Yesterday, my students read an essay about the very proscriptive Jane Schaffer method of teaching writing. Schaffer advocates a rigid paragraph structure with topic sentence, concrete details, two sentences of commentary, another concrete detail, two more sentences of commentary, and then a concluding sentence. She also asserts that body paragraphs should average about 100 words and that introductions/conclusions should average about 40. Schaffer even includes counting words as part of the revision process. The article my students read tries to be even handed, pointing out some of the benefits of formulaic writing while still critiquing the approach. My students’ reaction surprised me.
Although they labeled the approach “extreme,” they said they had never seen this sort of formulaic approach used in schools. They seemed unable to see the parallels between Schaffer’s approach to writing and the five paragraph essay, which many of them said was the way they were taught to write.
So . . . I backed up. I asked them to tell me what they saw as defining these kinds of approaches. They listed things like thesis statements, topic sentences, etc. When I tried to get them to think of these things as genre conventions specific only to certain kinds of writing, they resisted. One student even said she couldn’t imagine any kind of writing that didn’t fit that kind of structure–and she asked me to give examples of writing that didn’t. I was happy to provide some, making sure to include an argumentative piece of writing that might have a paragraph structured as a comparison/contrast or some other type of organization that didn’t fit the evidence/commentary model. Another student asked me what other approach to teaching writing existed (a question that I think she thought would stump me). Keep in mind, that I started this part of my curriculum with a handout that detailed different approaches to writing. And that over the last few weeks, we’ve been studying genre theory and talking about how teachers can help students learn to make decisions and be strategic when they write.
Although I’m glad that my students feel that their teachers emphasized that the five paragraph essay can be flexible, I’m troubled that they feel that formulaic approaches to writing have a premium on helping students understand structure (which is always related to genre rather than being something that can be reduced into one structure for all essays). Even more troubling is the idea that teachers need to give students a format for their essays, that kids are incapable of learning how to make those decisions themselves.
Realistically, I know that kids need help with writing. I know that many have difficulty generating ideas and figuring out how to put them on paper. In my opinion, the five paragraph essay can be useful for on-demand writing, i.e., timed writes with little time for brainstorming and the generation of ideas. However, I maintain my belief that writing is thinking–and that teachers who provide short cuts to thinking ultimately hinder students’ writing development.
So . . . today I’m feeling like a failure as a teacher.
I’m not an animal person. Do you hear me universe? I’m not. But right now, I have cat love like I can’t believe.
I started feeding a feral cat last fall and eventually named her Annie (Anakin/Annicken). I had a hard time saying that she was “my” cat–rather, I shared my backyard with her and made sure that she had something to eat twice a day. I knew I probably needed to get her fixed, but it took me awhile to gain her trust–and then I got sick for the first two months of the semester (whooping cough, if you can believe it). Anyway, I borrowed a cat trap and a cat carrier, but had no luck catching Annie.
Five weeks ago, I returned from a snowshoeing trip to find Annie missing. The next morning, I discovered her hiding place . . . and the five kittens she had given birth to the day before.
I’ve watched these kittens grow, played with them several times every day, worried about their health, and I’m trying to find good homes for them.
And, let me say it, I love these kittens. They each have their own personality and charm. They are terribly amusing in the mornings as they chase each other, play fight, jump up and down, and try to climb up my legs.
I love Frankie, who has chosen my friend Bo to live with. Frankie is adventurous and chubby, an adorable fur ball who has one of the most intelligent kitty faces ever.
I love Lucky Boots, who has chosen 7 year old Josie as her owner. Boots, too, has a charming face–and her white markings make her a very striking kitty. She’s also very playful and is often the instigator of trouble.
I love Thunder, who is the shyest of the bunch. I’ve been trying to pay extra attention to him, to make sure that he feels comfortable around people. He’s been quite the player himself the last few days, and he’s a great cuddler–but he still hides from me sometimes.
I love Flash, who is independent and a little standoffish. But Flash has this great face with a half white nose–and faint calico markings. Flash is going to be a beautiful cat–and she’s such an interesting cat already.
And I even love Stripes with his loud meows and attention grabbing ways. He’s fattening up and is quite mischievous, but he still loves to be held.
Kittens
Most of all, I love Annie. She has mellowed a lot over the last few weeks. She’s been really protective of her kittens and changed nests a few times, trying to find the best place for them. She’s become more and more affectionate–and I love that she has actually let a number of my friends pet her.
Annie
This past Spring Break will always be the Spring Break of kittens. In less than three weeks, these kittens will be weaned and ready for new homes. I hope to find owners who love them even more than I do.
I promised myself that I’d go snowshoeing this year. I really enjoyed trying it last year and wanted to go on a “real” snowshoeing trek. My friend John belongs to a hiking meet up group and invited me to go along on their snowshoeing trek a week ago. Their destination was Yosemite National Park’s Mariposa Grove, a group of redwoods near the entrance in the Oakhurst/Coarsegold area. I knew the trek would be more strenuous than I could probably handle, but I felt like it was my last opportunity to fulfill my goal this winter, so I decided to go with John, Doug, and the group.
