Perseverance: How Do We Help Writers and Teachers Prepare for Rough Road?

“I’m here to gripe,” Mrs. Moyer (not her real name) snapped, tossing a stack of essays on the table and collapsing into the chair beside me. I was interviewing writing teachers on their instructional practices and what they noticed about the strengths and needs of their students as they reflected on selected writing samples.

“How can I help you?” I asked, bracing myself for whatever would come next. I hadn’t worked with this teacher long enough or often enough to understand what her needs were just yet.

“These kids can’t write,” she spat. “More importantly, they don’t want to. They are completely apathetic. All they really care about is where the next party is. They spend more time texting their friends than paying attention to me in class. Their work is atrocious, too. Not a single one of them can compose a fluent paragraph. They have no clue what the parts of speech are, let alone how to identify them properly. I’ve had it with them,” she admitted.

And I waited a moment before I began any further inquiry.

“Can you explain the topic of the assignment?” I asked.

“It was a critical lens essay. They know how to write them. Or at least they should by now. We’ve been hammering this into them for four years!”

“And how did you define what you wanted them to do?” I wondered.

“I gave them directions. Not that they followed them.”

I asked what kind of models she provided. There were none.

“And did you demonstrate what you wanted them to do or write beside them at all?”

Her eyes rolled dramatically, and then they narrowed. “What on earth does that mean? If you mean did I spoon-feed them the process, then the answer is no. They should know how to do this by now.”

I agreed. Eleventh graders should know how to write a critical lens essay. They didn’t, though. At least, they weren’t able to demonstrate this. And it was clear that their teacher was too upset to consider why or how she might be able to help them better.

“Have you ever been invited to talk with your colleagues about these problems so that you could brainstorm solutions?” I asked.

“We don’t have any common time together,” she replied.

“What about seeking help in other ways?” I offered. “Have you ever received support as a teacher of writing?” She looked at me like I had grown seven heads.

This exchange continues to haunt me, many years later.  I wonder: do seemingly burned-out teachers refuse to use effective practices, or does a teacher’s struggle to adopt effective practices without adequate support and feedback lead to burn out? Similar frustrations are often revealed when we talk with young writers about their work. “I don’t know how to do this,” they will tell us. “I don’t want to do it,” they’ll admit. “I don’t even know what you mean,” some will seethe, moments before declaring their work “garbage” and trash-canning it.

In my experience, the following tools, processes, and interventions have enabled writers to persevere, often against significant odds. As I write this, I realize that teachers tend to persevere when they are provided similar supports.

This week, I’ll be revisiting the best of what we’ve learned at Studio relevant to perseverance. I’ll be sharing some new strategies, perspectives, and bits of inspiration too. I think this is a perfect topic for the new year, and I’m looking forward to exploring it more in our sessions with writers this month!

Some Big News for Our New Year

This year, we will begin the fifth season of the WNY Young Writers’ Studio. I can’t tell you how much this means to me and how grateful I am to the teachers, parents, mentors, and writers who have given so much of their time and their talent in order to help us do this thing we do together.

We have so much to celebrate!

  • Over the last four years, we’ve grown substantially in numbers
  • We’ve found a new home for our Erie County writers at Union East Elementary School in Cheektowaga
  • We’ve opened our doors at the Kenan Center in Niagara County as well
  • We’ve established a mentorship program for middle and high school writers who are interested in becoming teachers
  • We’ve begun creating internship opportunities for those interested in using their other talents to contribute to what we do in some way
  • We’ve integrated technology with purpose
  • Teachers have begun writing themselves and pursuing a variety of action research projects
  • We’ve started sharing all that we are learning with others by blogging, presenting at conferences, starting conversations in our schools, and leading mini-sessions at our writing celebration each spring
  • We’ve published several annual anthologies
  • We’ve established virtual spaces that allow us to connect anytime we want to
  • We’ve made space within our program for all who are interested in joining us, including those with significant financial needs
  • We’ve problem-solved and persevered and found a way to overcome some significant hurdles in terms of time and space
  • We’ve found ways to engage one another in collaborative planning and decision-making
  • Sheri Barsottelli and I will be launching the first site-based Studio at Depew Middle and High School this spring. We’re excited to begin helping young writers become mentors to one another there and starting an action research project of our own.
  • Most importantly, we’ve seen many of the writers and teachers we began working with during our first season return year after year after year!

