I respond that ‘yes’ they will be keeping a reading journal, without fail it is the one thing the majority of them will write about at the end of the year as being the most helpful thing they have done in class throughout the year.

Although I provide a great deal of support for my Gen. Ed. classes through reading journals, I do not give as much support to my AP students. This is one of the areas that I struggle with because even though many of the students are at a higher level, not all of them have the same skills entering the class. The sad truth of the matter is that many of them are only taking AP classes to get out of the Gen. Ed. classes because there is no middle ground opportunity. So long story short – I know that there is more that I could be doing for my Gen. Ed. populations, but I feel like I’m making headway there; however, it is the lower end of the spectrum students in my AP classes that I feel are slipping threw the cracks.

 Sorry, I feel as if I’ve droned on about what I do in this post rather than about the readings. One thing that I have done with my AP students as an extra credit assignment was the creation of a MySpace network for the characters of the Iliad and what the VKP readings gave me the idea of is kind of an expansion on this idea to a research project that we going to be doing as part of an individual book project.

 Okay, okay, enough…talk about non-linear posting. I’m really just stream of consciousness blogging here so I’ll come back when I have something relevant to write.

Breaking Schoolish Behavior

For many students, reading has become a task to complete in preparation for class and or the first step in finding an argument for an assigned paper, not a process of exploration, reflection, or contextualization. (Linkon, “Defining Critical Reading”)

Having little knowledge of the scholarship of teaching literature, I was fascinated by the Visible Knowledge Project (VKP). I knew such scholarship existed, I just had never read the “behind the scenes” perspectives of educators tackling the question of how to help students become more critical and active readers.

As I explored the VKP website and read educator’s posters, one formative experience in my personal literary narrative came to mind. Flashback to the summer of 1993: the summer before sixth grade. I was determined to win my local library’s “Reading Stars” contest. To be more specific, I was determined to beat one “Jane Doe,” a friend with whom I had a particularly competitive relationship. With a cash prize at stake, both of us geared up by loading our bookbags with the newest and most interesting books our library had to offer.

To ensure that we were in fact reading the books we checked out, we had to fill out summary cards in which we identified the genre, the main characters, the basic plot, and central themes of every work we read. Now, I had always loved reading. As a child, I was often scolded for hiding a book in my lap at the dinner table. Perhaps because the majority of my reading occurred outside of school, my main “goal” in reading was “fun.” (Though I doubt I would have looked at reading in terms of goals at all). Not long into this contest, however, I was reading only with the dreaded summary card in mind. In my family, we referred to it as SCOD—the summary card of doom.

I did not win the contest. If you must know, “Jane” won by piling her library bag with children’s books. (Seriously, how hard is it to fill out a SCOD for The Hungry Caterpillar? Right?). Our friendship eventually recovered, but at the time, I was very disappointed. I was angry with her for turning to children’s books, but I was also I was annoyed at myself for not discovering–and taking advantage of–her strategy and making that sweet cash prize mine-all-mine.

Not long into my middle school experience, I learned that the dreaded SCOD that had tormented me all summer long was actually a blessing in disguise. I began to read everything with a SCOD in mind. I had always been a good student, but suddenly, I was pulling A’s left and right. My parents were pleased. My teachers were pleased. I was even asked to create a list of reading strategies to share with my classmates.

But despite all this attention, something was off. I no longer enjoyed reading—at least not in the way I used to. Instead of seeing reading as exploratory, I started reading for a distinct purpose: information. I became a master-skimmer and scanner. I attacked each text with the ruthless efficiency. Further, I began shunning more challenging and non-traditional texts because it was harder to find “the answers.”

This strategy pretty much worked for me through 12th grade. Sure, my readings became a little more nuanced. I identified more complex ideas and offered more interpretations. Still, for the most part, Linkon’s quote (included at the top of my post) was the modus operandi—and not just for me, but for most high-achieving students at my high school. Such “schoolish behavior” is what got us into top colleges. Once there, most of us found that in many cases, these strategies continued to work. In higher-level courses, however, the jig was up. “Where are you in this paper?” asked one especially perceptive professor.

