Why teach tech

I support integrating technology into your teaching, but I also think that not everything that is valuable for students to learn must be taught via technology and I argue that some things are learned best without the presence of technology. However, tech 2.0 is very powerful for many students, and I do plan to integrate it the best I can in my instruction. However, I also know that many lessons I teach will not have a technology element because it is not my favorite thing in the world and sometimes, I will not have the energy to find a way to incorporate the use of technology in a valuable manner.

The middle school experience

Well, my middle school dyad experience is almost over, and I have mixed feelings about leaving. On one hand, I spent more time grading than interacting with students, which I think is less helpful to my personal growth. I am glad I am moving on to a different MT whom I see more eye-to-eye with. On the other hand, I wish I could spend more time in a middle school science classroom of a different teacher at the school, since MS science is my planned destination.

Next year, when I look at my 6th, 7th, or 8th graders and try to figure out what the heck to do about their behavior, I will be practicing trial by fire. Maybe I'll get really lucky and whatever district I am working for will have lots of extra helpful middle school behavior management. I plan to have engaging lessons so as to avoid behavior problems, but between now and next September, I need to figure out how to act tough and confident, cause if you show adolescents any fear or nervousness, they will milk that and make your life miserable. Not all of them, but a high enough percentage of them to make your days extremely difficult.

I know I want to teach MS science, the content, and I am OK to deal with the negative aspects of adolescents in order to get the positive interactions as well.

Making Assessment Count

Routman says, in CH 10, that "unless teachers know how to teach writing well, student writing will not improve." Her point, I think, is that no matter what kinds of assessment teachers do, if the teacher does not teach writing well, there will never be any improvement.

Routman emphasizes assessment FOR learning and improved instruction rather than relying solely on assessment OF learning. She makes valuable points when she states that most (80%) of student writing needn't be graded. She also argues that just as students need to practice reading without pressure to improve reading skills, they also need to practice writing to become better writers. I do not think my education gave me enough practice in writing. I agree with the principle of not all writing being graded, but at the same time, some students, without the pressure of grades, won't do anything. They'll say, well if I'm not getting graded than why do it when I could be doing something else more fun. Some people have intrinsic motivation to do well at schoolwork, and they don't need the grades, but some people never developed that. How do you teach students the importance of delayed gratification? I hope I can teach it to my kids, but I do not know how I will teach it to my students. Probably, like many things, something one has to learn by making many mistakes along the way.

Routman argues that too many teachers focus on only what will be tested rather than teaching the underlying skills and strategies that result in writing competency. I agree with this statement, but I also appreciate her paragraph later in the chapter that states teachers still need to teach students how to write to prompts, because although it is unnatural, it is also very common. Students will have to write to many prompts in their life: on standardized tests, on college applications, on job applications.

Letting go of perfection and impatience

Lamott, p. 182: "Your unconscious can't work when you are breathing down its neck. You'll sit there going, 'Are you done in there yet, are you done in there yet?'. But it is trying to tell you nicely, 'Shut up and go away.'" 

Lamott wrote this in her chapter on writer's block, and it is so true. The minute I start fretting over if my brain is done yet, if this sentence works right here, worrying about the assignment getting done by the due date, my unconscious works poorly. Exhaustion has a similar effect on me and my brain. That's why I call 11:30 my pumpkin time--I turn into a pumpkin; my brain stops working, it all shuts down, I get whiny and crabby and just can't think.  When I am trying to force something to come about more quickly than it wants to, when I am breathing down my unconscious's neck, I also turn into a pumpkin. I am less accepting of this pumpkin time. I get angry at my unconscious, and I need to find a way to let that anger go. 

I think students of mine need to be able to leave their unconscious alone as well, so that it can do its work. My unconscious, and my students' unconsciouses, does not need constant supervision, just like many children do not really need constant supervision. If you are always on top of your unconscious or a child about being productive or focused, it/he/she rebels, and washes away all creativity that it might have offered. It was suffocated, sheltered, and never had time to try its wings which really probably would have otherwise worked pretty darn well, but since it didn't get enough air, it has caved in on itself, given up the ghost. Sad, I think.

Hearts of Writers

On p. 159 in Lamott's Bird by Bird, she writes the following:
"They've gone from being four tense, slightly conceited, lonely people...to one of those weird little families....They all look a lot less slick and cool...because helping each other has made their hearts get bigger. A big heart is both a clunky and delicate thing; it doesn't protect itself and it doesn't hide. It stands out, like a baby's fontanel, where you can see the soul pulse through. You can see this pulse in them now." She later says something about this is the way writers have to be--and regularly mentions how close to our hearts writing is. 


