Districts and English departments are scrambling for “diverse” books–while some of us have been doing this work, time to continue and support.
I’m going into year 15 next school year, and during this time I can vouch that I continue to seek answers and strive to be a better teacher for my students. This is built on my master’s thesis, which was using engaging children’s literature–I contend this was a solid foundation for my practice. But I’m out of patience waiting for others to catch up. And I’ve encountered this request and steerage multiple times. I’m not a patient person by nature anyway, or so I’ve been told by a friend. It would be my life lesson. I’m beginning to think patience, when it comes to children and education, is highly overrated and is not, as painted, a virtue, but a sin.
We don’t have years to wait. We shouldn’t have to wait months. If you are a content creator, this is your warning. Think about your books. Blog posts. Tpt products. Go back w your new lens. What should go or be revised? And how can you be transparent about that process? https://t.co/gB0soHTklT
— Adrienne Brandenburg (@AdrienneBranden) June 22, 2020
I would add that I am here for any conversation about books, novels, problematic texts, and the approved “canon.” Districts and district leadership: I beseech you: do not make it so difficult to get great literature written by BIPOC writers in our classrooms. We don’t have time to wait.
1/Having been forced to teach it (or lose my job), I can say that this has given me a lot of thought.
White teachers: if you’re not forced to teach these texts, what reasons do you have to justify this?
Sag Harbor is 11 yrs old, but it’s a side of CWhitehead that might surprise readers that know only his two most recent novels. AND it’s about the summer AND an African American setting that many readers might not know exists https://t.co/3XIFvnrNDO#DisruptTexts#SummerReading
— Joel /hō•ÉL/ Garza is cofounder of #THEBOOKCHAT 📓 (@JoelRGarza) June 10, 2020
When I first began teaching, I used a lot of picture books. I still do, actually; I didn’t this past year as much because well, it was this past year. One book I loved as a read aloud was Skippyjon Jones by Judith Byron Schachner. And something didn’t sit right after a few readings. And then the book was panned by critics, and yes, it’s racist. No question about it. So, out it went. I never read it again or shared it. Know better, do better (Angelou).
Let’s start taking a look at how books impact our students. If white kids are only taught a narrow narrative about enslaved Blacks, that narrow line of thinking will shrink their critical thinking and empathy processes. And since I taught 7th and 8th grade most of my teaching career, this quote from Nic Stone took my breath away. Is this why my students stop reading in 8th grade, because they’re tired of waiting for books, mirrors, and sliding doors (Rudine Sims Bishop)?
Up until that point, required reading was either minimal or animal—shout-out to Mrs. Frisby and her NIMH-ish rats—but then eighth grade hit. And I started to disappear.
Nic Stone, “Don’t Just Read About Racism–Read Stories About Black People Living.”
What happens when we as reading teachers don’t want to read a book?
Deeply interesting and engaging thread in Betsy Potash’s Creative English high School Teachers page on Facebook today concerning American Dirt by Jeanine Cummins. And while I’ll post links and resources, the big question I’m left with comes from the pushback I received from another teacher, to the point I should not be allowed to voice criticism unless I’ve read the book.
Is that accurate? Do we always have to read the book before we decide something, or what media to consume?
Have you ever tried to make a toddler eat? I know a few wonderful toddlers who don’t like macaroni and cheese, preferring broccoli and other vegetables. My own sons as toddlers has some quirky eating habits. The older one hated spaghetti and most pasta, including macaroni and cheese. He loved peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. The younger one wasn’t picky, and his preference for junk food became a battle. But they did know their own minds, even if they didn’t have the words or vocabulary to articulate their discerning tastes. And over time, they did try new things and expand their palettes.
Our students don’t like to read. They don’t. Why? Many reasons. They struggle, it’s not entertaining for them, book culture seems odd and foreign to some, and oftentimes they don’t see themselves reflected in the novels many districts push. The texts are not ‘window, mirrors, or sliding glass doors’ (Rudine Sims Bishop).
But if you ask them about certain movies, stories, or their own interpersonal relationships and what keeps and breaks friendships, what keeps them faithful or what does betrayal look like and do, they will have plenty to say. And then we can work together on what they might like to read, on what burning questions they have that books and texts can help to inform and enlighten, and challenge, then you can have them try something they might not have before. And they might find that it’s like food they don’t like. (How many teachers have done ‘book tastings’ — did you get offended when a student chose one book over another? Of course not.)
