Author Archives: dogtrax

I almost always write with my students. If its a writing prompt, I am sitting there, in their midst, creating. And sharing my process. If it is a project, I am working on it in the days before I assign it. And I am sharing my process. Students need to see their teachers as writers if they are to view writing as an authentic experience. And they are always very interested in what I am up to.

Yesterday, I decided to make my writing even more visible. We were working on a short story prompt inspired by The Mysteries of Harris Burdick by Chris Van Allsburg. We’ve used the odd illustrations through the year, so they are by now pretty familiar with the concept. This time, instead of sitting in their midst, I sat at my computer that is attached to my interactive board, and I wrote. This made me somewhat naked as a writer at the board — as I was typing, making mistakes, rewording phrases, reworking ideas, shifting voice, correcting tense …. my students were watching and taking it in.

Of course, they were writing, too, but I could feel their eyes on me from time to time. I’d look up, to gather a new idea, and see about six to eight students staring at the screen. I’d smile. They’d smile. I’d get back to writing and then, they’d get back to writing. By the end of the day, after four class periods, I had the start of a story that may or may not go somewhere next week as we keep working in our notebooks. More than a few asked at the end of each class to read what I had written. Of course, I let them.

What I didn’t do this time is process what I was doing with my writing out loud. I just let my writing speak for itself, and I think it was enough for them to see a story unfolding before them to give them some inspiration. Teachers need to write because writing is not easy. A finished, polished piece of writing doesn’t just come off the fingers of authors like some sparkle of magic. There’s a lot of back and forth, crossing out, revision, reworking and stumbling that goes on, and I was doing my best to make it all visible to them on the giant board.

This is the story I came up with. It is inspired by the illustration called Archie Smith, Boy Wonder.
Archie Smith, Boy Wonder short story
Peace (in the writing),
Kevin

 

We lost yesterday.

During our school’s 13th Annual Quidditch Championship, my homeroom team could not score enough points to win. Since there are four teams, only one will become the winner. We all know this going in, and as teachers, we don’t concentrate on the “winning” so much as the experience: the sense of community that forms around the game; the myriad art projects from t-shirts to posters; the writing and technology activities; the sense that as the oldest students in the school, this is their time for the spotlight; and more.

Still, yesterday morning before the games began, my class was brimming with confidence. They thought they had a shot at the title. “We’re going to get the cup for you, Mr. H,” one boy said, high-fiving me. And they worked hard. No one was holding back. They just came up a bit short during the day. Another class was just stronger and faster.

Back in our classroom room briefly at the very end of the day, I gave a post-tournament pep talk, focusing in on all that I saw out on the Quidditch floor: the teamwork, the hustle, the cheering, the sportsmanship. They listened. Some had their heads down, tired or frustrated or both. As a teacher (and their coach), it was a difficult moment. I want them all to be winners in everything they do. I am one of their biggest cheerleaders. But I know from experience life is not like that. Many times, you lose. In fact, we often lose more than win, and that’s what makes the winning so special when it happens.

So, I let my kids know in no uncertain terms how proud I was of them as a class and how honored I was to be in their midst.  I reminded them of the weeks behind us, when we came together for each other. There was a moment of silence in the room as this message sank in (I think) and then one boy who had had his heart set on winning and who was completely exhausted from his efforts, said loudly and cheerfully for all of us to hear:

“That was fun.”

And there you have it. That’s what we hope they will remember over the years. It really is not about who scores the most points, as nice as it is. It’s about the experience of participating in something special and unique (I don’t think too many elementary schools hold their own Quidditch Tournaments year after year.) And it’s awfully fun.

Peace (and magic),
Kevin

 

Today is our Annual Quidditch Championship. It’s no doubt going to be a loud, energetic day. I feel a headache coming on already.

🙂

Leading up to this day have been various curriculum activities (writing, art, math, etc.) but I also put out a voluntary challenge to my students. I set up a project in our Glogster account and challenged them to create a poster that celebrates our game of Quidditch. The winner will get a toy Snitch.

