It's like this: you're in a forest, with your teachers and also your students. Your teachers say, "Please teach your students about trees. Teach them about trees using the example of an elm." OK, fine, but I really like pine trees, and, well, oaks are good too, and here's a beech, and you know what, none of them has leaves right now, so which one is an elm again? And your teachers say, "OK, but make sure you pick a kind of tree that's right for your students."
This is what I feel like when asked to teach reading comprehension. It's not clear to me what trees, or strategies, will work well. All the trees seem appealing; I want students to love them all equally. That is to say, it's very difficult for me to distinguish between texts and techniques. I know very well that the only thing to do is go in and try it, and get a sense of it for myself. I did dive in, during a lesson that my advisor was observing, and thank goodness she was there because she saved my bacon during guided reading. Whew.
The three teachers I know the best: E, E and A, all have this same clarity of mind. I've seen them all perform magic in front of students, occasionally saving a derailed lesson of mine in the process. I've seen science lessons where, with just a plant in front of him, A has them all on the edge of their seat, asking just the right questions, having just enough discussion, making them think just hard enough. It's art, for sure.
I know it comes from years of experience, and the only way out is through, as they say. It's like being a white belt again: I just have to put my head down and train until I start to have some skills of my own. But in the meantime... the trees. It's tough walking around this forest!!
Showing posts with label reading comprehension. Show all posts
Showing posts with label reading comprehension. Show all posts
Friday, March 15, 2013
Friday, December 28, 2012
Like Shakespeare
Sorry, got caught up in the holidays. So here's a story/thought that's been stewing in my brain for a while. A boy I work closely with, most closely in reading, absolutely floored me on Monday morning of the week before winter break. He came to school in kind of a foul humor, so I tried to jolly him up by starting with a game that we play in the hall: we toss a ball back and forth and call a word or phrase to each other that has to do with the book he's reading. It can be anything; doesn't have to be vocabulary. This helps me see whether and what he remembers of what he's read.
He's been reading the "Ready Freddy" series, and on that day students were supposed to decide how they would present their independent reading project to the class. I didn't really know how to approach this task with this kid, but it needed to be very concrete. Imagine my surprise, then, when on the first toss he says, "Freddy is always nervous at the beginning of the book." Next toss: "Then he gets help from his friends, and he's excited about his plan." And finally, "He is always happy at the end of the book." Wow. Considering that getting this kid to answer questions about what he's read is about as easy as pulling teeth, this sounded to me like he had all of a sudden started spouting Shakespeare.
I found out later that this was basically a summary of a reading conference he'd had with Ms. Lee and another student (also reading "Ready Freddy") on Friday, which made it less out-of-the-blue, but still impressive that he internalized and could produce all of that at an appropriate moment. So, great. I had him write it all down as part of his final project (a booklet; he loves making his own books) before it disappeared from his mind. I also praised him to the skies, of course. I think he felt good about his work, as well he should have. A good first period on a Monday. I told his mom about it at dismissal. Yaay.
The next day, Ms. Lee was going to give an assessment that corresponded to the Common Core standards for reading. I attended the meeting in which this assessment was agreed on; students were asked to write about a character that they had read about in the current school year and imagine being friends with them; kind of a fun assignment.
This boy turned in a blank sheet of paper for this assessment. Let's just leave aside the reasons for that; suffice it to say that this is not an uncommon occurrence for this boy when it comes to assessments. There was another boy in the class who also turned in a blank paper; this boy's particular challenge is writing, so again, not so surprising as an outcome. But my question is this: isn't this as much a writing assessment as it is a reading assessment? How can you assess one without the other, "formally," as it were? Is there a way to do it?
Assessing these two particular students this way indicates a problem, but it doesn't assess their reading ability. This assessment doesn't tell you that one of these boys reads independently for 30 minutes a day, and the other cannot do that at all. It doesn't tell you that they both read (decode) at or above grade level. It doesn't tell you that one of them just made, with some guidance, a major breakthrough in expressing himself concerning his reading comprehension.
Perhaps this assessment served its intended purpose for all but these two students, although this is far from clear. My question is this: how useful is this reading assessment if it is as much about how well a student writes as about how the student reads, or how sophisticated their thinking is about what they are reading? If we rely on writing to inform us about their reading, and thinking, then what happens when writing is a problem? Do we assume they're not reading? That doesn't seem fair.
Happy New Year everyone. More in 2013!
He's been reading the "Ready Freddy" series, and on that day students were supposed to decide how they would present their independent reading project to the class. I didn't really know how to approach this task with this kid, but it needed to be very concrete. Imagine my surprise, then, when on the first toss he says, "Freddy is always nervous at the beginning of the book." Next toss: "Then he gets help from his friends, and he's excited about his plan." And finally, "He is always happy at the end of the book." Wow. Considering that getting this kid to answer questions about what he's read is about as easy as pulling teeth, this sounded to me like he had all of a sudden started spouting Shakespeare.
I found out later that this was basically a summary of a reading conference he'd had with Ms. Lee and another student (also reading "Ready Freddy") on Friday, which made it less out-of-the-blue, but still impressive that he internalized and could produce all of that at an appropriate moment. So, great. I had him write it all down as part of his final project (a booklet; he loves making his own books) before it disappeared from his mind. I also praised him to the skies, of course. I think he felt good about his work, as well he should have. A good first period on a Monday. I told his mom about it at dismissal. Yaay.
The next day, Ms. Lee was going to give an assessment that corresponded to the Common Core standards for reading. I attended the meeting in which this assessment was agreed on; students were asked to write about a character that they had read about in the current school year and imagine being friends with them; kind of a fun assignment.
This boy turned in a blank sheet of paper for this assessment. Let's just leave aside the reasons for that; suffice it to say that this is not an uncommon occurrence for this boy when it comes to assessments. There was another boy in the class who also turned in a blank paper; this boy's particular challenge is writing, so again, not so surprising as an outcome. But my question is this: isn't this as much a writing assessment as it is a reading assessment? How can you assess one without the other, "formally," as it were? Is there a way to do it?
Assessing these two particular students this way indicates a problem, but it doesn't assess their reading ability. This assessment doesn't tell you that one of these boys reads independently for 30 minutes a day, and the other cannot do that at all. It doesn't tell you that they both read (decode) at or above grade level. It doesn't tell you that one of them just made, with some guidance, a major breakthrough in expressing himself concerning his reading comprehension.
Perhaps this assessment served its intended purpose for all but these two students, although this is far from clear. My question is this: how useful is this reading assessment if it is as much about how well a student writes as about how the student reads, or how sophisticated their thinking is about what they are reading? If we rely on writing to inform us about their reading, and thinking, then what happens when writing is a problem? Do we assume they're not reading? That doesn't seem fair.
Happy New Year everyone. More in 2013!
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