I’ve already written entirely too much, but I want to note that Linkon’s Inquiry Project struck me as a well-planned, step-by-step method of breaking students’ schoolish behaviors. It’s ironic that it might take such structure to make students more comfortable with open-endedness; however, the structured approach is key. You can’t just say “suspend your analysis and read with an open mind” to students that have been trained to read like they’re on a “seek-and-destroy” mission. As both Linkon and Bass point out, students of all levels are uncomfortable with uncertainty. There is perhaps nothing so frustrating as a teacher who does not define their expectations.

The inquiry project defines expectations and identifies intermediate steps, but it also alleviates the pressure of finding “the answer” or producing a research paper. The structure of the assignment provides clear guidelines, while allowing room for student-directed research and analysis. Linkon’s discussion of Rikki’s analysis of No-No Boy provided a great example of this process. (I don’t know how many times I abandoned a particular line of research because I couldn’t find enough background articles).

Whew. Sorry for the marathon post…I guess this is kind of a combined literacy narrative/weekly response. I look forward to discussing the VKP in class this Wednesday.

Sara

Laura’s Take on Bass’s Oral Assessment Idea

I become overwhelmed and disheartened sometimes by the large volume of writing my students generate and that I must read. I’m always on the lookout for strategies to help reduce the time I spend with student papers – that is, without shortchanging students.

So far, I’ve learned a few strategies. For example, last term in English 610 (The Teaching of Composition), Professor Gallehr recommended that we become speed readers. He told us that reading quickly is a great skill for a writing teacher and one we’re all capable of developing. Professor Gallehr also advocated that we limit the comments we put on papers. I’ve tried both of these suggestions and while they do save time, I feel like I’m rushing through student papers and may miss something important.

In my study of the Visible Knowledge Project this week, I hit on another idea. Randy Bass says he shifted from written to oral midterm and final assessments. That would certainly cut down on the paperwork. But three concerns immediately spring to mind.

First, it’s not clear from the poster whether Bass teaches his students how to have worthwhile “conversations” about literature in preparation for the oral assessments. I’m guessing that class discussions help But I wonder how else Bass teaches the conversation skills he assesses. Is the midterm the first opportunity his students have to receive one-on-one feedback on their conversation skills? I’m not sure.

Second, it occurs to me that students who are already good conversationalists and who are at ease speaking will have a huge advantage on this kind of assessment. One might argue that good writers and test takers have a leg up on written exams and that this is no different. Still, I can imagine that there would be students who would clam up in an oral exam; stage fright might do them in.

Third, how much time does Bass spend on the oral assessments? He says he videotapes the conversations. He also says he dubs and compresses the tape onto a CD and puts his comments on as a Word file. Then, he has students write a brief response looking closely at two places in the oral midterm and reflecting how they might have answered questions better or differently. When you add it up, it seems likely that Bass is spending even more time than he would grading a written exam. But it’s time spent differently. I suppose that counts for something.

Despite these concerns, there’s one thing I like a lot about Bass’s oral assessment idea; his students get to have a one-on-one conversation with him. I read a study once that suggested that freshmen in a community college who spent as little as 10 minutes with a single instructor were more likely to remain enrolled than those who didn’t have that chance. We must not forget how much it means to our students when we talk with them meaningfully and individually, especially when we do so outside of the classroom. I love student conferences for this reason. And so, too, I like Bass’s idea because he’s hit on a way to ensure that every student gets that all-so-important one-on-one time. – Laura Hills

Non-linear ideas, VNP, and me

This week’s readings were interesting to me in several different ways. The readings themselves resemble assignments that I have given in composition classes; they reflect the current method of research; they posed their own difficulties; and there was a discussion of a student’s work that could have been describing me.