I was really glad I did. For one thing, I got to see scenery like this:
I also got to hang out with the always fun Doug and John.
Most importantly, I pushed my body to its limits and managed to snowshoe for 8 miles, half uphill and the last half, gloriously, downhill.
I was exhausted at the end . . . and yet the next day my body felt mostly fine. We can handle more than we think we can. We can do more than we anticipate. We are rewarded when we try new things and push through our fears and/or limitations.
For the last few days, I’ve done something totally out of character. [Insert your thoughts about what that might be here.]
[Pause.]
I’ve been to the gym twice–and today I took the plunge and enrolled as a member.
Over the last few months, I’ve been concerned about the 5 pounds I brought back with me from Norway. I’ve lost it a couple of times only to gain it back, in spite of all my good intentions. I’ve also realized that I need to start lifting weights and doing more cardiovascular exercise, that this is something I should have been doing for years. Although I’ve loved my morning walks, during the winter it’s more difficult for me to stay regular in my exercise routine, and walking just doesn’t give me all the exercise I need.
So Friday, I met Toni and Bo at the gym. Toni has been a long-time gym rat–and she’s been trying to get me to join her gym for years. While I was in Norway, she talked Bo into joining–and they’ve been working out regularly. Both of them are tiny and muscled. And they seem to really enjoy working out together.
First, we walked on the treadmill for about a half hour. I set my treadmill on an incline and I actually broke a sweat, something that rarely happens when I walk outside. After the treadmill, Toni and Bo had me lift weights. Toni is an expert on this stuff–she knows which machines work which muscles, and she did a great job of estimating how much weight I could handle as a beginner. And Bo has learned a lot over the years and would fill in when Toni was doing her own exercise. In fact, Bo often told me I needed to lift higher or less or lean back or otherwise perfect my position in order to maximize the effects. It felt really good to be working my muscles–and I loved having experts nearby to tell me what to do, how many repetitions, etc.
This morning, we did the same thing, but worked different muscle groups. It was harder for me today, since I hadn’t really eaten anything substantial before I went. But I still really enjoyed the experience–and the anticipation of becoming more toned and fit at the same time that I’m increasing my bone density. Right now, I feel pleasantly aware of my muscles.
I like the idea of combining exercise with hanging out with two friends who I don’t see enough. And I also ran into Asao who is training for a competition and Tobey, who is the principal of the school where my friends Esther and Kristie work (Tobey’s wife just became co-owner of the gym). And I met an English teacher from San Joaquin Memorial (a local Catholic school).
I’ve been feeling very nostalgic for Norway this weekend. A year ago, I went on an 8 day trip that culminated in spending the National Sami Day in Karasjok, the capital of Samiland in Norway. Karasjok was one of three places that I most wanted to visit while in Norway (the other two were the amazing town of Longyearbyen, home of the Global Seed Vault, and Kautokeino, the other big Sami town, which I wasn’t able to visit). I emailed schools in both Karasjok and Kautokeino, hoping that they would invite me to present to their students. When Martin Pope, a teacher at Samisk VGS in Karasjok, invited me to come for the National Sami Day, I couldn’t believe my good fortune! It meant adding two more days to an already long trip and traveling late at night in order to get to Karasjok for the festivities, but it was well worth it to be involved in the Sami celebration. Read about my trip here.
Dixie and one of the Sami students getting ready for a spark race
One of the things we don’t talk about enough as teachers is how much fun (yes, I mean it, fun) it is to prepare for a new class. Just before the holidays, my department chair asked me to teach a class in an entirely new area for me since one of my colleagues and friends will be out on maternity leave this semester (congratulations, Ginny!). Because I had so much grading and grant writing to do, it has taken me awhile to get to class preparation. I conferenced with Ginny getting her advice on how to teach the class, I ordered books, and otherwise gathered materials. But it wasn’t until last week while I was on vacation that I was able to really start reading the materials.
So, yes, I was on vacation in Mexico and I read a lot–I read when I was stuck in airports with long layovers. I’d read in the morning when I woke up and wasn’t ready to go out for breakfast yet. I’d read at night when I returned to the hotel tired after a long day of doing what tourists do. I even took my textbook down to the zocalo (in Oaxaca) one night and read while I ate dinner on an outdoor patio. And you know, the readings were deeply engaging, interesting, and otherwise enjoyable.
