Big Voices Dread to Joy

I have to admit that I started this year with a sense of dread. How was I going to execute brand new curriculum in a class I haven’t taught in twenty years, differentiate for students who desire honors designation, while collaborating with history teachers who were also implementing brand new curriculum in their frosh classes? I thought, this is crazy and I will need some therapy to get through it. I love being wrong.

Well, I wasn’t completely wrong. The class has its challenges, like juggling grammar, literary terms, and Membean vocabulary; honors, regular and core texts; three separate yet concurrent writing assignments; and presentations to top it all off. Behind the scenes, I’m a controller of chaos. In the classroom, all the students see is a well-oiled machine. How do I do it? I don’t. WE do.

Working with my cohorts, Lisa and Kate, is the reason this works. We meet every third period, pounding out the gritty details of the big picture of Big Voices we planned over the summer. Three minds have created a year of English for these girls far richer than anything I could have done on my own. If not for Lisa, I never would have thought to have freshmen writing a research-based synthesis essay on myths that the girls chose to explore. If not for Kate, I never would have thought to have my students write “Where I’m From” poems that they enthusiastically shared with their peers. And, the icing on the cake is that these assignments parallel so well with the origin stories that my history cohort, Miranda, is teaching in Big History.

Speaking of Big History, I didn’t think we’d be on the same page until second semester with the Little Big History Project. For that endeavor, the collaboration seems like a no-brainer, and we’re looking forward to it. Until then, we are matching our units up thematically. It seemed like the best we could do until Miranda, Joanie, and Gaeby recognized that the basic skills we were teaching should unite us as well. For example, we make sure to use the same vocabulary and format when teaching text annotations and we’ll do the same with our many of our writing assignments. I love to see the students nodding their heads when I say, “You’re doing the same thing in Big History, right?”

In addition to the rich content, the sharing of students, and the support we give each other, this collaboration effort is fun. Whether we’re meeting in our small dept. groups or gathering as a larger, cross-curricular group, we enjoy each other and work well together. I’m not sure what the future holds for Big History and Big Voices as more collaboration opportunities with additional subject areas present themselves, but my initial dread has transformed to joy.

Millennials don’t know about Holocaust, according to survey

April 12th was Holocaust Remembrance Day. Sadly, people are
forgetting about it. 
See the sobering NY Times article
linked
here.
We are so blessed to host a survivor here at
Carondelet Friday, April 20th, during 5th and 6th periods, in the Garaventa. The
number of living Holocaust survivors dwindles as the years go on. 
As
the article states, “Holocaust remembrance
advocates and educators, who agree that no book, film or traditional exhibition
can compare to the voice of a survivor, dread the day when none are left to
tell their stories.

Our guest, Hana Berger Moran, is
in her 70s and was born in a concentration camp. She will be here to tell her
and her mother’s story, as chronicled in the recent book, Born
Survivors
by Wendy Holden.



Our freshmen learn about the Holocaust in their history
curriculum, and the English department teaches it with the classic graphic
novel 
Maus by Art Spiegelman. Church History classes also
address the Holocaust. Thank goodness our school continues to educate youth
about the horrific events of the Holocaust. The Catholic faith is immeasurably
linked to the Jewish people. Let 
us never forget.

Thank you for supporting this important event. I know that
losing instruction time gets tricky. I welcome all of you to attend along with
our freshmen, if you can make it. 
Please
join us even if you can’t stay the whole time. 
Particulars: Hana will start at 12:30 and continue through the
end of 6th period. Fifth period teachers of frosh: please take attendance
before escorting (or sending) girls to the Garaventa Center. Sixth period
teachers of frosh: The girls won’t be checking in that day. Students have been
given Teacher Notification forms for you to sign.

Architect Project – Close Reading and Analysis as Tool to Imitate Writer’s

Recently I attended the DVC English Articulation Conference with Michael Schooler and Tiz Woo. The first session I attended was very beneficial and thought-provoking and is something I will build into the Writing Seminar and AP Lit curriculum I teach next year.

Essentially, students are asked to unpack difficult quotes they encounter. Students perform a close reading and attempt to determine author’s tone and purpose. Then, students are able to begin to delve deeper into themes and messages about the human condition and society.

Finally, students begin the Architect Project in which they are asked to imitate the author’s style and voice in writing. As in all text forms (written word, music, television, film, etc.) the written and spoken work is a reflection/response to a previous text and taking a previous text/idea and expanding upon it

.

In asking students to imitate writers, the thought is they will continue to develop their style and voice as writers. I look forward to having AP Lit students work with difficult texts (ex. Heart of Darkness) as well as Writing Seminar students (ex. Glass Castle) work on imitating the voice and style of works of literature.

