A Very Dickensian Classroom Role Playing Game

Theater is one of my dearest loves, as is, of course, literature. Any time I can combine the two in my classroom, I do. Performance and role play help students embody the characters they read about in a unique, unforgettable way. I’ll often assign skits as summary, and I wouldn’t dream of teaching Shakespeare without a full cast of students at the front of the room, equipped with props, acting out every word. Not every text lends itself so readily to performance, though… but I appreciate an opportunity to step outside the box.

The past two years, I’ve been teaching A Tale of Two Cities as part of my AP Literature syllabus. Last year, I came up with a concept for a role-playing game that would help my students better understand what I like to call “The Jacques Effect” going on amongst the characters of the novel–secret names, a knit registry of those to be exectuted, plural identities, avowals of loyality, desperation, and greed. Dickens so clearly wanted his audience to feel the intensity and insistance of these historical realities surrounding the French Revolution, but it doesn’t always translate to the modern student, who can find herself simply confused about why the heck everybody is calling each other Jacques all the time, and why Charles Darnay would want to forsake his French inheritance and lay low in England.

Enter “The Jacques Experiment”–the now completed game, which I based off of similar theater games like “Mafia” or “Dinner Party” where an ensemble of actors in character greet one another, all the while trying to avoid a secret murderer. I took that format and specialized it to the historical setting of A Tale of Two Cities. I played the revised version with my students today and it was a huge hit. Not only that, but it really did reinforce their understanding of the novel. They are perfectly poised to read Chapter 16, “Still Knitting,” in which Madame Defarge sniffs out a spy posing as a fellow revolutionary.

Are you teaching this Dickens classic? Please enjoy and use the game, in .pdf form here:The Jacques Experiment . Educational. Hilarious. Challenging to the mind. And a way to see literature come to life before your eyes. (I had one student lurk in the corner, peering ominously over her “knitting” pencils… Guess what? She was a NOBLE!)

Project-Based English 12–Semester One

project-based-learning

What is English 12?

That’s the question my colleague Ms. J and I found ourselves asking last summer, as we prepared to roll out a brand new version of senior language arts. Our department had found a need for a new way of looking at things as the new Common Core State Standards were being presented, 21st century skills were becoming the most touted measuring stick for student achievement post-high school, and voices in our community were calling for graduates who were more professionally savvy. Our previous English 12 courses were very traditional literature-based classes, with no real identity to ground them as anything other than a basic senior English course. Our vision was to completely revamp the curriculum: Align curriculum to the standards. Create a project-based course that gives freedom and ownership to the students. Find ways to constantly connect learning to the community and to real life experiences. We hoped to see higher student engagement/buy-in, higher achievement, and an emerging professional demeanor in our students.

Here’s what we came up with:What’s English 12? Infographic

As the year unfolded, the students were occasionally mystified or daunted by the new, challenging things we were asking of them. The largest of these is the senior research proposal, paper, and project. Students are asked to select a defining topic that pertains to their interests, skills, or future plans. Throughout the year, they develop research on that topic which eventually results in a project, of their own design, that the students display for the community at the end of the year showcase. During semester one, we’ve planted the seeds for this epic undertaking in several special ways. I’ve given a snapshot below.

September – October: Introduced “big picture” of course, linking to Tony Wagner’s idea of Passion, Play, and Purpose as the most important cornerstones of learning that creates innovation and creativity. Students were asked to begin considering their topic choices, keeping these ideas in mind.

Early November: Over 30 local professionals from many different fields were our guests at the Professional Symposium, an event designed for students to learn more about the real expectations of the different corners of the work world. Each professional had a table where they brought in things related to their career (like a model of a human spine, a laptop video display, architectural drafts, plants…). The students, who were required to dress professionally, then circulated and asked both prepared and impromptu interview questions to prompt conversations. Students also had important roles in the event, such as being in charge of lighting/sound and giving the closing address. This experience offered important insight, and helped several students select a topic.

Late November: Students were required to select their topics by this time. (True to the student-ownership goal, these ranged from the history of comics to Spina Bifida awareness to Bigfoot to sports medicine.) We took the students on a research field trip to the Golda Meir Library at UW-Milwaukee. The staff worked amazingly well with our massive group of students. During this experience, our rural students got to see what a respected university library is like, and they had access to a nearly-endless collection of both digital and print resources to inform their topic. They spent the day taking resource-specific notes and refining their topic choices.

December: In class, we offered instruction on specialized research skills, like how to conduct an email interview, using electronic databases, how to take notes, and choosing what to read in a lengthy  source. During this unit, students wrote a detailed annotated bibliography of 20+ credible sources related to their topics. Students were expected to give periodic reports to the full class about their reading and discoveries.

January: For the semester exam, students were asked to write a formal proposal for their research–English 12 Research Proposal. I was so impressed with my students’ overall excitement and true scholarship associated with their topics. I found myself reading things like…

  • “Philosophy does not get the respect and credit it well deserves. Few people in the world today realize how much philosophy has impacted society and the human race. My stance on this is that philosophy is an invaluable and irreplaceable building block to modern knowledge.” Alex L.

