WHAT DEB KNOWS

I am a huge Deb Day fan.  She has written words that stay with me, words that speak to my teacher heart.  When Deb writes about a book, it immediately goes on my ‘Someday List.’  I have often thought, “If only I could teach across the hall from Deb…” when reading her blog posts.  If you have visited her blog Coffee with Chloe, I am certain you know what I mean.

After months of anticipation and planning, I spent the whole day in Deb’s classroom today.  From the start I felt right at home—just being around Deb means feeling comfortable and valued.  And there is nothing quite like getting to see an effective teacher in action. 

Me with Deb

I took notes all day using the note-taking style Nancie Atwell suggests for her interns.  It is a simple and practical way to capture observations.  On the left, I listed the things I saw or heard.  On the right, I noted my response.

a page of my observation notes

I ended up with 4 pages of notes like these throughout Deb’s seven classes.  However, I don’t think I even came close to capturing all of my thinking in ink on those pages.  My mind is still bouncing around snippets of conversations I heard.  I am still absorbing all the goodness that is embedded in the work Deb does with her students. 

Here is a glimpse into Deb’s classroom through my eyes:

Kids need space between the work to talk about other things—Deb knows this.

Talk is a necessary part of the writing process—Deb knows this.

A culture of working hard and learning is most effectively created when couched in a casual, laid-back atmosphere—Deb knows this.

Students become READERS when they have a teacher who models a reading life, who holds them accountable, and whose passion for story is evident on her classroom shelves—Deb knows this.

Students need to be set up for success. Building capacity and self-esteem before thinking deeply about complex text helps create engagement and a willingness to struggle later on—Deb knows this.

Trust and motivation are built with the voice of, “I like you and I know you can do better.  I want that for you.”—Deb knows this.

Inspiration for writing comes from lots of places, including Deb’s filing cabinet—a sort of treasure chest of mentor text gold—Deb knows this.

When the work students are doing matters to them, the process is more likely to draw them in revision after revision—Deb knows this.

Even the small talk during classroom transitions can be intentional if it is filled with nudging, encouragement, validation, accountability, and celebration—Deb knows this.

Being real and honest with students is the foundation of building relationships—Deb knows this.

Instead of CHECKING UP ON students, it is more effective to CHECK IN WITH them by eliciting reflection through questions like, “Did this process help?  How?”—Deb knows this.

When students expect the work to be meaningful, they make it meaningful—Deb knows this.

Teenage boys ARE readers and writers—Deb knows this. 

In fact, she not only knows these things, but she makes them happen.  She is amazing.

p.s.  Her dog Chloe is pretty amazing too.

STORY TIME

 

The Slice of Life Challenge is hosted by TWO WRITING TEACHERS

Last night I started reading Being Henry David by Cal Armistead. It begins with a boy who awakes in Penn Station with nothing but a copy of Thoreau’s Walden, a small wound on his head, and a few bucks in his pocket.  He has no idea who he is, no idea how he got there.  I would’ve stayed up all night to finish the story had my burning eyes allowed me to. 

I woke up early this morning just to snatch an hour of reading time before my day began.   I read that the protagonist, who (for lack of memory of his real name) refers to himself as “Henry David.  Son.  Henry Davidson” and is quickly nicknamed “Hank” by a fellow street kid, made his way to Walden Pond in an attempt to buy enough time to regain his memory and avoid the danger of life on the streets.

That’s as far as I got by the time I had to shower and head to the grocery store. 

I stole a few more minutes to read in the backseat of the car when my husband picked up my father-in-law on our way to his sister’s house for an Easter meal.  Hank took refuge in a high school in Concord, Massachusetts and has started to have flashes of memory return to him in painful bursts. 

I peeled myself out of the story long enough to be present for a meal in good company.  I enjoyed doling out my Easter “aunt crap” to our nieces, who have learned that they never know what to expect other than that their gifts will be quirky.  This year, they were lucky enough to find such items as finger mustache tattoos, a bagel yo-yo, owl earrings, owl stickers, Squirmles, and a Fifty Farts deck of cards in their gift bags.  We also always, always give them cash.  The cash is a sort of pay-off in return for allowing me the fun of giving “aunt crap.”

I may have snuck a glance at the book peeking out of my purse while we sat around the table and talked after dinner, after egg coloring, but I did resist the urge to steal away in the corner to find out what happens to Hank.  The tug of spending time with family I don’t see nearly often enough remained more powerful than the pull of the story.

However, now that I am home, in pajamas, with lunches prepped for the week, clothes ironed for tomorrow, grades updated, and plans sketched out, the book patiently resting on the table across the room is drawing me near.  Hank and his story have waited long enough…

FOUND

The Slice of Life Challenge is hosted by TWO WRITING TEACHERS

At a department meeting, when sharing what we’ve been reading, a colleague shared that she had gotten a box of books from an estate sale that her mom had purchased for a single title then passed the rest on to her.  Each of the books, she said, had an airplane ticket tucked inside—a record of where each book had been read. 

I like this idea.  It is the literal manifestation of books taking us places.

Maybe I will use this in a story one day. 

I do not tuck airplane tickets inside my books.  But some of them do hold notes.

notes about characters and plot from college

one of my mom's old book reports in a favorite childhood book she passed down to me

proof that my father was never a great speller (nor really into READING his books so much as doodling) in an old schoolbook of his

notes on characters and symbolism from a college course on Southern American literature on one of my favorite books

post-it notes marking some favorite poetry by Robert Frost and e.e. cummings in an old college textbook

I wonder who will find them at an estate sale one day.  Maybe they will use them in a story one day.

