Word Work in Secondary School

Having taught in middle school my entire teaching career, I had heard vaguely of "word work" as something only elementary schools do -- you know, with phonics or something like that. It wasn't until a professional development session offered by my district a couple of years ago that I discovered that word work can be done in middle school as well -- and it is very much needed, especially as our populations of English language learners increase and reading scores decrease.

Reading deficits

It always surprised me how many basic phonics and spelling generalizations my students didn't know, such as the silent e for a long vowel sound, removing the silent e to add ing, and doubling the consonant to add ed or ing for a short vowel sound. Many ELLs that came through my classroom over the years struggled with spelling words in past tense ("wisht" for wished, or "wantit" for wanted) and with that pesky silent h ("whith" for with, or "wat" for what).

Oddly, it wasn't just the ELLs who were making such mistakes. There seemed to be an epidemic of pre-teens and teens who could not spell age-appropriate words. The connection between spelling ability and reading achievement is well-documented. If a child does not know common English spelling patterns, as evidenced through their writing, it stands to reason that they are not successfully decoding words with those patterns as they read either, which is affecting their reading fluency and comprehension. And this is compounded by the fact that their vocabulary bank account is virtually empty to begin with. With poor phonics knowledge, they have nowhere to draw from to increase their vocabulary funds or simply to break even when dealing with increasingly more difficult grade-level texts. So these students end up falling further and further into reading deficit.

To frustrate matters, in middle school, there is no room in the curriculum for remedial phonics lessons, no time to teach and reteach students reading and spelling concepts they should have mastered by second grade. The situation seems quite hopeless, but there are ways to make hefty vocabulary, spelling, and reading deposits for our kids.

Word work deposits

When a professional development session introduced me to a few file-folder word work activities, which can be used as 10-minute bell-ringers, in literacy stations, or as small-group interventions, I spent a summer creating my own. Many of them are phonics exercises that tackle the generalizations mentioned earlier, as well as distinguishing between the different sounds that ough, ow, and ch can make, or when to use ie vs. ei. 

Other folder activities tackle reading and spelling at the syllable and word level -- roots and affixes, making compound words, parts of speech. Still others take it to the sentence level, using a cloze reading activity. My favorite activities are the ones that delve into the nuances of English word meanings. For example, look at the words walk and run. There are, of course, many different ways to walk and run, and if you grab a handful of synonyms for each of those words, they all mean something slightly different. Using a "degrees of meaning" activity, students can sort the words on a plot line from slowest (amble, perhaps) to fastest (sprint), with such words as stride, canter, and lope filling out the line in between. Vocabulary activities such as word ladders, completing analogies, and categorical word sorts are also beneficial word work exercises for struggling middle school readers.

How I did this

I spent last summer, as I said, creating word work folders (I think I created about 25) using sticky notes. I used the word work activities as beginning-of-class group work. Each group would take a different folder and spend about 10 minutes working on it together. We made a section of students' interactive notebooks into a Word Work section, and students were responsible for copying down any chart or list of words appearing in their word work activity for that day. My intention was for each group to do one word work exercise each day.

The good news: I could tell that these activities were highly constructive for my low readers. The students were engaged and learning. I was initially concerned that the activities would be too easy for 7th-graders, but, again, I found that there were so many phonics, spelling, and vocabulary skills my students were lacking, so the activities were perfect practice for them.

The bad news: The activities did turn out to be a bit too easy for my pre-AP kids, for the most part, so I continued using the folders only in my on-level class, and even then, I unfortunately did not use them as often as I had intended. I do strongly believe that if I had used the activities more often, I would have been able to see marked improvement in spelling and overall reading. The other negative was that the sticky notes began to lose their stick after so many uses.

How you can do this

My experience with these word work folder activities, and my belief that word work is absolutely necessary in the middle school ELA classroom, inspired me to create a word work product for my TeachersPayTeachers store, and I intend to make more. For this first set, I have compiled 20 word work activities (including all of the activities mentioned above, and more), with clear instructions for students and teachers. Click the photo below to go to my store and see a preview.

And Part 2:

The small details

Here is how I suggest using the product once you print it out:

I cut a small mailing envelope and taped it to the folder to keep all of the cut-out words in. I would laminate the words, and the folders too, if you have the time -- that would certainly help the activities last a long time. I think the most challenging part of managing this would be preventing the little pieces of paper from getting lost. I have used Velcro dots with folder games before, but that takes quite a bit of prep work. In lieu of that, I would assign one person at each group to be in charge of the pieces. Middle school students really love being given such jobs, and they will take it seriously.

One thing I love about these folder activities is that the kids feel like they're playing a game, but they are working on such important skills that benefit them in every aspect of reading. I would love to hear from other secondary teachers who use word work regularly.

