Making Reading Thinking Visible Through Annotations

Our first major unit in English Language Arts is short story reading. At this point in the year, I don't know a whole lot about my students as readers. I've gotten some info about books they read (or didn't read) over the summer, and I have standardized test scores from the previous spring. However, knowing how they dive into a text and construct meaning out of it is a complete mystery at this point in the year. I needed some sense of these kids as readers before I forged ahead.

The unit started out with a pre-assessment during which students read a story new to them, annotating in the margins as they read (see my previous post about annotations as assessment), and then answered summary, theme, and literary argument questions. As I was surveying these assessments, I noticed a few things about the annotations:

1. Although annotating texts has been taught in previous years, and I emphasized doing it when I was giving instructions, about half of the students either did no annotations or they did minimal annotations.
2. The annotations that were done were often confirming literal comprehension or asking questions about places where they were confused. 
3. The story we chose, "A Path Through the Cemetery" by Leonard Q. Ross, has a twist at the end that is easy to understand if the reader is paying attention to details and can make inferences. Very few students caught the ending correctly and fully.
4. I got a lot of insight about students as readers from the annotations that I didn't necessarily get from the follow-up questions. I discovered who made inferences as they went along, who connected to other texts or the world, who did word fix-up work, and who was confused throughout (and didn't do anything to fix up their confusion).

There seems to be a logical cause-effect relationship in the above noticings: Without annotations, students didn't read closely enough nor pause in their thinking enough to understand deeper meaning. However, I still wasn't sure whether the problem was that students didn't see the point of annotating, and therefore, didn't stop to do it even though they were constructing meaning all along, or that they weren't digging deeply enough in their reading to construct meaning. Without annotations, I couldn't decipher the problem. 

image from Amazon.com

So I tackled both at once, and taught them a strategy I found in Dorothy Barnhouse and Vicki Vinton's What Readers Really Do: Teaching the Process of Meaning Making (Heinemann, 2012). They suggested a two-column note-taking chart that tracked what was said in the text, and what that text meant, or "subtext". The idea is that readers pay attention to not just the literal meaning in the text, but that readers also track the implications: character motivations; what the author is showing about mood, traits, relationships; tone; connections between events and characters, etc. Doing this work gets readers to the deeper levels of inferring and synthesizing that are necessary for more complex texts like those encountered in 8th grade and beyond. Here is an excerpted example from my Reading Notebook which I used as a model for the students:

Throughout the unit, I saw students doing more and more text/subtext work in their notebooks. Some were still using it as a way to restate the literal meaning, but more and more were making inferences from the details they captured. It became a great launching point for conferences because their reading thinking was visible to me.

By the post assessment, a repeat of the pre-assessment but with a new story, their annotations were much more complete and deeper, showing the subtext and not just restating what was already there. Many more students annotated than the first time as well. This allowed them to really dig into the inferred meaning, and their follow-up answers were much richer because of it.

My next step is to have them reflect on how doing annotations helped them understand stories better. I hope that will also bring home the purpose for stopping and jotting, so that they will continue to use it as we tackle more complex texts in English Language Arts, and also in Social Studies.

What strategies do you use to get kids to dig deeper into their reading comprehension? How do you make that thinking visible?

Anecdotal Notes: Still crazy after all these years!

Anecdotal notes-- AAAARGH! You would think that after 30 years of teaching, I would have this beast figured out! I want to capture the important stuff about kids as it happens, but I don't want to spend a lot of time doing it. I also need my system to be organized and easy to use. I want to track data about individuals as well as easily identify small groups with similar needs. Is there one system that can do it all?

I've tried the notebook approach: Each student gets a page in a notebook, and I take notes on that page when I confer or get a new piece of data (like a standardized test score or a reading goal) or have a parent conference. That works pretty well if I'm only going to focus on the individual and his/her progress. It's much harder to see trends across the class or pull together small groups.

I've tried an iPad app called Confer. It seemed like it could hold individual info as well as do the kind of sorting/grouping I was looking for. It also promised a way to match student information with the CCSS standards to track progress and help with standards-based grading. However, the set up took so long, inputting the CCSS and students, and typing on the iPad is so slow for me, that I abandoned that method as well.

For several years I used a card system that was housed in a folder. Each student had a card, but unlike the notebook idea, the cards were taped onto the interior sides of the folder in a tiered manner, so that one overlapped the other, leaving a small portion visible at the bottom. Student names were written on the visible part, and I could use that space to track how often I met with a student. Again, this was good for individual progress, and a better system for making sure I was getting to all students in a timely manner, but still not so good at pulling together groups of common needs. Also, handwriting is slow work!

So this year I am back to technology. Our tech coach suggested using Google Forms as a system. It's not slick and it's not fancy, but so far it's working out. I have a form that lists student names as a "checklist" of answers to "question", a list of my unit names as the checklist answers to my next "question", an open text box to answer the question of Notes, and a final open text box for the question of Items for Next Meeting. As I confer or get data, I select a student name and unit from the checkboxes, quickly type in my conference notes, and capture what next steps will be. This data, along with the date, is gathered in Responses, which can be viewed as a Google spreadsheet.

