Literacy Now

A few years ago, staff at Edward White Elementary learned we would begin a partnership in comprehensive literacy (PCL) with the University of Northern Iowa while beginning full implementation of the Common Core. Designed to enhance the learning of all students, the PCL program involved the use of language, reading, writing, and content workshops, which necessitated a restructuring of our traditional daily schedule.

The Common Core State Standards (CCSS) also called for increased rigor, complexity, and variety in types of texts, requiring the devotion of additional instructional time to new and more challenging materials. Our staff was left pondering where to begin and how to create sufficient time in the day to address all learning goals. Once PCL implementation began, we realized the workshop model worked for the Common Core, too. As a result, our depth of instruction as well as student learning has increased.

Implementing the workshop framework

Regardless of content area, there are five components of the workshop framework. Based on the work of Linda Dorn and Carla Soffos in Teaching for Deep Comprehension: A Reading Workshop Approach (Stenhouse, 2005), workshop models allow student participation in a whole-group minilesson, followed by guided instruction, independent practice, individual conferences, and a whole-group sharing time. The minilesson allows for strategy instruction followed by an opportunity to practice these strategies with varying levels of support in a variety of contexts. Sharing at the end of the workshop is essential, as it facilitates social learning and metacognitive reflection about the day’s learning. Therefore, to be effective, all components of the workshop must be included.

Given the components involved, the implementation of workshops requires a significant amount of instructional time and clear instructional objectives. Because implementation of the CCSS further requires vast amounts of time and understanding of what is being required of students, it was necessary to determine the best means of integrating the standards into the various workshops. We found language workshop allowed for teaching the vocabulary and concepts students needed to understand the requirements of the standards, with particular emphasis being given to the language standards. The reading strands facilitated the alignment of reading and content workshops. Students practiced the reading standards during reading workshop and applied this learning in content area work to build an understanding of science and social studies concepts. Although written responses to share thinking occur in all workshops, writing workshop allowed for focused writing instruction to enhance students’ understanding of the craft. Through all workshops, collaboration and application of learned skills integrate the speaking/listening and foundational skills standards. Recognizing the connection between the various workshops and the CCSS supporting these areas created a framework to structure all educational experience throughout the day, maximizing our instructional time.

Learning and mastering the standards

The rigor of the CCSS places high expectations on student performance. Therefore, within each workshop, instruction needs to be carefully tailored to the needs of students, continually moving their learning forward to promote mastery. A Gradual Release of Responsibility model, as explained by Doug Fisher and Nancy Frey in Better Learning Through Structured Teaching: A Framework for the Gradual Release of Responsibility (Association for Supervision and Curriculum Development, 2014), fits the workshop framework and allows students to take additional responsibility for learning as they gain proficiency with the standards. Through the workshop, there are opportunities for focused instruction (minilessons), guided and collaborative practice (small group and partner work), and independent practice. As mentioned, standards align throughout the various workshops. Therefore, as Dorn and Soffos highlight, not only are students able to gradually accept more responsibility for learning, they also can apply this learning in a variety of contexts promoting the transfer of understanding.

The CCSS increase expectations for student progress. As teachers, we must ensure our students demonstrate proficiency with grade-level standards. In the PCL, to maintain growth and monitor progress, formative assessments become key in documenting student understanding. The Dorn and Soffos workshop model incorporates a variety of instructional settings, including whole group, small group, partner work, and individual practice allowing data to be gathered in various contexts. Formative checklists and anecdotal notes are easy to collect and allow instruction to be tailored to students’ needs. With daily workshops, these assessments become a systematic and common practice. Although our initial reaction to implementing both new standards and the workshop model was one of trepidation, once implemented it became clear we would be able to not only integrate standards throughout the day but have multiple opportunities to monitor students’ progress on a given standard.

Why the workshop model works

Although our staff experienced initial hesitation when being asked to restructure our instructional time and teach new standards, time has shown the workshop model is an effective way to deepen students’ learning across all grade levels. The workshop model allowed us to integrate standards-based instruction throughout the school day; such integration creates experiences in which students become immersed in concepts. As students are exposed to the standards in a variety of situations, with responsibility for learning gradually released to them, they have an increased depth of understanding. Our building data have shown an increase in students performing at grade level as a result of our instructional practices. Thus, the workshop has proven to be a powerful instructional technique to fully implement the Common Core and ensure the learning of all students in our school.

Jennifer Neff teaches first grade at Edward White Elementary School in Eldridge, IA, and is the ESL coordinator for the North Scott School District. She earned her bachelor's degree in elementary education and Spanish from Augustana College in Illinois, and a master’s degrees in bilingual/ESL education and reading from Western Illinois.