Similar products

I have some other products that are great for literacy centers, stations, and interventions:

My Journey Into Adulthood

What do you do again?

In less than a week, I will begin an adventure that takes me out of the classroom and into the district building. In an amazing turn of events, I have been given an opportunity to serve my district as an ELA strategist. Not having done it before, I'm not sure how to explain it when someone asks me, "What do you do?" It used to be easy. Everyone understands, "I'm a teacher." There are no further questions (except when I would say, "I teach middle school"; then the follow-up question would often be, "Why?"). But now, if I am asked what I do and I reply, "I'm an ELA strategist," I expect to get blank looks, followed by the polite, "Ohhhh."

The best I can predict at this point is that an ELA strategist is somewhat of a literacy coach. I will work with teachers at middle schools throughout the district, offering them strategies, assistance, advice, and support. I will help write district assessments, and I will facilitate professional development.

Hits

I am over-the-moon excited about this new chapter in my education career. Here are just some of the things I am looking forward to:
* Walking into a building -- an actual office building -- full of adults. There will be no screaming, no running, no jumping, no gum on the floor or furniture, and no Sharpie messages written on bathroom walls.
* Adult conversations. I probably will not hear "OMG," "YOLO," or "Dead!" worked into daily conversations. I will be able to use normal adult vocabulary without hearing, "You use big words, Miss," or, "What does _____ mean?"
* Adult behavior. We'll all be dressed professionally and will behave in a calm, professional manner, with professional politeness and courtesy. Total professionalism.
* No bells. No need to explain.
* Bladder freedom. I expect that I will be able to use the restroom at times other than strictly 10:53 and 12:22.

Misses

And here are some of the things I will miss:
* Walking into my very own classroom -- a classroom I built into a community of eager, smiling kids.

* Conversations with my kids. Once you get to know your students, they truly become your kids, and talking with them is fulfilling, often awe-inspiring.
* Acting silly. I have taught class dressed as a witch, worn a propeller hat, danced around the classroom, taught in bare feet, taught in silly accents -- and it was so much fun. Basically, I got to be a kid again and relive my middle-school years (without being bullied). It was magnificent.
* Bells. Interestingly enough, the bells meant a schedule, and I operate well on a planned-out schedule. The bells were an audible reminder of what's next and that the day was progressing.
* I will not miss bladder constriction.

A whole new world

As you can see, it's a little bittersweet. All of the things I'm looking forward to have the corresponding flip-side of things I'll miss (except the restroom thing -- seriously, you can tell I'm old by how excited I am to be able to use the restroom as often as I need to). I look forward to blogging about my transition to this adult world -- an adult world from which I have been on hiatus since I worked in a corporate profession eight years ago. It will be especially interesting for me to observe how I handle leaving the classroom and working closely with teachers instead of students.

Am I ready for this?

...TO BE CONTINUED...

The Summer 15

WARNING:
The following presentation contains images that may be disturbing to some readers.

Empty promises

Every school year, around April or May, I start making promises to myself. You know the ones: I promise not to sit around and be lazy this summer. I promise not to eat junk food all summer. I promise to get off the couch and be active -- maybe even exercise!

I make these promises with every intention of keeping them. After all, it's to my advantage to keep them, if only so that I can fit back into my school clothes when August rolls around. But every school year, around June 4, I rediscover two things: 1. I'm exhausted. 2. I like junk food. And the promises are long forgotten.

Reality

It's fun to think about the differences between how I imagine my summer will be and how it actually is; I should create one of those humorous memes for that. In April or May, I imagine skipping merrily through a field of flowers, running around at the park with my kids, going on a fabulous beach vacation, and eating fresh farmer's market fruits and vegetables, all so that I can wear short shorts in public without scaring people. But in June -- and especially by July -- there are no fields of flowers (all dead from the heat), I don't run and it's too hot to go to the park anyway, I have no money for a fabulous beach vacation, and the fruits and vegetables don't make up for all the ice cream, cheeseburgers, and cupcakes I indulge on during the summer.

So what really happens is that I come home, throw all my personal school stuff I had to bring home into storage (behind the couch), and sleep for a few days. Then I set up my nest on the couch:

And I only get up for emergencies.

Hence, the title of this blog post. It has become my routine to gain about 15 pounds every summer, and I blame The System. You see, they keep us teachers so overworked and stressed from August to June that when we have our few weeks off, we need some serious recovery and rehabilitation. My rehab consists of:
* the aforementioned ice cream, cheeseburgers, and cupcakes
* donuts (I've had 4.25 donuts today alone)
* restaurant food at least three times a week
* pizza
* chocolate ... lots and lots of chocolate

Good, bad, and ugly

Now, I have decided to embrace The Summer 15, and here is why: I get a new wardrobe every summer since my old clothes no longer fit. So why fight it? The good news is that I usually lose those 15 pounds within the first six weeks of the school year. The bad news is that the longer I teach, the more comfortable I become, making it difficult to lose the weight since there is much less stress and starvation than there was when I was a rookie. Sure, it would probably be a good idea to stop eating so much junk and to get off this couch for a minute, and I'm sure I'll try to do that ... tomorrow.