The advantage of the spreadsheet is in the sorting and filtering it can do that the notebook and flip cards can't. If I want to see all notes on a student, I can sort names alphabetically, and all responses for the student are clustered together.

If I want to see which students need work on their close reading, for example, I can filter out only the Short Story Reading unit, and even find all responses that have the words "close reading" in them. Voila! A small group with similar needs!

So far I don't have many notes on kids because we are just getting started in school. I wonder if the spreadsheet will eventually get messy or bulky and hard to use. I may need to have one for semester 1 and one for semester 2. However, it has fulfilled a lot of needs so far.

Another tech tool suggested by the tech coach was Evernote. I haven't done much exploring with it yet because I'm kind-of into Google Forms right now. So I'm keeping that option in my back pocket as I see how Forms plays out.

What is your anecdotal note systems? Does yours handle multiple classes and large numbers of kids? Can you track individuals as well as filter/sort for small groups?

In the Technology Groove with Google

I am totally in the technology groove these days. I love it when technology tools exactly fit the learning need, and especially when one tool just keeps on giving. This has been my experience lately with Google Classroom, Google Documents, and Lucidcharts.

I'm loving Google Classroom. I set up an assignment, I attach documents, and I give each student a copy of the Google doc to use which is already named and put into a folder for the student and me. No longer are Google docs "lost" because they didn't get placed into a folder. No longer do I get shared on 23 "Untitled Documents" or "Fantasy Story" documents without knowing who it belongs to. No longer do I send out a group email with attachments. Everything is organized and right at everyone's fingertips.

Google Docs is my best friend when it comes to formative feedback. For some reason, giving feedback to 46 documents feels much easier than facing a towering stack of 46 paper notebooks. Maybe it's the sheer weight, or the challenge of bad handwriting, or the difficulty of transporting all those bulky notebooks home that make them feel so intimidating. Maybe it's knowing that I have to take the notebooks away from the students to grade them (not quickly), which means they can't use them in the meantime, that feels bad. Google Docs fixes all those problems. I can dip in and out of the documents several times over the course of the unit, looking at draft work, making suggestions, staying on top of who is completing things on time and who is not, lifting everyone's level without taking their tool away from them to do it. 

image from commons.wikimedia.com

My new friend is Lucidcharts. I first asked students to use them in the fantasy reading unit as a way to track ideas across a longer text: character development, character interactions, setting and plot events, how elements interact. I had some kids who took off with this, adding shapes, color and keys to make everything connect:

When we moved from fantasy reading to fantasy writing, and we got to the planning stage, I casually suggested, "You know, a Lucidchart could be a good tool for this work. Or you can use paper, or make a timeline in your notebook document. But whatever way you do it, please make sure you get it into your notebook so I can see it and give you feedback." Many kids loved the Lucidchart idea and eagerly jumped in and even figured out on their own how to embed the chart into the notebook instead of adding a link. Here's one that sort-of blew me away:

I have to give credit here to our fantastic tech integrator who regularly checks in with us and asks, "So what are you guys working on? Are you interested in adding a little tech to that? Here, let me show you this tool..." All of these ideas came from her. I am not a huge techie, but I can learn new tricks from time to time, and with the sophistication that our students bring to these tools, it is becoming easier and easier to bring technology into my lessons.

What technology tools do you use that keep on giving?

Using Technology to Grade Book Club Discussions

My school has taken the plunge into standards-based grading. Well, maybe I should say: my school has waded in up to its ankles into standards-based grading. We are grading and reporting on a small, manageable number of "categories" related to standards rather than each individual standard. For English Language Arts, we've chunked the standards into Reading, Writing, and Speaking & Listening (Language standards are incorporated under Reading and Writing). So far this semester I have given 3 Reading summative assessments, 1 Writing summative, and 0 Speaking & Listening assessments. 

Luckily, we are finishing our novel unit this week, which includes their third Book Club discussion. This seems like a perfect opportunity to grade Speaking & Listening standards! But without "fishbowling" six discussions (and taking 2 or 3 class periods to do so), how can I fairly assess each group? Getting around and listening to six discussions for 5-7 minutes each may not catch the normally quiet student who said all their "good stuff" while I was with another group. 

image from commons.wikimedia.com

Technology to the rescue! Students recorded their first two discussions using either QuickTime or Garage Band, and uploaded the audio file into a shared Google folder. Last year we tried using the Photo Booth app on their Macs, but the resulting video file was too large to upload. We discovered that audio files are smaller and easy to upload, and really it's the audio we want anyway. 

The first two discussions were formative. Students received the Book Club Discussion rubric before they began so they were aware of what would be assessed. As students discussed (and recorded), I walked around and spent a few minutes with about 4 groups. I coded the discussion so I could have a sense of how it was going: NT- New Topic, Add- Added to previous comment, TE- used Text Evidence, I- interruption, etc. 

