Treadmills are Like Reading Logs

I realized some things as I ran today. Running is solitary. I’m all alone, in my head.  As I run I’m composing, revising, rethinking. Sometimes by the end of a run, I’ve got a great idea. Sometimes I follow through on that idea. But mostly I don’t.

Writing pushes me think an idea through and to next steps. During my run I was thinking of the recent post on Teaching to the Core : “One of the biggest bang-for-your-buck Common Core standards is W.CCR.10, which basically says, ‘Write frequently for many reasons.’ “ So true for me personally. Writing has provided the biggest bang for my learning as a teacher.  I’ve revised, edited and most importantly published them, for someone to read. This process makes it so much bigger than just those musings I had in my head. Through the process of writing, my ideas are better and the process of making them public pushes me to live up to those words.   

Running today I thought about goal setting. I injured my ankle in May and couldn’t run for a month. I slowly and carefully started running again. It was a struggle because of the injury. I carefully managed and measured my running by time and distance on a treadmill. That way I  gradually got stronger as I set goals for myself. I started running again in June at 5 minutes/10 minute pace. Today I ran 4.6 miles in 39 minutes. I was a fragile, injured runner, but by setting goals and gradually increasing, I’m much stronger.

This leads me to my struggle with reading logs. I know on many levels logs do not speak the truth about a reader, they drive parents crazy, and many students have a very difficult time keeping track of them. I want to abandon the paper lunacy of logging in logging out, tracking, and incentivizing. So I’ve been leaning strongly toward no logs. Requiring one book a week, 40 books during the school year, and public responses to reading as measures of student accountability. But, there is one thing missing from this scenario:  goal setting.

I asked my students about the possibility of giving up logs for a different way of measuring our reading. They  were uncomfortable with letting logs go. Many saw it as a way of showing the teacher they are reading. Most said they have been unsuccessful keeping up with them in the past, but promised that this year would be better!  I had them write about it and one-third felt that reading logs helped them by keeping them on track “so I could see if I read or not.” Another said it was “like a teacher that pushed me.” These responses came from fragile readers. The strong were willing to give it up. Makes me think of myself as a fragile runner. I needed that treadmill because it helped me set goals and tracked my progress. When I was strong, I hated the treadmill because it constrained me.

My students spoke.  I need to create a system that accommodates these readers: those who need to measure their reading, visually. Something that builds them up to become stronger readers. Perhaps another thing for those who are constrained by logs. I’m thinking of a lined post it, that moves through the book as a book mark and allows students to measure or track their reading. When finished with the book the post it becomes a part of their reading portfolio.   I’ll run this idea by them tomorrow. We’ll test it out.

Any ideas about measuring reading? Please post a thought.

Learning is Like a Puzzle

“Learning is like a puzzle you just have to figure it out.”

That was the last sentence of my student’s 5th grade culmination speech.  Her thinking is brilliant but she wasn’t the academic star. No, quite the opposite. She is a student with significant learning disabilities.

Alyssa had struggled all of her school years and entered my classroom apologetic about her failure to succeed. She felt she was pretty dumb and wrote how it hurt
so much to watch the other kids pass her, while she struggled with lower level books and spelling. Every word was a struggle — getting her thoughts out on the page, reading the page —  was so hard for her. In spite of that struggle, or maybe because of it, Alyssa was able to piece together ideas that other more proficient students were blind to. Decoding was difficult but she was brilliant at synthesis. In read aloud she was the star — all of the physical work of reading was done and she was free to think and piece the puzzle together.

More PD, Please…

Alyssa and the many students like her are the reason we teach. The reason we go to professional development on our own time and dime. In fact we are desperately looking for these opportunities.

This past week, I had the privilege to be with 60 educators from my district who had the drive to learn. They all came looking for something to help them teach students like Alyssa to read closely. We sat and learned about Know and Wonder thinking  based on What Readers Really Do. We worked with some of the Sign Posts from Kylene Beers and Robert Probst’s Notice and Note. We read aloud.  We charted.  We read slowly, carefully.  We talked. We wondered. We planned book groups to have with colleagues. At the end we hung around wanting more.

Strength in Weakness and the Beauty of Partnership

Teachers’ conversations were really thought provoking and inspirational. One
teacher confessed to being just like Alyssa. She said she still has to read slowly and re read to understand. This confession brought out something from her colleague and book club partner: while the “struggling” partner may be slower, the depth of her understanding was often greater and thereby enriched the thinking of the partner who read with greater ease.  In fact with the call to read closely, perhaps those with the practice of reading slowly will be doing more of the leading. Ah, the beauty of a partnership that finds strength in weakness.  Win, win. Made me think about reading partnerships in my classroom. Would it be possible
to pair students like these two teachers? Could be a wonderful thing.

Seeing each other for what we bring to our community, weaknesses and all give
us strength. I saw that in our community of teachers looking to piece the puzzle together, willingly in fact joyfully. All of these educators had  Carol Dweck‘s growth mindset: no one with the answer, no excuses, no one had to be the star. We were in it to figure it out. We have to for all of the Alyssas in our rooms.

Learning and Growth — The Struggle is the Same

As I look at my students and create  learning groups and partnerships, I will remember those conversations with my colleagues.  We all are like Alyssa struggling to figure out the puzzle. Piece by piece, little by little we will get there.

Things I plan to keep uppermost in my mind this year:

1. Growth includes failure — don’t fear it, figure it out

2. Celebrate success — acknowledge what it took to get there

3. Look for  brilliance — hold it out for all to admire

4. Know that some things take time — foster patience