The emergence of shame during the intermediate years is discussed at length, as we may recall, from Erik Erikson’s Human Growth and Development courses, but shame is complex. The fact is, our kids come in and reside in our classroom feeling shame in ways we may not even recognize or understand. This shame, be it the internal sense of shame about one’s being, the comparison of one’s perceived abilities to another’s, or confusion amid contrasting value sets, prevents students from reading, not because of reluctance, but because of the need to protect one’s sense of self.

Let’s look at shame within contrasting value sets. In our schools, we inadvertently confuse readers. By virtue of reading interests, students acquire a sense of their “reading-self” through their ease and enjoyment in reading. These students are readers. Then there is interaction with text. We can consider close reading, strategic reading, and transactional reading as modes of interacting with text. Pleasure reading and interacting with text can be related, but are often separate.

Thomas, for example, noted himself as a good reader. Test scores showed he met standards and his annual reading level assessment verified his status as a good reader. However, in day-to-day reading engagement and comprehension work, Thomas found himself swimming in frustration. The work did not challenge the limits of his zone of proximal development. Rather, how he treated text, drew information from text, and relied on previous reading experiences befuddled him. He’d become a good reader but lacked tools or experience to access text appropriately. The shame he began to feel around reading had little to do with his capabilities, but instead with his experiences.

To find the source of Thomas’s frustrations, we looked at what he wrote in his reading autobiography:

• In second grade I started to read graphic novels. But otherwise I really didn’t read much. I wrote more.
• In third grade I actually read Mark of Athena. I actually started to like reading in third grade.
• I don’t remember anything about fourth grade because the teacher didn’t have any books.

Thomas’s short depiction of his reading life revealed some entry points:

• Nothing substantial from reading instruction “stuck.” We know he had reading instruction, but we don’t know what he learned to do as a reader. We can assume he learned to self-select books.
• Thomas read without boundaries. I won’t argue that he read Rick Riordan’s Mark of Athena in grade 3; I simply wonder if the archetypes or the mythological text structure resonated with him in any manner.
• His recollection of reading is contingent on access to print.

In one fashion, I concluded, Thomas indeed pictured himself as a good reader. He aspired to reading and his fondest memories centered on personal values and accomplishments. When I shifted reading instruction to transactional and close reading, I altered Thomas’s perception of reading. In a sense, he had no experience to draw from because his recollections of reading emerged from pleasure reading. Such an event forced Thomas to look in a mirror of reading he had not seen before and he felt shame because he had an incomplete image of his reading ability. When students see themselves as “wrong,” they presume fault as a person rather than observing a gap in reading experience.

Thomas and I had to talk, share, and build a relationship beyond assessment data. In conversation, I learned that his idea of reading instruction dealt with answering questions at the end of a reading. This information helped me realize he didn’t have the skills to interact with text, but he had the capacity to complete reading assignments on the basis of his text recollection.

Time and relationships are the most important factors when working with a student like Thomas who is feeling shame and insecurity regarding his new reading experiences. He didn’t want to lose his cherished image of reading, but we had gaps to fill that did not portray Thomas a bad reader. (Without support and time spent nurturing our readers, students feel we turn our backs on them. When we offer support and nurturing, students create value sets about reading that allow them to feel successful.) We cannot change or eliminate the shame students may feel, but we can foster confidence by guiding them in the time we spend with learning their story or perspective.

In time, Thomas came around. First, I had to help Thomas learn what I call the duality of reading. We had to honor what he valued as a reader—a selection of books at his fingertips and personal choice. Second, Thomas had to learn the function of reading. With this, he had to realize that reading instruction— my teaching him ways to interact with text—would take time, error, and direction. Thomas and I simply had to adjust his value system to incorporate reading that required him to engage with text. None of this would make him a bad reader but, in time, it would make him a smarter reader.

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.

Stygles will present a session entitled “I Hate Reading: Strategies Transforming Negative Self-Perceptions Into Confidence” on Sunday, July 19 at the ILA 2015 Conference in St. Louis, MO, July 18–20. This session will look at how teachers can both prevent shame in reading and in reading communities and transform readers’ lives so students may assimilate being a reader as part of their identity. Visit the ILA 2015 Conference website for more information or to register.

#Hashtags are everywhere! They are strategically placed within television programs, promoted in advertisements, and hyped at conferences and sporting events. Recently I have seen them used for weddings and the birth of a child. For those doubting any sustainability, Merriam-Webster added hashtag to the dictionary in 2014.

A hashtag adds context to a tweet of 140 characters or less. It can identify a post as part of a larger discussion, even if we weren’t invited to join. We find encouragement by aligning our words with others who are like-minded and find freedom in the creation of an original hashtag. Hashtags can support development of skills such as vocabulary, identification of main and supporting ideas, author purpose, and sourcing. (Some teachers may have a very hard time ignoring the missing spaces between words.)