STUFF

The Slice of Life Challenge is hosted by TWO WRITING TEACHERS

Sometimes stuff makes me happy. 

I know there are more important things in life.  I know I don’t need this stuff in order to be happy.

But sometimes the stuff is icing on the cake (or frosting on the spoon) that just makes life feel good. 

Yesterday my dog had her last dose of medicine to fight her heartworms.  Since she survived the medicine (no allergic reaction), she is pretty much considered cured.  This is an incredible relief.

Yesterday I also found out that the teacher next door to me (new this year to replace my friend who took a curriculum coordinator position), to whom I’ve grown close, is not going to be RIF’ed or involuntarily transferred to another position.  This is amazing news that frees me to start working with her on plans for next school year. 

These are the things that truly matter. 

But sometimes, it just doesn’t hurt to get a new couch.  Especially if it happens to be the one I posted on Pinterest long ago and didn’t even remember I had pinned until after it had been ordered. 

from my "For the Home" board on Pinterest

And sometimes it doesn’t hurt to get a new rug.  Especially if it perfectly matches the curtains I sewed this winter.

new settee and area rug

And sometimes it really doesn’t hurt to get a king-size bed to replace the queen-size bed my husband has been teetering off the edge of for years.  Especially if the bed helps tie to together the beach cottage decorating scheme we have going. 

close-up of print hanging over bed--the design inspiration for the room

new {unmade} bed

Yeah, sometimes stuff makes me happy.  Especially when it is like licking icing off a spoon after eating a healthy, satisfying meal. 

THE WEEKEND TO-DO LIST I CAN ACTUALLY DO:*

The Slice of Life Challenge is hosted by TWO WRITING TEACHERS

• return book stack to library and get lost amongst the shelves for hours
• unbox latest Amazon purchase
• avoid grading
• live dangerously by grocery shopping on an empty stomach
• listen to latest audiobook
• catch up on this week’s episodes of People’s Court
• snuggle the dogs while laying on the couch as if tending to dogs gives a semblance of productivity
• chop fresh veggies for a healthy snack option
• choose to eat a spoonful of vanilla frosting instead
• write a new “to-do” list combining what still isn’t done from the last list with new tasks

*At the end of REAL SIMPLE magazine, on the very last page, there is always a humorous piece of writing.  Today’s slice is inspired by one such piece.

MUSCLE

The Slice of Life Challenge is hosted by TWO WRITING TEACHERS

My body is itching for the weather to warm up enough for me to run outdoors on a regular basis (I can’t run in cold weather because it is a trigger for my asthma).  My muscles ache with the desire to be set free on the path near our house. 

I can count on my body to nudge me to get moving.  My muscles need to be stretched, warmed up, worked, pushed, exhausted.

Even my writing muscle.

My eyelids are heavy this evening. I couldn’t help but crawl into bed at a decent hour.  But after about 20 minutes of reading, here I am.  Out of bed.  In front of the screen.  Why?  Because my writing muscle ached with the desire to be set free on the keys of my laptop. 

Apparently, I can count on my body to nudge even the writerly side of me to get moving.  My writing muscle needs to be stretched, warmed up, worked, pushed, exhausted. 

POTENTIAL

The Slice of Life Challenge is hosted by TWO WRITING TEACHERS

“I have to tell you, I am really excited about the potential in this room.”

I said this to my students today.  And I meant it. 

A few weeks ago, we immersed ourselves in close study of text.  Mostly text pairs: fiction (including poetry) paired with informational text.  Some informational text in a variety of formats.  A few fictional texts.

Then students brought in the devices of their choice and I provided access to laptop computers for a week of research: ask questions, read and paraphrase, read and paraphrase, learn, learn, learn.

Now, the class is moving from learning and collecting to drafting.  This is the exciting part.  This is also the point at which things could fall apart.  I know this.  I am nervous.  I am also optimistic.  I am a firm believer in the power of positive energy to build momentum—the good kind of momentum.

There is potential in the room.  I can feel it.

L is working on turning her snippets of information on a school fire into poetry from multiple viewpoints.  Her mentor text is Worlds Afire by Paul B. Janeczko.

K is working on a picture book titled Death Gets Lonely to document what he found out about the way various cultures embody death.  His mentor artist is Todd Parr.

E is working on poetry about the eating disorders she explored.  Four poems, four points of view: a girl with bulimia, a girl with anorexia, and bulimia and anorexia personified.  Her mentor texts will be poetry from the iceberg’s viewpoint in The Watch that Ends the Night by Allan Wolf and poetry from the fence’s point of view in October Mourning: A Song for Matthew Shepard by Leslea Newman.

P is working on a sort of comic book to capture his discoveries about graphic novels and they way they are put together.  His mentor texts are Making Comics: Storytelling Secrets of Comics, Manga, and Graphic Novels by Scott McCloud and “Distant Rain” by Shaun Tan from Tales from Outer Suburbia

E is working on a fake chapter from Every Day by David Levithan to demonstrate her learning about synesthesia.  In this chapter, ‘A’ wakes up in the body of a synesthete.   Her mentor text is David Levithan’s short story (an Amazon exclusive) that takes place prior to the book. 

J is working on a short story about boy facing the challenge of dyslexia as a means of revealing what he learned through his research.  His mentor text is an excerpt from Fever, 1793 by Laurie Halse Anderson.

There is so much potential in this room.  I can feel it.