Literacy Now

In recent years, educational software developers have offered the adaptive method as an innovation in language learning, but the concept of internal differentiation emerged decades ago. This response to the behaviorist approach considered that all students learn in the same way, but the development of new theories has changed this idea.

In the case of English as a foreign language, the assumption that students have different learning characteristics was influenced by the nativist, cognitivist, and interactionist theories.

From the nativist perspective, language learning is a biological mechanism regulated by the language acquisition device that processes input in the foreign language. Cognitivism, in turn, considers that learners act, construct, plan, and analyze their learning on the basis of internal and mental processes. The interactionist theory assumes the learners’ heterogeneity, meaning that mediated interaction among individuals with different knowledge levels, is the key to an efficient learning process.

All of these theories (and more) have guided the development of new methods and teaching practices, but using the same method with different learners within a group counteracts the importance of heterogeneity.

Despite the effort of language courses and schools to create an environment that uses methods to respect differences, choices made exclusively by schools become contradictory. Not only surrounding cognitive aspects but also cultural, social, and ethnographic elements that have singularized the way people behave which, in turn, affects how they learn a foreign language.

Furthermore, the massive use of Internet tools and other technological devices in the classroom also demands the development of different literacies and the consideration of the constant differentiation during the learning process.

The use of technology emerges as an efficient way to account positively for the differences among learners to promote self-identification, autonomy, and motivation. Therefore, technological devices and the Internet can be useful in developing individual courses for singularized individuals who are in constant transformation. But it needs to be authentic. The application of some social and ethnographic data to the same foreign language course (with modifications), the difference in progress, or the possibility of teachers determining, through technology, what and how students learn cannot be called truly adaptive. Adaptive learning must take into account all differences to create different courses with varied methods and content according to the needs of each student. Not only this, but it is necessary also to consider we are all individuals in constant development. An adaptive course must be modified according to student development during the entire process.

It is complex but possible and promising. Adaptive learning will help create new learning environments (online or face-to-face) where learner differences are not only respected but an underlying concept in the foreign language learning and teaching processes.

Erica C. M. Coutrim is a PhD student in Languages and Education at the University of São Paulo, Brazil. Gustavo Fuga dos Reis is an honoree on ILA’s 2016 30 Under 30 list. He is the CEO and founder of 4YOU2, a self-sustaining social entrepreneurship-focused venture that has served more than 5,000 language learners in Brazil.

Reading in the same ways day after day can become a habit. Habits are not choices, and by nature we tend to lack awareness of what we are doing when we are involved in them. As a result, we become stagnant and often unaware of the other choices and possibilities that exist. If I always tie my shoes in the same way, I no longer even think about it and I forget there are other ways. If I always read a book in the same way, I miss other dimensions and may end up skimming the surface. As more and more focus is placed on reading with rigor we can think about what rigor really means. It is likely not reading by habit and instead involves reading deeply with choices in mind.

The habit loop

The best-selling, influential book The Power of Habit: Why We Do What We Do in Life and Business, by Charles Duhigg (2014) brought attention to habits and began to clarify the difference between habits and choices. Duhigg explains the habit loop, which consists of a three-step process. First, there is a cue or trigger. When the cue happens, our brains begin to identify the routine we should follow on the basis of previous experiences. The loop ends when there is a reward. After a while of following this loop, our routines become automatic and we no longer have awareness of what we are doing and it no longer feels like a choice. Duhigg explains:

When a habit emerges, the brain stops fully participating in the decision-making. It stops working so hard, or diverts attention to other tasks. So unless you deliberately fight a habit—unless you find new routines—the habit will unfold automatically.

When we read by habit, our brains are not working very hard and we might not be making decisions that help us more deeply understand our books.

Consider Tim, a third grader, who reads in the same way every day, no matter what the text. He reads and follows the character’s actions, not noticing the character’s motivations, emotions, or relationships. As he reads, Tim asks himself the question, “What did the character do?” over and over. It was not until Tim began talking to his reading partner, Michele, about her books that he realized there were other elements to pay attention to—he was stuck in a habit loop. Michele is a reader who tends to think about why the characters are making the choices they do. She tends to ask herself the questions, “Why did she do that?” and “What is motivating her now?” As Michele and Tim had conversations, they began to realize there were multiple ways to read a book and they had choices concerning what they wanted to think about. They might not have consciously chosen their reading habits, but they still had them.

