The other kind of writing

I love writing.  I love teaching about writing.  I love helping students learn more about writing.

I even love talking about teaching writing.

Coaching students to develop as more confident and more successful writers is a passion for me.  Naturally, when I hear anything about writing I pay sharp attention.

Recently, my colleagues have begun to talk about what writing looks like in their classrooms.  We have met and will continue to meet in small learning communities to discuss what kinds of writing our students do, what skills they need, and what path can we take to make sure they are well prepared for college and career.

We have talked about writing modes–descriptive, narrative, informative (I still like expository), and argument.  We have talked about patterns of organization–compare/contrast, process analysis, classification and division and so on.  We have discussed usage errors and student resistance to revise their works. We are even talking about the difference between writing to learn and learning to write. We have started to talk about many of my favorite things.

However, we have not talked about the other kind of writing yet.  We have not talked about the kind of writing that cements a student’s learning.  

This past week, I had an amazing experience with my students in reflective and metacognitive writing.

For years, even before I ever learned about the importance of metacognition, I routinely asked students to take the time to write about what they learned, how they felt while learning it, and what about the learning was important.  Oftentimes, I assigned this at the end of a marking period or as a portfolio reflection.

This time I asked the Digital Literacy Skills students to reflect on their work from the first quarter.  But I did this a little bit differently than I usually did.  Frequently, in Digital Literacy or in Writing Skills, I assign the students a reflection activity.  I give them a list of the modes, skills, and strategies that we worked on and ask them to write about their most successful and least successful experiences. And they always amazed me with their honesty.  

This time around, I changed it up a little.  First of all, I did not give them a list of what we did.  I simply told them to scroll through Google Classroom from the bottom up and review all the work they completed so far.  Then I asked them to consider these questions:

  • What have I learned?
  • What was my favorite lesson?
  • What work am I most proud of?
  • What could I have worked harder on?
  • How am I working in a group? Am I an asset to helping my peers or am I a distraction?
  • What have I learned about my ability to manage my time in class?
  • What is my work ethic like?
  • Do I work slower than most? Faster than most?
  • Do I bring my best effort to this class?
  • How important are the lessons in this class?
  • How do these lessons apply to school work?
  • How do these lessons apply to my life?
  • What would I like to learn?

I did not think long and hard about these questions.  I wrote them quickly, reacting likely to some of my students’ problems with working in a group.  I also know that I was annoyed by the report of a student who thought that this course was a filler.  That probably rattled me more than anything.  Certainly, no teacher wants their students to think that a course does not mIMG_1116atter, but that challenge might actually have opened my eyes to what I need to offer for my students more regularly–the chance to stop, reflect, write, self assess, and consider the relevance of their learning.

When I started to read their responses, I expected them to talk about how much they like Genius Hour and how they like working on computers each day.  And many of them did write that.  But so many students really seem to be thinking about their future selves and about “soft skills,” and that was amazing to read.

One of my students did not even mention technology initially, concentrating on other aspects of the class.  He wrote, “So far in digital literacy I have learned many things including how to work in a group, how to cooperate with others, also how to make presentations and speak in front of people and feel comfortable.”

Many of them were honest about their effort. “I do bring my best efforts to class because I want to learn and help others with the knowledge I have,” wrote one student.

They were honest about their work ethic. “For example, my laziness for things that I have to get done on my own is a very big weakness of mine that I hope to improve on in the future.”

Another wrote, “My work ethic is excellent and I always show up.” I love the way he worded that.  

Realizing the side effect of working hard in class, this young man wrote, “I have learned that while I am doing my work my time management can be better, and that time flies when you are getting things done.”

“I have learned that I manage time at my own pace so I don’t get too over loaded with work frequently,” wrote another student.  That is a skill that is certainly valuable for his future.

Some of the students are overcoming personal struggles. “Seeing their reaction to the presentation made me very happy. I was scared that they would make rude comments and say stuff about it, but it was the complete opposite of what I thought would happen,” wrote one student.

Another wrote about stretching herself. “After finishing this quarter, I have come to realize my true potential. I have learned different tools and techniques where I can display my thoughts. Also, I’ve learned different presentation tools that are a step out of my comfort zone where I can present my thought in a more unique way”

“Also, I had never used any of the tools that we used for Process Analysis. It was kind of a shock to me and it was harder than I was expecting. That’s good, though. It’s good because I’m a sophomore in High School. I’d rather have a difficult time now than later. It is much better to get the process down now and be experienced in college than to try to learn on the fly,” wrote another.

In addition to their honest self assessment, there were even a few comments that made me feel good.