To begin with the second point, much research, especially by undergraduates, and I assume high school students, is done beginning with a “google” search. Many of the sources that are found are hyperlinked documents that resemble the ones we were assigned to read for this class. They do not translate well to the more traditional extant, printed page. To print these documents for class required printing the main page, following the links and also printing those pages. Then there had to be a way to identify which “more” link went where. I resorted to the magazine/newspaper designation of “continued from…” This worked to print the document and allow me to navigate from main to secondary pages. However, it was not easy. The computer does not require that I turn pages, marking the one that I wish to return to. It simply, through a series of hyperlinks, allows me to choose pages and easily return to my starting point. This may seem obvious, off topic, and irrelevant. Yet there is a connection. This type of document illustrates both how students, and perhaps experts, read and possibly even how they think. It is a very non-linear way of approaching a topic, and it little resembles what we expect our students to produce in papers. Yet it does in some ways resemble the readings we assign.

This may be a more natural way of moving through information than we realize. Perhaps the advent of computers and hyperlinked documents has finally allowed us to have a more natural approach to reading and learning. Think about all those mind mapping diagrams we have drawn over the years. They rarely, if ever, proceed linearly. Instead they jump around with ideas linked in seemingly random fashion, yet all are connected in some way. So what does this have to do with my comments and reactions to the readings? Turning to my first observation, in recent semesters I have assigned my students to create a hyperlinked document. They first write a “traditional” essay following all the standard rules of chunking, support, and conclusions. They then turn this essay into a hyperlink document by determining what is important enough to remain on the main page, what is secondary and linked to the main page, what is of tertiary importance and is linked to the secondary pages. The students are initially hesitant about this assignment. They have become so accustomed to writing traditional essays that they cannot think outside of that parameter to actually rank the importance of the information they are presenting. Once they move beyond this hesitation, they seem to really enjoy the exercise. At some point, I would like to reverse this assignment, giving the hypertext first and then moving to the linear document. What do you think?

Finally, I actually saw myself in one of these documents. Sherry Linkon tells of a student, Rikki, who began her work by focusing on the writing style of Okada. At first not finding the direct answer she was seeking in her research, she never-the-less moved to a fuller understanding of the effect of Okada’s style on his meaning. I experienced a similar occurrence last semester. I was required to write and submit a proposal for my projected final paper. At that point I was sill struggling to build a comprehensive understanding of all the readings we had done in class. Needless to say, the proposal received less than stellar comments from the instructor, who shall remain nameless. At this point, with a vague feeling of desperation, I began the research for the paper. It was through this on-going, long term reading that the entire class began to gel for me. As the deadline for the paper rapidly approached (as they always do), I actually resented writing it because I was learning so much through the new readings that I was doing. I didn’t want to stop reading, and learning, to write the paper. It was through the additional readings that my vague proposal solidified into a more concrete topic that allowed me to write and submit a paper that was much better, and on an entirely different topic, than the dismal proposal. Until reading about Rikki’s experience with Okada, I had not realized what I had done; it was just the “natural” next step to “read more about it.”

Though I have turned to research for a deeper, fuller understanding of what I am studying, I have never really thought about explaining it to my students in this way. It has always been “support” for their claims. It seems that I have been cheating my students out of a necessary step to understanding and integrating what they are reading. I will try to do better.

When I first started teaching…

When I first started teaching the General level, I had no training in Special Education. The academic office created only two sections for 9th grade General English, so I had close to 20 students in each group. Now I know that for many teachers a class of 20 is a dream come true. But when roughly half of the students in both sections read on a third grade level, about a quarter of them had come from self contained classrooms, and nearly every student had been diagnosed with ADHD or Executive Functioning Disorder, the room was less like a class and more like a circus. And did I mention that 35 out of the 40 qualified for preferential seating? What was I supposed to do? Put the desks in a single line, wear roller skates, and glide back and forth for forty five minutes?

I was lost. How I ever managed to keep control of the class, let alone teach them anything, is beyond me. The curriculum was supposed to be the same as that of the College Prep track but at a slower pace.

We were supposed to read The Odyssey. We watched the movie instead.

