Learning Language Alongside My Students: Writing

 

“Did you write in Japanese?” It started with a student’s simple question and a teacher’s mild embarrassment. It’s leading to a more robust language learning community in my classroom.

While I typically read and write with my ELA and EFL students, last year I switched to more closely mirroring my EFL students’ experience by reading in my foreign language, Japanese, while they read in their foreign language, English. I wrote about that switch in this blog post. Currently I’m reading an elementary level graphic novel about Alfred Nobel. We start each class with 10 minutes of independent choice reading followed by 5 minutes of quickwriting, sometimes related to the reading, sometimes not. 

This past Monday, after the students shared their writing and as I prepared to share mine, a student quietly ventured with a little twinkle in his eye, “Did you write in Japanese?”

“No,” I had to admit. “No, I didn’t.” I had tried it once or twice last year, but I am just so slow. I can hardly get a complete thought on the paper in 5 minutes. I wanted to be able to model the kind of thinking that can be done in quickwriting, and I couldn’t do that in the one sentence I could produce in Japanese. However, I was feeling slightly guilty about it. It wasn’t lost on me that the student who’d asked was one who sometimes didn’t get a full sentence out.

“But you are right—I should be writing in Japanese. Starting tomorrow, I will,” I promised them. And I did. I learned a lot, and I think the students did, too. I learned some Japanese, I learned some empathy, I learned about language learning, I modeled characteristics of good language learners, and I gave students the opportunity show their expertise by teaching me. We became a more dynamic learning community.

Here are a few stories from that community so far: 

The first day as I shared my writing in Japanese, I said, “I’m not sure this is the right word.” A student confirmed that it was. But after I’d finished, he corrected a different word. I was surprised at how threatening it felt to share something with my students that I knew they were better at than me. (It’s even a little scary to publish the photo of my writing because while it will look super cool to people who don’t know any Japanese, any readers who know Japanese will see its awkwardness and errors.) But that’s what students do every day. It’s good for me to share the vulnerability of risk taking that is an inevitable part of learning. And the student who offered the corrections just lit up with the opportunity to teach the teacher.

When the student corrected the word, he repeated the whole phrase, and while chagrined that I’d gotten one word wrong, I was happy that the verb at the end he said exactly as I’d written. I hadn’t been entirely confidently that I’d written it naturally. I know I’ve read about the value of repeating corrected phrases back to students, and now I really get it. 

I realized that one of the things that prevents me getting much writing on the page is stopping to look up each word I’m unsure of as I come to it. So I’d just write it in English and then, if I had time once I’d gotten the whole thought out, I could go back and look up the Japanese word. Finland. Weapon. Be involved. I showed the students the page in my notebook, and their “Oh!” revealed they could see the benefit of the strategy--a strategy I’ve read about and encouraged students to do with little, and now we’ve all seen it in action. 

One day I wrote about my process to determine the meaning of a new word. The word was shizumu. I recognized -mu as a verb ending, and I knew shizuka means quiet. So I guessed it had something to do with being quiet or making something quiet. But the rest of the sentence was about ships, war, and gunpowder. Didn’t sound quiet to me. I had to resort to Google Translate, which revealed the meaning as sink. Now it all made sense! The students laughed and shared their insight that English word relationships show up in similar sounds, but Japanese word relationships don't. You have to look at the kanji, or Chinese characters. "Yes," I responded, "but because the book I’m reading is so simple, it doesn't have the kanji for shizumu—only the hiragana" (syllabic characters). “Aaah!” they nodded, better understanding my confusion. A little metacognition about problem-solving skills in language acquisition and differences between English and Japanese is always interesting.

I’m thankful for that student’s question, “Did you write in Japanese?” I’m glad it pushed me to do something I knew I should be doing to deepen the language learning community in my classroom. It helped me continue my metamorphosis from the chief English speaker in my classroom to the chief language learner.

How exactly have I grown? I’ve grown in my…

• Empathy for students: Language learning is HARD…and humbling.
• Best practices of language learning: I’ve had the opportunity to model best language learning practices we’ve talked about in class—risk taking, learning from mistakes, perseverance, and ability to teach.
• Best practices of language teaching: I’ve had eureka moments of gut understanding of why certain best practices I’ve read about are effective, making me more likely to consistently practice them; for example, assets-based approach, worrying less about correctness and more about flow, using first language when necessary to not interrupt writing flow, correcting on a limited basis by repeating to reinforce what’s right.

Oh, yes—and I’ve also gotten better at writing Japanese. If I can learn this much in 3 days, what will I learn in the 2-1/2 trimesters left this year? I can’t wait to find out!