A student wrote, “I like how this class is different, I never know what to expect. I’ve accomplished things I haven’t before.”

Another wrote,”This is my favorite class so it is easier for me to do well and learn things.” Wow.  He understands the human aspect of teaching.

But the sweetest bit of all was from this student: “It is no doubt my favorite class to come to just because the class seems so nice.”

The writing modes they work in, the presentation tools they explore, the content that they learn–none of this is as important as the other things they are learning: working to the best of their ability, working well with others, managing their time wisely, taking risks, and feeling comfortable with themselves.  

Without that reflective piece, I may never have realized that this “other kind of writing” was the one that brought me the most joy and fulfillment in realizing that what I am really teaching is not writing, and it is not writing with technology.  What I am facilitating is the development of skills for lifelong learning and success.

What an honor.

What I learned this year–growth mindset

Perhaps the biggest lesson I learned in the classroom this year was the role of the teacher in encouraging a  growth mindset.

For years, I have believed that the interpersonal relationship between a student and a teacher is key to learning.  There is a psycho-emotional aspect to teaching that is more important, in my humble opinion, than content, technology, or classroom management.  Over the years, I shared my ideas with new teachers that I have been gifted to mentor.  I told them that “loving” our students is key to getting them to learn.

As a Catholic teacher in a Catholic school, I am able to discuss that love with a particular focus–a love that is Christlike.  And my students do know that I love them, care about them, and want the very best for them.

As an AP teacher, and particularly since we have opened the AP English classes to more “stretch” students, I often have classes filled with stressed out students.  I have students who are afraid to answer a question because they might be wrong.  I have students who are blocked when writing because they are afraid what they write about may be the wrong thing or how they write may be the wrong way.  I have students who struggle to learn because they cannot tolerate the ambiguity that surfaces in English Language and Composition.

For years, I have been asking my students to “trust” me.  In the past decade, I began each year asking my students to believe that I will take care of them. I make a commitment to help them do the best they can without worrying about their grades.  I have built in many aspects to my grading that guarantees that if the student tries his/her best, really tries, the average for the class will never go below an 80.

I metaphorically ask them to fall into my arms and let me do the “worrying” about their progress.  I tell them that their physical, spiritual, and emotional needs are much more important than their academic needs.

I have been doing this for years.  And for the most part, it has worked.  But inevitably, there would be a stray lamb or two or ten who could never trust me enough to really experience learning the way I want.

I am not sure what was different this year.  Maybe this group of students listened better, but honestly I don’t think they were any different than previous students.

This year was the first year I heard about “growth mindset”. or mindset in general.

What is mindset? Dr. Carol Dweck, a renowned psychologist, has spent decades researching this,  According to the website “Mindset,” the definitions are as follows:

 “In a fixed mindset, people believe their basic qualities, like their intelligence or talent, are simply fixed traits. They spend their time documenting their intelligence or talent instead of developing them. They also believe that talent alone creates success—without effort. They’re wrong.

“In a growth mindset, people believe that their most basic abilities can be developed through dedication and hard work—brains and talent are just the starting point. This view creates a love of learning and a resilience that is essential for great accomplishment. Virtually all great people have had these qualities.” ( Click here for moreinformation.)

I read a bit about mindset on my twitter feeds, but the first time I was purposefully introduced to this was by Dr. Bernadette Janis, my instructor with the Penn Literacy Network.

Sometime around the Spring, I purposefully introduced a little of this to my AP students.

For years, I regularly offer a Keirsey Temperament Sorter to my students at the end of the first quarter, in part to demonstrate the aspect of personality so they can dive deeper into an author’s purpose and meaning, but also so they can explore how their personality–and their teacher’s–affect their learning.

apAnd I repeatedly tell my students that I wish we did not have grades; I explain that I would rather write a narrative about their progress than assign a number.  And I tell them that grade do not matter as much as learning does. And we talk about high stakes testing and their arbitrary and sometimes false categorizing.  And we talk about ways to approach such testing to make it seem less daunting.  And how to develop a tolerance for such measurement since they will likely face LSATs and MCATs and boards and such in their future years.  And we discuss strategies like eliminating obvious distractors and going with instinct and making sure the number of the question matches the number on the answer sheet.

But above all, we discuss how a number cannot define a person.

And how the learning that occurs is so much more important, valuable, and lasting than any grade could ever be.

And we discuss that they have to be okay with making mistakes, that they can’t allow themselves to freeze up because they are more concerned with correctness than learning.

But I never explained “mindset” cause I never knew that there was a name for this.

