July 21, 2008
GUMS–Grammar, Usage, Mechanics, Spelling. If there were really a way to get around teaching this business in fifth grade, I’d have found it. Since it is un-getaroundable, I’m trying to figure out a more positive approach. I’ve been hanging on to a DOL (daily oral language) program, because it doesn’t seem harmful and is quickly done each jam-packed day. I am required to use a word study program, which I feel okay about, so spelling (and to a limited extent usage) is in a decent place. And my writer’s workshop includes focus lessons and conferring in the GUMS sphere, but it doesn’t feel substantial enough, and I don’t want editing to take over our writing work.
But for grammar, mechanics, and usage, I’ve been searching for something different than the deficit model that DOL provides. My students certainly learn with DOL–they learn to spot what is wrong in a sentence, and often can fix that sentence. That seems to be where things stop, as students do not transfer this knowledge into the sentences they construct–at least not to my satisfaction.
I might have drifted through another year (or two or three) with no change, but I ran across an article on the National Writing Project website. Written by Bev Matulis, it was about her work with “featured sentence structure” to provide positive examples for students to study and imitate the structures/strategies of sentences from great kid lit books. Matulis referenced the work of Don and Jenny Killgallon, so I sent for a couple of their books–Sentence Composing for Elementary School and Story Grammar for Elementary School. I like the way the books build on concepts of parts of speech, sentence structure, etc., and leave room for some inquiry. The best is that each concept gives multiple rich examples, allows students to explore and recognize patterns, then holds students accountable for trying these patterns out in their own writing.
So I’m planning to use the Killgallon texts to jump-start this more positive approach to learning about English. My “glass half empty” voice is crabbily griping about the increased time requirement for this work, and that is a valid concern. Every decision in teaching can feel like robbing Peter to pay Paul. But there is also a hope here for me, that this sort of work will contribute in significant ways to the growth of my students as writers, and therefore as thinkers. And since I’ve been looking at restructuring my reader’s workshop, I’m going to find a way to make this fit and function in my practice.
July 10, 2008
I’m reading the third and final professional book on my summer list. Well, I actually have picked up a few more, but Choice Words by Peter Johnston is the last I committed to finish by summer’s end. I wrote a bit about Peter Johnston after attending a panel last fall at the NWP/NCTE convention in NYC. The subtitle of the book is “How Our Language Affects Children’s Learning”, and that is something I knew I needed to reflect pretty seriously on in my teaching practice.
This book is excellent, and I’ll have to reread parts of it, because I’m ready to be more effective in how I use language to promote learning. My fear in reading this book, after hearing the author speak, was that I would languish in shame over years of poorly-worded interactions with students. Thankfully, I found (and I think most teachers would also find) that I use a lot of this language in my daily teaching. What I need to do is be more conscious, deliberate, and strategic in my use of language that empowers my learners. To help me remember bits of Johnston’s ideas on language, I’m making these little charts–

Don’t ask me where I’m going to put the little charts, because I haven’t figured that out quite yet. And the charts won’t mean much if I don’t reread parts of the book and actually make myself reflect on my language use during the daily insanity of classroom life, not just from my quiet, child-free domicile. And I have to finish the last two chapters and about 3 more little charts.
July 1, 2008

I have a rather terrible habit of assuming conscious negative intent when “higher-ups” (or their potential henchpeople) mention professional titles. I anticipate more bolted-on, poorly supported shifts in curriculum and practices that don’t end up benefiting students as promised and promoted. So during the last week of school, an enthusiastic literacy coach dropped the title Cracking Open the Author’s Craft by Lester Laminack in my ear. Visions of yet more “stuff” plopped on the heads of myself and my teaching pals danced in my head, so I ordered this book and decided to play detective.
It’s okay. Laminack has used a picture book memoir he wrote, Saturdays and Teacakes, to examine a handful of “craft moves”. I wish I’d run into this three years ago when I was floundering to figure this out. But plenty of others are still floundering, and this is the perfect way to ease in to teaching writer’s craft. The book comes with a super-handy DVD with Laminack reading his book and talking through several potential focus lessons-worth of craft points to ponder with students. By using just one text, he makes it seem very manageable, and gives suggestions for other texts that display similar craft work.
He relies pretty heavily on the work of Katie Wood Ray, which I appreciated since I do the same when it comes to craft work! But I have found that my colleagues who show interest in learning more about writer’s craft cringe at the size of her book Wondrous Words. Laminack’s slim volume invites even reluctant teachers to consider teaching writer’s craft and facilitating text inquiry.
So now instead of impending dread, I look forward to using this resource as a teaching staff–viewing portions of the DVD, discussing what it means to “read with writer’s eyes”, and imagining together how we can use the study of craft to grow our young writers.
July 1, 2008