If things seemed dire, I would interrupt and prompt the group; for example, "I've been sitting here for a few minutes, and I've already heard three new topics. See if you can stick with one discussion thread for longer so you can really dig deep into your ideas." Then I would listen for a few more minutes and see if they could make the correction. In all cases, before I left I would interrupt the discussion and give feedback to the group: "So here is what I heard while I was sitting here: 'A' started a new topic about ___, and then 'B' added on with some interpretation, and then 'C' brought in text evidence. This was a great way to keep the discussion going. I also noticed 'C' kept talking and never let 'D' have a chance. Make sure you are giving everyone equal air time. That's everyone's job to monitor. If you notice someone hasn't talked, be sure to invite them in. If you know you've already said a lot, hold your thought until others have a chance to speak. If you know you haven't said much, make sure your voice is heard-- you have important things to contribute!" When the discussion time was finished, the group rated themselves and others for the four categories of Prepared, Quality of Speaking, Quality of Listening, and Behavior. They then made a group goal for the next discussion. 

During the second discussion, they reviewed their goal, and repeated the process. I made sure I sat with the groups I hadn't seen the first round, and went back to those that had the most trouble previously. Again, groups recorded their discussion, rated themselves and others, and made a goal for their final one.

Now that students have had practice in recording (we had some tech issues to resolve the first time around), are familiar with the rubric because they used it for reflection and goal setting, and have gotten teacher and peer feedback, they should be ready for the final summative discussion. On Monday they will repeat the process just like they did the first two times. I will walk around, but I will not interrupt or give feedback this time. I want this to be independent, but I can also get info about body language, preparation (do they have their books and notebooks with them?), and behavior which the audio recordings may not pick up.  

Then I can sit down with their self-rated rubrics and listen to full discussions from the audio files. I will be able to catch the quiet kid who is reluctant to talk when I am sitting with the group. I can hear the "good stuff" come up and not just judge the bits and pieces I overhear for a few minutes. Technology allows me to be everywhere at once, which means I can grade each student fairly.

How do you grade Book Club discussions?

Scaffolding too much?

Last spring, literacy consultant Stevi Quate came to our school to work with our secondary English Language Arts teachers. While here, she did a couple of demo lessons in middle school classrooms, and then we MS teachers gathered to debrief with her. At one point in the conversation, she said something like, "I scaffolded too much." I thought that was a curious thing to say, because I certainly didn't think she supported the kids too much, and in fact, I thought she supported them less than I would have. But our time was short and I didn't have time to explore this idea with her.

image from Steve Wheeler on flickr

Since then, I have run across this question of "too much support" again. This article by Terry Thompson of Choice Literacy, "Are You Scaffolding or Rescuing?", got me thinking about the difference between planned scaffolds based on identified student need vs. "an overall pattern of teaching that included an impulsive need to sweep in and help at the slightest moment of difficulty". Thomson argues that rescuing takes away a student's agency as a learner and encourages the pattern of learned helplessness. On the other hand, scaffolding provides only enough support so that the learner can get to the answer themselves. A key question becomes: Who is doing the most work? If it's the teacher, most likely s/he's in a rescue situation. If there is an equal work load, or more on the student, then it is more likely it's a scaffolding situation. This article has really kept me on my toes as I conference with students, and made me watch my modeling, questioning, and level of "work" so I don't cross the line into rescuing.

"Too much support" also came up in Dorothy Barnhouse and Vicki Vinton's book, What Readers Really Do: Teaching the Process of Meaning Making (Heinemann, 2012), which I read recently. They advocate for a constructivist approach to learning, pushing the "Who is doing the work?" idea even further than Thompson. They suggest that teachers ask students to try something, notice and name what they are doing using immediate student work as models, and construct the teaching point from the student's work. Although both are former Teacher's College Reading and Writing Project Staff, they are turning the workshop model on its head. They contend that when the teacher does all the modeling first, students are passively learning the strategies instead of constructing the strategies based on their own application, trial and error, and/or struggle. Suddenly, teacher modeling during the minilesson has become "too much support." 

Barnhouse and Vinton also warn against pushing our own ideas onto kids' reading interpretation. They have noticed many teachers (I am guilty of this too) who hear students veering off in a different direction in their reading comprehension than the teacher's understanding, or ignoring "vital" pieces of text that "should" be attended to, and those teachers jump in, asking a million leading questions so that the students "get back on track"--in other words, the students are led to the teacher's interpretation. The authors suggest that this teaches students that reading has one right answer, and the teacher holds the key. If they know the teacher will lead them to it, why should they do any interpretation work themselves? They can just wait it out, until the teacher rescues them. Instead, Barnhouse and Vinton recommend going with the students' interpretation, scaffolding only enough to ensure they can support that interpretation with textual evidence and inferred thinking, and if they can't, then scaffolding their work to revise their interpretation to something that can be supported. They call this the difference between scaffolding and prompting. Prompting is a series of questions that lead students to the teacher's understanding of the text, whereas scaffolding leads students to notice and name strategies, and use those strategies to deepen their own understanding of the text.