  • “I would say that modern comics are stepping away from old ideas and greeting new ones more openly as well as [showing a] more true step into maturity, unlike the hollow, pandering “maturity” of the 90’s. This is evident in things like superhero comics becoming somewhat less popular, indie and comics that deal with much different subject matters than the mainstream seeing much more popularity, the early 2000’s seeing the abandoning of the comics code almost altogether, and the far more respectful portrayal of modern war and tragic events like 9/11.” Stephen P.

  • “The juvenile system has flourished over time and helps create life saving opportunities for adolescents. Continuing over each generation adolescents will do bad things, but it is the system’s job to help save their lives, and create a better tomorrow. I arrived at my stance through trial and error. First I wanted to research the history of juvenile justice, but then I decided I want to find out what the juvenile system can offer adolescents. What can the system do for kids whose families have given up on them? Samantha S.

Our students have already grown so much in intellectual and professional maturity throughout this process, and I can tell that they are feeling proud to call this class their own. I’m looking forward to second semester, to see what happens as more and more responsibility is released over to them, and they are enabled and empowered to do interesting, contributive things. Students light up when you ask them about the right things–we’re channeling the power of those right things in order to activate remarkable learning.

Things I’ve already observed during semester one of English 12:

-Project-based learning is just as powerful as all the research claims it us! It targets a comprehensive skill set dealing with academics, technology, and professional demeanor.

-Project-based learning is absolutely achieveable in a public school environment, with all levels of students, though those who need to grow in their ability to self-direct have the most work to do to succeed. This type of format requires educators who are able to and interested in keeping close tabs on the progress/development of each individual.

-Project-based learning helps students, even those prone to “senioritis” remember how much they actually do love to learn.

Things I’m still wondering:

-How does project-based learning look in other senior classes around the state and country? Do you teach one or know of one? Please share! Examples have not been the easiest to find.

-What are the best assessment techniques for such a wide variety of outcomes? While many aspects of student acheivement are observable in this format, measuring it objectively and accurately may become a challenge. Are there any educators out there with ideas about this?

 

The Sketchbook Project–Ideas about sketchbooks for storytelling, learning, and reflection

This year I participated for the first time in The Sketchbook Project, a massive public art project managed by the Art House Co-op and Brooklyn Art Library. The process is simple–you register online, and Art House sends you a small sketchbook. It’s then up to every artist to determine how he/she will fill the blank pages until the mail-back deadline, at which time the artist sends the filled book back. The sketchbooks (which come from thousands of artists, amateur and professional, from all over the world) are then made part of a touring exhibition where museum and library goers can browse the sketchbook collection. After a year of touring, the sketchbooks are made a permanent part of the collection at the Brooklyn Art Library, and some are made part of a digital collection.

I couldn’t wait to get my hands on this, as I love to draw and I felt that this could provide a channel and a motivation for it. I think it’s important for teachers to participate in their discipline, and this was a chance for me to exercise my storytelling ability and author something of my own. I ended up creating something intensely reflective. The very process of completing the work helped me think about and process aspects of my own experience. (You can see my finished work in the gallery above.) But I also had an interest in The Sketchbook Project because of something new I’m trying in my English 12 classroom this year–requiring students to keep a school sketchbook as part of their English experience and grade.

My colleague Ms. J and I first got the idea of the English 12 sketchbook at the 2011  NCTE conference. In imitation of a strategy used by some teachers in a Chicago suburb, we decided to make drawing a regular component of our classroom, utilizing the playful, generative nature of drawing to help students interact with texts, brainstorm, and map out their own intellectual landscapes at specific moments in time. (Here’s the overview handout that we gave the students at the beginning of the year explaining the assignment: The English 12 Sketchbook). The students as a whole have responded in a very positive way, and in many cases their drawings are remarkably innovative and rich with abstract ideas. This semester, we’ve done the sketches as stand-alone activities… one about a poem here, another about a thinking process there… but after completing my own sketchbook, I’m wondering if there might be something important to the idea of continuity, of a story. Completing my book in a style that was part literary response, part memoir caused me to reflect on how each piece of an individual sketch (word + image) related to the sketches before and after, as well as how they related to me, to what I was trying to say.

Since my seniors are undertaking a major research paper and project during semester two, these ideas of reflection and cohesiveness are important for success. I may experiment with a sort of “visual journaling” progression that will ask students to use related sequential drawings in order to track the meanderings, epiphanies, frustrations, questioning, and connecting that go along with research. Even as a series of unrelated activities, though, the sketchbook is one of those teaching strategies that I absolutely stand behind, even after just one semester of trying it in class. Here’s why:

*Students peek over each other’s shoulders to see what’s being created–interest in each other’s ideas leads to academic conversation.

*Ideas are recorded in a visually very “presentable” format, using a document camera or scanning images into an online format allows students to show their thinking dynamically.