Then why was it that the thought that a grown adult woman, (me), who listened to literary criticism of a novel and found it deeply resonating and informative, and chose not to spend my money on this book or read it, why was that so offending to some in that thread? (They hadn’t read it either.)
So many conclusions jumped to…
If you’re like me, your #TBR pile is miles deep. I’ve probably read over 700 books in my lifetime. Heck, even the scant posts on Goodreads tells me I’m at 396, and that hasn’t tracked my reading life. At what point do we allow students to make these choices for themselves? Rather, at what point as an adult am I allowed to read a critic or review and make up my own mind? Full disclosure: I hate to read movie reviews, and despise trailers that give away too much. But I still love movies, and get most of my recommendations from my sons. I guess I didn’t realize there was a number to being allowed to state clearly “I am not going to read this book.”
And when Esmeralda Bermudez said it reminded her of a novella I bust out laughing in the car. We (me and my students) put on novellas in class during Study Skills the other day, and of course I got my ‘teacher all over it’ because I am compelled to make connections to body language, facial expressions, etc., and themes of love, betrayal, despair, romance, etc. (We had just finished Romeo and Juliet.) And I don’t disparage the girls in my class and watching novellas. I spent countless hours with my mom and then into college watching All My Children and Guiding Light.
But what I am not going to do is read this book. Too many other things to read and watch. If that means I have a fixed mindset, okay. I’m good. In the meantime, I’m going to look for other, better books with authentic voices and perspectives about immigration.
We should allow our students to have their own tastes, too. All we need to do is tell them their tastebuds might change over time, and be flexible. After a few hundred books, I’m still flexible. But I want quality, not quantity, now. And Oprah’s recommendations don’t mean what they used to, either.
I remember how during sophomore year, my English class read Night by Elie Wiesel while we learned about the Holocaust in World History. After we finished the book, we read the author’s Nobel Peace Prize acceptance speech. I don’t remember the exact words, but I remember how he said something about how if people don’t speak out when something wrong is happening—wherever in the world—they’re helping whoever is committing that wrong by allowing it to happen. Our class discussed the idea, and almost everyone agreed with it, even me. At least, we said we did. Never mind the fact we all knew most of us didn’t even say shit when we saw someone slap the books out of a kid’s hands in the hallway. In fact, the most outspoken supporter of the idea during the discussion was a kid who did that kind of dumb stuff all the time and thought it was hilarious.
Patron Saints of Nothing by Randy Ribay
One of the countries I know little about is the Philippines, and I’m ashamed of this. The only thing I was aware of is the death toll from Duterte’s dictatorship, a man our current “president” admires. Well, makes sense: both are vile, sexual predators with a knack for domestic terrorism. My former student teacher, L, family is from the Philippines, as are over a hundred thousand in Washington State, and during the election year her fears for her family for supporting Tr*** were well founded. In other words: there are a lot of parallels.
But we all know these aren’t abstract headlines: the terror they inflict and promote affects our students’ lives in concrete and harmful ways. However, I am not a spoiler: so no more plot points, or character analysis. I will leave you to enjoy this masterful novel. What I will do, though, is gather and curate some of the other art and poetry mentioned in the novel, so if you decide to add this to your classroom library, these resources will be available:
Artwork:
The Spoilarium by Juan Luna, 1884, National Museum of Fine Arts, Manila
For those of us who live at the shoreline standing upon the constant edges of decision crucial and alone for those of us who cannot indulge the passing dreams of choice who love in doorways coming and going in the hours between dawns looking inward and outward at once before and after seeking a now that can breed futures like bread in our children’s mouths so their dreams will not reflect the death of ours;
Moss sat up and glanced over at Martin. “No, I didn’t! I don’t remember that at all.” Martin laughed. “Man, you were a mouthy kid,” he said. “You know you refused to sit in a booster seat?” “You’re kidding, man.” Martin shook his head. “You said you wanted a seat like all the others. You were grown, you said. So you wanted a cut just like them. And your dad supported you, too. He loved how much it annoyed me.” “Sounds like Papa,” Moss said, and he sighed. “I miss him so much.” “Me too, Moss,” said Martin, and he sighed. “Me too.” “I don’t remember that day,” said Moss. “I guess there’s a lot I don’t know.” “We all have memories of your father,” Martin said.