With all this scaffolding vs. rescuing vs. prompting swirling around in my head, Stevi Quate returned to our school last week. Since she is the one who got me going on this line of inquiry in the first place, I asked her to help me understand its implications for my teaching. She did this through a focused observation of my (last period of the day on the last day of the week!) lesson. She transcribed my minilesson, and then interviewed the kids about what I do as a teacher that supports them as a learner. She shared that with me later and we talked about it. Here are some take-aways from that conversation:

• I still have questions about this idea of how much support is the right amount. Stevi even threw in the idea that kids need an appropriate amount of struggle-- another angle that bears investigation.
• Some concepts really don't need scaffolding, or maybe just a touch. In my minilesson, I threw in a quick strategy and had students practice it for a minute because I knew from their notebooks that they were ready (and very close). When I told them the strategy, their faces said, "Yeah, of course", and when they turned and talked, they could apply it easily. Without the quick minilesson, however, they wouldn't have done it. I didn't need to model it, or say my thinking aloud as I did the work, or even write the strategy on the anchor chart because it was so easily within their grasp.
• Some concepts are so new that without the scaffolding and modeling and thinking aloud, students would flail around in a confused manner. Perhaps some would get there eventually, but who has time for that? In my minilesson, I knew my second strategy would be one of those more complex and new strategies, so I took more time with it. I walked them through my process, I modeled, I included active engagement, I got some formative feedback. 
• The feedback from the kids is that almost all of them feel like the models and examples and conferences and charts are very helpful to lifting their level. They feel supported and comfortable in the work they are doing when trying new things in their reading and writing. Except for the one student who really wants more direction (rescuing? prompting? specific directions like, "Put two pieces of evidence in each 5-sentence paragraph"?), the overwhelming majority think the level of support is good.

Over the course of the semester, I am going to watch my "prompting" so that I don't lead my readers to my own interpretations. I am going to watch who is doing the work in my conferences, and back off if it seems like I am doing most of it. I am going to read up on the idea of struggle as a necessary learning force (but when is there too much struggle? Can't it go the other way?). The bottom line is for all students to grow and learn, and it's my job to help them do that.

On-demand Performance Assessments vs. The Grading Load

One of the things I love about teaching writing with a Workshop approach is the opportunity to support students as they are in the midst of independent projects. This just-in-time teaching allows for differentiation, re-teaching, stretching, and confirming. There are often “ah ha!” moments. Workshop also allows the opportunity for creating a community of learners: peers helping each other, sharing with partners, small groups, or the whole class. Taking a risk in such a supported classroom feels do-able, and students make big growth. Often as I grade final projects, I can see the tracks of my teaching—both whole group and individual—reflected in student work. This is very satisfying as a teacher.

CC0 image from pixabay website

On the other hand, as I grade final projects, I wonder how much of the work is their own. How well can they actually do the things I am asking them to do without all the support they get? Where is the line between scaffolding the learning so students can grow, and expecting them to show their learning independently?

Our new units from the TCRWP staff recommend on-demand writing both before and after a unit is taught. Before-unit writing allows the teacher to see what skills students already have and areas for growth. After-unit writing shows what students have learned from the unit. In-between these on-demand writing pieces is the workshop: self-selected independent projects supported by directed teaching, individual conferring, and peer sharing.

Jay McTighe and Grant Wiggins advocate for performance assessments that show transfer of learning goals. In an Understanding by Design (UbD) white paper (ASCD, 2012), they explain the third of their seven key tenets: “Understanding is revealed when students autonomously make sense of and transfer their learning through authentic performance. Six facets of understanding—the capacity to explain, interpret, apply, shift perspective, empathize, and self-assess—can serve as indicators of understanding”.  The words “autonomously” and “apply” jump out at me. They seem to be agreeing with the TCRWP staff that on-demand performance is the only way to see true understanding and learning.

So what do those ideas mean for me as a teacher? And how does grading intersect with these ideas? Although ideally I’d like to teach and assess without putting a grade on a piece of work, I know that is not the reality of school. Grades are supposed to show how well students are achieving the learning standards. We are obligated to communicate a student’s achievement on report cards, and at our school, that means assigning a grade to their work.

If I take McTighe & Wiggins’ and TCRWP’s suggestions and meld them with my grading obligation, ideally my unit should look like this:

1. Before-unit on-demand writing to pre-assess student learning. This would be used by the teacher to inform upcoming teaching, as well as by students to set learning goals.
2. Three to four weeks of workshop during which students work on self-selected independent projects supported by teaching and feedback.  This would be filled with formative feedback as students practice their new skills within the supported environment.
3. After-unit on-demand writing to assess mastery of learning standards and transfer of understanding. This would be a summative grade that goes on the report card.

I have a few questions about this “ideal” unit assessment scenario. First and foremost, I wonder if students will put their full effort into their weeks-long processed workshop piece knowing that it doesn’t “count” toward their grade. Right now, most students will pour over their writing product with a fine-tooth comb, comparing their work to the rubric descriptors, asking questions of peers and me to fix it up to meet the standard. What’s the point in putting in all that effort if that piece of work doesn’t “count” toward a grade?