Get the Most Out of Revising and Editing in the Classroom

The writing process

For years, I taught the writing process the way I was taught to teach it -- as a linear process in which revising and editing is a final step before publishing. I helped students learn how to revise and edit using mnemonics: ARMS and CUPS. I sent students through revising and editing stations, in which they used various colors of highlighters, sticky notes, and red pens. And I relied heavily on checklists.

It all sounds great and thorough, but regardless of how well I thought I was teaching revising and editing, nothing great ever came from it. Students would proclaim that they were finished, waving their paper in the air with pride. Upon first glance, I would see very few editing marks on their paper. Upon closer inspection, I would see at least 437 unfixed errors staring back at me. "Did you complete each item on the checklist?" I would ask. "Yes," they would reply, showing me their checklist, with every item checked off, as proof.

This exchange happened all too often. They weren't really editing or revising very much. Why not, and what was I doing wrong? I set out to find a better way to teach this process.

The real writing process

First of all, I decided I needed to dispose of that ridiculous idea that writing is a linear, step-by-step process, because it absolutely is not. It is more of a spiraling, repetitive, circular process in which revising and editing happen continually. I made this point to my students in a dramatic show of having a student take down the poster of the Steps of the Writing Process and tear it up in front of the class. Then I displayed for them a revised one that I created myself. I cannot find the original document I created, but it showed the writing process as circular, not linear, and it showed that editing and revising occur during each and every step, not just at the end. I stressed to students that as they are brainstorming, as they are organizing their ideas, and as they are drafting, there is revision happening, even before they put words on paper.

Better than a checklist

Then I showed them a method of revising and editing that I discovered after searching and sifting through the innumerable checklists and cutesy mnemonic devices available online. It is called C-D-O (Compare, Diagnose, Operate) (De La Paz, Swanson, & Graham, 1998). Using this strategy, students read their piece of writing one sentence at a time. After reading a sentence, students will Compare it to what they meant to say. Then, they will choose a Diagnose card that best matches what is wrong with the sentence. Finally, they will choose an Operate card that expresses the best way to fix what is wrong with the sentence.

When I introduced this strategy, I started with a small group during writing intervention. Each student in the group had a set of C-D-O cards and an essay they had been working on. They were at different stages in the writing process, and all were struggling readers and writers who were also English language learners. Each of them had the "Miss, I'm Done" disease (the ailment that causes students to skim a piece of writing, make a mark or two, then wave it around proclaiming it perfect, when in actuality there were still 437 errors present in the writing).

The results

When this small group of students used the C-D-O method of revising and editing, I watched them slowly and purposefully read each sentence of their essay aloud, one at a time. I watched them think carefully about the sentence, sometimes reading it multiple times. I watched them handle the task cards as though they were engaged in a card game, mindfully choosing the correct ones each time. Then I watched them mark up their papers in intensive revision, smiling with pride at how well they were doing with their essays. During this one day, I saw the most meaningful revision and editing I had seen in seven years of teaching. When we ran out of class time, all four of my intervention students wanted to take the C-D-O cards home with them so they could finish working on their essays.

And I was sold. What I love about the C-D-O strategy:
* The tactile element keeps students engaged.
* It forces students to slow down and read one sentence at a time, which means they are evaluating and thinking deeply about each and every sentence in their writing.
* It results in more meaningful revision and editing.
* It is easy for students to do.
* It is especially beneficial for ELLs.

How you can do this

While the C-D-O strategy has been around for at least 18 years, I just discovered it a little over a year ago, and all the teachers I have asked have never heard of it. Furthermore, it is difficult to find much about it online. I think that is a crying shame, so I created a product for TeachersPayTeachers to help other ELA teachers use C-D-O. I am not taking credit for the strategy itself, but I have created documents to show teachers how to use the method with their students. My product includes instructions for teachers, explaining how to model the process for their students; instructions for students to use after the initial introduction to the method; Diagnose and Operate cards teachers can print out and laminate for their students; and a progress monitoring sheet to help teachers track their students' writing progress.

Check out my product here:

Make Restroom Breaks Work for You

When I first started teaching, I never would have thought that one of my biggest challenges would be restroom use -- I mean students wanting to use the restroom, not my own restroom use (although admittedly that is a challenge, since we have to set our bladders on strict timers -- teachers know what I'm talking about).

