Monday, November 26, 2018

Blog #11 Responding to Student Work and Re-Thinking Grading


This weeks reading brought me back to our very first class. We went around in a circle and voiced something we were looking to learn in this course. I said that I wanted to learn how to correct or grade student papers when there are so many mistakes you don't know where to start or where to place priority. Funny how our last reading answered my question; I should have known Christensen would have the answer!

So, to answer past me: do like Christensen and don't grade papers, but rather look for strengths and give sensitive and encouraging feedback. I always love the vignettes about Christensen's students, but I really really love the one in chapter six, about Nathan and the way he progressed from writing one or two reserved sentences to writing a more vulnerable and personal paragraph. Thats amazing, and Nathan's second go at the assignment made me smile. His love of football was palpable in that small piece and that is good writing, even if he had spelling and capitalization mistakes.

I love the way Christensen handles Nathan's writing––giving feedback that pertains to the story being told and then later paying attention to the writing conventions that need to be addressed. Honestly, I don't think I have ever written something, with no correction, that had perfect grammer. I am constantly mixing up the em dash and the comma and at times I have certainly capitalized a word that was perfectly okay with a lowercase letter. This is not even to mention spelling. With this in mind, it would only make sense to address conventions after I have gave feedback on content. After all, I am much more comfortable with content than conventions.

At the end of the day, I understood Nathan's writing. Sure, I noticed the misspelled words and the choppy sentences, but these things didn't get in the way of his message. I still felt smelting when I read his piece. I suppose that is the goal: to engage students in meaningful writing and to watch the way they utilize language––to foster a relationship between the student and the act of writing. The truth is, all students will have a different relationship with writing, one that progresses well beyond their days in your classroom. Some students may write for newspapers, and some may hardly write at all, but they may leave your classroom with a confidence in themselves and what they have to say, and this is important for all people.

I also liked the way Christensen touched on Ebonics/AAVE and their role in students writing. This brought to back to our class a few weeks ago about ELL students and the writing process. It is really just about being understood, and writing in a fashion that suites you and your needs. The student is the subject, the student determines the rigor, not testing platforms.

Turner and Hicks also offered a message that encouraged teachers to not judge but "coach" student in writing. I think this is great because it really further defines your role as teacher: a judge is distant, all knowing, and accusatory, but a coach is encouraging, caring, and forgiving. As mentioned above, I am not the knower of all grammar rules so I should not be the judge. Instead, I strive to be the coach, working with students, figuring things out, exploring new ideas, and holding space for the personal narratives that mean so much to students, peer, and teachers.







Friday, November 16, 2018

Better Late Than Never...A Response to the Resisting ICE Panel Discussion



I think I stand with most people, when I say that the Blood and Soil posters that popped up around campus earlier this semester were pretty alarming. Although it is disturbing, white supremacy groups like this and their propaganda isn't exactly surprising; however, what is rattling is seeing these hate driven messages plopped in the middle of our college campus––a place that I tend to consider a friendly, safe space. What I am trying to say is this: I know these groups exist, but I haven't considered the fact that they could be my neighbors, my classmates, or members of my community.

I was moved by the three speakers that presented and answered questions during the panel discussion, and, although I learnt some things from the presenters, I was left feeling like I had some personal work to do. The truth is, I am not fully versed on what the immigration process looks like, nor do I know too much about deportation and how that system functions. So, I had to do some research, and, although I won't go into detail here, I have a better understanding of what those people immigration and being deported in the US face.

This was a bump in personal knowledge, but what does this mean for my future students and my suture self, as an educator? Well, I have to start by admitting that I did not totally follow what was being discussed during the ICE panel because I did not have the framework to place and process the stories, terms, and timelines being given. If I don't have the framework––perhaps I am along, although I doubt it, in lacking an understanding of this system––then how can I expect my students to understand and grapple with concept of deportation and immigration? Are students not, in a public school, entitled to be educated about their government and its various systems? I think so, but who is teaching it? That isn't a sassy backhanded comment; I seriously don't know––perhaps the history teachers?

I think that for me, the resisting ICE panel discussion reminded me how important it is to have a conceptual framework for information. Information isn't as powerful if it is getting stuck in the middle of mental processing because you don't know where to put it. Students need proper scaffolding to enter into tough conversations like these, and I think that it is important to have these conversations and thus find ways to help students understand what the immigration and deportation process looks like. Who knows, you may even have a student who has personally experienced ICE and may have things to share with your class.