Oshiro, Mark. Anger Is a Gift (p. 388). Tom Doherty Associates. Kindle Edition.
Anger is a Gift by Mark Oshiro is a smoldering pain to fire novel: I won’t reveal any spoilers save for one: read it, and then please pay close attention to the author’s recommendations for other readings.*
Some ideas for introducing this novel, and helping students lead discussions:
The school administrators were complicit in many of the events of the novel. Consider exploring the school systems of institutionalized racism that create the deadly and damaging consequences.
Regarding the novel: What do you think happened to the school administration? What was their role in the events? Esperanza’s parents: intent versus impact discussion.
But that is what we have to work with as part of our GVC. And while there are many good tools, it’s been a welcome challenge to roll up my shirt sleeves and get back to what I do well, and that is bridge what “has to be taught” with why is taught.
I cannot thank the wonderful educators on my query post who came to my rescue. Facing History and Ourselves: To Kill A Mockingbird is a breathtaking unit: simple, organized and incredibly rich. Anyone who loves to design curriculum should review it and cherish it as a masterwork.
Some things I’ve put together are co-constructed anchor charts on theme theories/inquiries, and my Chapter Expert Project. Hey, if I can get 120 students to jigsaw The Hobbit, I certainly can provide the structure for 60 to scaffold TKAM.
Inspired by Catlin Tucker: Thematic ThrowdownLearning is messyThis simple structure can help scaffold theme statements.
The process is fairly simple: have students work in pairs or groups of three, and find key words from the chapter. Collect those words, and then they choose three they think are the most important. From Chapter 5, many found ‘religion, religious differences, God, sin, garden, weed,’ etc. From this, one student thought that the noxious weed in Miss Maudie’s garden was important, and that led us to think that yes, it was–symbolic of the festering racism in the town and needed to be rooted out.
“Sometimes the Bible in the hand of one man is worse than a whisky bottle in the hand of (another)… There are just some kind of men who – who’re so busy worrying about the next world they’ve never learned to live in this one, and you can look down the street and see the results.”
We’re getting through TKAM with help of the graphic novel, audiobook, movie, and discussions. We haven’t had a chance to go too deeply into some burning questions and ideas that I have or Facing History explores. But we are getting there.
Slowly.
And all the while, we are hoping to be able to watch THUG if it comes out on Netflix, and I get parent permission slips. *Fingers crossed*
Is anyone going to understand, aside from other teachers, how amazing what happened is? For all the ills of social media, there is so much good. Note to new and veteran teachers: find your PLN (professional learning network) via social media, and expand your thinking and horizons.
Here is what happened: my district uses packaged novel units based on another district’s work, or now a business, called EL or Expeditionary Learning. The program has many benefits, one of which each student (or scholar as they are known in the district) receives a copy of the central text. There are four modules, each with more lessons than is possible, and the intent is to provide some flexibility and professional judgment in the how to teach, but not the what, and the assessments are ironclad. We first taught Inside Out and Back Again by Thanhha Lai, and I followed the pacing guide and time frame and came out of it three weeks ahead of my PLC colleagues. No matter–I forged ahead with more essay and creative writing until winter break began on December 21.
Well, break is over on Monday, January 7th, and To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee is our next Module of Study, titled “Taking a Stand.” Being a Grants/Wiggins fangirl, I am all about the concepts of Enduring Understandings and Essential Questions. But–
…but–To Kill A Mockingbird?
My relationship with the novel is probably typical of a little white southern girl with liberal, progressive parents–I loved it. I loved Scout. I loved the bravery, and the characters, the mystery, the strength, and the suspense. I can’t remember when I first read it if it was a choice or assigned, but I see a wavering fog of memory of some teacher and I connecting over my lightbulb moment of why Mrs. DuBose chose to go off her morphine toward the end of her life. The novel taught me so many things, and I am grateful to Harper Lee for this novel. And to this day, it holds a special place in my heart. However, we paradoxical humans can and should hold two or more truths at once, and over the past year or so (long before I knew I would switch districts and be mandated to teach the novel), many respected educators questioned and criticized this novel. I learned and listened to new perspectives and considerations, many of which hold important truths. Truths about race, racism, misogyny, and injustice masquerading as justice.
