Matching Tracksuits

The kids are all taking a benchmark test. We’re spending two hours of each of the two days students will be in school taking a district-mandated benchmark test, which, truth be told, will be of little to no value to me. I know where my students are; I know where we’re going; I know what I haven’t covered. Further, I know the students better than a benchmark could show

In the midst of all this, a bird flies up to the window and perches on the sill. It cocks its head as it investigates all the humanoid forms on the inside, all hunched over glowing boxes, almost all oblivious to the bird’s presence. Except Anna. She’s sitting next to the window and has watched the bird flutter up. She takes a break from her test and looks over at the bird, smiling and likely grateful for the break the bird’s presence has brought.

Birds come to this window regularly, but their presence injects a bit of tragic chaos into the class atmosphere. Twice this year, birds have flown into the window with a sickening thud, only to lie outside the window slowly dying of the blunt force trauma the window and physics delivered. They flap about just outside our window as if they are trying to distract a predator to lure it away from its nest. These times, though, the bird is not faking. 

It’s a tough prompt: the analysis required might be too much for my students even at the end of the year; at this point in the year, it’s an impossibility. But I can apply various supports that will help them ease into the whole argument unit.

“What evidence does the author use to support the claim that MLK was the right man born at the right time?”

We’re not evaluating the argument: we’re not even looking to determine the claim. The claim is settled: MLK was the right man born at the right time.

I look over the passage and realize that the key idea is that he was born at the right time. It’s a question of context. He rose to prominence after Excecutive Order 9981 desegregated the military and Brown v. Board did the same (in theory) for schools. The author also points out that the rise of television helped King and the civil rights movement as it made it impossible to ignore the brutality directed at the African American community.

I help the students see all this, creating a graphic organizer to put this information into manageable form.

At the end of the lesson, I wrap up how our planning would form an answer:

The author supports the claim that King was the right man at the right time by showing the context of his leadership. For example, the author gives the context of laws and court cases. He explains Executive Order 9981, which banned segregation in the military. He also explains how Brown v Board ended school segregation. In addition, the author gives the context of technology. He points out that television made it impossible to hide how African Americans suffered.

As I say this, I point to each part of the organizer to show where the ideas are coming from.

The next day, I plan for an easy task. We’re simply going to take our graphic organizer and turn it into sentences. “I gave them all the answers yesterday,” I think to myself. “How much of a challenge can this be for them?”

We begin reviewing our work, and I add some more schaffolding: I number the sentences they need to write and add some transitional elements to help them connect things:

Each line, each numbered element becomes a sentence. I remove the parenthetical annotations to make it even easier. So I’m hoping students will see “Gives context of laws and cases” and realize the only thing missing is the subject. I don’t even expect or even hope that they will think in those terms. All they have to do is read it and think about it:

“‘Gives context of laws and cases.’ Who gives the context of laws and cases?” That’s the first step, but some of them struggle even realizing this.

One young man comes to me for help.

“I don’t know what to do with number two,” he admits.

“Well,” I begin, “read the text for number two.”

“Gives context of laws and cases.”

“What’s missing? What question do you have when you say that?”

He looks at me, a completely blank expression suggesting that there’s so much he doesn’t understand about it that he doesn’t even know where to begin. I decide to simplify.

“Imagine I walk up to you and say, ‘Gives her an apple.’ What question comes to mind when I say that.”

How hard can it be for this kid to see that we have an action here and we have no idea who’s doing it? How difficult can it be to realize that the simplest question in response to this “Who”?

I finally help him to see that we don’t know what’s going on there and that the questions, “Who gives her the apple?” And I think we’re ready to return to my original question.

“So, when I say ‘Gives her an apple,’ the obvious question is ‘Who gives her an apple.’ So if I say ‘Gives the context of laws and cases,’ what’s the obvious question?” I don’t even bother looking up at him because he should catch this almost immediately. It’s the same problem. He just stares at me.

Even after I get through to him that we’re trying to figure out who provided the context, he can’t take the next step. I’ve had this problem with other students, and they get confused about what we’re really writing about. They ask, “Martin Luther King?” sheepishly.

This is a deceptively complex question we’re working on: we’re not asking a question about the contents of the text itself — what it’s about — but the decisions the author made in creating the text. It’s not an analysis of the contents of the text but of the structure of the text, of the process and thinking behind the writing of the text.

But this level of questioning is not even our ultimate goal. We’re ultimately supposed to get students ready to answer questions about evaluating the claim and evidence of an argument. Here, I’m giving the claim and the paragraph in which to find the evidence. I’m just asking them to figure what the evidence is. I’m not asking them to find the claim. I’m not asking them to find the evidence among all the paragraphs. And I’m certainly not asking them to make decisions about the quality of the evidence provided. And as far as potential counterclaims — forget it. I just want them to find the evidence.

While I’m working with this boy, a handful of students realize the relatively straightforward nature of what I’m asking them to do and how it’s all on the board and write beautiful (although simple and short) paragraphs about it.

These kids are in the same class along with a boy who speaks very little English and a boy who speaks no English at all, and the state expects me to get them all to the same place in nine months: analyze the argument in an eighth-grade level text and evaluate its effectiveness.

And they are struggling to do it when I’ve already done it with them. Using a fifth-grade level text.

We always have some kind of decorating competition in school around Christmas — door decorating, hall decorating, tree decorating. And there’s always a group of kids who are so very eager to do the work.