When Ven a Ver Experiences Are Equally Beneficial To The Teacher

So far this year I have had the privilege of experiencing two Ven A Ver Trips, Washington D.C. and Appalachia (West Virginia). Although both experiences were very different (conference vs an immersion), but spoke to me in a way that I was able to bring what I learned back into the classroom. Although I teach Religious Studies, I don’t believe that this is the only discipline that can do this. Areas of Science, Social Studies, English and Modern Languages can all apply the information that I gained on these experiences. I will touch on the parallels in these disciplines in the following paragraphs. In Washington D.C. the Teach-In had its emphasis on Immigration (especially DACA), and Racism and it’s links to Mass Incarceration. This experience was eye opening for a number of reasons. Hearing first hand about the lives of those effected by racism and outdated legislation created a fire in me to not be silent to and make it a priority to educate those who can help make those changes; our students. We can often be blind to legislation that exists in other states because it doesn’t effect us, but in reality those pieces of legislation are a part of the problem because they increase the numbers in the prison system. When we met with our local California Representatives they received us in a very positive way and were supportive of the causes we were advocating for. But the legislation problems lie outside of our state boarders. This trip opened our group up to see a responsibility to not only speak with our Representative, but also seek to contact Representatives from other areas. It also allowed us to not be ignorant regarding racism and how it is effecting this country today.
The stories that were told by other students and presenters emphasized the need to be educated in these areas and to not be content with saying it is better now, so let’s focus on something else. I am sure that these issues are already being discussed in our Modern Language classes. Our English classes already write letters to our Representatives, and this is another confirmation that we need to keep doing this. The message we received from our Representatives was that they want to hear from us regarding specific legislation that they can focus on. In Appalachia the effects of the Opioid epidemic and the decline of the Coal and Steel industry were clearly visible. Unemployment rates in statistics can allow us to oversee the issues in a state such as West Virginia where two counties have unemployment as high as 9.5%. Being in the state makes it even more real, and emphasized the importance of helping our students realize the reality that fellow Americans face. The sources of energy per state differs and we need to be mindful of the environmental impact from those different sources. Mountain Top Removal and environmental disasters such as coal slurry pits are covered in Science courses. The moral dilemmas of how much to effect our natural environment is also covered in Religious Studies courses. The Ven a Ver to Appalachia helps the students see first hand what they had been studying. It also help me bring what I discovered there back to Carondelet to help the students understand the issues from another point of view. Although it may appear that these trips portray a sense of hopelessness, slivers of hope can be found in the stories we heard. One Post-Graduate student in West Virginia is experimenting with Coal and the properties it has when it is superheated. It turns into a non-flammable substance that is an incredible insulator. What this Post-Graduate student has created is not being looked in to by NASA. I have been incredibly happy to have been able to experience these two Ven a Ver trips and to bring back what I have learned to Carondelet and the classroom. These trips allow for the problems and solutions to be seen through the lens of a variety of disciplines, which helps me teach to a broader pool of students (and their interests). I am looking forward to being a part of more trips and to help see the solutions through the fog of despair.

Writing as a Learning Tool in Curriculum

The entire English Department recently attending a workshop titled “Writing to Learn.” It was a great reminder for myself about how I learn and the importance of being allowed to collect my thoughts through the writing process. It has been quite sometime since I was a student. So, having the opportunity to do so at the workshop was invaluable. 

Essentially, the idea is to promote learning through self-reflection while writing. I was reminded how writing forces one to think instead of just blurting out initial thoughts without thinking. While there is value in spontaneous responses, I was reminded that writing forces students to collect thoughts in a cohesive manner as they have time to think individually and reflection is done with purpose before any small-group conversations, etc.
Overall, I am very excited about the possibility of applying these strategies in the Writing Seminar curriculum and into my other English courses. Creating daily writing practices well help cultivate an environment that uses writing as a tool for reflection and learning about oneself and the world we live in. 

Through using the writing process always before speaking, thus applying writing as part of the critical-thinking process, students are encouraged to develop an awareness of themselves. We all have personal experiences and cultural capital, however writing forces us to reflect on our biases, especially when we read what peers have written or hear their verbal responses to what we have written. 