Second, what if the post-unit on-demand assessment falls on a bad day for the student? This is one of the big caveats to relying on standardized testing data to define student ability: it’s just a snapshot of one day, and maybe that was a bad day for that student. How can one day’s work define the learning of a whole unit? What if the students know more than the assessment allows them to show?

Third, who has time to score three pieces of writing for every unit? I spend hours evaluating student writing as it is, and I’m not doing all the on-demand pieces. I’ve asked this question in workshops, and get the answer that the on-demands (especially the pre-assessment) shouldn’t take all that long because the point is to just get a “sense” of where the student is, not examine it with a fine-tooth comb. Well, maybe that works in elementary where writing is brief, but give an 8th grader 45 minutes to write an on-demand piece and I get two pages typed—single spaced, size 12 font. Just reading the piece takes at least 5 minutes, and then another 5 minutes or so to score, multiplied times 45 students, and I’m looking at a minimum of 7.5 hours. If I’m assigning a summative grade, as I would for the post-unit on-demand assessment, I would probably double that because I do need to examine the writing with a fine-tooth comb.

Could there be a compromise? What if…

1. Only the student uses the pre-assessment on-demand piece to make goals for the unit? Once the student shares those goals with me, I can use them to guide my conferring, and possibly whole class instruction as well if enough students have the same goals. Once the unit gets rolling, I would focus on the work in front of us and not the on-demand anyway when I am conferring with students. This would take one of the 7.5-grading-hour commitments off my plate.
2. The processed piece and the post-unit on-demand each count 50% of the summative unit grade? This would give enough weight to the processed piece that students would want to work hard on it over the three-four week unit, and also show what students can do independently.  It would honor the long-term work as well as the one-day snapshot. I’m still looking at double the grading time, though. That’s still a problem.

It seems there is a disconnect between the “ideal” and the reality of the day-to-day life of a teacher. I’m not sure how to resolve this. Any thoughts out in the blogosphere? How do you handle on-demand assessments? How do you find time to evaluate multiple pieces of writing for the same set of learning standards?

Thoughts About Mentoring a Student Teacher

I hosted a grad student in my class last week. She is a second-career education student who is finishing her last course before her student teaching experience. She visited my class because she needed 10 hours of Observation and Participation. In her 10 hours with me, she observed four hours of my teaching and she taught two 55-minute lessons. The other four hours consisted of break, lunch, planning time and study hall. She was required to plan the lesson she taught (twice) and write a journal reflection on the 10-hour experience. I was required to sign off on the hours.

There were some outcomes from this experience that surprised me. First, she had never heard of the workshop approach to teaching literacy. Her undergrad major was English Literature and Composition, and she is majoring in secondary education, so I assumed she had taken a literacy education course along the way. I know there are many many ways to teach literacy, and workshop is not the usual method in secondary schools, but I would have thought she had at least heard about it. I gave her an everything-you-need-to-know-about-workshop-in-1-minute-or-less lesson so she could understand what she was observing.

Next, she didn't take notes during, or have any questions after, the observation. I wondered what she had gotten out of the lesson. Through our follow-up discussion, she seemed to be impressed with how well the students behaved and how nice the room was and how each student had their own computer to use. These were not the observations of someone about to take over a classroom, clued into the subtleties of classroom management, instructional technique, and creating classroom climate. Rather, they seemed to be those of someone in culture shock.

On the day that she taught, using my lesson objectives and a modified workshop structure, her passion for teaching came through. Like any substitute teacher, she was faced with a room full of students who's names she didn't know, who's personalities and learning levels she didn't know, and plopped into the middle of a unit she didn't know. However, I suggested the kids make simple name cards when they came in, and she used their names during the lesson to connect with the students. She was personable, and seemed to enjoy the content and the students.

We had a debrief between the first and the second lesson. We talked through what went well and where the rough spots were. I helped her consider things such as how to get students' attention back after releasing them to an activity, prioritizing lesson parts when things are dragging on too long, questioning techniques when kids are reluctant to share, and immediate application of learning. The second lesson went better.

When we debriefed the second lesson, she was amazed at how something as simple as an attention cue can make transitions go quickly and smoothly. She said that she was in her last week of her behavior management class, and never had they talked about cues. They talked about making rules and consequences. I shared with her other things I do that contribute to classroom management: seating choices, lesson variety with active engagement, walking around while kids are working and holding kids accountable.

This young woman is eager to get into the classroom and make a difference in children's lives. It was refreshing to see that passion. Sometimes I forget that I was the same way starting out. I was just as nervous and just as ill-prepared to step into a room full of kids. I wonder if teacher prep courses could up their game, however. The accountability piece for this particular Observation and Participation requirement seemed really weak. I've read articles advocating for a medical-student-like preparation course for teachers: classwork followed by internship followed by residency followed by full certification. It is the on-the-ground experience while being mentored by an expert that creates competent practitioners.

I don't think I want to be her mentor teacher for her student teaching experience next year. Not because I think she is hopeless, but because I already have a lot on my plate. I will recommend her to another teacher who would be willing to take on that responsibility. And I wish her well on her journey into the joys of teaching.