The class that I’ve been asked to teach is Literacy Studies. Although much of what I do in relation to English education is devoted to how to teach reading comprehension, writing, and literary analysis in secondary classrooms, Literacy Studies is more focused on the effects of literacy in people’s every day lives. This morning, I’ve been reading essays about the history of standards-based education–and how the discipline of English/Language Arts and the basis for standards are antithetical. I’ve also been reading about how we impose certain expectations about school engagement on adolescents without questioning whether those frameworks are accurate or not–and about the ways that adolescents will assume certain attitudes about school because they think that is what is expected of them. I’m learning about the difference between the autonomous model of literacy vs. the ideological model.
As I read, I take notes on post-its (because one of the books is borrowed from Ginny). My mind keeps making interesting connections. I want to send one article to the Writing Project listserv to see what teachers think about it. I am refining what assignments (both writing projects and oral presentations) I want my students to do. I’m thinking about the questions that will frame how I organize my class. I’m trying to come up with ways to make the material accessible to undergraduates. I still have about a half a book left to read, but I’m starting to feel a lot more comfortable about this subject area–and I’m really looking forward to discovering what my students will think of the ideas in these texts.
I’m excited to teach the class–I just hope I can figure out how to get my students excited about this content, as well. Teaching is an intellectual exercise–which is one of the reasons that I love my profession so much.
For the last seven months I haven’t had any kind of television service: no cable, no satellite, no antenna. When I turn the television on, all I can see is gray snow. It started out as a budgetary measure. I didn’t receive a full paycheck for a number of months after I returned from Norway, so I cut out things that weren’t necessary: television, a gardener, a cell phone (for a month). I learned quite quickly that I could live just fine without a gardener. I actually enjoy mowing my lawn and I feel a sense of accomplishment when I’m done. Television was a little more difficult to abandon.
However, in the age of the internet, hulu, and netflix, it isn’t really necessary to forgo T.V. I still have series that I follow, and I’ve even discovered some new shows through hulu (Glee, Dead Like Me, V). I’m still totally hooked on Dexter, which I view on Netflix (although I hate being a season behind).
But there are some things I miss: the Food Network, Top Chef, Project Runway. I get a little mesmerized by television when I visit friends . . . and these are the shows/networks that I want to watch. Still, when I was in Utah visiting my parents who have cable, I didn’t turn the television on very much at all.
So this is what I’ve found out. I don’t need to spend money on cable or satellite. There are plenty of things I can watch without it. Also, and more importantly, I’ve found other things I can do with my time. I like that I’m not so glued to the television when I’m home. I listen to music more frequently, read, go out with friends, or obsessively check Facebook (okay, that’s my next frontier for self-discipline).
By nature, I’m reflective, often to a fault. Today, I’ve been thinking about what I was doing a year ago, how much I’ve learned during 2009, and what 2010 will hold.
Last New Year’s Eve, I had a party at my apartment in Oslo. I’d just been traveling in Portugal and Spain for two weeks, soaking in the sun and largely spending time alone. I was really glad that I would be able to see the New Year in with friends. It wasn’t a large party, but it turned out to be meaningful for several of the people who attended (Susie, Ben, Stine, Cathrine, Hilde, and Yannike). Susie brought tarot cards and did a reading for all of us–I remember that we all felt like what she told us really fit what was happening in our lives. And over the last year, Susie and Ben became parents, Stine got a job teaching in Spain, and Hilde bought a place of her own. I’m not sure if ground breaking events happened to Cathrine and Yannike, but I hope their year was amazing. I think about how atypical that party was, how quiet, how thoughtful, how focused on understanding who we were and what life was all about–strange fare for a New Year’s Eve party–but that party turned out to be a fitting beginning for 2009 . . . at least for me.
What has my year been like? My last six months in Norway were filled with adventure and affection for so many people, both those I met on school visits and the good friends who came to visit. I had some incredible experiences including dog sledding, celebrating the National Sami day, eating award winning food with friends in Sandefjord, teaching wonderful students in such places as Bergen and Trondheim, talking with dedicated and smart teachers every where I went, and enjoying my friends in Oslo. I traveled outside of Norway, as well, going to Paris, London, the Canary Islands, and Copenhagen. My year in Norway was stunning, both because of what I’ve listed above and also because of the time it gave me to get distance from every day life and rethink who I am and how I want to live my life.
During the last six months, I’ve been trying to make changes. For years, I had not taken good care of myself emotionally and I hadn’t worked to get out of some destructive mindsets. I’ve been trying to break out of those bad habits in order to embrace life and live more fully. I succeed but I also fail sometimes. Sometimes I’m radiantly happy and sometimes I’m violently depressed. But through it all, I know that I’m changing and growing. I’m discovering new parts of my psyche–and I haven’t allowed my return to “real life” to become a return to the status quo.
So . . . 2010. I hope that I can continue to overcome fears, try new things, be honest about my emotions and about who I am. I suppose that’s my big resolution–to continue the self work that I’ve been engaged in this past year.
This year I celebrated Christmas with my family for the first time in a few years. I didn’t take many photos but here are a few, including my mom in her Norwegian sweater and the family enjoying Rachel’s Beatles Rock Band.