At the same time I was trying to teach the Generals, I had also been assigned the 9th grade Honors English students. They were brilliant – a joy to teach. Discussions were animated and their textual interpretations inspiring. They were strong readers and fabulous writers. Unlike the General students with whom I eagerly watched the clock, my honors students and I frequently found ourselves cut off mid-sentence by the bell.

Now that I have been out of the classroom for some time and am farther removed from the experience of teaching the unteachables, I am heartsick to realize how much I shortchanged that group of wonderful, underestimated kids. Reading the posters for the Visible Knowledge Project brought this home. I used so many of those strategies with my Honors students – they annotated their texts, held discussions on blogs and discussion boards, kept reading journals wherein they tracked their development as readers, and learned to ask the deeper questions rather than simply seek the quick, easy answers. I made sure that, like the illustration given on the “Active and Critical Reading” poster, the students approached the texts using their original repertoire of skills, used new skills I modeled for them, thought about their own reading processes and connected their critical observations to other works and contexts, transferring their knowledge to new and different situations.

What did my General students do? For the most part, they played fetch. I threw out a question, they found the answer, and I patted them on the head for paying attention. Then we moved on.

All of this is not to say I didn’t try. I asked them to keep an Active Reading Journal with sections for predictions, questions, observations, clarifications and evaluations of the text. My intention was to help them more fully engage with the text by making predictions, asking questions, and recording their observations, then go back and review their reading to clarify any misunderstanding and make a final evaluation of a literary device or other mechanism. It didn’t work very well, as the students never got beyond a one or two sentence entry. I never tried anything else with them because I assumed out of ignorance that they couldn’t handle anything deeper.

After reading Sherry Linkon’s and Randy Bass’s posters, I know I left those kids behind. Linkon’s inquiry project would have immensely benefited that group. The cyclical quest for information would have challenged them to ask good questions, gather strong information and revisit their findings over a long period of time. It would have been just what they needed – a focused, bite-sized plan of attack, an opportunity for intellectual growth, and a manageable, slower pace. For students who by virtue of their disabilities can see only the parts of the whole or the whole and not its parts, an exercise of this type would have helped them fuse the two together and advance not only in their reading comprehension but in their textual analysis as well. Instead of allowing them this freedom and exposing them to a true and valid academic task, I assigned four separate five paragraph essays. In essence, I told them, “Memorize the format, kids, then fetch the answers to the question and plug them into place.” To use Linkon’s phrase, I had no balance between structure and open-endedness.

The weeks’ readings made me wish to be back in the classroom with my former General students. I would ask them to do Think Alouds so that they could see their ability to “unpack” (as Bass calls it) a text. I would build my own “Schematic of Student Reading,” using Bass’s Learning Activity Breakdown as an example (how useful it would have been to truly label and attack my students’ obstacles, rather than fruitlessly complain about them in the staff room). And lastly, I would follow Bass’s shift from written to oral assignments; yes, my students needed to learn how to write, but how could they write any deep critical interpretations without knowing why or how they made such interpretations?

Ultimately, I was a good teacher trying her best to work with the limited knowledge she had. I taught my developmental students basic skills, which I suppose was all that was expected of me as the teacher of a Basic Skills course. But I wonder – oh, how I wonder – what transformation would have taken place had I helped my students make those deeper connections with the text. Would those frequently maligned and misunderstood students have become stronger, better thinkers who valued difficulty and recognized it as a way to bridge the gap between surface observation and deeper meaning? Could I have helped them out of the “good dog” mentality and into true scholarship?

I think I could have. And if I ever have the opportunity again, I won’t let it slip away.

After reading through several Visible Knowledge Project posters…

After reading through several Visible Knowledge Project posters, I’m interested in exploring further the definitions of critical reading given by Sherry Linkon. I’d like to consider how I could better implement the qualities of critical reading as Linkon defines them (inquiry, connectivity, recursivity, self-awareness, and synthesis) in my classroom.