In middle school, we have a limited amount of time with each class, and every moment is critical. We want students to use their passing periods to take care of personal business rather than leave class to do so. But year after year, this has been a ridiculously huge battle for me. I know I'm not alone, because I just read something I found on Pinterest about teachers' biggest pet peeves, and students asking to go to the bathroom during class was a popular one.

If ya gotta go...

Now, I know many teachers who take a hard-line stance: Absolutely no restroom during class! They have it posted on their classroom doors, and they puff out their chests and snap their fingers as they proclaim themselves bathroom goddesses. Maybe that works for them, but it doesn't work for me. One year I had two students wet themselves during class -- and I wasn't even being strict. In one case, I didn't even know the student needed to go; she shyly raised her hand, and by the time I took the four steps over to her desk, she had peed her pants. In the other case, when the student asked to go right in the middle of direct instruction, I said, "Now is not a good time; can you wait a few minutes?" She nodded; then the next time she raised her hand it was to tell me she had had an accident.

There is no way I want accidents like those happening in my classroom, so I am not about to take a militaristic stance on restroom breaks. But it is quite the conundrum. In middle school, we want to teach students responsibility, time management, respect of rules, maturity, and so forth, but we do not want to seem cruel and uncaring, we want our students' basic needs met so that they can learn, and we do not want to upset parents.

Never-ending battle

My worst experience in the bathroom battle was not the year of the accidents; it was just this past school year in my last class of the day. Let me just explain that I had two pre-AP classes and one on-level class. In the pre-AP classes, students rarely asked to use the restroom during class; but in that on-level class, it was ridiculous -- kids asking to go every few minutes, from the beginning of class to the end. To make matters worse, there were three students in that class with medical conditions and nurse's orders to let them go any time they ask (plus another girl who loudly protested that her mom told her she could just walk out if a teacher didn't let her go). In middle school (as I'm sure it is in elementary), this is a recipe for restroom disaster because when you let one student go, half the class immediately "needs" to go. It got so bad sometimes that I often found myself fed up, saying, "No! That's it! Fifteen people have asked to go to the bathroom in the last five minutes, and I'm not having it. No more restroom!" And that, of course, is unfair to the quiet little girl who never asks but now has to go.

Before you ask, I'll tell you that, yes, there were rules and parameters for classtime restroom use. If someone asked me right in the middle of direct instruction, while I was giving explanations for an activity, or during a quiz, I would say, "Now is not a good time; you need to wait ___ minutes" (except for those three girls with medical conditions, who I had to let go no matter what; meanwhile the other students were like, "Why are you letting her go, and not me?"). They also had restroom passes that were good for a certain amount of uses per nine week term. But even if they lost theirs or ran out of spaces on theirs, I wasn't about to have kids wetting their pants in class, so I would let them go if I deemed it a genuine emergency. It's all a judgment call that is so difficult to make when you want to make the most of class time but don't want angry calls from parents who think you're inflicting cruel and unusual punishment on their babies.

A solution

By March (and I kicked myself for not thinking of this earlier in the year), I had had enough and came up with a plan. I thought, if so many students are going to want to go to the restroom during class, I am going to make it worthwhile. I created STAAR-style test questions using excerpts and brief reading passages. If you want to use class time to go to the bathroom, sure, I'll let you go -- but first, you are going to read this passage and answer the question!

Boom! This did two things for me:
* It allowed me to stop fighting the bathroom battle.
* It gave me a couple of minutes of one-on-one intervention time with students. Let's be honest -- the kids who ask to go the most are usually your low kids. So now these kids were getting some extra reading comprehension practice each time they asked to go.

The way it worked was: A student would ask to use the restroom. If the timing was acceptable, I would say yes, and I would drop a test-question slip on her desk. She would read the passage and answer the question, underlining her text evidence. When she was done, I would go over it with her. If she got it right, she got immediate passage to the restroom. If she got it wrong, I would work on it with her, guiding her toward the correct answer and discussing why her answer was incorrect. Then she could go to the restroom. Some of my lowest students were getting this "intervention" a few times a week.

Positive results

You may be wondering how students reacted to this. It became routine. They knew to expect it. Many of them actually liked it, and for a brief period I had to deal with a few students asking to go to the restroom just so they could do one of the practice passages. Crazy, I know. But what better way to make use of the overabundance of "Can I go to the bathroom" askers?

Now, I cannot be sure if this practice had anything to do with the final STAAR results, but here are some of my observations:
* One of my dyslexic students who routinely scored low on district assessments passed the reading STAAR this time.
* Another one of my dyslexic students did not pass, but she nearly doubled her raw score compared to the previous year.
* One of the most frequent restroom users passed the reading STAAR for the very first time.
* Another frequent restroom user passed the reading STAAR and exceeded growth over last year.
* Others, whether they met standard or not, met or exceeded growth, some of them doubling last year's raw score.