*Sketchbook activities require a knowledge and application of visual rhetoric–a crucial skill in analyzing film, web, and other media.

*It’s fun to do and fun to watch. Play lessens inhibition, and enables students to take advantage of what they perceive as a low pressure chance to display thinking.

*Asking students to create and explain symbolic representations requires true metaphorical thinking that cannot be faked.

*The time it takes to shade in a space or carefully draw a line creates extended minutes for students to think about what they are creating and why, often yielding deep understanding.

Upon finishing my own sketchbook, I feel like I used my brain and heart to create something of worth. There are very few feelings better than that. Knowing that my book will be held and examined by other people, also, creates a sense of connection. This is something I really want for my students, one of those sort of “intangible standards” that I try to weave into my teaching. I want my students to understand the joy and fulfillment of creating something, whether it’s through words, image/design, or performance. The Sketchbook Project helped remind me of that, and I think I’ll be returning to do it again next year. I may even invite some interested students to try it as well!

Do you use drawing in your classroom? How does it work for you?  Tell me more in the comments section below!

Great Expectations: Bringing Rigor Vita into the Classroom

One of the biggest words in education theory today is rigor. According to the Rigor/Relevance Framework established by the International Center for Leadership in Education, academic rigor refers to “learning in which students demonstrate a thorough, in-depth mastery of challenging tasks to develop cognitive skills through reflective thought, analysis, problem-solving, evaluation, or creativity.” This expectation, that teachers will demonstrate a curriculum that not only covers the basics, but also challenges each student to the utmost of his or her ability, can leave already overburdened or disenfranchised educators feeling pressured. We might find ourselves asking things like, “How am I supposed to show rigor when some of my students can’t even read up to grade level?” There’s no magical potion to turn struggling students into savants, this much is true. But I’d like to posit that boosting the rigor of our courses, rather than something to shrink from, is something that we should be applying with a vengeance.

On the curricular level, standards are set by the nation, the state, and the district. For those of us working with the Common Core State Standards, we’ve noticed the rigor ramping up. But really, when you walk into a real world classroom, it’s not the state of Wisconsin that’s setting the bar for the students’ performance. The person setting that bar is the person standing at the front of the room. We all know about The Standards, but what about our standards? I don’t know about you, but I’ve got them. Go ahead, say it with me:

“I have standards!”

This is what I tell my students when they ask me why something is so hard, or why they are expected to do something in such a particular way. It’s because I have standards–for them, for my classroom, for myself as a professional. And they are rigorous standards, because I know my students will reach toward what I expect for them. And I expect excellence! As my hideously wonderful tie-dye classroom poster proclaims, excellence is the goal. No matter where we fall, we are better when we aim for superior performance. And my daily demand for a higher standard from my students is far more immediate and powerful than the CCSS binder sitting sagely on my bookshelf. It makes them want to be better. That desire is fuel for a fire that can equate to greater achievement, even in the most unexpected places.

Concrete and Realistic Ways to Implement Greater Rigor in the High School Classroom

Communicate Effectively and Often: Students really do want to please, despite how much they may sometimes protest. And that’s a lot easier to do when they know what is expected. Create challenging, but very clear learning targets and explain them often, in different ways. As students begin work, engage the lost and distracted in an open conversation–”do you know what we’re doing right now?” Many times, the answer is “no,” but quickly becomes “ok!” after a personal connection. You can also recruit more with-it students to explain classroom processes to a nearby classmate. Take the time to verbally monitor success (it’s a great way to formatively assess on the spot). It only takes a moment to say, “This part that you wrote is really strong because…” or “What did you think of the way the author comes across in this paragraph?” The more acquainted we can be with our students’ current performance, the better we learn how to appropriately challenge and support them next.

Dare to Demand Amazing Things: Wish your students could do something like… perform a scene from Twelfth Night for a live audience? Or market and sell a unique product? Or have professional conversations with local community members? Or design a school vegetable garden? They can. If you need someone to say it, I’m saying it: They Absolutely Can. They need resources and guidance, and may have some failures along the way, but young people are unbelievably capable. Society doesn’t always view teenagers for the wonders they are. Especially if they know that an adult believes that they can do something, they will rise to the occasion. Try to implement one amazing thing per year–something that expects students to reach beyond their normal capabilities for a classroom cause.

Accept that there Is Such a Thing as “Unacceptable” Part of rigor is making a clear statement that mediocrity is not enough. Resist the fear of the irritated parent phone call and draw a bold line that defines unacceptable performance. If a student falls short of expectations, it’s ok to hand work right back to them and say, “This is not acceptable.” Paired with an understanding ear, a re-clarification of expectations, and an opportunity for another try, this is an important moment for teacher and student. Struggling students in this scenario are able to express their areas of struggle, while the lazy or line-pushing students get the message that… well… we have standards! I also try to mirror society’s expectations by defining unacceptable social actions (such as trash-talking anyone in my presence), and even unacceptable grammar mistakes (papers with instances of the wrong “there/their/they’re” get harshly downgraded or, on occasion, handed back without a grade)!