I like this quote because it so eloquently describes what it is like to give wholly of yourself to things in your life, be they writing or relationships or whatever. I am one of those people who gives wholly at first, and if I am soundly rejected or denounced or if my vulnerability is taken advantage of in some other way, I hurt a lot, and take a while to heal. And if I get to a comfort level following a rejection, where I feel it is safe to put my whole self out there, and it is again rejected, I become very very timid. I have been lucky in personal and familial relationships--I have always been able to recover pretty quickly because I am convinced they really do still love me, but this has not been the case in professional relationships or in relationships I have had as a writer with editors or graders of some kind. 


I think the heart Lamott describes in her passage is the best one to have, overall, and I still have that heart with most things in my life, the more important things in life (family, significant other), but in some parts of my life, my big pulsing heart is still in pieces.

Middle School Read-Aloud

Well, today I taught my first whole-group lesson in middle school, and I did a read-aloud for it as part of my literacy class in my cert. program. The content topic was a science one, understanding what a system is and identifying systems described in the book. I also included some literacy instruction as part of it, focusing on imagery and especially the use of personification in poetry. The book was Sierra, by Diane Siebert. Sierra is a lyrical rhyming poem about the natural history of the Sierra Nevada mountains and ecosystems of the mountain.

My goals for the lesson were to explore a different way of writing about science (poetry) and for the students to identify systems described or mentioned in the book. I think I accomplished these goals pretty well, really.

The students were kind of disoriented when they walked into the class and 1/3 of the desks were arranged in a big circle with stools in the circle as well. I heard a lot of "What is this?" and "This is weird" and "What is going on with this?". However, being 8th graders, they seemed to handle it fine once they read the directions on the document camera (If your desk is in a weird place, please leave it there and sit at lab station 6, 7 or 8).

Each period was different. First period was asleep still and there was low participation in the discussion surrounding the book and questions I asked at certain stopping points in the book. Second period went pretty well. It's a smaller class (first and fifth are the largest) and it seemed like there was maybe 65 or 70% class participation in discussion. There were only 2 or 3 kids that never had anything to say.

Both first and second went faster than the rest of the periods; we got through the book and all the questions faster, and I am not exactly sure why or how that happened. I know that in third, fourth, and fifth I had to do more behavior correction than in first and second period. That is probably where the time went, but it is something to ponder.

Third period, it seemed like there was high engagement and understanding, but at the same time, in that particular class period, there are 5 or 6 boys that really dominate conversation and really set a tone for the rest of the class. These 5 boys are all high-energy, really bright, and class clowns. So, though they have a lot to say that is valuable, they wind each other up and get off-task being goofy or funny really quick and fast. However, they seem to also quickly get back on task once I call them on it or let them move or something. And they do get other kids thinking by being so outgoing and open to sharing their thoughts. It seemed like there was always more that people wanted to say than we had time for during third period, which I think is mostly good. I used more pair-share in 3rd period so students would all get a chance to talk, mostly to get the question answered and the topic covered faster. The thing about those 5 or 6 boys is they are really likable--it is hard to really get irritated by them, at least it was for me today. I did not let them get away with things, mind you, at least I don't think so, but it is tempting to just give them the rein they are seeking. I thought I handled them pretty well, and so did my MT.

Fourth period had a very interesting dynamic. Probably 96% of the kids in there are really bright, but they are also all high-energy and they get off on tangents easily. The students in fourth period seem really comfortable in their own skin and with each other--I think maybe they have honors English, social studies, and math classes all together and so they know each other better. When people know each other better, they talk to each other a lot more, tease each other more, mostly in good nature, not in trying to be mean. I would say there was maybe 98% participation in discussion in that class. They all seemed very engaged. However, the discussion at times got out-of-hand with multiple people talking at the same time and just too much, you know? It was intense, though fun for me. My MT thinks they were testing me, pushing the boundaries, and I don't feel that way as strongly as he does. I think they are all just busybodies and kids that need to move. Plus, the period is right after lunch, and that does not help their concentration so much.