What helps you grow in your empathy for students? In your understanding of best teaching practices? In your role as the chief learner in your classroom?

Doing Poetry: Writing Like Readers

Students read and comment on each other's poems.

A soccer player breathlessly follows her favorite team’s match, and the next day at lunch, she’s trying the cool move that won the game. A guitarist listens to his favorite artist’s new release on repeat, eyes closed, fingers reaching for air chords, and then pulls out his own guitar to try it. It makes sense that poetry engages students when we treat it the same way: observing a master at work, and then trying out the cool move ourselves. It works for high school (see this post), and it works for middle school.

Here’s what it looked like recently with my 6th and 7th graders:

(1) We read a poem, actively engaging in observing what the poet does and the effect it has. To see how we did this with “To a Daughter Leaving Home” by Linda Pastan, see this blog post.

(2) I identified for imitation significant patterns and literary devices the poet uses. Here’s what I identified for 3 of the poems we imitated:

• Using “Fog” by Carl Sandburg as a model: Write at least 2 sentences in 4 lines personifying a natural occurrence as an animal.
• Using “Foul Shot” by Edwin A. Hoey as a model: Write at least 2 sentences—one for a person (with 5 vivid verbs) and one for an object (with 5 vivid verbs, one per line) involved in the same event. Also use personification, alliteration, and onomatopoeia at least once each.
• Using “To a Daughter Leaving Home” by Linda Pastan as a model: Choose a time you took a step of independence, learned something new, or did something for the first time by yourself. Write a vivid, literal description of doing it. Include at least 3 specific concrete images (at least 5 lines). End with a simile (at least 2 lines). (Total: at least 7 lines)

(3) I modeled writing with a model. Here’s my poem modeled on “Fog.” 

Typhoon

The typhoon swims toward the island

with powerful strokes of muscular flukes.

It breaches, blows, turns, and sprays 

water over the city and farm and 

leaves everything drowned in its wake.

(4) Students tried it out themselves, and shared with a writing partner for revision.

(5) I modeled reflecting on my writing process and choices. Here's my reflection for "Typhoon": I lived in Okinawa for 4 years, and the typhoons I experienced there were really amazing, so I wanted to try to write about them. I thought that a whale was both powerful and wet, like a typhoon. I didn’t like my first draft very much, but then I realized that I could make a more subtle comparison by just using terms that are specific to whales to describe the typhoon--like “flukes” and “breaches.” Then suddenly “blows” turns from an ordinary word about the wind to one associated with whales, too, as in “Thar she blows!”

(6) Students produced a final draft with a reflection on each poem.

(7) We celebrated! (See photo above.) Students chose 1 poem with its reflection to share with the class. I scattered the chosen poems around the classroom, and gave each student 3 post-it notes for leaving positive comments on 3 classmates poems. This gave writers the opportunity to observe and admire their peers poems, and to get their peers’ responses to their own. 

The poems demonstrated a real grasp of the moves poets use to give their language power--vivid images, personification, metaphor, simile, repetition, shape, word choice, alliteration, onomatopoeia. The reflections articulated students' metacognition about writing. And peer feedback pointed out specific words and phrases that were powerful, images that were surprising, and affirmed creativity and humor. 

Here are a few of the poems: 

  

Rain
The rain comes suddenly
like an energetic puppy.
It hops and plays over mountains and cities
and when it finally grows tired
it gives one final lick
and enters a world of dreams.

Slumbering
With no expectations
and the drowsiness closing in
the little girl being watched by darkness
surrounded by silence
sleeping soundly
sees a clouded image.
Her dream
looms over the earth
searching for a setting
stopping
sniffing
satisfied
smiling
sitting
setting up
thinking to itself
Then 

    Then 

        Then
Then begins.

(See the P.S. for more examples!)

How about you? What do you find engages students with poetry? Have you ever tried model poems or writing reflections? 

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P.S. Read on for 5 more student examples!

Tornado
The tornado comes
with the sound of a lion.
It flings its claws
through houses and trees,
destroying everything in its path
and then dashes away.

Water Kicker
With a cheer from a whole swimming stadium
I started swimming through the water
with ten enemies in front of me
watch the lines with my eyes behind my goggles
I went one, 

            two, 

            three!
Catch up! Catch up! Catch up!
and then, 

            and then, 

                        and then,
I reached the goal, first place.

The Contest
With the judges and the audience staring,
his heart beating strongly in his chest,
the man puts his fingers on the keys
and starts playing the piano.
The piano creates a sound,
a note,
and then
a melody.
Twisting his fingers from side to side
glimpsing at the audience from time to time
the man finishes the song
with a ton of applause.