Research Your Own Practicum and Content  Students can tell when their teacher is working hard to provide quality instruction. Consider doing a bit of new reading on something you’ve taught many times before. If we want our students to respect the idea of lifelong learning, we need to model it! High standards for our teaching translate to rigor in expectations… because when our passion overflows, we want our students to understand the subject with the same intriguing complexity that we do.

Celebrate Hard Work  Through your classroom actions and outright statements, communicate the value of hard work. Help students understand that the immediate gratification of Google searches will only go so far in building true knowledge. Help them build reading stamina. Rejoice in the painfully slow but successful interpretation of a 17th century text. Share the deliciously frustrating reality of the writing and research process that makes the payoff that much sweeter. When students know that success doesn’t just descend from above onto the “A” students, they start to make a connection between industriousness and achievement.

Be a Cheerleader  Be vocal when students do well. Write proud comments on their work. Brag about them in the announcements. Post their work in the display case. Write an article about them in the school newspaper. One honest, affirming comment can inspire a student to work twice as hard. Yesterday, after my students finished reading their original poems for the class, I said, “These were so good! You guys make me want to stand up and cheer!” It was true! Every kid deserves to hear something like that once in a while. And don’t reserve praise just for overachievers–when a D average student pulls out a B- performance, it is just as much cause for affirmation and validation.

Create a Culture of Team Achievement The broken record classroom management philosophy that I’ve had since day one has been “We’re all in this together.” Friendly competition can be stimulating, but at the end of the day, students need to understand that the classroom is a community. Make them aware of the fact that their actions, words, and attitude have real power over those in their vicinity. Encourage them to encourage each other, and they’ll want to do well–not just for themselves, but for each other.

 

On a Personal Note

Teaching brings peace in personal crisis. This is an observation I’ve been making since September, and it’s one that I’ll add to my collection of general truths about this profession that transcend buzzwords, initiatives, and mandates of all kinds.

In recent months, my life has been uprooted and changed before my eyes in many ways. As we all come to understand at one time or another, the challenges that life provides us can carry with them a bludgeoning impact. (An impact, some might say, that causes bloggers to update far less frequently than normal…) When processing loss, even getting out of bed in the morning can take tremendous effort. But once you get out of bed, you can go to work. That’s what I’ve been doing–going to work. And in so many ways, the familiar routine and positivity created and received by those who teach has sustained me. Uplifted me.

I walk into work, usually joking all the way with my carpooling colleague Ms. D, and I see a student population that operates much like a family. I watch kids roughhouse, laugh, support one another, yell and grin and hug. The eternal energy and effervescence of youth is unstoppable as the day begins and the halls fill with a rowdy but happy noise, and I can’t help but feed off of the energy that spills off of them. Students that I teach currently and those that I’ve taught in years past smile and say “Hi, Ms. H!!” like saying hi is a new and incredible thing. And I get to share books with them. I get to write poetry with them. I get to challenge their thinking and watch glazed processing turn to intent puzzling turn to flickering realization. I get to teach them to speak and reason and create.

In dark times when I feel nearly out of control of my own life, my role as a teacher reminds me that it is my job to reassure students who are nervous, to hoist up the students who try to give up, and to bring words out of students who might otherwise conceal themselves in a shroud of apathy. Good teachers get so much trust and faith from their students. And it just reminds me that if I am worthy of a young person’s trust, I can probably trust myself too. This profession gives us the honor of being the looked-to, steadying force for young adults that need us. And when life’s calamities make us feel a little broken for a while, we can remember that we are the healers, and–especially with the help of one another–we can Teach ourselves how to cope, strengthen, and self-renew.

Words are medicine, art is life.

The Rhetoric of Humor

Sometimes when I reflect on my journey as an educator, I think back to my first evaluations as a student teacher. It’s so interesting to consider the things that used to take so much thought and energy which have now become second nature. But what I find even more interesting is that certain aspects of my teaching style from those very first days have remained exactly the same–the things that are intrinsic to my teaching persona and instincts. One of those things is laughter. I distinctly remember sitting down with my evaluating teacher-mentor after an observation in South Milwaukee, and the first thing she did was look at me, smile, and say, “I can tell you really just love teaching your students. You smile a lot. And you laugh a lot!”

It’s still so true. I talk a lot about the joy of teaching, but I really feel that we can’t talk about that enough. It’s just joyful to be in the company of young people, and to smile, laugh, and find ways to make learning enjoyable and… if at all possible… hilarious. Adolescents are, by nature, boisterous and tend to relish sarcasm and wit. This is a power that can (and does) get them in trouble, but it can also be a powerful tool for building rapport and igniting a desire to investigate language, if used correctly.