Some strategies to use writing include:
  • Use in small pair/share – helps generate ideas both in writing to one another and verbally.
  • A Dialectical Notebook – eencourages understanding through reflecting on quotes for overall idea and confusing or frustrating quotes from within texts while asking for partners to respond in writing to one another.
  • Learning through observation – writing down observations about texts and images.
  • Short writing pieces – focused writing with a purpose.
Finally, the workshop reminded me of the importance of putting pen or pencil to paper, rather then sticking only to digital keyboards. I have fallen prey to Schoology and using digital writing mainly. This workshop reminded me that forcing myself to write is a kinesthetic experience that enhances the learning experience.
Below is the Script and a couple of handouts from the workshop:

Writing to Teach Reading

Along with the other members of the English Dept., I attended
a workshop put on by Bard College entitled, Writing to Learn. We spent an
entire day as students, reading extremely challenging articles, excerpts and
poems and writing about them. Our instructor purposely gave us difficult texts
to show us how our students often feel when presented with a reading challenge.
Genius! As I struggled to understand the literature, I appreciated having time
to grapple with my thoughts in writing, to discuss my ideas with a peer, and
then to hear the ideas of the group before returning to the text for another
reading. (We never had time to return to the text, but boy, I wanted to!)
The difference between the writing that the instructor was
having us do and the writing we English teachers often have our students do
lies in the purpose. We teachers often use writing as a form of final assessment
while the workshop used writing as a learning tool. While I expected the
workshop to teach me how to become a better teacher of writing, it actually
helped me become a better teacher of reading. Many of the strategies that we
learned about at the conference, like quick writes and dialectical journals, have
been around for ages. I continue to have my students use them, but I must admit
that I often toss these exercises aside for “more important” activities,
especially during a 45-minute class period. After using them myself at this
workshop, though, I realize just how effective they can be in the learning
process.
One approach that was rather new to me (but integral to
science classes, I’m sure) involved simply writing down observations without
judgement. All of our critical thinking begins there, with what we notice. The
instructor projected a picture at the front of the classroom, and all we had to
do was write down what we saw in the image. Then, in “popcorn” style, we read
our observations, one at a time and beginning with the phrase “look at”, to the
rest of the group. This was a comforting exercise for me because I couldn’t go
wrong. I felt validated by the affirming nods from my peers as I read each of
my observations. Plus, my classmates noticed things that had escaped my
attention. We then did the same exercise with a difficult poem. Again, the
stakes were low, and I learned from my classmates. I felt like I could take
risks. I also felt grateful to my observant peers.
By the way, every writing activity we did in the workshop was
pen to paper. The instructor was adamant about the benefits of writing by hand
when struggling with new ideas. She must be right; after every writing exercise,
I felt like I had a better understanding of the text. The best part was that I
was figuring it out for myself, with a little help.

Artifactual Inquiry

Artifactual Inquiry
My favorite novel to teach in Dystopian Fiction is Emily
St. John Mandel’s Station Eleven. In Station Eleven, the struggle of the
characters to leave an old world behind and create a new world for themselves resonates
with seniors for obvious reasons. 

Mandel skillfully weaves the stories of characters
surviving in North America after a world-wide pandemic has decimated the
population. Unlike most post-apocalyptic fiction writers, Mandel is not as
concerned with her character’s struggle to survive as she is with their
struggle to live. Sure, she presents the reader with roving bands of thieves
and psychopathic cult leaders, all threatening the lives of her dystopian
heroes. But the real heart of the novel lies in the characters’ desire to
preserve the cultural traditions of the society they once knew. Often, they do
this with artifacts. For instance, one surviving character, Clark Thompson, collects
salvaged items for a museum he curates in an abandoned airport. Residents of
and visitors to the airport contribute cell phones, photographs, books,
magazines, laptops, maps, shoes, etc. to the collection. Children too young to
remember the old world study it there. People who do remember the old world
reminisce there. Clark calls it the Museum of Civilization.
As a culminating project, I have my students create their
own Museum of High School Civilization where they can explore their identities
and the unique culture of Carondelet. The idea behind this project is to have
the students gather artifacts that symbolize certain aspects of their time at
Carondelet. They also have to compare their chosen artifact to ones from the
novel. For instance, a main focus of the novel is a traveling troupe of actors that
performs Shakespeare and other plays in small villages scattered along their
route. On their journey, they steal clothing from the houses of the dead to use
as costumes. First, the clothing serves a practical purpose for the actors in
developing their characters. Second, by creating a new identity for the wearer,
the re-appropriated clothing symbolizes an escape from the harsh reality the
actor faces on the road. When seen in the context of the dramatic production,
the costume also helps the performers’ audience escape to another time and
place. For their museums, students can choose their own symbols to represent
that theme of escape. Or, they can choose to explain what their clothing
symbolizes.
As you can imagine, the project details more symbols from
Station Eleven that the students must
analyze. While I knew what I wanted students to get out of the assignment–recognizing
their school’s distinctive culture, understanding the importance of their
unique identities, and forming connections with the characters and themes of
the novel–I had no idea how to have them display what they’d learned. With
four full sections of Dystopian Fiction students, I knew my classroom would not
be able to hold all the artifacts that they collected. If the students could
not bring their artifacts to me, I would have them bring me, and the rest of
the class, to the artifacts. So, I left it to their imaginations. I gave them
some ideas, but primarily let them choose the modality. One group of artistic students
created an illustrated book of their museum. A few others gave virtual video
tours. Still others gave live presentations, bringing in the actual items if
they were small and pictures of them if they were large. Because I had way too
many Prezi and google slide presentations, I think I will ban both of those for
this year. Yep, I do plan to do this project again, and here’s why.
Beyond all of the analyzing and synthesizing, this
project offered my students and me something more. It made us feel good. While
they shared their memories of their time at Carondelet through their artifacts,
they were able to relive some of the best and worst times of high school. They
were able to laugh about an absurd dance trend, puzzle over their obsession
with a certain expensive brand of water bottle, and cry over the loss of a
revered teacher.
While they aren’t facing the dangers of a dystopian
world, they are facing a pivotal moment in their lives when they leave behind
the safety and security of their high school environment. Even the students
suffering from extreme senioritis enjoy reminiscing with their peers. The
Museum of High School Civilization offers them a cathartic way of gaining
closure to their time spent in high school.