Students may not admit it, but choosing a hashtag is a thoughtful process—or it should be. The properly chosen word or phrase makes an immediate impression, in case a reader simply doesn’t have time to read all 140 characters. Much like a title, author intent is revealed immediately after the pound sign, #. Most students have some level of understanding about the use of hashtags. They can explain why they select those that they use and offer insight into why they believe some are better than others. The selection of a hashtag (to post or follow) is a thoughtful process using vocabulary, prior knowledge, key ideas, and intent. (Sounds academic, but that’s our secret.)

Hashtags and key vocabulary, or #hashtagvocab

Based on an online search, I found the following key points to consider when choosing a hashtag. If this concept is still a bit foreign to you, try replacing the term “hashtag” with “search terms,” ”key words,” “primary sources,” “informational texts,” or a term that applies to your discipline and feels more familiar.

For my #hashtag guidelines, I will answer in 140 characters, not counting spaces or hashtags. Sorry Twitter, my rules here.

What #hashtags already exist? What’s already out there? Predictable hashtags may lead to tweets introducing facts, key players, places, and causes. Follow a tweet trail and think outside the box. #mainidea #characters #setting #vocabulary #multipletexts

What #hashtag should I use? Study hashtags with the 5Ws. Then, with audience and purpose in mind, consider how the hashtag impacts your message. Do you join a train of thought or go a new direction? #authorintent #bias #relationships #explicit/implicit

Should I create a new hashtag? Hashtags lead to info, but your message is unique. You combine content knowledge, expressive vocabulary, and unique components or purpose that makes it yours. Own it! #evidence #evaluate #authorpurpose

Cindy Rich, PhD, directs the Library of Congress Teaching with Primary Sources program and teaches Literacy in the Secondary Education Content Areas in the College of Education and Professional Studies at Eastern Illinois University (EIU). Prior to that she taught at the high school level and was director of the EIU Reading Center.

When my daughter was in elementary school, she brought home a letter informing us she was going to be working on a project. “A project, Mom!” She beamed with excitement, toting a book with a happy panda on the cover.  

The word project strikes fear in the heart of parents everywhere, particularly those with more than one child. This was my third go-round with this project. She was to read a nonfiction book about an animal and then create a diorama to celebrate what she had learned.

Clearly, discussions about pandas were in my future.

Full disclosure: I really am a big fan of being “crafty.” I can adequately sew, quilt, cross-stitch, and crochet. I’ve attended local “Wine and Canvas” painting nights. I’ve been a scrapbooker. I’ve learned to make my own jewelry, and for that I now have a box of fancy beads, wires and tools and…one crooked pair of earrings. One of my Pinterest boards is devoted to the hundreds of things I’m eventually going to make, paint, sew, glue, and create in my spare time.

Even so, the thought of making a diorama with my daughter made me a bit queasy.

Now, before you start sending disapproving e-mails, please understand that I know art has a place in school. I’ve been to all the staff development on brain research. I’ve differentiated according to learning style in my classroom. Honest, I get it.

However, this was more. These dioramas would be on display. This ramps up the apprehension and concern considerably.

It’s no secret to any experienced parent that this project wasn’t really a student project. I’d seen the dioramas from previous years proudly displayed on Parent Night. At the unveiling of the class dioramas there would be plenty of moms and dads patting their child on the back for their beautiful rendition of a wildebeest habitat, complete with holding pond, a small stream, and live trees—while turning up their noses at the projects that were clearly created by students with less crafty parents, with their visible glue, smudges, and descriptions scrawled in crayon on loose-leaf paper.

I had a small panic attack at the thought of providing guidance to my daughter in making a diorama for panda in his natural habitat. (Assuming we would learn pandas live in shoeboxes.)

This project would require me to scavenge a shoebox (“small, and in good condition”) and also require no less than three financially debilitating trips to the craft store. You can’t buy just three green pipe cleaners, you must buy the entire package in a rainbow of colors. You can’t just use regular green construction paper, you must buy the fancy paper that actually looks like leaves. Who doesn’t cherish the thought of standing in the craft store paper aisle with a tearful child frantically looking for paper covered in bamboo leaves?

As an educator, I take issue with this type of project for a different reason: relevancy. Show me the adult who finishes a novel, a biography, or an article in Time magazine and proceeds to turn to another person and say, “Wow, that was fascinating. I’d love to share it with you. I need to make a quick trip to the craft store, but I’ll have a diorama ready for you tomorrow by noon.”