How you can do this

Creating the passage slips took time, but it was easy, considering all of the resources available for finding reading passages. I used newsela.com for nonfiction passages and our literature textbook for fiction passages. Plus, I've had a lot of practice creating STAAR-style questions. I created 25 or so questions and made multiple copies of each, so my stack of slips lasted the rest of the school year. Now, if you would like an easy alternative, I created a set for TeachersPayTeachers. For this, I had to write all of my own passages to avoid copyright infringement, and I created 45 slips. If you would like to check out the product, click on the picture below:

Why Paired Assessments are Positively Awesome!

Gotcha!

Usually, when we administer a test in class, perhaps at the end of the week or after a unit of study, it is solely for the teacher's benefit. It gives us a snapshot of our students' level of mastery; it allows us to see what concepts we need to spiral back into our future lessons; it shows us whom to target for interventions; and sometimes, admittedly, it simply gives us a major grade for our grade book.

Those all are valid and meaningful reasons for giving an assessment, to be sure. However, truthfully, the students don't benefit directly from these tests, at least not immediately. For them, a test is added pressure, it's a "gotcha," it's a confidence-zapper, it's something to tarnish their report card, and, of course, it is a boring obligation with no real incentive attached.

I always hated testing days just as much as my students did -- I have to play Police Officer: The Quiet Police, The Eyes on Your Paper Police, The Nothing On Your Desk Police, The Why Didn't You Study Police. And then I spend my conference period lamenting over failing grade after failing grade.

A better way to test?

I began to wonder if these tests were worth the trouble, and couldn't there be a better way to achieve what I wanted? Sure, there are many ways to assess students, and I use other assessment methods often. But the traditional paper test is a necessity, at least every once in a while. Still, I wanted something more, something better. And I found it.

During my graduate school program, I came across an idea in a book (and I'm sorry to say that I cannot for the life of me remember which of the 200 books I found this idea in): paired assessments -- or allowing students to take a test with a partner. When I read about it, I thought fleetingly, Hmm, maybe I'll try that. And then I thought of all the things that could go wrong: One partner will do all the work while the other just nods and smiles; it will become loud and very un-testlike with students talking to each other; it will turn into everyone talking with everyone rather than just pairs talking to each other -- and because of all of those things, the test scores will be invalid and worthless.

The first time I tried this method of testing was a couple of years ago with a 7th-grade ELA class, and all of those things did happen, so I felt like it was a bit of a disaster. In hindsight, I identified some things I did wrong: I had had the desks arranged in groups of four all year long, and for the paired assessment, I didn't change the arrangement; I simply placed folder dividers in front of each pair. That wasn't good enough, because, as predicted, the pairs at each foursome did not keep their conversations strictly between themselves. Another thing I did wrong was I did not spend time to purposely and intentionally pair students who I felt would work well together; I just kept them in the groups they had been in, whether they worked well or not. Finally, I also did not prepare the students for this new and unusual method of testing; I just sprang it on them without giving them any rationale or parameters. Big mistakes -- you'd think I was a rookie.

Take 2

So last year I decided to try again. This time I was teaching at an all-girls leadership academy (a big plus for reduced behavior issues) and two of my classes were pre-AP classes (another huge positive). I made some changes to how I administered the paired assessment:
* First, I spent an evening poring over my rosters and deciding who should be paired with whom. I also gave students some say in this, because I wanted them to be in these pairs for a few weeks; therefore, they needed to be sitting with someone that they felt they could work well with. I gave everyone an index card and asked them to write down up to three names of students they wanted to work with and (only if needed) names of any students they felt they simply could not work with. I used their selections to help me make my decisions on pairings, but I also used my own judgment as well as past testing data.
* I put students in their pairs at the beginning of the unit, so that they would work with their partner for all of the unit activities and develop a strong partnership before the test.
* I kept the desks arranged in pairs (NOT groups).
* I told them from the beginning of the unit that they would be taking the test with their partner, and I explained why I wanted to do it this way, and I explained in very specific terms what I expected from them. I also explained that the grade they earned on the test would apply to both members of the pair.
* During the few weeks of the instructional unit, I reminded them verbally about the upcoming paired test as well as keeping it on the board as a visual reminder.
* The day of the test, I allowed each pair to study and reminded them about my expectations.

Success!

And now we get to the good part, the reinforcement, the proof that this method is fabulous. Here is what I saw during the test (For privacy concerns, I somewhat crudely covered up their faces, but I wish you could see their expressions!):

Here is what I heard during the paired test:
* Amazing collaboration between partners
* Justification of answer choices
* Respectful debate when partners disagreed on an answer
* Going back to the texts or using the dictionary together and fully discussing the questions and answers together

And these things didn't just happen in my pre-AP classes; they also happened in my on-level class. I walked around, watching them and listening to their conversations, and I must have had a goofy smile plastered on my face the entire time. I was so pleased with what I was seeing and hearing.