Fifth period was the most frustrating for me. There were more attempts at gaining power, pushing my buttons--really seeming like they were trying to irritate me or get me riled. I did a good job of staying calm and keeping most of my emotion out of my voice, but I am sure the students sensed some irritation from me sometimes. How do you keep yourself from showing that? It is hard for me. Not frustration, just irritation. Some kids just bother you, so how do you avoid letting them know that? The discussion in that class was very, very slow. Not just because of behavior problems, but because there are a fair number of struggling learners in that class, though my two easiest to handle classes (first and second) have an aide and my hardest one doesn't, so I wonder what the 5th-period students' statuses are--IEPs, 504s, or just kids who have never tested into anything. My MT says there are a lot of struggling learners in that class, and I have seen the evidence of that myself, I didn't just accept what he had to say, but I wish I knew why the students struggled. I don't know the why, maybe I will by the end of this internship.

What went well in the lesson:

• Students seemed to enjoy the story
• Students were able to identify most of the systems mentioned/described in the book
• I gave them clear things to look for in the story and I also told them what I wanted them to be able to do
• For the most part, I would say students were pretty engaged

What did not go well:

• The flow was great in some periods, off in others. I am interested in how students felt about the flow, though not sure how I'll find that out
• Many students struggled with identifying phrases or words that embodied personification. They could identify them if I read personification phrases to them, but most could not recall the words and phrases without prodding
• My MT observed that I was not consistent enough with my discipline/management of students; he thinks the lesson was solid, which he agrees is the first step towards managing behavior, having a well-planned and engaging lesson, but I did not have consequences for behavior, I kinda just kept reminding students to behave (mostly in 4th and 5th period), and that does not work with all students. Some need consequences to correct themselves.
• I ran out of time to complete the whole lesson-I did not have time in all the periods for them to complete a quick-write, so I had them finish it for HW, and that does not give you the same feedback as a quick-write does.

That's all I have for now. I get to go read the quick-writes that were completed today now. That will be interesting. And Friday, I'll go pick up the descriptions of systems in their personal life, outside of school in expository, narration (story), or poetry form. They each were assigned this: Provide and describe an example of a system in your life, outside of school, using either expository writing, narration, or poetry. I even made a rubric! I'm so proud of myself.

We shall see what those things tell us about what they understand.

Writing: a idea-land of many purposes

Regie Routman's depiction of what writing is, what it should be, and how to teach it in empowering ways is a very different take on things. Many of her points are common sense, but from what I have seen of writing pedagogy and what I have heard teachers say about teaching writing, common sense has disappeared from writing pedagogy.  

Teachers fear teaching writing because it is such an enormous task.  Everyone needs to be able to communicate effectively with others, and they need to be able to do so at appropriate levels. Becoming an effective writer requires a lot of practice. There are many purposes to writing, and children and adults need to work on identifying what the purpose of different writing work is. Routman argues that because educators are caught up in teaching formulas and structures for good writing, they lose sight of the varying intents of different kinds of writing. 

For example, college admission and scholarship essays. I thought universities wanted creative writing, very descriptive and full of imagery. My Dad thought that colleges wanted me to use writing primarily as a way of communicating who I am to someone who has no context of me. I do not know exactly what they wanted, but I got in and I got scholarships using my Dad's formula, so it must have some merit.  I used to think that the purpose of all writing was to demonstrate how good at using imagery I was, because I have a special talent for creative writing and storytelling (which, by the way, I never demonstrate because I do not think that is what professors in education want to hear and because my senior year of high school, my teacher pounded on all of my creative writing, saying it was a waste of time and energy and effort and by golly that is not what they wanted on the AP test). My Dad helped me learn, more than teachers did, I think, that writing has many different purposes in different settings and contexts.  Not all students will have a Dad (or any adult other than their teacher) who is a good writer and who will spend  time helping them grow as writers. The effort he put into me helped me become a collegiate writer who fairly regularly wowed my professors.  Many papers in college (undergrad) came back with many positive comments and usually accompanied by verbal comments about how clearly I communicated my ideas.  

I think Routman's point about how if we want students to be able to write well, they need to see our own process of writing, because often we teach formulas that research has shown worked, but you are losing much of the thought and intent behind writing by just teaching children formulas or templates which they just have to fill in (the 5-paragraph essay, for example).  There is a place for the 5-paragraph essay, don't get me wrong, but that does not encompass the whole idea of writing nor does it illustrate the ubiquitous purposes of writing.  We teach kids what to write in school, but not really in life.  How many adults write 5-paragraph essays on a regular basis in their workplace? Not many, I don't think.  Yes they write things to persuade others to do things or to share information with others, but most of the time they are emails or conversations.