I had this amazing professor in college. He was Sri Lankan, teaching the required Brit Lit class from the POV of colonized people. He gave us “Heart of Darkness” and said:— Tom Rademacher (@MrTomRad) January 2, 2019
“This book is a racist piece of crap. I want you to read it because I want you to know what a racist piece of crap it is.” We read the book and had amazing discussions, using it as a central text to talk about white gaze and other things. So, teach, but teach context.— Tom Rademacher (@MrTomRad) January 2, 2019
I’m just listening in but I do think if you have to teach a problematic text, then you teach it as a vehicle to learn a critical reading process that allows kids to identify other problematic texts out in the world. Because they WILL encounter them.— Jess (@Jess5th) January 2, 2019
When Jess@Jess5th tweeted this –I knew I found the center focus.
The responses received fill my heart. With the deepest of gratitude, I must acknowledge @MrTomRad, @Jess5th, @debreese, @Ebonyteach, @CrazyQuilts, @Caitteach, @ShanaVWhite, @JenniferBinis, @spencerideas, @TheJLV, @ValerieBrownEDU, @triciaebarvia and if I missed anyone, my apologies. You all came to the conversation, and this-this is what I’ll share with my scholars first — we are all learning together, and trying to do better, and ask the big, tough questions.
The plan, such as it is, when we come back on Monday, January 7, in the midst of adolescents who’ve been homebound for two weeks (most of them) caring for younger siblings and doing whatever it is kids do over rainy breaks when resources are limited, and the building expectations PowerPoints that must be shown, is to let them first take and get reoriented, but also–share what happened. How other teachers discussed their ideas, openly and freely. I intend to pair this text with my #projectlit collection, of course, and allow students to find their own relationship with To Kill A Mockingbird along with other paired texts and discussions. I want so much for them.
If you would like the resources and ideas shared, please go to Twitter and follow me, and click on the discussion thread: @mrskellylove
We teachers have full, wonderful lives outside of teaching. I think. Sure we do! YES! We most definitely do! And why let all the wonderful folks such as Barack Obama create a list!? Here’s my challenge, inspired by @jarredamato, the leader of #ProjectLit:
What if all leaders — politics, education, business, you name it — shared their own lists each year? https://t.co/6N9bkDI2aY
When a friend posted Obama’s list today, I immediately went to i-Tunes and grabbed some of the songs I liked. Dang, I used to be such an aficionado of new music! What happened?
What did we watch? Well, Black KKKlansman, Black Panther, Hereditary, A Quiet Place, Isle of Dogs, Bird Box, (read the book first, dang it!) Game Night (eye roll), Solo and whatever comes out on Netflix. Shows include Ozark, Sabrina, Black Mirror, Stranger Things, The Haunting of Hill House, Making a Murderer, Jessica Jones, Series of Unfortunate Events, Vikings, Game of Thrones, all of the American Horror Stories, Better Call Saul, Barry, and started Dark. (I feel like there are some missing, but oh well.)
Music
Some songs I added (not new to 2018 necessarily, but new to me):
In addition to consuming media, I like to create media, too! I love to write and make collage images.
@cmclymer tweeted this fun thing – what would your two accessories be?
A toy company makes a replica action figure of your likeness. What two accessories do they include?— Charlotte Clymer🏳️🌈 (@cmclymer) December 27, 2018
So thank you, Jarred and Charlotte, for some fun ideas. I’m not anyone important, but I am a teacher, and living my best, creative life helps me, my family, and my students. It is my personal oxygen mask.
What do the middle years of teaching look like, because I am in the thick of it now? Do they come with a mix, much like the middle of a marriage or middle of life, where we know just enough to feel competent, still open to new ideas, and enough doubt to gnaw at our knowledge?