Skating Along
When you taught me 
how to skate on ice,
skating along beside you,
as I held your hand
and slipped and slid, slowly letting go
and wobbling away,
with my arms straight to the side like
a tightrope walker.

Sorry I Forgot Again
When you taught me how to grip 
chopsticks properly when I was four, you
taught me as gently as an angel.

When you taught me how to grip
chopsticks properly when I was four, you
taught me as strictly as a Spartan.

("Sorry I Forgot Again" reminded me so strongly of "This Is Just to Say" by William Carlos Williams, but the writer is a 7th grade English language learner. I can't wait to ask him where he got the idea, and to show him Williams' poem!)

Amplifying Joy by Telling My Happy Stories

What stories did you tell this week? Teachers want to help, so we tend to focus on problems that need to be fixed—maladaptive behaviors, underdeveloped skills, knowledge gaps. Those are the stories we talk about in the staff room and the things we turn over in our minds at night. 

Problem solving is important in its place, but when I’m over focused on problems, it can affect my mindset and undermine my well-being. When the stories I tell are always about the challenges and frustrations, I can come to see myself and my students as challenged and frustrated. That’s when I need to remember what Paul urges the Philippians to focus on: “…whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things” (NIV 4:8). 

To think about such things, I need to notice them. And generally what I’m thinking about is what I talk about. As I talk about them, my focus increases, and I notice more, creating a virtuous cycle of celebration.  

So this week I decided to collect and recount my happy stories—the lovely, admirable, excellent moments that happened with my 6th and 7th graders, the moments that sparked joy and reminded me how much I love my work and my students. Because sharing amplifies focus, I shared some of them as they happened with colleagues in the office or at the end of the day on social media. Now I’m pulling them all together so I can remember them again, and so I can share them with anyone who needs to hear a few teaching happy stories. Maybe then you can tell me a few of yours!

• I chatted with a breathless, damp, red-faced student outside the door of our 2nd period class as we waited for the first period class to finish and come out. She said they’d just finished a volleyball test in PE. “And it’s very…mushiatsui….” I supplied the English word for the Japanese: “Humid?” “Yes, humid. I feel like a dumpling.” She did look a lot like a steamed Chinese bun with filling. “That is a PERFECT simile!” I laughed—connecting it to the poetry we were studying in class.
• A student entering the classroom greeted me, "I found a cool word in my book—retrospect.” I replied, “That IS a cool word. Do you know what it means?” To which he answered, “Yeah…but I think it sounds like a robot name.”
• During independent reading time, a student I was conferencing with gushed, “I love Alan Gratz [author of the last 2 books she's read] because the chapters always end at a place that makes you want to know more!” Agreeing, I probed, “Do you know what a cliffhanger is?” “No!” she breathed, waiting wide-eyed for my explanation.
• In other independent reading news, some students are challenging themselves with harder books. One student who had chosen mostly Diary of a Wimpy Kid and Dogman comics decided to try Grenade by Alan Gratz, historical fiction set in Okinawa in World War 2. Another student who had been re-reading Sideways Stories from Wayside School books by Lois Sachar decided to try The Bridge Home by Padma Venkatraman, a contemporary novel about homeless children in India.
• As part of our poetry study, we explored Matsuo Basho's famous haiku about the sound of water when a frog jumps into an old pond. The next day we did Hebrew poetry and read Psalm 23:1-4. I read the line, "He leads me beside quiet waters" and asked what image the kids saw. One boy raised his hand and said, "I see the pond the frog jumped into." Ha. My mental image of Psalm 23 has been forever tampered with. But I do love it when kids make connections from one piece of literature to the next!
• Reading Psalm 23 we’d focused on the images extending the shepherd metaphor. The students sketched what they envisioned as I drew my mental pictures on the whiteboard (green pastures, quiet water, etc.). After class, one students wanted to show me her picture of “the darkest valley.” It included many pairs of glowing wolf eyes! (See photo above.)

Sure there are still challenges. There’s still the quiz that half the class did very poorly on. The student whose attention wanders. The student with gaps in background knowledge. We’re working on it. New seating chart Monday. Re-take on the quiz on Tuesday. In the meantime, I'm sitting here smiling as I've relived these happy stories. I love my students and I love my work. 

What are some of your happy stories from this week? What do you notice? Who do you tell? How do you celebrate? 