To help students become aware of their reading habits you might do the following:

• Model how you, the teacher, reflect on the habits you tend to follow as a reader.
• Create a class habit chart and invite students to share their habits so they can begin to change them.
• Offer students a few minutes before independent reading time to jot down a plan for what they are going to think about as they read. Students can look back at their plans and see patterns they might want to change.
• Pair up students to discuss how their reading habits might be not only helping them as readers but also limiting their thinking too.

Turning a habit into a choice

“Once you can break a habit into its components, you can fiddle with the gears,” Duhigg said. Perhaps we always sit in the same seat at lunch. Maybe we always tie the left shoe before our right one. The small repetitive acts add up to living a lot of our lives without awareness, on “autopilot.” The clearest example for me is driving home after a long day. It is scary to arrive home and realize I was not paying attention at all, that my mind was on autopilot, and I somehow made it home and don’t remember the drive. Best-selling author Don Miguel Ruiz teaches something called “non-doing.” Non-doing is when you consciously choose to break the pattern you always do. That could mean tying the right shoe first or sitting in a different seat at lunch. When we practice non-doing, we are giving ourselves new perspectives and bringing awareness back into our lives. From awareness we can make choices. As a reader this might mean choosing to focus more on the characters’ motivation rather than reading by habit and paying attention only to the plot. Readers can choose their own “non-doing” strategy.

To help students change a habit into a choice you might do the following:

• Connect the strategies you teach to when a reader would choose them. This helps readers view strategies as choices.
• Give students a few minutes at the end of independent reading time to reflect with a partner about what habit they broke and how it had an impact on their thinking.
• Read aloud and discuss books showing a character that broke a habit. A few of my favorites are The Incredible Book Eating Boy, by Oliver Jeffers, The Old Woman Who Named Things, by Cynthia Rylant, and Naked Mole Rats Get Dressed, by Mo Willems.
• Use a visual to show the habit loop and explain it to students. Let them know that the way to change a habit is to replace the old routine with a new one.

Remember that sharing our habits is not about judging them or beating ourselves up for having them. We all have habits, and they all help us in some way. The key is to realize when we are stuck in a reading habit and turn it back into a choice.

Gravity Goldberg is author of Mindsets and Moves: Strategies that Help Readers Take Charge(Corwin 2016) and coauthor of Conferring with Readers(Heinemann, 2007). She leads a team of literacy consultants in the NY/NJ area and presents to teachers across the United States. At the heart of Gravity's teaching is the belief that everyone deserves to be admired and supported. She can be reached viae-mailand onTwitter.

As teachers, we work alongside students, witnessing their thinking and learning process. We see students as writers, readers, listeners, speakers, and viewers.

However, in many “data-driven” schools, the “data” dominating meetings and students’ narratives do not have student or teacher voice but mostly reflect standardized, multiple choice tests.

Data analysis companies are thriving while schools purchase subscriptions for access to online software to analyze state and local standardized test scores. The information from the analysis—spreadsheets cross-referencing students with standards, demographics, teachers, other students—is not bad, especially because it provides teachers with multilevel reports.

In Texas, lead4ward (including staar4ward) is cited in nearly 700 school budgets as part of schools’ improvement plans, professional development plans, and district improvement plans, sometimes allocating hundreds of thousands of dollars to one company.

This phenomenon is not limited to Texas. Schools across the United States are using “data-driven” to communicate sound decision making to stakeholders. However, two major stakeholders are being left out: students and teachers.

Data help us make informed decisions, but we must be aware of what the data assess, what we are valuing, and what the data’s limitations are.

Some leading education websites and books romanticize the idea that “data” help educators “determine essential standards” students will be retaught and retested for mastery. This means standardized tests determine what is taught and standards with low passing rates are taught more. Sometimes “data” also determine what standards and vocabulary are not taught because they are not tested.

Some schools systematically allocate “standards” to grade levels, omitting them from others. Standards are sometimes segregated when schools “determined essential standards” to teach students of low-performing demographics to help “guarantee” higher scores and show growth on the federal Annual Yearly Progress report. In some “data-driven schools,” standards are no longer a promise to every student but conditional to standardized test data.

Standardized tests do not tell us why students do not understand something or how to help them. Yet some schools created local “high-quality interim assessments” to address the why and how. This approach validates more testing but continues to focus on test performance versus students’ actual thinking process.