Last week my new district offered two full days of new hire training. The training sessions offered overviews of their pillars, including a brief introduction to the IT department, ELL, ELA, and their prescriptive reading program, IRLA, or Independent Reading Level Assessment developed by the American Reading Company. I am looking forward to helping students become stronger readers with this program, and will sort out some confusion as I move through it with students. Kelly Gallagher’s Readacide was recommended during this session, and immediately I thought of how Gallagher might push back on the notion his work would be used in a prescribed context.
I know one of my new colleagues levels her classroom library, too, and it was suggested by a leader that I might want to do the same, and I thought about it, and this is where that muddy middle-years teacher speaks up: no, I don’t think so. But what would be the harm?
Fountas and Pinnell were my gurus when I began teaching, as Nancie Atwood (especially The Reading Zone) and Kylene Beers and Bob Probst have shaped my reading instruction tremendously.
But one thing I don’t want to do is create a culture where students only choose books “at their level.” What does that even really mean?!
Research says that students should spend most of their time in ‘just right’ or ‘at their level’ books, but that research does not say to limit students and what they would like to read,” says Pernille Ripp, creator of the Global Read Aloud and author of Passionate Learners: How to Engage and Empower Your Students (Routledge, 2015).
And my other reading hero, Donalyn Miller:
Donalyn Miller, author of Reading in the Wild: The Book Whisperer’s Keys to Cultivating Lifelong Reading Habits (Jossey-Bass, 2013), has called leveling “educational malpractice.” Schools have gone too far, she believes. “There is a lack of fundamental understanding by many educators about the limitations of leveling systems and their role in children’s reading development,” she says. “Matching children with books solely by reading level removes the teacher’s responsibility for knowing much about children’s literature or teaching children meaningful strategies for self-selecting books beyond level.”
When I’m in my book club, no one ever, not once, asks me what my reading level is.
In a 2012 article for Reading.org, “Guided Reading: the Romance and the Reality”, Fountas and Pinnell cautioned that they “never recommended that the school library or classroom libraries be leveled or that levels be reported to parents.” Using leveled texts in classrooms following the “A to Z” matrix, Lexile, or other systems, however, seems to contradict this advice, as educators report that more schools are leveling, with some districts mandating it. Teachers often discuss individual reading levels with their students, and some let students know one another levels.
I am coming to the point, promise.
Last night, in a short time, I read Wishtree by Katherine Applegate. It is far below my “reading level” and I suspect many of my middle school students’, too. The book is illustrated, and on a text complexity chart would not rank as very complex.
But that is incredibly deceptive.
Wishtree is what I wish The Giving Tree was–a beautiful story about friendship, family, longevity, and bravery. And if someone told me it was “too low” for me to read I would be indeed, disempowered. I don’t want to put a number on my personal classroom library books: I want the texts to draw students in and have them count on their own intuition, thin-slicing, and desire to read a book. If it’s too challenging (Black Diamond slope, as Lucy Calkins would say) then there is no shame in putting it down for the time being and moving on. The reading instructional time is devoted to creating readers with a rich reading life: explicit skills and strategies, with the desire to find things and curiosity that speaks to their lives.
So: I will keep asking — please contribute to my classroom library of mirrors and windows for students. A reading life isn’t built on levels alone, but the view when we can see all around us.
You’re 8 years old.
Your 3rd grade class orders chinese food & your father delivers it. You are so excited to see your pops in school. He’s your hero. But apparently other kids don’t think he’s so cool. They laugh at him and mimic his accent. You don’t want to be Chinese anymore. pic.twitter.com/6vW9DXZK6x
Yesterday in one sitting I read Inside Out & Back Again by Thanhha Lai: it’s a short verse novel, so saying I finished it quickly is a silly boast. The story, light in words but heavy with my response and reaction. This is a beautiful story.
For the first time in my teaching life, my new district has a prescripted curriculum. There are four modules and four novels, and though one of them is not my choice (Unbroken by Laura Hildebrand) I know I’ll jump in and give every novel my best. There is so much to dig through here, and I’m thrilled it’s the first novel we begin with: culture, fear, family, longing, sorrow, joy, bigotry, and kindness of such a magnitude it brought me to tears (when you read it you’ll know what part.)
I will share Kimberly Yam’s story and any others that my friends and family want to offer. I will share my own story of being new, confused and trying to fit in as quickly as possible. But mostly I will ask students to share. What an amazing beginning.
