This week, I worked as the Writer-in-Residence at the Paramus Summer Institute for the Teaching of Writing. For anyone who may be interested, Ive posted my keynote address: Over these past four days, you’ve gotten a wealth of knowledge and inspiration from the wonderful professional development staff and keynote speakers here at the Institute. To culminate, I wanted to highlight some of my favorite teaching strategies for you, but as I was trying to write my speech last week, my daughter, Hanna, had the Disney movie, Frozen, playing in the background…again. She was singing at the top of her lungs, and I found myself singing along too. (I promise, I will not sing to you today. That would not be pretty.) Well, I really couldn’t concentrate at my computer, so I figured, why fight it? So I present to you…my top 10 strategies for implementing writing workshop from the movie Frozen: #10: Be persistent. In the movie, we see Anna repeatedly knocking at her sister’s door with the same question over and over. “Do you want to build a snowman?” This reminds me of one of the things I love about writing workshop. Even though each genre requires unique teaching points, we reinforce some of the same key strategies over and over in every unit. However, when skills are taught in isolation, students quickly figure out that what they learn today can be forgotten because tomorrow we’re moving on to something else. But in writing workshop, each time we collect, and develop, and draft, and revise, and edit, our students will know what to expect when they hear that familiar knock at the door. #9: Keep the magic of writing alive. Just like Elsa, writers, too, have magical powers at their fingertips. Writing is transformative. It has the power to freeze your soul or melt your heart. When our students write for authentic purposes, they take pride and ownership in their writing. It may be a challenge to do this when a standardized test prompt ties one hand behind our back, but for as long as we can, we need to keep the magic of writing alive for our students by letting them choose their own topics and take personal ownership of what they create. #8: Listen for the “me too” moment. When I first saw the scene where Anna and Hans find out they have so much in common, I thought, oh my gosh, this is beyond cheesy, but it reminded me of a really simple yet powerful strategy I’ve used in my classroom. I call it the “me too moment.” I found that when students are collecting ideas for writing, there is sometimes that uncomfortable moment of writer’s block. That awful feeling of the blank page staring up at you, while the kid next to you has already half a page filled. That’s when I might do a mid-workshop interruption. I’d say, turn to someone nearby, share a few of the ideas for writing you’ve collected, and listen for that “me too moment” to help you get more ideas for your list. So one kid might say, “One of my topics is about the time I went to camp. It was beautiful there. I saw birds, and fish, and deer…” And then the kid with nothing on his page might say, “I saw a deer once…when we were driving. Dad hit it with the car and the antlers went right through our windshield!” Now, that wasn’t exactly the same experience, but sharing with a partner helps students find their own ideas for writing. #7: Keep collecting. Disney finally redeemed themselves when Elsa told Anna, “You can’t marry a man you just met.” Just like Elsa’s advice to her sister, I’ve always told my students during the collecting stage of workshop, “Don’t fall in love with and marry your first idea for writing.” My students used to do this all the time. But when I asked them to push themselves, to collect a few more ideas before committing to one, they often surprised themselves. They never would have gotten such great topics for writing if they married the first man (I mean one) that came along. #6: Let it go. This is not only a major theme song in the movie, but also a good philosophy to have when implementing writing workshop in your classroom. Many of us are hesitant to share our own writing with our students because we think it’s not good enough, or too personal, or we just don’t make the time for it, but we must be fearless writers ourselves if we ask our students to be fearless writers. So just “let it go” and write in front of your students. On the spot. Every step of the way. Show them that it’s okay to be vulnerable. It’s okay to take risks. To make mistakes. To struggle. Because this is where beautiful, powerful writing begins. #5: Keep your cool. You’ve got to love how Olaf casually observes, “Oh, look at that. I’ve been impaled.” When you hit a roadblock, or your workshop derails, or a minilesson bombs, and they will from time to time, don’t freak out. Keep your cool. You’re not alone. We need to seek out those who can support and encourage us. Hopefully you’ve made some new connections this week. Keep in touch. Let us know how it’s