As educators, we can determine why students are struggling. During guided reading, we have the ability to determine what influenced students’ cues. Did the meaning, syntax, or visuals have an impact on the child’s reading? We can even dig deeper by noting the actual elements of the text the student used for each cue and the patterns in which students used them. A teacher can witness a student make a mistake and then determine the cause, not just determine the standard.

When working in a small group with students or one-on-one, we have the opportunity to acquire qualitative data that reflect where understanding broke down. Sometimes we realize that a student is nothing like the standardized test data, whereas other times we see that the data were a small glimpse of a student’s true mastery of a standards.

Without looking for root causes, we are missing essential teaching opportunities. As a student who was labeled an English learner, I valued every time a teacher recognized that I knew something and recognized that my mistake was oversight or error. Let’s not miss opportunities to validate students.

Additionally, the data-driven phenomenon is often accompanied by interpreting standards solely within testing rigor, limiting the depth of concepts and standards to how they appear on tests. In Texas, some schools teach only first- or third-person point of view and not as perspective in order to “stay true” to the Texas standards.

Even the formatting of material, with student materials looking exactly like the test, robs students of the opportunity to learn 21st-century computer literacy skills. We cannot rob students of learning about formatting and leveraging material for varying audiences out of fear students will “be so shocked” by the test looking different from daily work that they will perform badly. Students need authentic texts in authentic formats.

Let’s add students and teachers back into data-driven schools by recognizing the limitations of standardized test data and empowering teachers to determine root cause of students’ struggle(s) in order to provide sound intervention. Let’s teach students more systematically versus teaching the test more systematically. We can know all students as writers, readers, listeners, speakers, and viewers.

Ilce Perot is currently an international literacy consultant and English learner specialist for LitLife, Inc. Ilce has traveled the United States and internationally supporting teachers of students across a range of settings including bilingual, ESL/ENL/ELL, Spanish education, and dual language programs. Ilce is currently pursuing her doctorate degree in education.

With 24 years of teaching under my belt, I’ve apologized more than my fair share—to colleagues, to administrators, and to parents.

But in those 24 years, I probably have apologized to my students the most.

Teaching can make one humble very quickly. Some teachers may think they have all the answers, but good teachers know they don’t.

As a high school English teacher, I learned that to work as an authentic classroom community, I needed to take responsibility when the lesson didn’t go well and show my students that I was willing to try again, even if they weren’t.

It usually went something like this: I had a great idea for a lesson and created a plan that I thought was foolproof. As I look back to those early days of my career, I realize the lessons that didn’t go well were the ones that were poorly planned and tended to rely more on an activity I had briefly read about or on a three-minute video clip I had seen. But the activity seemed engaging and fun and my students would love it!

Of course, I was sure I would get the same result that the author flaunted or the same result displayed in the video: students hunched over their desks, working with peers with such ferocity that lunchtime couldn’t wedge them out of their chairs, followed by a discussion that would be one for the ages, with students eager to raise their hand to share wisdom beyond their years. Yes, I knew exactly what this activity would look like in my classroom, and I was eager to share it with students.

As an example, during Shakespeare’s The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet, I decided to assign students Act I, scene IV to read at home. We had read the prior acts as a large group. I was confident that with the necessary scaffolding and background information I had given to them about Queen Mab, they could read it, interpret it, and come back the next day with incredibly insightful notes. I anticipated a discussion with perceptive analysis and keen awareness. I was ready to be mesmerized!

They weren’t. Most students came back with what looked to be poorly copied SparkNotes. Some read the scene and gave me a three- to four-sentence “overview” (Internet based, I’m sure), and others didn’t bother to read at all.

Then it hit me: The reason the lesson failed and the reason I owed students an apology was because I didn’t set a purpose for reading. I didn’t explain why the reading was important.

I didn’t blame my students. My desire to send them on their way to see what they could do “on their own” was poorly thought through. The discussion I had hoped for became a brief lecture by me of the four most important “takeaways” from the scene.

And so, I apologized. First, I apologized for not thoroughly explaining Mercutio’s chaotic personality and why the scene exemplified his personality. Second, I apologized for failing to highlight the value of the dream sequence and how that haunted Romeo later. Finally, I apologized for basically throwing them into the deep end without a net.

I had given students the background knowledge they needed for the scene. But I didn’t tell them to offer evidence of Mercutio’s chaotic personality. I didn’t ask them how those examples of evidence demonstrated his personality. I had told them briefly about Queen Mab but didn’t ask students to explain the dream sequence or ask them to predict how Romeo’s dream haunted him later in the play. I didn’t bother telling the students what I wanted them to look for in their reading. I gave them what could be considered arguably the most difficult scene in Act I and threw them in, feet first without a life jacket. No wonder some of them struggled to stay afloat.