So, when my dear friend and teaching compatriot, Mr. M., asked what I thought about the idea of a sophomore-level humor unit, I was all in from day one. What followed sparked one of our most successful tenth grade units, and one that we’re lucky enough to be able to showcase at the WCTE conference this Friday. For those who attend the session (or for those who cannot make it in person), we’ve made the materials available here for you. You’ll find our rationale, a bibliography, a list of texts we utilized in class, student examples and more in the links below. We hope that you’ll enjoy building your own humor unit, and share ideas about how to add or modify what we’ve begun here. Thanks for visiting!

The Rhetoric of Humor:

Reading and Creating Comedic Texts to Enhance Student Writing, Literacy, and Community

Wisconsin Council of Teachers of English Annual Convention

Friday, October 12, 2012  ~   Madison, WI

Link to Google Presentation that overviews the essentials of our approach: click here!

Digital copy of handout from the conference: The Rhetoric of Humor handout

Additional formative and summative assignments from the unit: Additional Unit Materials

Six [totally awesome] Web Presentation Tools for Teachers at a Glance

I’m giving a session during my district’s aptly named “Summer Technology Extravaganza” entitled Six [totally awesome] Web Presentation Tools for Teachers at a Glance. If you’re a teacher like me, you get bombarded with periodic e-mails that tout these lists of “great” web resources for teachers throughout the school year. And we mean well when we get those e-mails, don’t we? We flag them to follow up on later. We might mention the e-mail to a co-worker at a department meeting, saying, “Hey, did you see Greg’s e-mail?” and “Oh, yeah, that stuff looks really cool. I definitely am going to check that out.”

But we almost never end up using those resources, for three main reasons: (1) We don’t have time, because we’re up to our ears in grading, lesson planning, collaborating, meeting with students, going to grad school or professional development seminars, and running extracurriculars. (2) Maybe we do make a little chunk of time to check out the list, but there are thirty-five items, and we get frustrated dealing with so many unfamiliar resources, some of which seem like a waste of time since we have zero idea about how to connect them to our own teaching. (3) Even if we do actually find a resource that seems usable, we realize that we have to put in a ton of time before we’ll be able to use it… which brings us back to reason #1, and we say “maybe next year.”

However, as teachers, we cannot allow ourselves to back away from new technology. We can’t afford to be afraid of it, since our students are pretty much capable of inventing some of these resources on their cell phones during our study hall! As someone once said, you can’t outrun a tidal wave… and that can be what technology feels like: a scary, overwhelming tsunami moving at the speed of light, ready to flatten us and our traditional ideas about teaching. However, I’m challenging us as educators to ride that dang wave, and turn it into something not so threatening, but rather, something TOTALLY AWESOME! Go with the surfer mentality. It’s all good, my friends.

But where do we start? Here’s where my session comes in. I’ve done the work for you–I isolated six web presentation tools that met a set of criteria that I established for total awesomeness. I wanted only tools that were immediately applicable to all areas of curriculum. I wanted things that would be fairly simple and satisfying for teachers to create, modify, and share. I wanted things that would retain their usefulness over time. Here are six.

Below, you will find a link to a table I’ve made that puts information about these sources into an “at a glance” format. You’ll be able to easily reference what the tool is, what it does, and how it could be used in the classroom. You will also get access to links for the actual websites so that you can sign up and start creating! Before you do that, though, I’ve also got links to some examples on the final page for your perusal. (Keep in mind that these are just samples, not Pulitzer or Golden Apple material.) It is my hope that my own hours of time narrowing the field of free web tools will help others in their teaching, and help some new surfers to get up on that wave. Try to learn and implement one new thing this year… even that is a huge accomplishment. Come on in, the water’s fine! At the live session, you even get me to come around, assist you, and personally answer your questions about how these contraptions work… :)

Click HERE-> Web Presentation Tools

Enjoy!

 

Shoutout: I owe many thanks for my preparation to Picky Reader. She gave me an amazing, and already annotated, list of web resources to start from. She’s an absolute guru when it comes to such things, so check out PickyReader.com.

 

 

Teaching Silko’s Ceremony: a balance of cultural responsibility and literary wonder

Most of us have read “that book”: the book that changes the course of our life or changes our mind or our hearts. For me, one of these books is Ceremony by Leslie Marmon Silko. I first read it in my sophomore year of college, and have been rereading it contemplatively ever since. For those who haven’t read it, it is difficult to explain exactly what gives this novel its incredible power… The language is gorgeous, but also gritty when it needs to be. The structure is non-traditional, interspersing oral poetry amidst a storyline that is cyclical, fragmented, and out of chronological order. The plot edges along the realm of the spiritual as well as the political, but really stays centered on the fate of one man, Tayo. The story is his ceremony of healing for an impossible wound, and in many ways he stands for much more than himself. In my eyes, every reading of this book is a ceremony of sorts, and it works on its readers in unique, spellbinding ways.

I could go on, but I think I’ve sufficiently conveyed my personal investment in this beautiful work of literature. So why do I bring it up now? Because I finally got to teach it for the first time this past semester! The decision to include Ceremony was an unexpected but strong compulsion—one that caused me to deviate from the original syllabus and made me require my students to buy the novel, since the school didn’t have copies. (This strategy is actually a good one in a pinch—used novels go for about one cent plus shipping on Amazon; since it was my last minute decision, I offered to cover costs for any students who legitimately couldn’t spare a few bucks.) That’s how bad I wanted to teach this book, and how convinced I was that this was the right time to teach it.