"Is this graded?"

After three heavy weekends of grading and reporting, I can finally come up for air. Oh yeah, of course I still have some work to do-- it's never ending-- but this weekend it's about feedback and not about grading, and it's only about 3 hours' worth instead of 10 hours' worth.

Our middle school faculty is doing a book study of Thomas Guskey's Answers to Essential Questions about Standards, Assessments, Grading, and Reporting (Corwin, 2012). We have been having a lot of discussion about formative assessment: what it is, what it looks like, what to do with it once we have it. We are not new to the concepts of formative and summative assessments. We did a lot of work around those ideas about 5 years ago and have been working with it since. It's pretty surprising, then, how much variety we have as a faculty in our understanding and use of formative assessments.

Five years ago, our middle school made a decision to make our grade books consistent by having two categories of grades: formative (weighted as 15% of the whole grade) and summative (weighted at 85%). This change definitely made a big difference in helping our students and parents understand how grades were being calculated. Before this change, some teachers were counting homework as 85% and tests as 15%, others had standards-based categories (for example, world language teachers had categories for Speaking, Listening, Reading, and Writing-- each weighted as 25% of the total grade), and others had categories that included participation and collaboration. The 85%/15% weighting keeps us teachers focused on using grades to show achievement of standards, rather than behaviors (like participation), and keeps the grade reflective of how well the student can achieve on his/her own (summative assessments like tests and performance tasks and in-class projects) rather than practice opportunities (like homework).

This system has been good for teachers and parents, but we are starting to question the value for students. Students have become "trained" to ask, "Is it formative or summative?" when an assignment is given. Teachers infer that students use the answer to gauge how much effort they should put into completing the assignment: not much if it's formative, quite a bit if it's summative. It makes sense, considering the weighting categories, and our students are not fools. They do what they need to do when playing the game of school. (You can tell I am in the midst of a poetry unit! I may be a poet and not even know it!)

According to Guskey, formative assessments are supposed to give feedback to students about how well they are meeting the standard (and hopefully some information about how to get closer) as well as giving feedback to teachers about how to adjust instruction based on where students are in their learning. Bottom line, formatives shouldn't be graded because their purpose is practice and feedback. 

So our conversations about formative assessments have two sides to them: we understand and agree to the concept that they shouldn't be graded, yet we wonder if students will take them seriously if we don't slap a grade on them (even a small one like 15%). 

I think we can get away from grading formative assessments if we do more work re-training our students to view them as learning opportunities in which they get to practice a skill or strategy and get feedback about how well they are doing before the summative assessment. To that end, I have been watching my language when I make assignments and get the inevitable question, "Is this graded?" I am using the phrases "learning opportunity" and "get feedback" more and more often. 

It's been interesting to see how this response affects students. The students who "get it" really do use the feedback to improve their work. I saw this very clearly when I was grading fantasy stories last weekend (one of the 10-hour work weekends I've been having): students who used the rubric to self-assess and make goals asked for help from peers and me when they got into trouble spots, and made improvements based on that feedback. Their summative assessment results placed them squarely in the A-B range. Those students who went off on their own and disregarded my feedback, did not get help from peers, and didn't see the rubric as a tool to improve their writing, sat squarely in the C-D range. 

I have a selfish interest in the "no grades for formative" debates too-- less grading for me to do! I still need to hold students accountable for doing the practice pieces (homework, in-class activities), but a complete/incomplete designation in the grade book can take care of that. As for "formative feedback", that is work I am glad to take on as long as students use it to make improvements before their summative. 

Now I have to get back to giving feedback on poetry analysis annotations. They will want to use it when they write it up for their summative poetry anthology project.

Using Checklists for Self-Reflection, Goal-Setting, and Formative Feedback

We are in the final week of our first CCSS-aligned writing unit: Literary Essays. Throughout the unit, I have been using the student checklists provided by the Units of Study in Argument, Information, and Narrative Writing (Heinemann, 2014). The only modification I made was that I took off the grade level indicator from the top of the checklist. Since we are in the first year of implementation, I did not want students to feel stupid because they were not yet working up to the Grade 7 CCSS expectations at the beginning of eighth grade. Instead of the grade level indicators, I labeled them Semester 1 (Grade 7) and Semester 2 (Grade 8). We will use these checklists again at the end of the year with our Position Papers unit.

CC image from pixabay

I first had students assess their on-demand argument writing piece using the Grade 7 Argument Writing Checklist. They rated themselves as "Not Yet", "Starting To", or "Yes!" for each descriptor under the categories of Overall, Lead, Transitions, Endings, Organization, Elaboration, Craft, and Mechanics. I had also rated their on-demands using the checklist, but I did not share my scoring with them-- I wanted them to think honestly about what they saw they were capable of achieving and where they saw their writing had gaps. I noticed that the students were fairly accurate in their ratings, although they tended to rate themselves higher on some of the more complex areas than I did. I think this is probably because they didn't have a good sense of what the target was yet.