The takeaway for me: students need proper scaffolding, not just to read and write essays and poetry, but also to participate in civic discourse and understand the way certain systems are oppressing them or others.












Monday, November 12, 2018

Blog #10 R.E.A.L Instruction and Artifactual Literacies (Pahl, Rowsell, and Stewart)

In Exit West, Mohsin writes about the calm before the storm, "the foundation of a human life, waiting there for us between the steps of our march to our mortality." I feel as if Pahl and Rowsell are somewhat addressing this calm in their discussion of "artifacts" (of course a "calm" is more an emotion and "artifacts" are things, but I think the message is the same: it is the little things that make up life). They seem to be looking towards all the minutiae surroundings of life and, despite how unassuming they may appear, their potential significance. For them, a scarf can be much more than an accessory; it can be a portal to the past, a simple reminder, or an opportunity for connection.

It is interesting to think about this idea in terms of EL students and the ESL classroom. Often objects, and their significance, have less to do with language and more to do with feelings or human experiences. Inviting students to write about the artifacts of their life can also encourage them to explore their shared experiences or feelings.

For example, I think of my journals; they are so much more than just pages of writing. Each one houses different stories and they each have a different feeling or vibe associated with them. My first journal has a purply blue suede cover, and it houses the story of my first heartbreak and all the tears and experiences that went along with that. If asked to write about that journal, I would write about emotional pain and the importance of friends and family. This could lead to a discussion, or a, "yes, that happened to me too!".

Using a handy acronym, Stewart also writes about connecting the lives of students to curriculum. "R.E.A.L. Instruction" is relevant, engaging, affirmative, and literacy oriented. I think this concept is important to keep in mind for EL students, but could also be applied to your monolingual English students. All students deserve curriculum that is relevant, engaging, affirmative, and, of course, literacy oriented.

What I really enjoyed about Stewart was, what came across as, her love for ELL students. She writes, "we need to ensure that we are learners of our students and their lives." I think that this is really at the heart of teaching ELLs and, really, all students. Schools may be physically separate from other areas of life, but education can not exist in a vacuum; life compliments and sometimes complicates learning, but, regardless, the two can never be fully separated. Honestly, I don't think I would even want them to be.

Life informs learning and learning informs life. I think the balance between the two is really lovely, and, after last weeks guest speakers and recent readings, I think working with and learning from emergent bilingual students can add some real depth and richness to that balance.











Tuesday, November 6, 2018

Blog #9 Language and ELL Students (Fu and Martinez)





"Code Switching can serve as a borrowing strategy by using the native language to fill in English words they don't know; so they can continue their thinking process."
(Danling Fu, 49)

I have always thought about code switching as a necessity for ELL students, and I have always admired people who can move in and out of different languages (even if the transitions aren't super smooth). I have been trying, with moderate dedication, to learn Spanish for the last few years, and it wasn't until reading Fu that I realized my real problem is my resistance towards code-switching (and exposure if we are keeping it real). I would never start a sentence in Spanish that I wasn't sure I would be able to finish in Spanish; I didn't want to sound silly or produce sentences that weren't properly conjugated or structured. I think this has probably stunted my growth and made me a nervous speaker. 

I say this because I think it takes courage to code-switch and to allow yourself to engage with this form of learning––this process. I also think it is natural when you are learning a language to move between a comfort zone and a place that is not so steady. In reference to the above quote, allowing yourself to code-switch allows the thinking process to continue. This reminded me of our first week, the Cameron reading, and her advice to "just begin." I think allowing students to write in their first language and then later allowing them to move between the two languages gives them a place to begin and turns what could seem daunting, writing in another language, into a gradual and natural process.

When Martinez writes, "one way in which linguicism gets upheld in classrooms is when Black and Latinx youth get categorized as English learners, long-term English learners, standard English learners, or the more common catch-all label, "at risk"." I think here he is speaking to the way we sometimes look down on those who don't speak proper English or what we would consider "standard English." This is of course not everyone's belief but we do hear that, "if your in the United States, speak English." I think this really shows no respect for the courage of code switching or the difficulty it takes to communicate a different language.

Martinez is encouraging readers, like Fu, to see those practicing another language as brave and capable people; it doesn't matter if they are in fourth grade. I think both are also advocating for preserving first languages as a means of making sure that students don't loose the richness of that first language. I think this is really important for teaching and for that reason I think it totally makes sense to have kids write in their first language and then gradually move into English, as Fu describes in his book, Writing Between Languages.