going for you. And trust me, it will get better. #4: It’s easier to fix the head than the heart. When Anna is a little girl, she is accidentally struck in the head by a blast of ice. Her parents take her to the rock trolls to heal her. But later when she is struck in the heart, only an act of true love can save her. As writing teachers, we too have to remember that it’s easier to fix the head than the heart. Especially when conferencing, it’s so tempting to want to correct all the mistakes we see glaring up at us from our students’ work, but that approach will leave us with discouraged writers who don’t take creative risks; who only write what they think WE want to hear. So start with a compliment. Then, instead of pointing out what they still NEED to learn, tell them they are READY to learn something new. And when it’s time to try it on their own, send them off with encouragement. That way, you’ll have students who write from both the head AND the heart. #3: Look out for the major plot twists. When Kristoff finally realizes Anna is in real trouble, he thinks he’s the one who is supposed to save her. Look at that determination! How he’s plowing ahead across the ice at full speed! Teachers, we have to admit, sometime’s this is what we look like trying to get though a writing unit. We have every minilesson strategically planned out, and we’re going to finish this unit by next Friday no matter what. Well, like in the movie, what we plan for might not be what is actually needed. (I won’t spoil it for the one person here who hasn’t seen the movie yet.) Our students’ needs must determine our lessons. We may need to spend less time than anticipated on one strategy and more time on another. Now, I’m not saying we shouldn’t write lesson plans, but just to be on the lookout for those major plot twists. #2: Whatever you do, do it with passion. Sometimes as teachers, we have unrealistic expectations of what writing workshop will be like in our classroom, like a snowman who dreams about a glorious summer. I remember when I attended my first Writing Institute at TC, I was so excited about all the new strategies I learned, I actually called my principal on my lunch break and told her how awesome it was. (I was so embarrassed afterward. I was like, did I really just do that?) Anyway, over the summer, I went back to my classroom, made a zillion copies of all the incredible mentor texts, rearranged all the desks, bought a rug for the minilesson area; I even handmade pillows for the kids to lean on. (I know. I was a little too excited.) But when the kids showed up in September, I was nervous. I was sweating. Those instructors at the institute made it look so easy. This was hard! But I was able to get through it by changing my mindset. Even though I had been teaching Language Arts for eight years at the time, I decided to view myself like a first year teacher. After all, workshop was entirely new to me. A first year teacher is not expected to have all the answers. A first year teacher learns as she goes. But at the same time, the passion and enthusiasm of a first year teacher kind of makes up for all that. I’ll never forget the Back-To-School night the year I first launched writing workshop. I had a meager seven minutes to tell the parents how exciting our workshop is. I spoke of minilessons and mentor texts; collecting and conferences; personal narratives and publishing celebrations. I talked about how the students are living like writers; generating their own topics based on their memories, interests, concerns, and opinions, and because of that, they develop a motivated investment in the piece which promotes ownership and pride. I invited all the parents back to our classroom for “Mrs. Solej’s Poetry Café” where we will be serving invisible lattes and real cookies as we snap our fingers for the student poets who sit on a three legged stool in the spot light, bearing their souls. And then my seven minutes were up. But there was so much more I wanted to tell them! As the parents were leaving my classroom to go to their next class on the schedule, one of the fathers put his hand on my shoulder and said, “I love your passion.” At first, I thought, “That’s creepy,” but then I realized he was talking about my passion for teaching writing workshop. That just summed it all up. Before workshop, I couldn’t get passion from a grammar textbook. I couldn’t get passion from a vocabulary worksheet. I couldn’t get passion from a standardized test prompt. Passion is the secret ingredient that was missing from my students’ writing for so long. But the great thing about passion for writing is that it’s contagious. Which leads us to my favorite part of writing workshop: #1: Celebrate writing! Always throw a grand celebration at the end! Just like we’re doing here today! Our lives are worth writing about. Celebrate your students progress; their potential; their bravery. Thank you.
Posted on: Thu, 24 Jul 2014 23:18:05 +0000