Each year, my students create a handbook for the rising AP kids.  They look forward to passing on their words of wisdom to their “little bothers and sisters.” They frequently advise to “trust Mrs. Szymborski” and that “she is like a second mom who will take care of you.”  This year, many of them wrote that “grades don’t matter.”

Or  “It’s ok to fail.”

And  “It’s not about good grades at all actually.”

And “Don’t get too nervous because GRADES DON’T MATTER. This is the one class I can say all year that I learned a lot and was not afraid to fail.”

My biggest lesson this year is that a teacher CAN teach a positive growth mindset.  It is something I was doing all along, but maybe I did it a little bit better because I taught it explicitly this Spring–even just for a few minutes.

This coming year, I will be focusing on this much sooner.  And before I give my spiel about trust, we will be talking about mindset.  There will be posters about growth mindsets, there will be articles about growth mindset.  there will be purposeful reflections about growth mindset,

Rhetoric, writing, close reading–all of these are important.  But it is a growth mindset that prepares students to learn the difficult concepts.

It’s going to be a great year.

My students are geniuses

 

There are not many days in a teacher’s life when her students are seated and working before the bell even rings.

But every Tuesday at Ryan, that is what my class is like.

In our new semester-long Digital Literacy course, we set aside Tuesdays for Genius Hour. For those who do not know what that is, Genius Hour or 20% Time is a national effort to mirror the same kind of learning t20150326-114643.jpghat is fostered by Google. There, employees are expected to spend 20% of their work time creating new programs or devising new applications. Of course, Google has everything to gain from this because whatever is created becomes a Google product. The question is, what do we as teachers have to gain?

In the classroom, Genius Hour is where students explore topics that are of high interest to them. My student Grace said that Genius Hour is the “only hour in the school day all about me.”

Essentially, they are learning about or learning how to do something that excites them–all under the direction of a teacher. Imagine what happens when students are permitted to work on the things that they choose.

My students enjoy Genius Hour. Caroline said that Genius Hour lets students “develop a deeper interest about our passions.”

And James likes Genius Hour, too. He said, “It’s given me a chance to further my skills as a wrestler. I would never have done this if it wasn’t for Genius Hour.

In my classroom, the students look forward to Tuesdays. Two days ago, the goal for the week was to continue investigating the credibility of three Internet sites about their subject. They needed to complete work that includes identifying the author, investigating the author’s credentials, determining the veracity of the information, judging the objectivity of the information, and tracing the history of updates to the site.

Sounds like fun, huh?

Well, they think it is. And trust me, although they are absolutely lovely teenagers, they are NOT nerds. Not in the least.

Students are permitted to listen to music during Genius Hour. Two days ago, however, most of them forgot their earphones. But that did not affect their engagement in the project at all.

At one point I called Rachel to come where I was standing. I told her to look at the class and tell me what she saw.

“They are all working. They are doing their assignment,” she said. She also told me she likes Genius Hour because she is “learning how to research but having fun doing it.”

I asked them, “How many of you realize that what you are doing is research?”

They didn’t stop researching long enough to answer me.

Their topics are diverse: how to play chess, how to be a better wrestler, how to become a nurse, how to play the piano, how to play the guitar, how to pair foods, how do dreams occur, how does the brain work.

Pretty interesting stuff.

After they complete the research, and after they build their own Personal Learning Community on Twitter, students will begin to explore which digital application is best suited to their purpose and their presentation. Some will write blogs, and some will create websites. Some will use prezi, and some will use Haiku Deck. Or Slides. Or educreations. Or Piktocharts.

All of them will work in Noodletools where they will create a Works Cited page and make sure that they give attribution to any words or ideas that are not theirs.

Basically, my students are engaged in a student-centered, passion-driven, project-based research presentation that requires creativity, communication, collaboration, critical thinking, curation and all or the rest of the nine C’s of Digital Citizenship that Google Certified Teacher Alice Chen lists here.

So what do teachers gain from this?

Teachers get students like Victoria, who said, “Genius Hour teaches us that we can do anything we set our mind to.”

That’s good enough for me.

Top ten things I learned in 2012

 

10.    Even when I think that kids are not really excited about being required to tweet for class, they actually do like it, value it, and look forward to it.

At different times I have felt that Twitter Tuesdays (TT) are a pain for my students. Sort of like mandated workbook activities or the old fashioned daily drill. I try to come up with interesting prompts that are content related or metacognitive in nature.  One or two have even remarked that their friends commented on how dorky their tweets are. But then, a kid here and a kid there, tell me how much they look forward to TT.  When I forget that it is Tuesday, they remind me.  Whatever the prompt is—creative, explanatory, reflective—they answer it quickly, cleanly, and honestly.