Proof is in the pudding

The real proof, though, is in the results, right? The most obvious evidence that this method is fabulous was in the results of one pair in my on-level class. (I've changed the names for anonymity.) Maria was an underachiever who had been removed from pre-AP and placed in regular ELA. Her grades were generally failing grades because she rarely turned work in on time, if at all, and her performance on tests was always mediocre at best. I paired her with Allison, a target intervention student who had never passed a reading STAAR (our state's standardized test) or a district reading assessment; she was reading at least two grades below level. I put them together because I felt that being able to help Allison would increase Maria's confidence and motivation, and Allison would of course learn from Maria but would not close down because she was so outgoing that she could match Maria's spunk with no problem. The two of them did work well together, and they earned an 83 on the test -- a higher grade than either of them had earned on any assignment so far that year.

Overall, most students did very well on that test. There were only a few pairs who didn't pass, and they were given opportunities to correct their answers after small-group interventions in class. One pairing, I discovered, was a mistake -- an all-A's student who was shy paired with an academically low student who was quite the opposite in personality -- and their grade was dismally low. I gave each one the opportunity to redo their test individually.

Increasing student achievement

What I loved about this paired assessment, and why I want to do this more regularly in the future, is simple: It benefits the students. It is not just a "gotcha," or a grade for the grade book. My students were collaborating and actually learning from each other during this test. They were using listening and speaking skills as well, as they had to really listen to each other and consider their partner's opinions, and they had to justify their responses to each other. This is a huge benefit to English language learners and those with learning disabilities. This method of testing also gave students a noticeable confidence boost. They were not as stressed out about it as they usually were with traditional tests; they recognized just as I did how well they worked with their partners, and they were proud of that -- not to mention they enjoyed it (How many times do you see a student actually enjoy taking a test?); and they were thrilled to see their good grades. I saw partners high-fiving each other and celebrating together. I saw them apologizing to each other for the questions they missed, afterward launching into a renewed debate about why they answered the way they did.

All in all, I see so many benefits to this type of testing. I know that it cannot be the only method used, but it certainly can be an oft-used tool in your teacher toolbox. If you've tried paired assessments, I'd love to hear what your experiences were, and if you haven't, I challenge you to try it -- then let me know how it goes!

Please, Take the "Silent" Out of SSR

"Fake Reading" -- What?

While perusing Pinterest, as I tend to do all summer long, I came across an anchor chart that an elementary teacher made for her students, titled "Real Reading vs. Fake Reading." On the "Real Reading" side were such things as quiet and sitting still, and on the "Fake Reading" side was written talking, moving around, and exchanging books before finished.

I wanted to scream out loud at the little screen on my phone, "Nooo!" No wonder children begin to despise independent reading time toward the upper elementary grades. Teachers are sapping all of the excitement and fun out of it. Reading is a social activity and should be treated as such. It's very much like watching a movie. When you go see a movie, you want to share your reactions to the characters, the dialogue, the action; you want to ask questions and interject your opinions -- before, during, and after; you want to point out things that are interesting, things that are new, things that don't make sense. And what's the first thing you do as the credits roll and you and your companions stand and stretch? You unload all of the details about why you did or did not like it, you ask each other what they thought, you recall favorite parts, you connect the film to other things.

Kids should be doing all of these things before, during, and after reading as well -- yes, even during Sustained Silent Reading. Case in point: In my middle school classroom, when students are reading independently and the room is completely silent (by force), I look out and I see boredom, disengagement, fatigue (with the few exceptions being those avid readers who will read anything anywhere no matter what). But the first time I allowed some talking and movement during SSR (and when I say "allowed," I mean that I was too tired to fight it), what I saw was amazing. Students were excitedly sharing what they were reading with the people sitting next to them. They were laughing out loud and commenting on things they were reading. They were trading books when they realized that what they picked from the shelf was not to their liking. They were actually interacting with reading.

