For a long time I didn't teach writing well. I'd stand and deliver, tell and demand, and then wonder why my students wrote little or seemed less than inspired to communicate a message. I'm not proud to admit this, but if we don't reflect on our past, we can't change our future.
Flashing back to my early teaching, I tried to consider what made writing hard to teach and why students didn't seem inspired. I had to realize I didn't connect with students because I wasn't writing. They had no mentor to connect with, no purpose to aspire to. My students received superficial instruction. Today, as I aspire to write, I try to provide authentic instruction to my writers.
Superficial instruction is communicating the content written on the page of a teaching manual. I consider this superficial, because I fall into a tell vs. show instructional style. For instance, transition lessons have caused me trouble. Our class may co-construct an anchor chart and list all the transitions, but that is only a list. Next, we can locate transitions used in an example and speculate why an author might have used the corresponding transition. Delving into text examples may be deeper thinking and more authentic than just listing transitions, but we're still missing something. My students still didn't see how the writer chose their transitions—that missing element in my instruction—how does an author choose to use transition in the moment?
Authentic instruction is my ability to show an actual reading process with live examples. When I consider live writing, I teach students with examples of writing that I am currently working on. My examples include blog posts, articles, chapters, or memoirs. I also incorporate live action writing (my writing process) across the writing workshop. I'll show writers my idea development and my live revisions which may include adjusting my writing according to feedback I have received or just revising sentences, word choice, and even relocating paragraphs as I feel fit.
Examples I show my students are not random; rather, they connect to current lessons. For example, I taught a lesson on text boxes. At the time, I was building an article that included text boxes. By showing my examples, I was able to provide rationales for the construction and selection of text boxes I devised which deepened the lesson.
Authenticity also means in-the-moment writing. In some cases, to model an authentic writing process, I'll draft a piece on the spot to show students how the act of writing looks. For instance, the memoirs I draft, fresh, original, and in front of the class, are about my childhood. I may not be working on a culminating project with my memoirs, but I am sure to tell my students these are memories I am collecting now, hopefully to use later. When I show my students chapters or articles, they learn what my writing purpose is and who my audience is. During our revision lessons, showing my work and my revisions demonstrate perseverance, the very trait so many writers struggle with. I will not write a piece I have no passion for, or an aimless piece, simply to satisfy the requirements of a lesson, because I don't want writers to feel like they have to create products contingent on the assignment.
Perhaps you’re wondering, Isn't your writing above the level of your students? Doesn't that set a bad example?
I hope my writing is above the levels of students (although I wonder sometimes). To be authentic, I have to write as myself. After all, the meaning of authenticity is being true to oneself. If I write at the level of my students (sixth graders), I run the risk of patronizing them. My writing, in turn, is an example to aspire to, not to replicate.
In no way can I ask students, who are 12 years old, to write like me. Students will ultimately assume inferiority, and many will quit. I will include sophisticated words, more complex sentences, and a wider array of transitions in my writing. The purpose of modeling is to provide students with ideas, options, and inspiration. If my students don't see writing they can attain, they won't know how to challenge themselves as writers. The idea is never to compare but to promote the quality of the writing. Quality takes time.
When I model my writing, even at my level, I am able to communicate the writing process. This is perhaps the most important aspect of authentic writing to my students who wonder about choosing transitions and sentence construction. All writers need to own a process, but first they have to see one in action. My life as a writer becomes a scaffold for students adopting their own purposeful writing life, a life of writing for themselves rather than for an assignment.
As my writing instruction evolves, I realize I may not teach writing perfectly, but I guide my writers better than I have before. By showing, I inspire. Telling, as in “Do as I say, not as I do,” is not only hypocritical, but a transfer of shame and inferiority. If I wanted my kids to write I had to show myself as a writer—my authenticity.
Justin Stygles is a sixth-grade teacher and literacy specialist in Western Maine. He has taught at a variety of levels for 12 years and is currently working with Corwin Literacy about effect, emotions, and transactional reading.