That was 24 years ago. Now that I’m an instructional coach/reading specialist at a large, urban high school, I use “why” questions when I work with teachers on gathering resources, lesson planning, and assessment: Why are we using those resources, and what are we hoping students gain from them? Why are we using that standard to represent that skill? What do we want to assess, and why should students know that information?

Yes, I’ve apologized many times to students throughout my 24-year career in the classroom. Although apologizing has never been easy, I always knew it was the right thing to do. Looking back, I wouldn’t have done it any other way and I know my students feel the same way.

Peg Grafwallner is an instructional coach with Milwaukee Public Schools. Learn more about Peg on her website.

At our first department leader meeting this fall, I asked each person to share a one-word goal for the year. There were 14 people in the room, and three listed survival as their word. Their goal was to survive. One other said persevere and still another’s goal was serenity. Almost a third were thinking about their emotional needs and steeling themselves for what would come next. No one in the room was surprised; in fact several others said they had considered using the same word—survive—but weren’t brave enough to admit it to the group. There was a bit of nervous laughter, and we moved on to business. Teaching is a tough job, and getting tougher.

Inspired by these teaching warriors and Shanna Peeples’ article in October’s Literacy Today, I starting asking teachers for their stories. What happened that influenced your day? What made you smile? What made you change direction?

Hearing stories from the trenches helps us realize we’re not alone. Better yet, our students (and colleagues) might provide us with cause to laugh. I consider humor cheap therapy.

Let me provide you with some cheap therapy.

I was working alongside a dedicated, energetic secondary teacher. On this particular day we asked students to practice reading authentic online text and respond to what they had read. Engagement was high, keyboards were clicking purposefully, and we were feeling the rush of professional success and mentally high-fiving each other.

One young lady who had been typically distracted and disengaged broke away from her response writing and motioned for my attention.

“Hey, Reading Lady. Do I capitalize the ‘h’ in Hispanic right here?”

I smiled, proud of her question. She was making such progress! “Yes, of course.”

As I walked away, I heard her mutter to herself. “Duh. Of course I should. Hispanic is a pretty big religion!”

End scene.

A short time ago I was watching a phenomenal teacher perform a close reading lesson. She had the kids near her in a semicircle, each with a notebook and pencil. A few minutes into the lesson a young man popped up and headed to the pencil sharpener. He started sharpening…and sharpening and sharpening and sharpening and sharpening and sharpening—with occasional peeks to see if the lead was sharp enough yet.

The teacher motioned for him to have a seat. Reluctantly and dramatically he dragged his feet back to his space.

A moment later he popped up again, even more enthusiastically, and dashed to his chair. He dug through his backpack, tossing everything and leaving items strewn all over the floor, chair, and desk. Triumphantly he held up what he had been seeking: a small pencil sharpener.

He smiled and skipped back to his place in the front of the room…and began sharpening. Sharpening and sharpening and sharpening and sharpening and sharpening…. The teacher, valiantly continuing to teach, walked to her desk and pulled out a pencil. She walked to him and gave him a meaningful stare as she handed him her pencil. He looked at it as she walked away, perplexed. Then his face lit up with blissful understanding, and he started sharpening her pencil.

End scene.

You can’t make this stuff up.

To be fair, sometimes my colleagues provide me with cheap therapy as well. For instance, in recent years, I’ve helped to dispel many misconceptions regarding standards and testing. I’ve had conversations with colleagues referencing “formalative” assessment (as opposed to “summalative”). During curriculum writing, somone referred to our “new STRANDards.” One of my favorites is this: “What are we going to do about this CANNON Core?”

We all need to seek out the lighter moments and collect stories from our schools to share. It’s a matter of survival.

Do you have a good story? Share it with us on social media with #ClassroomTales.

Julie Scullen is a former member of the ILA Board of Directors, and has also served as president of the Minnesota Reading Association and Minnesota Secondary Reading Interest Council. She taught most of her career in secondary reading intervention classrooms and now serves as Teaching and Learning Specialist for Secondary Reading in Anoka-Hennepin schools in Minnesota, working with teachers of all content areas to foster literacy achievement. She teaches graduate courses at Hamline University in St. Paul in literacy leadership and coaching, disciplinary literacy, critical literacy, and reading assessment and evaluation.