I finished Notebook Know-How: Strategies for the Writer’s Notebook by Aimee Buckner yesterday. Some useful ideas from a teacher/writer who is clearly very thoughtful. Sadly, I did not get the magic shortcut for the one universally perfect way to help students organize their writer’s notebooks. But I did get some promising ideas for ways to use their notebooks in their writing lives.
I have been using the strategy of asking students to find the “golden” line from an otherwise bland piece for a while now. Buckner has me excited to try a larger commitment of rereading and highlighting throughout the notebook. I tried it out for about ten minutes with my notebook from a couple years ago, and here are a some bits I highlighted:
- (long-distance snow-peeing was my favorite contest and I am still the reigning champion)
- I always wanted to learn to fish. If I hated it, at least I’d know. Time was the only measurable commodity left to me.
- She was far too young to suffer and die in this way.
- Your grinning grin split your pride-struck face
- She wore her outcast status for the world to see, a pair of baggy gym shorts.
- I don’t wonder how she could do such a thing, but how we miss seeing the train ourselves, coming after the lost people all around us.
- So if you lose, that’s not always the end of the game.
- Sometimes it is the little shames, like the shame of one word, that best express the great crimes in human history.
- His cry-babyness meant he spent years of his life laying on the ground in tears, then finally grew up enough to get up off the ground and stand around crying.
Who knows when I would have looked back at the writing in this notebook if not for this strategy. I was prompted to remember and reflect on my writing in a way I simply would have avoided. I also like seeing some of the parts I highlighted here on this page–pulling out words that catch me or delight me–my words–makes me feel extra-talented. Left in the context of my notebook…well, not so much, since plenty of the notebook writing is useful, but not particularly meaningful or full of the pithy wit and whatnot.
My goal is to let this list sit for a while, then come back and write from it, away from the original contexts. And I think my plan would work for some of my students as well. Fun. Writing. Strategy.
June 23, 2008

Progress is slow on the social studies wiki. It has occurred to me that this is because I’m not working with a focus. My class next year will have a significant number of students with learning disabilities, focus issues, and rather low reading skills. So as I’m working on this wiki, I’m thinking about how I can bring in essential knowledge in ways that are accessible, but leave room for students to reach out and explore beyond the required curriculum. I want to leave room for students to add and grow the wiki. I don’t know if I want to incorporate any assignment-y questions or directives…
Part of me wishes I were the sort to think things through, but as I write I know what will happen; I will just blunder on, making mistakes until I hit on the framework/s that feel right. I’m already realizing that different units of study will look differently on the wiki–some strictly reading material, others prompts for research. Onward, ever onward…
June 20, 2008
I am in the midst of two weeks of swim lessons with the niece and neph. The neph and I do Aquatots, then watch the niece, Allison, in her much higher-level class. At 9, she loves to swim and shows confidence and grace in the water.
So I was slightly aghast when she begged not to go to lessons on the third day. When I asked why, she replied, “I hate sidestroke.” Ah. In the previous days lessons, this was the only brand-new stroke introduced. She had been complimented on her front crawl, backstroke, breaststroke…and then given some coaching on her efforts at sidestroke.
As an observer, I felt the instructor handled all his teaching well. But Allison was upset that she had not immediately mastered sidestroke, and was clearly afraid that she would continue to flounder in her efforts to coordinate scissor-kicking with the “pick an apple, put it in the basket” arm motions.
And so ensued my encouragement speech, the “practice makes perfect” and “personal best” sort of pep talk that has worked so well in the past. She was having none of it. In the end, I resorted to, “You are not a quitter. You will go to your lesson, pay attention, and give your best effort to everything you are asked to do. Period.”
Ah. This worked, much to my surprise given her recent flirtation with being a stubborn-cuss-of-a-kid. She went, she attended to the instruction, she made an honest effort and showed significant improvement. Her instructor complimented her effort and improvement, and now we are back to loving the swim lessons.
I love it when the “personal best” talk creates motivation for my students, and it works well–with some kids some of the time. But the “you will try without complaint or quitting” talk really does the trick in certain situations. I think sometimes, like with my niece, my students just need to be given marching orders–when the decision is out of their hands, it seems to lift a weight from their shoulders. Is it the inevitability that resigns them to their fate? Is it the inherent confidence I place in their abilities? Well, maybe not the last one, but it’s a nice thought.