Did my daughter learn about pandas? Yes. She read her panda book with reverence and gusto three times. She made a list of the environmental needs of pandas. This work took about 30 minutes. Creating the diorama took more than a week from planning to completion.

Every night she worked on the project while I fought the urge to push her aside to do it for her. I reminded her again and again that this was to be her work, not mine. She raised her eyebrow suspiciously, but soldiered on. After tears and a meltdown requiring ice cream for both of us, I gave in and assisted.

Clay lumps wouldn’t hold the trees and brush in place, so we went to the craft store to purchase industrial-strength glue. The glue wouldn’t hold the pipe cleaner trees and bushes in place either, so we gave up and used staples. Unfortunately, staples are not skin friendly. Anyone who held the completed project was in serious danger of bleeding to death from staple piercings.

Granted, she learned from this project. She learned that when clay doesn’t work to use glue. When glue doesn’t work, use staples. She learned that the use of staples creates a need for bandages. She learned that a 5-inch stuffed panda is difficult to display to scale in a 6-inch high shoebox.

What did she learn about pandas? She’ll tell you she learned pandas eat bamboo, and they aren’t really bears. This is good knowledge to have.

Julie Scullen is a former president of the Minnesota Reading Association and Minnesota Secondary Reading Interest Council and is a current member of the International Literacy Association Board of Directors.  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, as well as Reading Assessment and Evaluation.

We know “writing anchors reading.” So how can we let the entire summer pass without supporting student writing? That was nagging primary-grade teachers at Hollin Meadows Science and Math Focus School in Alexandria, VA. The answer: Develop an innovative weekly literacy outreach program for summer vacation called “Writing Nights” to imitate the writers’ workshop students experience daily during the school year.

Coordinated by reading teacher Sally Chadbourn and first-grade teacher Kathy Boykin for a teachers-as-researchers project, kindergarten and grade 1 and 2 colleagues collected data from “writing on demand” samples during the school year, which gave students time to write independently during writers’ workshop. Data showed writing development correlated with reading progress.

As a result of that research, each week during the summer of 2014, staff held Writing Nights to provide equivalent time to students for writing and reading. Sessions were held for students ages 5–8 at Sherwood Regional Library in Alexandria, VA, Mondays 6:30 p.m.–7:30 p.m.

Fifteen teachers, preK–grade 3, volunteered in rotating teams of five members to provide writers’ workshops to children who had never experienced classroom instruction and their parents. For this Title I elementary school of 600 students, school principal Jon Gates (another Monday night stalwart) encouraged staff to use the school’s e-mail list and robo-call system each weekend reminding families in English and Spanish to attend Writing Nights.

“We had no idea what attendance would be last summer, yet felt we had a ‘hit’ on our hands and were meeting children’s needs when the library meeting room routinely topped maximum capacity,” recalls Ann Avila, Writing Nights’ coordinator and a first-grade teacher. “We averaged 45 students plus 45 parents every Writing Night. One of the librarians expressed concern that we might even be breaking fire code regulations with so many busy people in the meeting room!”

Each Monday night, two teachers launched a carefully designed focus lesson with a read-aloud to introduce writers’ crafts to the diverse young audience: informational text about local critters, squirrels, rabbits, and raccoons; poetry with onomatopoeia; alphabet books; maps; how-to procedures for gardening. With one teacher soliciting students’ ideas and another teacher recording their thinking through shared or interactive writing, children co-constructed a mentor text to serve as an example of the featured genre and writer’s craft. During independent writing, parents imitated teacher teams and conferred with their own young author-illustrators. Finally, everyone gathered in sharing circles as children reluctantly quit drawing and writing to become peer-partners and display their work to friends and families.

“Yes, the goal for both Writing Nights and the summer book mailing program was to make sure children’s writing and reading didn’t suffer what’s known as ‘summer slide,’” stated Avila. “But we’ve also achieved another goal: developing a sense of community centered on the public library. It provides a wonderful atmosphere for families to come together on Writing Nights, talk and get to know each other, and learn.” Parents of kindergarten students praised the program for introducing them to school curriculum, instruction, and a network of friends before the school year began through the program.

The result was W Is for Writing Nights,similar to alphabet books read aloud as mentor texts. During Writing Nights, rising K–3 students wrote and illustrated their own record of the program. Students took home copies of the pages they wrote as mementos of their participation. In addition, these same students and all other rising Grade K–3 pupils receive books mailed to them four times during the summer as part of Hollin Meadows’ decade-old summer book mailing program to help families establish home libraries.

Writing Nights are now a summer tradition. The 8-week program will start June 29 with—by popular demand—an added 15 minutes each week!

Sally Chadbourn is a reading teacher and Ann Avila teaches grades 1–3 at Hollin Meadows Science and Math Focus School in Alexandria, VA.