I did have some worries, though, as I contemplated how to present and teach the novel, which is so embedded in Pueblo culture, in a socially responsible way. Here’s a segment of an email I wrote to one of my former literature professors about my concerns:

I’m wondering about the sacred nature of so much that Silko weaves into her writing. I mean… “ceremony”, ritual, story… the whole thing is sacred. I guess I want to be able to help my students understand this culture that surrounds the narrative, this culture so foreign to their conservative, Christian, small town community. But I don’t feel qualified to do that in ways other than drawing from my own very basic knowledge or pointing them to (who knows what this even means:) internet resources. I fear presenting them with an oversimplifed charicature, which might actually be worse than leaving them completely in the dark. Especially since the Laguna are a very private cultural community, it seems intrusive as a non-member of their community to be spouting secondhand information about their religious beliefs in my classroom. At the same time, my students’ current knowledge of indigenous people is limited to Disney’s Pocahontas, superficial history textbooks, and (for some) local stereotypes about reservations. We’ve already been through Native Son, and other demanding texts dealing with cultural boundaries and the tension of power structures, so they’re used to me pushing on their worldviews. But Ceremony is new teaching territory for me. And I want to do it right.

My professor was kind enough to write me back, reassure me that my own respect for the story would likely translate, and recommend some resources, including “Special Problems in Teaching Leslie Marmon Silko’s Ceremony” (Allen 1990) and a chapter from Other Destinies: Understanding the American Indian Novel (Owens 1994). I also scouted out a fantastic, illuminating article by Silko herself, “Language and Literature from a Pueblo Indian Perspective” (1979). With these readings, I was able to figure out my teaching plan. Since I had a hard time locating any other high school teaching resources for Ceremony online, I figured I’d include some of the resources I created and approaches I used. Teaching this novel is a difficult but intensely rewarding process.

*My “Day One” presentation included information on the novel’s renown, the non-traditional structure of the book, connections to Laguna Pueblo culture, and some reminders about approaching indigenous writing. There is also an introductory discussion and writing activity at the end. [CEREMONYintro.]

*I had students freewrite about sacred spaces (this could be anything from grandpa’s garage to a secluded lake bluff to a church altar) to help them understand Tayo’s connection to his homeland. After sharing our writing, we talked about what makes a place “sacred” and how we would feel if anyone ever vandalized or violated our sacred spaces.

*As students read each section, I expected them to interact with the story in a blend of analysis and personal response. I created a response guide [ceremonyresponsequestions] to help them come prepared with writing for discussion. This helped immensely, as they came prepared to offer a variety of ideas in the discussions we had in class each day. I tried to stay as hands-off as possible, and my students generated many unique responses. [Click here for some samples of their response writing.]

*When it made sense, I shared segments of the scholarly articles mentioned above to help students understand why the book is written the way it is, and to enhance their understanding of the book’s cultural foundation.

*We did some drawing to help envision and talk about scenes. A very successful application of this was a sketch of Betonie’s cabin. This is a striking and important setting, and the things students included in their drawings helped them decode what could have been dismissed as a crazy man’s junk collection.

*We wrote an informal literary/comparative analysis of the lyrics to “The Humbling River” by Pucifer, interpreting and connecting the speaker’s struggles and realizations to those of Tayo. I provided the lyrics and played the song for my students while they wrote. Check out this gorgeous, haunting song. (However, fair warning: much of their other material is explicit. Tread carefully.)

While I have much to add and develop as far as this unit is concerned, many of my students came away with a love for the novel. This student’s writing shows one of the overall reactions that make me feel like I at least did partial justice to Ceremony, one of “those books:”

One of the most important or the most powerful messages that I got from Ceremony was about the interaction of the world. There are different levels, different worlds that all blend together, influencing the other worlds. These worlds involve the past, present, and future, the land, history, people, animals, witchery, love and so much more, but they are all circling and whirling around at the same time. When they are out of balance, there’s grief, almost like the nausea that Tayo experiences. Balance is achieved when these worlds align. The cycle continues in a circle, over and over, like the star picture in the book! This culture’s view of an individual as a part of the world rather than as a separate, detached being is striking.

Thank you, Leslie Marmon Silko, for your gift to us. If any other teachers out there have awesome ideas for teaching this novel, please leave us your ideas in the comments!

Writing Center Work Translates to Teaching: an interview

 

Interview at UW-Milwaukee

Earlier this year, I was happy to revisit the beautiful UW-Milwaukee Writing Center, where I worked as an undergrad, for an interview. The UWM Writing Center, which you can visit by going to The Writing Center Homepage, was one of my first steps as an educator, and has often translated into my teaching. [You can read even more about that in this post from last year.]