And there is so much more that we are looking forward to accomplishing in this new year.

Those who have been a part of Studio for some time know that it has never been a for-profit venture. Our fees have ensured that we can cover operating costs, and this is what we’ve managed to accomplish. Many children, parents, and teachers in our program have volunteered their time and talent in dozens of ways that ensured our success. This is how we’ve grown. Studio is what it is because of the incredible people who believe in what we’re trying to do here and who provide us their loving and ongoing support.

Over the years, we’ve worked hard to lower our operating costs significantly. We’ve located more affordable spaces that can support our need for certain technologies, we’ve researched and invested in the unique insurance coverage that we’ve needed, and we’ve built a reputation that has enabled us to scale back our advertising costs significantly.

 Our lowered costs have brought us to a place where we are able to pursue a critical component of our mission with far greater intention. Four years ago, one of my ultimate goals as the founder of the WNY Young Writers’ Studio was to create a place where all who were serious about growing as writers and teachers could find a home, regardless of their personal financial needs. This year, I’m proud to unveil a significant opportunity for all current and future Studio fellows: the shift to a give what you can fee structure.

As you plan to register for our upcoming season, know that if you are able to pay our annual fee of $180.00, we ask that you consider doing so. But if your family is unable to do this, simply consider how you might contribute your time or talent to our community in other ways. We’re most inspired by the children and adults who have thought carefully about what they are good at it and seriously about what they love to do. It has been incredible to watch them give of themselves in that have made Studio an amazing place to be.

So, what can you give? If it’s money, we’ll still take it. We have bills to pay certainly, and we always will. We know that this isn’t possible for everyone though. If you can’t pay the full amount, we will gratefully accept a donation of any kind. If you can’t pay it all, please don’t let this stop you from sending your child to Studio. Increase your involvement. Give what you can of your time and talent. We know that it will be more than enough.

In the coming months, we’ll be sharing more details about the give what you can campaign and information about registration for our new season. For now, let me wish you and your family much love and laughter and joy in 2012.

I’m looking forward to seeing you at Studio!

Seeking Understanding: When Writers Use Evidence to Guide Their Work

Data are information. We rely on data throughout every day of our lives. They guide even the simplest decisions we make. I find that sometimes, misperceptions about what data are and how we might use them best prevent us from understanding ourselves, our world, and those we serve to our fullest potential. The power of data lies not in what numbers tell us but in the questions that emerge from studying evidence. What kind of data do writers of all ages and experience levels collect? Consider these examples:

  • Elementary writers Elizabeth Luick and Michaela Fuchs use a rubric to reflect on their development of writer’s craft, taking note of those elements of writing that they are struggling with. This enables them to research new strategies that might help them enhance their work.
  • Middle school writer Laura Stockman is excited about starting a photography blog. Uncertain about what she might include in this blog, she begins exploring similar ones online, capturing what they have in common and taking note of qualities that are confusing or less purposeful. She uses this information to shape her own blog design. Then, she shares her first attempts at blogging with a wider audience on the web and asks that they share ideas for how she might improve.
  • Third grade writer William Barsottelli devotes himself to daily journaling practice and tracks his daily progress on a calendar. This enables him to pinpoint when it is easier to fit in writing practice and when it is more difficult. When he compares the content of his journal entries to stalls in his practice, he realizes that it isn’t just his busy social calendar that trips him up. It’s the fact that he runs out of ideas as well. He decides to begin researching prompts that might be more interesting.
  • High school student Read Maisano decides to write a children’s book. Before she begins drafting, she interviews local young readers to survey their interests. She allows this to guide her decision-making. When a teacher in the program encourages her to tap into a more global population, she considers how she might use the web to accomplish this.
  • Before elementary level writers begin writing stories of their own, they explore a variety of published examples together. Using sticky notes, they capture their responses to the following prompt on paper and attach them to the mentor texts that they are studying: Before this writer began writing, what did he or she need to understand first?
  • As Tish Albro drafts a novel, she stops at varied points to share her work with different peers, teachers, and family members. Eager to receive feedback on the development of plot, she asks that they use specific criteria and references to her writing to demonstrate strengths and points of potential revision.  After each reviewer composes and submits their feedback to her, she determines trends in the responses. She realizes that if multiple people have provided reinforcement around a particular portion of her text, she may not need to revise it. She makes changes to those parts of the text that multiple people have provided cool feedback around.