In terms of inquiry, I liked Professor Sample’s suggestion from class last week: instead of highlighting, write a comment or ask a question. When I saw my students on Thursday, I encouraged them to use this technique on their next detective short story. I know from my own experience that highlighting is not nearly as effective as marking questions or summarizing in the margins; when I return to a text, I often forget the reason for my initial highlights. In addition, while highlighting consists of a rather passive interaction with the text, being forced to summarize, question, or comment on the text creates a much more engaged relationship between reader and text.

Since my first student teaching experience, I have been convinced of the effectiveness of connectivity, primarily in sparking interest in a text. Usually, I consider the varying connections that could be made to a certain text, and then consider my current class. Depending on their varying interests and ability levels, I try to find a few connections to focus on; because we do so much reading and writing in English class, I seek out activities that reach what many educational theorists refer to as the “whole student”: music, art, physical activity, etc. For instance, before teaching a novel, I may choose a relatively accessible poem with a similar theme. I read the poem aloud to students several times; while I read, the students use markers or colored pencils to draw their responses. Even though many students do not consider themselves “artistic,” the images they create most often lend themselves to thoughtful discussion.

As I posted in a comment to Francois’ blog, so far I’ve found the difficulty paper to be an excellent tool for creating self-awareness in student reading. It also seems to be a valuable method of recursivity, encouraging students to reread portions of the text. I’d be interested to know if any of you have additional suggestions for student reflection or recursivity that could be adapted to a variety of texts.

To be completely honest, I’m afraid I’m not requiring or encouraging my students to do much in the way of synthesis, at least in terms of combining reading and research. The research we do in my class is somewhat of an island, distinctly separated from the rest of the curriculum. We do one MLA research paper per year, and it doesn’t really connect to the literature we’re studying. I’d like to spend some time this semester developing a plan for making the research process more relevant to my content; perhaps I can use this goal as a starting point for my teaching presentation in this course.

Deferring Meaning and Reading

Randy Bass’ post within the Visible Knowledge Project presents two crucial insights into the minds of college readers. The first point that Bass, a leading figure in the Scholarship of Teaching and Learning (SOTL) movement, makes is that students obsess and focus on unclear reading passages. If a certain sentence or section is not immediately clear, students will spend enormous amounts of time attempting to decode that particular area. As a result, many readers will either never finish the rest of the text or they will lose interest in the work entirely.

My experience with college-level readers, particular those in developmental courses, mirrors Bass’ findings. I have noticed students struggle with a single sentence for several minutes. Consequently, they do not finish the reading on time, and they tend to fall behind. Some students will waste a considerable amount of resources and time looking up new vocabulary words when they should focus instead on the text’s overall meaning and value. Once the meaning for that word, sentence or section is clarified, they have no trouble progressing.

This brings up Bass’ second major point about reading: deferral. Teachers should advocate and explain the idea of “deferring meaning” while reading.

Expert readers may not fully grasp each and ever sentence during their first read. However, they are experienced, so they refuse to allow a small element in the work to impede their progress. The importance of the piece’s overall meaning overrides the desire to understand a specific sentence or unknown word. Novice readers operate from the standpoint of a recipe. I find the recipe analogy appropriate because it fits the mindset of many readers. From the novice reader point of view, every sentence and word must be understood as they are encountered if the entire work is to make sense. Recipes must be followed sequentially; therefore, the meaning of a book or essay must be decoded sequentially. The idea of skipping sections and deferring meaning until later seems “dishonest” or “incorrect”.

In my English composition courses, I try to encourage students to skip over difficult areas in a text. As a class, we can always cover these trouble spots later. Novice readers must remember that the first goal in reading is to comprehend the meaning of the text. Vocabulary and bizarre sentence structures can be dissected later. Nonetheless, many of my students refuse to “let go” of the recipe or formula schema. They continue to spend a great deal of energy on individual elements. Coupled with a lack of confidence in their own abilities, this recipe schema undercuts the ability of novice readers to tackle difficult readings. Students must build up confidence by exploring a variety of texts to reassess their approach to reading. Expert readers, on the other hand, tend to skip over sections quickly without consciously acknowledging this activity.