In the interview, which is the latest in an ongoing series of short interviews with current and alumni tutors, I was asked to describe how my work in the UWM Writing Center influenced my teaching career. Trust me when I say that these few minutes are just a fraction of what I was able to talk about! The idea of a writing center is a beautifully simple one–to provide a place where student writers can communicate with other, highly qualified student writers to receive feedback without the pressure or power dynamic of a student-instructor relationship. It’s a great idea for high schools, too. I hope that one day I’ll be able to work with my colleagues to start one at my own place of employment. If and when that happens, I’ll continue to draw from the rich supply of experience that I gained in the WC. :)

 

Speaking of Commencement

 I was given the great honor of being chosen as the commencement speaker for this year’s graduation ceremony at the school where I teach. While I was, of course, flattered and excited by the opportunity, I was also a bit daunted by the task initially. Graduation speeches are so often overly cliche, irrelevant to graduates’ actual lives, or simply forgettable. I really wanted to craft something that would transcend the pitfalls of the typical commencement speech, and say something worth saying. As teachers, I think all of us have a desire to pass on something memorable to our students. In the classroom, sometimes it works like a charm and sometimes it comes out as confusing gobbeldygook–it depends on the day! But at a graduation ceremony, it has to come out right, and I hoped that I’d be able to make it so.

Luckily, I was struck by inspiration when I saw a video showcasing a quote from Dr. Neil De Grasse Tyson, that hit a deep, resonating chord with me and sent me on my way to craft a speech that helped turn my love of stories and my love of science into one message for living, one that I was proud to share with the Class of 2012, their families, and many former and future students. It is a once in a lifetime opportunity to speak at a graduation, and the moment felt perfect to me. Something about being surrounded by my seniors from this year, as well as recieving enthusiastic congrats from last year’s returning seniors and the students I’ll have in my senior classes next year really created a feeling of continuity, of community, and family. Schools are more than just gathering places–things happen in them that unify young people and those who mentor them. 

The transcript of my June 3rd commencement speech is found below for (A) other educators who may be looking for an example commencement speech, (B) students who may want to look back and consider the words spoken on their graduation day, and (C) simple posterity. Thank you, Class of 2012, for this awesome chance to fill a special role in our school and local community!

Good afternoon! You know, as a teacher, I am very used to addressing young people, but today I get an introduction and applause? Man—I really don’t think I can go “back to before” now that this has happened. Thank you—that was lovely.

Pretty much the moment I became a teacher, I had people, for a whole variety of reasons, I’m sure, asking me why. You know: “Why did you become an English teacher? Why would you want to be that?” And while I’ve got many answers for that question, the most prominent one is this: I’m fascinated by the power of stories. When we read a book or view a film, we inhabit another life for a little while, and we see places, feel things, and think in ways that we might have never otherwise imagined. Stories have always played a role in forming our culture, and they still do—just look at the phenomenon surrounding The Hunger Games, Harry Potter, or The Lord of the Rings. Everyone is able to tap into the magic of story and gain something from it. Personally, many of my first revelations about life came from my incessant viewing of the original Star Wars trilogy on VHS. I will never forget the tiny, green, and wise creature Yoda explaining to the young, overeager Luke Skywalker how he could harness power from the world around him. “My ally is The Force,” he tells Luke. “And a powerful ally it is. Life creates it, makes it grow. Its energy surrounds us and binds us. Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter.” He pinches Luke’s shoulder at that last part. As a kid, I was fascinated by this idea that people could be more. You know… more than just a body, but rather a “luminous being” filled with the life force of everything around us. Of course, that’s just a story. But that’s the thing—while stories aren’t true, they point us toward a deeper understanding of truth and reality.

If we look closely, we discover that the world is full of metaphor—full of symbols to read and interpret. Sometimes these symbols are woven into a poem that I might share with my third hour class; other times they appear out here in our lives for us to observe. Often, things from the natural world inspire common symbols that are universally understood. One of these symbols is the star. Stars, as we all know, often stand for the ideas of excellence, or fate. Destiny. You can read this meaning ten thousand different times, from a certain Shakespearean play, where Romeo tells Benvolio “my mind misgives some consequence yet hanging in the stars” to the 2011 hit song “Written in the Stars” by hip hop artist Tinie Tempah. Stars also appear everywhere at graduations, on cards and balloons, signifying all that the graduates are destined to achieve. Stars, and humanity’s endless fascination with them, hint at that fact that our universe, too, can be a story in itself.