Free Reading

Janice Pilgreen (2000) determined that there are eight factors that make SSR implementation successful, and one of those is an environment in which reading is treated as a social and interactive activity (Fisher, D., 2004). Any teacher will tell you that the more children read, the better their vocabulary, comprehension, writing, and of course the almighty test scores. But don't forget that the most important reason to incorporate time for independent reading in class is to increase students' enjoyment of reading. We don't want kids to see reading in class as a chore, or even an assignment. We want them to enjoy it. In order for that to happen, it needs to be free reading. Truly free reading should include the following things:
* Students are free to choose what they want to read (and don't want to read -- yes, let them go exchange their book if they discover they don't like the one they picked).
* Students are free to get comfy. Let them stretch out, sit on the floor, lean against the wall -- whatever makes them comfortable.
* Students are free to interact with their reading and others. If what they are reading inspires them to draw or doodle, let them do so. If what they are reading spurs reactions that they want to share with others, let them talk and share.
* Students are free to choose how to respond to the text for accountability. Instead of requiring a one-size-fits-all reading log or book report or multiple-choice questions, provide a menu of after-reading activities that accommodate multiple interests and talents (art, music, technology, writing, presenting, acting, etc.).

Reading Is Not a Silent Activity

My own sons were practically born with their noses in a book. They love to read with me and without me. When my older son was turning 7, he actually asked if he could have his birthday party at the library. He is 12 now, and I hate the thought that his school's or teachers' practices may soon drain him of his enthusiasm for reading. I try to keep the love alive at home by reading the same books he is reading, and then we can swap opinions about them or watch the movie if there was one made based on the book. He encourages me to read books that he has read, and I encourage him to read books that I think he would like. I truly hope his teachers are doing the same thing -- for him and for all of their students.

After my experiences in the classroom, research I have done on the subject of SSR, and my experiences with my own children, I will never again put my foot down and demand no talking during independent reading time. Reading is not a silent activity; perhaps from now on we should consider calling it Sustained Social Reading.

If You're Not Having Fun, You're Not Doing It Right!

I learned very quickly that a little humor goes a long way in the middle school classroom. And that you simply can't avoid it. Pre-teens are hilarious, so you may as well go with it.

La Cucaracha

Anyone who has ever known me knows that I am scared to death of giant cockroaches. They are creepy, crawly, disgusting creatures, and if there is one anywhere near me, I am so out of there. Students have seen me stand on a desk, fly to the other side of the room, run down a hallway screaming, and even bribe kids with candy to come kill a giant roach. Now, please don't think I'm weak. I can handle snakes, spiders (well, maybe not giant ones, but whatever), all kinds of creatures -- but cockroaches are clearly the work of the devil.

A few years ago, I had some 7th-grade students who took advantage of my roach hatred to have a little fun. I can look back on this incident with adoration now because enough time has passed. It must have been near the beginning of the school year, because my desk was still somewhat clean, but I already had a great relationship with my kids because I looped from 6th to 7th grade and already knew these kids. Anyway, one morning, as I was welcoming students into the room, an organized clan of three deftly slipped a live cockroach onto my desk. You gotta hand it to them -- they were quite clever. One of the perpetrators had obtained the cockroach at her (yes, her) home and placed it -- live -- into a Ziploc bag. She then transported it with her on the school bus and into the building. The group then schemed to distract me while the leader delivered the Devil in the Ziploc bag to my desk.

After the morning greeting and smiling and hand-shaking was done, I glided merrily and worry-free to my desk to begin taking attendance. When what did my peripheral vision behold but a giant cockroach in a Ziploc bag (thank heaven they did not release it from the bag!), perched precariously at the edge of my desk, obviously ready to attack.

Needless to say, I screamed, jumped five feet back, and darted to the other side of the room, heart pounding madly. All the while, the entire class was doubled over in laughter. To her credit, the female perpetrator did zip to my side to check that I was not having a heart attack before commencing her own laughter. And I guess that my reddened and frowning face spoke volumes, because she quickly seized the bagged cockroach and disposed of it in some faraway trash can.

The point of this story is twofold: While it sounds like a nightmare scenario, sure, I am touched that my students felt close enough to me to dare such an outlandish prank. I also admit to enjoying planning my revenge. (I knew that one of the perpetrators was deathly afraid of clowns; sadly, with the busy chaos that is the seventh-grade school year, my evil plans never came to fruition.) Secondly, I feel strongly that such distractions are necessary from time to time. Although I don't recommend involving cockroaches, a little laughter and silliness is a must.

La Cucaracha Part 2

Fast-forward a few years, and we come to a different kind of La Cucaracha, with not roaches, but dancing. I cannot take credit for the idea -- I read about it somewhere and decided to try it. I read about a teacher who, when things got tense in the classroom, settled stand-offs with a dance-off. Sounds crazy, right? Perfect reason to try it.

I was feeling a bit desperate due to a certain student in a certain class. This was a student who ran hot and cold. She was either in such a nasty mood that she would blow up at the slightest thing, or she was in such a good mood that she would disrupt class and not allow any work to be done. As she was most often the former, I began to walk on tiptoe around her because I didn't want to set her off. She would often put her head down and refuse to work, then snap at me if I even looked in her direction. Of course, over the course of the first quarter, there had been phone calls home, private chats with the student, referrals to the counselor, detentions, etc. But nothing -- I repeat, nothing -- worked better than the dance-off.