Once that was done, I asked them to choose 2-3 of their "Starting To" areas, and write goals for the upcoming unit. I asked them to target the "Starting To" areas because those were skills they felt they had some competence with, and those were areas that they could see immediate progress and success. Goals that are baby steps-- that lift the level of current writing-- are more motivating than trying to take a giant leap into the unknown and hoping you get there, uncertain where to even start. 

The first bend in the Literary Essay unit focused on writing a Theme Essay. Over the course of seven lessons, students analyzed short stories for theme, wrote their thinking in their reading notebooks, made a plan for the lit essay, drafted the essay, and revised for strong topic sentences, making evidence logical, adding counterclaims, and learning more about internal punctuation. During the course of the daily lessons, I conferred with students, and often used their goals as a starting point for the conference: So, how's your goal going? Can you show me the work you've been doing to improve ___? This helped the students to keep focused on the goal and to keep ownership in the learning process.

On the day the Theme Essay draft was due, students received a new checklist: the Grade 7 and 8 Argument Writing Checklist (the two checklists are side by side, so students can see where they need to go next-- like a continuum). Again, they scored their Theme Essay draft using the checklist, and used it to write some goals to carry them forward to the next half of the unit. I also asked them to do some reflection on their first set of goals by completing this sentence: I used to _____, but then I learned how to ____ by _____. Interestingly, most students chose something that was brand-new to them (e.g., adding a counterclaim, or using logic in their body paragraphs) rather than reflecting on the success of their goals. I guess these were their big new "aha!" skills.

Bend II: The Author's Craft Essay. Last week, students collected author's craft analysis entries in their reading notebooks, and created a plan for their next lit essay draft. They will write with flying fingers on Sunday, using all they learned from the theme essay section in their next draft. They will work to lift the level of this draft by keeping their goals in mind.

But now it's my turn to work with the checklist. I believe that timely, specific feedback does big work in moving students forward. I don't want to wait until their final draft and the summative rubric to give them feedback about what they are doing well and what they need to improve on. I also don't want to tell them "what to fix" in their Theme Essay. As Lucy Calkins reminds me, "Teach the writer, not the writing." My feedback needs to be useful to them as they move into the next essay (and all the rest across this year in all subjects, and beyond) rather than dwelling on the last essay. 

So this weekend I am reading Theme Essay drafts with the self-assessed Grade 7 and 8 Argument Writing Checklist in hand. I am marking with green highlighter what I see they are doing, and where I see they fall in the "Starting To", and "Yes!" ranking, for each descriptor. I am marking 3-4 descriptors as "Not Yet" or "Starting To" with pink highlighter where I think they need to do some work to lift the level to where it should be. Then I am writing next to that descriptor how to do it (if they already knew how to do it, they would have done it already!). I tried to pick descriptors that I knew I'd already taught into, so that I could send them to a chart or model as a scaffold for using the strategy. For example, if I highlighted Transitions, I would write "Use the Thinking Prompts sentence starters as transitions to link your reason, your evidence and your analysis." My feedback on the checklist will also be the starting point for conferences and small group work over the course of Bend II.

The Literary Essay unit ends in five more lessons. By the time they turn in their finalized, self-assessed (yes, once again) essay, they will have used the checklist at least three times: before the unit to set goals, mid-unit to reflect and set new goals, and at the end to reflect on their growth as writers over the course of the past four weeks. I will have given each student two pieces of written feedback (I also wrote comments on each early draft regarding their thesis and topic sentences) and several verbal conferences. Between the descriptors on the checklists and the model texts, students have had a clear target to shoot for, and feedback to guide them along the way. I am fully expecting to see significant growth in their essay writing skills in their final essay.

Confessions of a Struggling Conferer

I have a confession to make: I am a struggling conferer. I'm getting better, but it's still hard for me. I do best with thoughtful, self-reflective students who talk through their process with me, those that have a specific question in mind when I sit next to them. These students listen carefully, are more than willing to try out my suggestions, and show evidence that they are making progress. After those conferences, I mentally pat myself on the back, congratulating myself on my brilliance as a teacher. Yay me!

I'm also not too bad with struggling students who are trying their best. I usually have a plan in mind already when I sit down next to them: scaffolding the day's lesson, re-teaching a previous lesson, or filling in a gap that I know they have. They sometimes squirm and wiggle, giving me the "yeah, yeah, yeah, I get it" message when I know they don't really get it, or try my suggestion and still get it wrong. After these conferences, I tell myself to be patient, that they will get there, that my persistence will pay off in the end. Keep it up, me!

I struggle most with nonproductive students. These are students who are capable and don't have big reading and writing gaps. The work they produce is on the right track, but there just isn't much of it. I touch base with them a lot, checking in on what they've done so far, giving them the "keep going" message. We make plans, which they break more often than keep, so we make more plans. After these conferences, I sigh, and console myself that they did get a bit more done than they would have if I hadn't checked in with them. It's OK, me!

But then I stop and think: what did I really teach them that moves them forward in their learning? Usually the answer is: nothing. Not OK, me!