There’s perhaps nobody better to illustrate this idea than celebrated American astrophysicist and science ambassador Dr. Neil deGrasse Tyson. In an interview for TIME magazine, Dr. deGrasse Tyson was asked the challenging question “What’s the most astounding fact you can share with us about the universe?” His answer was something that really resonated with me, and I’d like to share it with you, Class of 2012. He said that the most astounding fact is that “the same atoms that comprise life on earth, the atoms that make up the human body […] carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, and all the fundamental ingredients of life”—are the same atoms that comprise the stars. He continues, saying, “…I look up at the night sky, and I know that yes, we are part of this universe, we are in this universe, but perhaps more important than both of those facts is that the universe is in us. When I reflect on that fact, I look up. Many people feel small, because they’re small and the universe is big, but I feel big, because my atoms came from those stars.” Now if that isn’t astounding, I don’t know what is. The same elements that make you, graduates, are the elements of the whole beautiful starry sky. That means that you are a star, literally! You are a luminous being—so much more than a crude shell. You are a part of a legacy as old as eternity, and you have a precious blip of time in which to fulfill it. And this exact moment in your life, as you transition from being a high school student to being an adult in our society, is the perfect time to consider it.

Now, by nature, stars develop, shift, and slowly scatter throughout the universe. Some of you will become scientists, some storytellers. Some will till the earth and help it grow. Some will negotiate the fast-paced obstacle course of economic markets. Some of you will invent new forms of cuisine. You might pledge yourself to art or medicine, education or religion, or service to your country. Or maybe you just want to earn an honest wage and live a simple life. We each pursue our own directions—like the universe, we are always expanding, shifting, changing and moving, as forces like this ceremony here today, act upon us. Today, you are an emerging star. You can feel yourself on the precipice of the unknown.

While this big moment is thrilling, it can also bring with it some very big uncertainties: things like, “How do I make use of this time I’ve been given, this space in front of me? How do I know what to do? How do I matter?” When we face these huge questions, even we stars are in danger of feeling small, insignificant, or lost. For many of you, this is your first solo journey, your first time being the decider of your own fate without anyone else directing your path. Before you cross this stage, I want to offer you a starchart, a bit of guidance to help you find your place in this incredible universe. This comes in the form of two things to remember.

The first thing to remember is that you are not only a star, but a star with a backpack full of useful things. A good question to ask yourself in any moment of decision is “Well, what have I got?” After twelve years of education, of algebra and literature and biology and history, you have a basic knowledge of the world around you. And after years’ worth of touchdown passes, opening nights, robot building, writing to meet deadlines, speaking as a part of your student organization, practicing the perfect serve, free throw, goal, or pace, or mastering songs with your instrument, voice, or dancing body, you’ve begun to taste what it’s like to create an effect that impacts others. And after surviving adolescence, you have started to explore those experiences that make up this thing called being human—the passions, the broken hearts, the wild joy, the dizzying freedom of choice, the pride of achievement, the pain of disappointment, and the restoration of hope and healing. You’ve been through these things, and you will recognize them when life sends them your way again.

So you’ve got quite a bit in your backpack, really… knowledge, skills, achievements, and the priceless insight that will one day, when you’re WAY older than me, turn into wisdom. That was the whole point of your childhood and your education—to make sure that you set off into life with a bit of a starter kit in your metaphorical backpack. Some things were handed to you, others you picked up yourself along the way. That’s the first comfort as you face this oncoming challenge of living up to your own universal legacy. You’ll always carry your past with you, and if you use it as a tool, you’ll be prepared for anything.

The second thing: If you still feel small as you face this expanse of universe before you, consider the idea, that you, young stars, are not alone in the cosmos. You’ll remember that Dr. deGrasse Tyson—the guy that reminded us of that astounding fact that people and stars are essentially made up of the same ingredients, said that he feels big instead of insignificant when he thinks about the sky. In that same interview, he goes on to tell us why. He says, “There’s a level of connectivity. That’s really what you want in life. You wanna feel connected. You wanna feel relevant. You wanna feel like you’re a participant in the activities and the goings-on around you. That’s precisely what we are, just by being alive.” Think about that and how amazing that is—that each of us has an intrinsic connection to the universe, and therefore to life, to all creation, and to one another. Sometimes we get so caught up in ourselves that we forget that fact.

When you go home today, and you begin the string of graduation celebrations with family and friends, the conversations will be in that language of individual achievement. Relatives will bombard you with many questions that all essentially mean “What are YOU going to do with YOUR life?” as if you are a comet rather than a star, with only one possible trajectory. You know, one shot… and it’s all on you. That can be a lot of pressure!  And while you might smile at Uncle Bill when he claps you on the back and says you’re headed for great things, you might find yourself lying awake at night wondering, “What will I really do with my life? Am I making the right choice? Am I heading in the right direction?” If and when that happens, remember that if we are all made of stardust, that old phrase “Reach for the stars” doesn’t actually mean to strain toward a single goal, but rather to reach out to each other. The possibilities of life are indeed infinite, but it’s a certainty that, just as the night sky is breathtaking because of the sheer number of stars overhead, our lives gain meaning because of the connections we make together. You can feel it here, in the overwhelming love that the all the people out here have for all the people up here. It’s part of our nature to be connected, and those connections give us power. So if you can find a way to serve others, to hold their hands along your way, you’ll no doubt find your individual path in the process.

So I’ll leave you with the astounding fact that there is a star in every last one of you, and I wish you blessings and luck as you find your places in the universe. Welcome to adulthood.