On one particular day, this student was in one of her hot-mess moods, and I did not have the patience for it. I felt my blood pressure rising as the student displayed her disrespect one time too many. There was that split second when I knew that I was about to lose it, shout, say something I would regret. But somehow in that split second, I remembered the dance-off guy I had read about, and I resolved to do this as a last-ditch effort. I took in a deep breath, I placed my hands on the corners of her desk, and I said, " All right. I didn't want to have to do this ..." The class became silent and the student's eyes widened in fearful anticipation. "Clearly we are at an impasse. And we are going to have to settle this with ... (pause for dramatic effect) ... a DANCE-OFF!"

The student was thrown for a loop. The scene played out in slow-motion: A confused student who didn't know whether to continue being a miscreant, to talk back in defiance, or to rejoice in the turn of events. And every emotion played over her face until finally, her face widened in an excited smile.

At this time, I became nervous for a multitude of reasons, not the least of which was that I really hadn't thought about what the results of the dance-off would be. How would we know who the winner was, and what would happen if she won, and how would this actually solve the problem? And above all, what if an administrator walked in during the dance-off? I actually started scheming ways to get out of it. But only for a minute, because what I found was that the entire class was now angelically behaved, eager to get to the last five minutes of class, when the dance-off was to take place. Even Hot Mess student was changed -- it was like I had just opened a window into her soul, releasing the negative Hot Mess feelings and replacing them with joyous Hot Mess feelings. And I decided that really was the point of the whole thing anyway, to alleviate the tension between me and Hot Mess, to keep me from exploding at her and ruining any chance I had of gaining her trust and respect.

Finally it was time for the dance-off. I cleared some space in the center of the room. Hot Mess stood at one end of the center, I at the other. We stared each other down. And then I twirled like a ballerina and leaped across the dance floor. Applause or roaring laughter -- I don't remember which -- filled the room, and I nodded soberly for Hot Mess to take her turn. She did something spastic with the shaking of things that I did not comprehend, and then it was my turn again. I summoned M.C. Hammer, recalled the glory days of Moonwalking and Robocopping. Again, raucous applause (or laughter), and I knew in my heart I had won.

And the thing is, I really did win -- maybe not with my stellar 40-something-year-old dancing abilities, but with capturing kids' hearts. Because I can guarantee that none of those kids had ever had such a thing happen in an ELA class (or any class), and all of my students (even the shy ones) were smiling, laughing, enjoying themselves -- especially the ones who were taking video, but whatever. I made a complete and utter fool of myself, but in doing so, I let Hot Mess know that I cared about her, I understood her, and that I wanted happiness in my classroom. And while this one silly event did not magically fix all problems, it allowed me to turn a corner with Hot Mess. She opened up more to me and we began to communicate better. I also learned that I really need to work on my rhythm.

The Joke's on Me

Humor and fun isn't always orchestrated. Most of the time, it just happens. Like the time I overheard a conversation (between a group of Mexican students):
Student 1 -- When is Cinco de Mayo?
Student 2 -- Cinco de Mayo? Oh, that's sometime in September, maybe.
Student 3 -- What! You don't even know when Cinco de Mayo is? (Student 3 admonished the others but never clarified exactly when Cinco de Mayo is. I decided to just laugh inside and let them continue their conversation.)

My favorite funny times are those things that only I know about. One year early in my career (but late enough that I was feeling confident that I was an awesome teacher), my students were working quietly, and I was walking around the room helping individuals, and one sweet little girl flagged me down. I walked over to her desk, and she handed me a note, all folded up into a tiny square. "Don't open it right now," she ordered, a serious look on her face. So I tucked it in my pocket and continued on down the aisle of desks, wondering what on earth the note was about. That particular student was one of my favorites (I know, we're not supposed to have favorites, but come on, we all do), so I suspected the note was one of adoration: Dear Mrs. King, you are my favorite teacher in the whole world. You are the most awesome teacher, and it is because of you that I live.

Before I knew it, class was over, students were scrambling out of the room, and I was grabbing my purse and heading to the lounge for lunch. It wasn't until I sat down with my too-hot Hot Pocket that I remembered the secret note in my pants pocket. My heart warmed as I began to unfold the paper, layer after layer, planning in my head how I would thank her for her lovely letter.

Here is what the note actually said: Cynthia has gum

Love it or leave it

You gotta love each moment in teaching -- the scary ones, the silly ones, the out-of-control ones, the disappointing ones, and of course the hilarious ones. If you don't allow yourself to laugh and enjoy each moment for what it is, you will not make it. Laugh and have fun, each and every day, because if you're not having fun, you're not doing it right.