 

9. Even when it seems like the hardest thing to do is to teach my students how not to plagiarize, they really want to learn how to paraphrase and cite things accurately.

Honestly, when it is time in Writing Skills for me to handle the down and dirty parts of writing, the kind of writing that students really need to succeed in school, I get nervous.  It is boring, tedious, and unrewarding.  To me.  To them it is a life preserver in the sea of uncertainty. They do not want to cut and paste. They do not want to hand in work that is not their own.  They just do not know how to do it.  Slowly, painfully sometimes, the efforts at my school in using Noodletools—especially the notecard function—are beginning to reveal themselves.  And there are kids who I never expect that become my MLA/ Noodletools experts.  They know how to paraphrase, quote, and document.  They will be the most popular kids in college, I am sure.

 

8. Working with kids in a secure social media site like a ning does let them share their ideas and writing more freely.

Sometimes, especially with my advanced placement students, I have felt that the ning we use is sort of beneath them.  They are all facebook savvy and tumblr proficient.  What does my ning really look like to them?  Then they populate it with pictures.  And a few good prompts and voila!  A fantastic, private, safe environment to take risks in writing and risks in critiquing.  As much as I think they need to learn the idea of audience, really, they intuit who is reading so much easier than either I or they think.  They are freer with their ideas in the ning.

 

7. Providing students access to controlled social media environments and controlled social media responses that at first seem to constrain them really does help them to learn proper digital use.

And it is in the ning and on twitter that I can oversee their developing digital citizenship.  Each year, I get a little better at this.  I start off the year with the rules of digital etiquette.  And the reality of a digital footprint.  When I read what they write—and they know I will read it—then those with the idea of audience begin to develop a conscience.  They learn the difference between public and private persona, and more importantly, the lesson that those lines are constantly blurring.

 

6. Even though my students might not always seem to read my tweets, when I least expect it, they let me know that they saw the picture of the turkey vegetable tray I tweeted.

This was a great lesson for me to learn. Since I began using twitter, I have always maintained one account.  I get my best PD on twitter.  And I post some personal stuff too. Like my son graduating from Penn State.  Or at Thon.  Or the turkey tray I made out of vegetables for Thanksgiving. ( Kathleen Szymborski@kszym Happy Thanksgiving twitter friends! #arapeng #arws pic.twitter.com/fsIMOsro )

I want my students to know me as someone who is a professional and who values the conversations about teaching and literacy, but who also is a mother and a wife.  Although I do not allow students access to my facebook, I am keenly aware that at all times I am a teacher.  I do not have to be careful what I post because I am who I am.  I am a teacher.  And effortlessly, who I am flows into all outlets.  And there is nothing there to hide.  So I am a transparent teacher (which reminds me we will be moving to Emerson soon in AP so get ready to read some transparent eyeball tweets!)

 

5.  When I let go and let my students take control, they soar.  The AP kids really made an amazing wiki for One Book, One School.

Wow, talk about getting in the way. Once I let my kids take control, look what happened.

http://arimperfect.pbworks.com/w/page/61236714/Home%20Page

Enough said.

 

4.  There is no need for me to teach students how to use a program or an app.  I just have to teach them how to use it properly.

For example, many of them know how to tweet.  And use hashtags.  But not how to use hashtags to find information.  Or how to develop a PLN (personal learning network).

 

3. Kids can write on any device.

When I decided to write this entry, I moved to my laptop.  I cannot type well on my iPad or iPhone.  Sure I can write tweets or comments, but not anything longer or more complicated.  I cannot type with two hands on the kids’ netbooks.  But they can.  And they can use two hands to type on an iPad.  I still use the one finger thing.  I guess years of texting has provided them with the fine motor skills to type on anything. Or maybe they are just not as regimented as digital immigrants like me.

 

2. Thumb drives are going the way of floppy drives.

Between google drive and apps like dropbox, I am almost ready to let them save everything online.  Still thinking about that, though.  I would appreciate any feedback.

 

1. I am really teaching kids how to become life long learners.

Perhaps the best thing I learned this year is that I am showing my students two things.  As I stumble and bumble to learn the stuff I need to know to teach them better, they see me actually living what I preach—we cannot begin to imagine what we need to know for tomorrow.  And secondly, that they have to be aware that at all times their eyes must be open in wonder, ready to learn in ways no one can foresee.  Modeling for them and teaching the skills of developing personal learning networks is probably the most important lesson I can offer them.