Late work consequences have me in a Tizzy

Late work consequences have me in a Tizzy
I knew boundaries were going to be a problem for me when I
entered teaching a few years ago. Teachers need boundaries in order to maintain
sanity. For example, I am slowly learning that it’s important to allow the
evening to be family time, even if parents email me. I am learning that if I
give myself the entire weekend to plan, I will use the entire weekend to plan.
I may explore this work-life balance in a future blog,
because it’s a struggle for me to put aside work and focus on self-care and
family. Perhaps it’s because I am a newish teacher, still excited, still
exploring, still learning, still idealistic. Still insecure.
But today I need to reach out to my colleagues about a
different sort of boundary. I am terrible at following the policies I put down
on my course outline at the beginning of the year. One of the toughest
categories for me centers around late work. Practically speaking, it is hard to
be consistent and to track who I gave an extension to, how many days late
something is, how many points I said I was going to take off for lateness … not
my forte. Not to mention I am confused about the interplay of toughness and
redemption.
In my credential program, I learned that tying points to
behavior is considered passé. My general sense is that at Carondelet, we don’t
believe in it either. Grades should reflect mastery of skills. Behavioral
issues should have non-grade consequences. I’m going to digress from my
struggle about late work for a moment to provide a dual example of a logical
consequence and my own ineffective enforcement of it. If a student comes to
class unprepared and asks to go to her locker to retrieve a book, I do not take
points off her grade. Instead, as I said
in my course outline, she will receive a tardy because coming unprepared is
almost the same as arriving late. But … I haven’t kept up with this rule. If
one of these sweet Carondelet girls asks me if she can run to her locker for
her book I smile and say, “Sure. Go ahead … hurry!” I may, depending on mood,
add “But next time you need to come prepared.”
I think I am a softy, and knowing that, I want to be more
careful about the policies I set up: Am I willing to enforce them? If so, I
need to do it, or I won’t feel very good about myself down the line. That’s the
thing about boundaries: we set them for ourselves. They represent a line we
draw about what is acceptable to us. Letting people cross my boundaries makes
me feel gross inside. And if I know that I can’t enforce my boundary, perhaps I
need to question why I set it in the first place. Is it because I thought I
should, based on some classroom management guru’s advice?
Sometimes, though, we know that the boundaries we set are
for our students’ benefit. We want our students to grow into women of heart,
faith, courage, and excellence. They need guidelines and parameters. My
question for you all is, what is a logical consequence for turning in work
late? And how can I be true to our culture of redemption and encouragement
without doing a disservice to these girls? I have some students who are one
month late on an important assignment. I want them to complete the work and to
learn. I want to assess the work fairly. But there has to be some consequence
for being this late. Otherwise, students are learning that deadlines do not
have to be respected. Meeting deadlines is a life skill; one students will need
in college and the workplace in order to succeed. Beyond that, we are talking
about an interpersonal skill. Students need to learn respect for other people’s
time and feelings—they cannot cross others’ personal boundaries without
consequence. I am troubled by the message I send when I accept one-month late
work without a consequence that stings. Even if I am well-intentioned in wanting
to be merciful and supportive. I often find myself expressing gratitude to a
student for following through so that I finally
can change the zero placeholder in the grade book. I think the zero has
bothered me more than it has bothered the student all this time!
I recently came up with one logical consequence, but it only
applies in certain situations. In the same spirit of learning, I try to offer
my students the opportunity to rewrite their essays after receiving my feedback
and a grade. When some students turned in their essays a week late, I decided they
had lost the privilege of a rewrite opportunity because now I was grading their
first attempt at the same time I was grading their peers’ rewrites. The
insanity has to stop somewhere.
I have thus far been comfortable with taking off a little for
lateness … but a month late? Is 10% enough of a consequence? Is it fair to the
other students? Should I say that the highest you can earn is a C- if you turn
something in that late? My son’s middle school core teacher won’t accept late
work and he feels quite clear and secure in knowing what the boundary is. He
gets two late passes per year, and they allow him to be one day late. He said
that after one month, he wouldn’t even expect his teacher to accept anything.
But, I tell him, I do want my students to finish the work because it’s
valuable.  We go back and forth. He wants
me to be tougher.
My final musing on the subject goes like this: Maybe turning
in work late isn’t a behavioral issue that must be treated outside the grade
book. Maybe meeting an assignment’s deadline is an integral and crucial part of
the nature of school work. Even if I can get my head around that, and I think I
can, I wonder what the magic numbers are. How late before we don’t accept it at
all? What is the ratio between late days/weeks and percentages off the grade?
I want to hear from my colleagues on this. Do you struggle
as I do? Do you have a good system you can share?