When Young Writers Seek Understanding

Recent posts have focused on the Dispositions of Practice, the role the play in our writing community, and the influence of courage, specifically.

Writers who are courageous will often write about important topics that may make others feel uncomfortable. Sometimes, their work will require them to grapple with powerful and conflicting emotions. They will find themselves eager to take a stance, become more transparent about what they think and feel, or reveal their beliefs about something. Courageous writers aren’t afraid to appear unknowledgeable. They try new forms of writing, and they share their works in progress. They also seek out those who are different from them in simple yet fundamental ways. They aren’t as threatened by this as less courageous writers might be, or if they are, they are willing to tolerate those feelings in order to learn more.

Eliza helped us realize that when courage is absent, the topics that writers devote themselves to are not necessarily meaningful. They don’t feel particularly passionate about their work, and those who read it won’t find themselves moved in any way either. Those who lack courage may hide their thoughts, feelings, and opinions from others. They may be defensive or resistant, particularly when they are invited to work with those who are very different from them or to attempt writing genres or forms that they are unfamiliar with.

One of the important goals of our community is to help one another become more courageous over time, so that we might produce increasingly courageous writing. We’ve found that this is often enabled with the help of another Disposition, our Commitment to Understanding.

Studio writers Matt Nichy and Tish Albro have exemplified this Disposition well in recent years.

“I love the Eragon series,” Matt told me, several summers ago. “The fourth book isn’t going to be out for a while, and I’m thinking that maybe I’d like to try to write it myself,” he smiled.

I admired this. What I admired even more was his willingness to revisit Christopher Paolini’s first three books as a researcher, interested in his development of writer’s craft. Matt knew that studying an author’s work in this way could help him understand more about how to write well.

High school writer Tish Albro was eager to write a story about the seven deadly sins at work inside of a local high school. Realizing her background knowledge was deficient, Tish spent a significant amount of time reading Dante’s Inferno, discussing the text with a family member who had also read it, and researching online. When she was finished, she wrote an article about her efforts to seek understanding in this way, and as a result, various other Studio writers began approaching Tish for support and direction in doing the same.

Often, new writers will begin by mimicking the work of their favorite authors. Sometimes, teachers become frustrated by this. In fact, some of the published writers that I respect discourage beginning writers from doing this. As a teacher, I tend to think that such practice is an indication of growth, though. It reveals that writers are seeking understanding and beginning to play with new forms. We all tend to copy our models until we’ve developed enough understanding and experience to fly solo. We accept ownership of our writing in gradual ways. Writing like others demonstrates that this is beginning to happen.

University of Maryland professor and literacy specialist John O’Flahavan advocates for instructional practices that engage writers in the consumption of forms that they intend to produce. This makes sense. If we want to do anything well, we need to understand what it really is and how to do it first. This pursuit is driven by quality questions. Matt didn’t assume that he could write the fourth installment of his favorite novel series well, simply because he was an avid reader of those texts. He wondered what Christopher Paolini did as a writer that helped him create something that so many others were eager to read. He chased after his questions. The answers inspired new ones.

Seeking understanding prevents us from rushing to judgment as well, providing us greater opportunities to learn, experiment, deepen our knowledge, and sharpen our skills. Valuable understandings are based on specific evidence. It’s not enough to have personal opinions about what quality looks like when it comes to writing or instructional practices. If our work is to be meaningful to anyone other than ourselves, it must be informed by evidence that suggests it is useful to them.