Here is the one that won:

Peace (in the game),
Kevin

 

It wasn’t too many years ago that I (perhaps like you) scoffed at the idea that standardized testing would ever alter the way I teach my students. I was confident that my approaches and my philosophies around writing, in particular, would carry my students forward, no matter what kind of assessment would be thrown their way. The writers and readers in them — the things were nurtured all year — would shine through.

I was confident of this approach … until I began to see some of the data provided by our state in the aftermath of the tests. (Note: we just had state testing last week so this topic has been lingering in my head).

After a few years of looking at those numbers that come like a flood our way, and parsing them around, it became clear to me that my students, overall, were having significant difficulties in a variety of specific areas and the testing results were showing me these weaknesses, if I cared to notice. This is what the designers of standardized testing will say their system is all about, right? It is designed to highlight areas of strengths and deficiencies, and teachers need to act on that data.

But first, you have to shake off the idea that no test administered by the state can be valuable … at all. There are plenty of reasons not to like standardized testing: children may not do well on a two-day test; the assessment is narrow in scope; the stress of sitting for two hours does not bring out the best in our students; the scores come to us too late to help the crop of students we are currently teaching; the students are writing to an unknown and inauthentic audience; and so on. I still believe those are areas of concern and ones that we can’t lose sight of. The test is not the be-all, end-all of the school year.

However, if we look for trends in the data (and the testing is nothing if not full of data), then the numbers can provide a path for us to change what we do, hopefully for the better. For me, I now look with depth at the scores of the tests from this year’s class and last year’s class. I want to see this current group as a whole and I want to know if we made gains the year just gone by.

What have I found?

Non-fiction reading and writing have been sorely weak, across the board, every year. Open responses were dismal, and even somewhat alarming. We even noticed flags around multiple choice strategies, with questions left blank or answers guessed with no evidence of narrowing the field of possibilities. There has been enough evidence in the numbers that I have had to come to the realization that I was being hypocritical, in a way, if I was saying that I could not effectively use the state testing data and that I did not need to change my teaching. I did, and I have, and yet, I have also tried to keep a real balance between my philosophy around writing (that we write to learn; that we write for authentic purposes) with honing in on skills that I didn’t even know were lacking in my students or my lessons until the data showed me those gaps.

I can’t say this is always a comfortable realization, and I have struggled with how to even write this post on this topic. I imagine there are plenty of folks who might take me to task on this. (If so, please join the conversation and add a comment).

I’m still worried about the shifts in the Common Core, and what the assessments will look like (and how I might need to keep adjusting), and I often feel this internal resistance to viewing my teaching through the results of standardized testing. But I am also a realist. I know my school district places importance on those numbers. And I know that I need to be open for improving my teaching, from whatever direction it comes. I just have to make sure that I don’t lose the heart and center of why I teach. The results so far of my shifts have proved that I seem to be in the right direction: my students’ responses to reading are stronger than ever; they have a much better grasp on the elements of non-fiction;  and our scores on the state tests last year were among the highest gains in our school, and district.

Peace (in the shift),
Kevin

 

The writing prompt I had for my students yesterday tapped into their energy and enthusiasm around our game of Quidditch. They had to design, diagram, name and then explain in writing a “secret” play for their team. I’ve done versions of this prompt before, but this year, I had on the back of my mind a great video by Bee Foster around the literacies of diagramming out sports plays over at the National Writing Project’s Digital Is site. (The video — Football Plays — is part of a larger resource by Bee around Redefining Text.)

And this year, I had my interactive board, so after about 25 minutes of writing and drawing and creating, I turned the class over to my students and let them come up to the board, one at a time, and not only visually share their play, but also explain it in a sort of impromptu “how to” session in front of the class. It was pretty fascinating to watch, and I had Bee’s ideas running through my head about the learning that was going on around visual design, movement on a page, expository writing, public speaking and more.

The code for positions are:

• K: Keeper (goalie)
• CH: Chaser
• SK: Seeker
• B: Beater
• SL: Sidelines

The dotted lines indicate movement of player and the solid lines show passing of the quaffle among the chasers and keepers, or the bludger among the beaters. Got that? (if not, check out our Quidditch Tutorial video).

Peace (on the field),
Kevin