Critical Thinking and Reading: ‘Big History’ Skills for all Disciplines

I’ve completed half of the Big History Project online professional development and want to share some of my initial thoughts. While this post might not be of value to the English and Social Studies teachers who will be completing the P.D., I thought it might be of interest to others who want to get a better sense of the skills the course emphasizes. These skills certainly transcend any single discipline.

(1) Critical Thinking: Big History emphasizes critical thinking as a skill. The course explicitly teaches critical thinking through the routine of “claim testing.” In Big History, claim testing means examining an idea in four different areas that challenge students to consider four different questions:

      • intuition: Does the claim jive with your intuition?
      • authority: Does the claim come from a trusted source?
      • evidence: Does the claim come with data points to back it up?
      • logic: Does the claim follow a clear line of reasoning?

The course starts by having students apply claim testing to readings. Then, they practice with debates. The idea is that as the practice of claim testing becomes more familiar to students, they naturally apply it to class discussions and writing.

(2) Reading: Big History embraces three different approaches to teaching reading:

      • leveled readings: In partnership with Newsela, the course readings are provided at a variety of reading levels so that students at all levels have access to the big ideas. I love this embedded differentiation!
      • three close reads: On the first reading, students read for the “gist” and make a prediction. On the second read, the students read for key facts and main ideas. On the third read, students “think bigger” and are asked to connect the text to a broader concept.
      • video as text: The course treats video as text to be “read.” I love this mindset as it encourages active learning in activity often viewed by our culture as passive.
I love the differentiated texts and “close reading” approach Big History champions. While I do not believe all texts should be ‘close read’ or necessarily close read in this way, I think the three-part close reading method lends itself nicely to a variety of short non-fiction texts with the goal of increasing reading comprehension and making meaning.

As we re-write our curricula, I think it is important for us to be mindful of the academic language and we use as teachers. Using common language, as appropriate, will only increase the likelihood students will transfer skills and ideas from course to course. #claimtesting #threeclosereads #videoastext
The second half of the professional development will focus on writing… more to come.

Art and Literature in Real Life

Art and Literature in Real Life

Kate and I collaborated on English I outside reading during the Fall Semester–Book Folder Reports.
As part of the assignment students created a marketing tool for each book they read–this was a colored folder that was decorated with cover art and included information on the book characters, plot and read-alikes.
For the cover art, students could print out or reproduce the cover on the book they read or they could create their own unique cover.
One student, Eunice Casa, was really attracted to this aspect of the assignment and came up with a unique cover for the book: Eliza and Her Monsters by Francesca Zapia.
Original Bookcover
Even better than that, after the assignment was completed, Eunice continued to work on her art and eventually came up with a new version which she posted to Instagram (tagging the author).
Eunice with her Book Folder Project and the revised artwork post on Instagram.
Last week, Eunice came bouncing into the library with Kate to tell us that the author had seen her post and commented how much she “loved it”. This week Eunice came bouncing in again to tell us that the author had even re-posted Eunice’s artwork on her own account.
This intersection of art, literature and real life really made this student come alive this is why we do what we do. To have our students come alive–to further their studies on their own after being sparked by something in our classrooms.