In these instances, data become our friend.

Shaping a Rubric to Guide Courageous Writers Who Take Initiative

When we speak of the Dispositions, we try to do so with criteria that help to reinforce what they mean and what growth around them can look like. It is the same when we speak of writer’s craft or the process of writing. These criteria come from the fellows within our community, who are constantly engaged in the exploration of what it means to be a writer and what quality writing looks like. Our perspectives are informed by research and refined by the collective experiences of everyone within our community, regardless of how old they are or what their title might be.

Rubrics are not something we impose on students for a grade. In fact, Studio writers don’t earn grades, and this allows us the freedom to use rubrics as they were intended. They are a reflection of the conversations that we have with one another about quality. They articulate what that means to us, during a specific moment in time, and often, in relation to a particular task or challenge. Most importantly, they enable self-assessment and allow all of us to provide one another with quality feedback. Rubrics remind us of what we value, they articulate targets that help us set and achieve our goals, and they provide us with words that allow us to coach and guide one another in very productive ways.

I was first exposed to the rubrics for the Dispositions of Practice as a learner affiliated with Communities for Learning: Leading Lasting Change. We’ve repurposed them for use with writers in the WNY Young Writers’ Studio, and we ask writers to engage with them in a variety of contexts for different purposes. For instance, while the rubric that follows may not be particularly child-friendly, it can help teachers and parents begin to consider the relationship between courage and powerful learning, behavior, and work. It provides specificity about what quality looks like and how we might notice growth. It can also guide our feedback and recommendations.

Children can be asked to explore these connections in ways that are more accessible and engaging. They should contribute to the design of rubrics that are meaningful to them.

Shaping a Rubric to Guide Courageous Writers Who Take Initiative

Use the rubric below to inform your study of courage and how it is evidenced within your practice, your classroom, or the community that you lead. Compare it to the portraits of courageous writing and work that I shared yesterday or those you may have identified on your own in the past. Write about the ways in which they compare, and then, assess their differences. How might you change the rubric below? How might you change the one taking shape in your own mind?

Writers Strive to be Courageous

  • They are willing to discuss things that make them uncomfortable in appropriate ways.
  • They are willing to feel the discomfort that comes with needing to change, learn, and grow.
  • They seek out new responsibilities and challenges.
  • They don’t give up when the writing process becomes hard.
Writers who strive to be courageous show this through their….

Beginning

Developing

Deepening

Embodying

Learning

Is reluctant to share beliefs, concerns, questions, or work. Shares beliefs, concerns, questions, or work only when required to or when others have done so firstParticipates in planned discussions and conversations only by agreeing or disagreeing Shares and acts on beliefs and values and shares concerns, questions, and work openlyParticipates in conversations and is willing to ask questions that reveal a lack of understanding Shares values, beliefs, and assumptions in order to provoke debateAsks questions to reveal own limitations and help others do the same.

 

Is willing to appropriately raise issues that may make others uncomfortable

Behavior

Avoids people who appear to be unlike him/her or from activities that might challenge perceptions and assumptions 

Avoids sharing own work or makes apologies for work

 

Looks to the teacher for all assignments, answers, and processes

Listens to those who appear to be unlike him/her and attends activities that may challenge perceptions and assumptions, but does not take part in conversation or workShares work only after others have

 

Seeks guidance from the teacher in order to please him/her and “write right”

Participates in conversations and activities that challenge beliefs, values, ideas, and work 

Shares completed and unfinished work when asked

Relies on growing expertise to guide decisions as a writer and resolve the problems that arise

Chooses to share beliefs, values, ideas, and work with those who appear to be unlike him/her in order to learn and grow as a writerShares work and ideas  at all stages of development

 

Continues to grow as a writer and to support others in their growth even if doing so creates conflict

Work

Writes in ways that are expected, in order to get a good grade. Attempts new processes and types of writing because it is expected. Writes in ways that inspire others think deeply about what good writing is or what good writers do Seeks new challenges and roles in order to remain energized and to inspire new ideas