It's a bit of a Catch-22 actually. I am not sure what to confer with them about since they haven't produced much on which to base my conference. But they won't produce what they need to, at the quality I'm looking for, if I don't confer with them and move their skills forward. And they must be as tired as I am with talking about their work habits instead of their process or product. 

I need to monitor myself when I approach the nonproductive students. What am I talking with them about? Is it moving them forward as a learner or only getting them to get more done during work time? Both are needed. They deserve the same the amount of coaching as the other students. Adding a little reminder at the end, an encouraging "you can do it!" message as I leave, might be all that it takes to nudge them into productivity. And I can leave the guilt at the door.

Reflections on Revision in the Poetry Unit

Big sigh. We have come to the end of our two-month-long poetry unit (first month- reading, second month- writing). I don't know why, but the poetry unit seems to fit so well into the third quarter of school. There is a lot of tough stuff to dig into (assonance, consonance, figurative language, symbolism, allusion), with an overall sense of playfulness and rule-breaking. Students are comfortable with each other in the class and with me, so are willing to write poems from their hearts. As eighth graders, the world of Shel Silverstein is left behind while they tackle extended metaphors by Langston Hughes and Longfellow, the cryptic language of e. e. cummings, and the sound devices of Poe. This mix of challenging curriculum within the context of short accessible texts and manageable writing expectations lifts the confidence and skill of nearly every student in my room.

Students submit two poetry anthologies as their assessments during the unit: a reading anthology of poems they analyze for meaning and music, and a writing anthology of their own poems, two of which are analyzed for meaning and music. Each anthology finishes with a closing statement reflecting on their learning. I learn so much about students from the closing statements: their process, their thinking, their discoveries, and their attitude. As I read closing statements from the writing anthologies yesterday, I was struck by how many students mentioned the value of revising and how the hard work of revision paid off in much better poems. Here is a sampling from the fifteen I read yesterday (names withheld to protect anonymity):

"One of the most important things I learned was that my first draft will never be my final product. After I had written my poem, I initially found it hard to edit and revise because in my mind I felt that my poem was good just the way it was. When I started revising, I was able to make my poems much better"

"I wrote lots of poems this unit, but I only chose a couple to revise and make worth reading. There were lots of different ways I chose to revise. For example one way was to completely scrap the poem and start from the beginning, but still write about the same idea. Another way I revised was to change the line breaks to add or take away emphasis to words. When I was writing poems, I took a lot of time just picking the right words to fit into each line."

"Throughout this unit, one of the biggest things I learnt was that revising will do marvelous things for my poems! Before this unit, I was very lazy and closed minded about revising poems. After I learnt new ways to revise and tried them, I realized that a poem can turn into exactly what I imagined after revising!" 

"The revising process for writing poetry is pretty hard, but once you revise you will get a feeling of accomplishment that you don’t get very much. A good tip of advice would be that not all poems make it through, some poems are not going to work as well as others and some will not satisfy you. I threw away 17 poems because I spent so much time revising them and they didn’t convey the message I was hoping to have them convey. Poetry is hard, but if you write enough you will discover that some topic work better with you than others, and that is when you write a great poem."

"One thing that I think was very cool that I did during this unit, was transforming a first draft I wrote into something completely different and new. My poem: ‘Eyes’, originally was a mentor poem that had a completely different meaning, about how much I liked and also hated blank pages. After some major editing, that simple poem turned into a symbolic poem about life."

"Sometimes, it was hard for me to actually bring myself to go back and edit my poems because I generally thought they were good as they were. By going back on my poems I learnt that revision is really important because even the small changes such as different punctuation and word choice can make a big difference. I also went back and made other changes such as trying to add in different poetic devices, and creating line breaks so change the flow of the poem itself. Doing those sorts of edits really helped me enhance my poems."

"It took a while to come up with these ideas. They all started as mere ideas that had only a bit of potential to be bigger and better poems. Revising them was hard, as at first they seemed like regular poems that couldn’t be changed to make better. Later on, it became clear that they had to be changed. So I worked harder on these poems compared to most of my other poems and they ended up as some of my best work. I learned a lot from this. I realized it’s hard to edit poems to make them a lot better than before. When you first write a poem, you feel like it’s the best that it could ever be, and that you can’t really change it to make it better. After learning multiple techniques of revising poems, it became a lot easier to revise them, as you become more educated in using strategies to change. The longer and harder a poem is worked on, the better it becomes and the more it changes into becoming a better poem." 

I know! I was actually as stunned as you are at the willingness eighth graders had toward revising their poems. Only writers who are committed to their ideas will work that hard to make their writing as good as it can be. This is the first time all year I have seen that kind of commitment, and maybe the only time I'll see it. Poetry is a special genre, and has great power for middle school students. 

I need to end this with a quote from one of my most reluctant (male) writers, a boy with the typical "school sucks" eighth grade attitude, who scoffed at every "try-it" poetry generating idea, who covered his paper as I walked by:

"I have learned that poetry is within everyone and everyone gets something out of it. Like me. I get to write the truth and I get to get happiness out of it. I think that everyone would be more happy if they wrote poetry more in their life and realize what life really is and how wonderful life is just with a little poetry."