It’s also this time of year that we often start Romeo and Juliet. I’ve about completed the whole first act in a single week. We could have pulled it off if it weren’t for today’s quiz…

Educational technology has come a long way in the last ten years. We’ve gone from simple programs like Google Docs to interactive learning games like Kahoot and Gimkit.

I use these, but I’m of mixed feelings on the topic.

On the one hand, they do get students engaged. When you’re using learning to earn snowballs to pelt your classmates (see below), you’re going to forget to some degree that you’re learning/practicing.

On the other hand, gamifying learning seems to run the opposite risk: kids are more interested in the game and less interested in the learning, and they’re willing to take risks (i.e., click somewhat randomly) to speed the process. And also, does everything have to be a game?

Still, it got some kids who are usually less than enthusiastic about school to engage to some degree for a few minutes. That’s a win.

Two of our newest students have been developing a friendship even though one of them doesn’t yet speak much English at all.

Prewriting: The Graphic Organizers

As you look at the graphic organizers I created, notice that I never really write a complete sentence. I just write enough to help me remember what my original thoughts were. Writing the whole thing in the GO is not necessary, and it’s not always a good idea, either: You expend to much energy writing it out and might start cutting corners when you’re putting it into Mastery Connect.

Princess

My first thoughts were about the princess. Her personality was the clearest as I read, and I jotted down some quotes almost immediately. They were all listed under the CD together, though I knew I would eventually separate them. Once I’d read through it a couple of times, I looked at the quotes and figured out a way to group them. I then crossed out the ones I was going to use for CD2 so that they didn’t clutter my thinking once I started focusing on the commentary.

The Prince

The prince was much more challenging than the princess. I had to reread the story a couple of times to find something I liked. I was tempted to go all positive with him, and I did lean heavily toward a more positive interpretation, but there is an underlying sense that he is manipulative. I hinted that that a little, but I couldn’t really find clear quotes that I could use. I’m sure with more time and additional reading, I would find the, but given the time I had, I settled.

Version 1: Mr. Scott Writing as an English Teacher

This version is 464 words long. It uses some more complicated sentence structures, and it often uses three commentary sentences per chunk. Additionally, it slightly bends some of the rules we’ve implemented for Schaffer paragraphs, including at least one quote in commentary and mixing a bit of claim with evidence in some of the concrete details.

Authors have at their disposal only one tool: words. The word choices they make when writing, then, are of supreme significance, and a good author selects words for the specific impact they will have on the reader. The Brothers Grimm used word choice in “The Frog Prince” to demonstrate contrast the shallow, selfish immaturity of the princess with the prince’s wily and patient persistence.

The authors clearly show the princess’s shallow selfishness through their commentary on the princess’s actions and thoughts. For example, they make it clear that she is most interested in her “favorite plaything” and cannot “be troubled” with anything other than joy. Life is about entertainment for the princess, and her own fun is all she seeks. She can’t even be troubled with the fact that she’s interacting with a speaking frog. Such thoughts are too difficult for her, so she simply pushes them out of her mind. In addition, as she leaves behind the “nasty frog,” the authors show she has “quite forgotten” about the frog and “never thought” about it again. This is remarkable insofar as she was not impressed by the fact that an animal was carrying on a conversation with her. It wasn’t fun for her, so she didn’t remember it. The author’s use of “quite” shows how flippantly she takes the whole thing. The princess’s selfish shallowness is clear from the authors’ descriptions and commentary on her behavior.

The prince, on the other hand, is shown to be wily and persistent, exhibiting the patience of someone who is a master manipulator. For example, the authors have the frog phrase his interactions in very flattering and subservient ways, asking the princess, “Pray, lift me upon the chair” and constantly referring to her as “my princess dear.” The frog, seeing how obsessed the princess is with her “favorite plaything,” realizes the best way to get at the princess is through her ego. He understands that she thinks of herself first, and he frames all his interactions with her in that light. Additionally, the authors show how patient the frog is by having him repeat the exact same thing every time he interacts with the princess: “Open the door to they true love dear.” This repetition suggests an almost parental approach the frog is taking. It’s as if he is interacting with an incorrigible toddler, and like any patient parent, he simply and persistently repeats himself instead of engaging in an argument. Thus, the authors use the frog’s dialogue to show his wily patience.

Just as the prince is wily in his word choice with the princess, the Brothers Grimm cleverly used word selection to contrast the characters in “The Frog Prince.” They effectively show the prince to be wily and manipulative and the princess to be selfishly shallow.

Version 2: Simple Eighth-Grade Version

This version is 209 words long and makes use of very simple sentence structures. Everything is short and to the point. There is only a single sentence for the introduction and a single sentence for the conclusion.

The Brothers Grimm use word choice in “The Frog Prince” to show the princess is selfish and shallow and the prince is clever and persistent.

The princess is very selfish and shallow. For example, all she is interested in is her “favorite plaything.” This shows that for her, entertainment is the most important thing in life. She is more concerned about being happy than anything else. In addition, she quickly forgets about the “nasty frog.” This suggests that she’s not even curious about the fact that an animal is talking to her. Most people would find this fascinating, but she only finds it annoying. The authors show the princess to be selfishly shallow.

The prince is shown to be clever and persistent. For example, he keeps calling her “my princess dear.” This shows that he understands how selfish the princess is. He is using her selfishness to manipulate her. In addition, he continually says “Open the door to thy true love.” This suggests he recognizes her childishness. He’s repeating this like a patient parent would repeat something to a child. Cleverness and persistence are clearly the most obvious traits for the prince.

Word choice in “The Frog Prince” is critical to show the selfish princess and the clever prince.