Reading to Learn about the World

 

Imagine a world without writing or reading. Not just a world without Shakespeare and English essays, or even without Harry Potter and love notes—but a world without cumulative human knowledge or any written record of thoughts, discoveries, or events from the past. There would be a few trained bards who would have memorized for recitation genealogies and one history, but there would be no way to confirm, augment, or counter that one narrative. 

I can hear my students arguing that they would have photographs, audio recordings, and video to fill those functions. But I doubt those technologies would have been developed without the ability to hold a thought or discovery and communicate it to someone in a different place or later time to build on. 

Let’s take something simple, like the dinner I’m going to start fixing later on. Without writing and reading, I could only make the recipes I could remember. The food in my cupboards wouldn’t have any labels on it. Would there even be packaged food? Would the factories and machinery to mass produce it have been built? How about my refrigerator, gas stove, and hot and cold running water?

Aaaakkkk! Whew…extracted myself from that alternate universe. 

Because we have writing and reading, I can not only look up an old favorite recipe of my mom’s or find an exciting new one on the internet, I can learn just about anything I want to, from how to be a better teacher (currently reading The ELL Teacher’s Toolbox, Becoming a Globally Competent Teacher, The Art of Talking with Children, and Book Love) to what it’s like being a Japanese-American middle school girl living in Kansas (Dream, Annie, Dream) to Christian thoughts on end-of-life decisions (Departing in Peace).

Sometimes, I take a deep dive into an issue. When Russia invaded Ukraine two months ago, I found myself completely lacking background knowledge. In addition to the news, I turned to books. I read... 

• History (Ukraine: What Everyone Needs to Know by Serhy Yekelchyk and The Gates of Europe: A History of Ukraine by Serii Plokhy)
• Memoir (Lessons from the Edge by Marie Yovanovitch)
• Fiction, adult (I Will Die in a Foreign Land by Kalani Pickhart)
• Fiction, middle grades (The Open Steppe by Esther Hautzig and Letters from Rifka by Karen Hesse)
• Fiction, YA (I Must Betray You by Ruta Sepetys)
• A children’s picture book (Rechenka’s Eggs by Patricia Polacco). 
• Nonfiction (Putin’s People: How the KGB Took Back Russia and Then Took on the West by Catherine Belton). 

I know a lot more about Ukraine, Russia, and surrounding countries now than I did two months ago. 

I noticed some things about my reading. At first, I was lost in the history—so many places, people, and events I’d never heard of before. But I was getting a general outline—lots of cultures, lots of conflict, lots of empires. Eventually, I began recognizing some names. When I read I Will Die in a Foreign Land, set during the Maidan uprising of 2013-2014, I gained empathy for the human experience of that event in that place I’d read about. 

The empathy transferred. I ached for the narrator in I Must Betray You when he wondered whether the world had forgotten about Romanians still behind the Iron Curtain. Then I read a news report about the continuing civil war in Myanmar, and I wondered if the defecting soldier in the story felt the same. 

However, all the violence and despair needed a counterpoint. It just so happened that at the same time, I was reading Prayer in the Night: For Those Who Work or Watch or Weep by Tish Harrison Warren. It was comfort in the strongest sense of the word to be reminded of how Christians ancient and modern have held onto God in prayer.

Now I’m back to nonfiction, struggling through Putin's People (so much economics!). But I'm willing to struggle, letting the economics go and reading for the politics. I understand so much more about Russian politics that I did at the beginning of the invasion when I was flabbergasted that a leader’s promise not to invade could be so flagrantly violated. 

What if students did this? What if students got curious, and had the skills to go find out? This is the course goal at the top of my 6th and 7th grade ELA syllabus: Students will grow in their confidence, competence, and joy in using the English skills of reading, writing, thinking, speaking, and listening in order to learn, communicate, collaborate, love their neighbors, and impact the world.

One way I’m working on that is creating a homepage displays for our online library that focus on nonfiction and ask students what they want to learn about the world. (See photos above and below.)

Another way is by curating books that will connect students at all levels with things that are going on in the world. In my original list, the YA and middle grades aren't explicitly Ukrainian--but they are as close as I could find. However, just this week I discovered a new book middle grades book that fills the bill: The Blackbird Girls by Anne Blankman. I’ll have to order it and read it. I’ll let you know if it’s good.

What does it look like when students discover the power of reading to learn about the world? One student who last year in 5th grade was most excited about reading Dogman is now devouring Alan Gratz’s historical fiction (he’d finished Grenade and started Samurai Shortstop in the first 2 weeks of 6th grade). 

What are you reading to learn about the world? What do you do to connect kids with the learning power of reading?