8.5.09

Blogging to Learn

Students and teachers the world around are intimately familiar with the journal response. Journaling, which sounds interesting and self-reflective at first, quickly loses its charm after years of text-based prompts and required responses. Students begin to loathe journals, and the teachers are rarely enchanted by the work the students return (and here, I speak from experience on both sides).

In my own teaching, I'm experimenting with different ways to make journals exciting. Morning warm-ups, which are typically modeled after response-and-answer journals, will focus on both personal and textual questions in an attempt to keep the routine interesting. I'm currently trying dialogic journals with my students, where they are tasked with writing a response to one or more questions before exchanging journals and responding to another student's answers. Students have a clear, defined audience beyond the teacher, which is an audience they tend to care more about impressing. When students know their words will be read by people, and not just graded and tossed aside, students are more conscientious about the quality of work they produce.

One way to incorporate novelty, excitement and a clear audience into journaling is to move the entire process online. Blogs, like this very blog you read now, allow a forum for students to respond to complex questions. When they publish that response, they are adding their own ideas to the class' understanding of the text, and they have an opportunity to informally respond to one another. Students are also working in a medium they are extremely used to . . . almost every student has written their own blog to extend their own thoughts and feelings on a subject. The familiarity helps to make a traditionally tedious process - journal response - seem simpler and more engaging.

24.4.09

Creating Fiction . . . A Whole Other Story

Writing about literature can sometimes take the fun out of literature. It typically adds an entirely different dimension to the enjoyment of the text; as you uncover new elements, connections and subtexts, the piece can unfold for you in a wonderful way. Sometimes, though, you get bogged down in form and mechanics - the structural elements of writing that every author works with.

It is a knowledge of these structural elements, however, that can aid in creating cohesive pieces of your own.

Writing about literature requires deep reading, and the ability to perform these deep readings can inform one's writing. It is a similar process for both actions, only reversed. Deconstruction offers a model for this: rather than picking apart and following the interconnected threads during analysis, you are selecting and weaving your threads during composition.

For a student learning the process of textual analysis, asking them to create a complex text and explain their own thinking and intent during the writing process gives them insight into some of the goals of deep reading and writing about literature. They are able to see that there is a deliberateness in writing, and that nothing is accidental. We select words for a certain effect, and as such we should measure the affect of certain words on the reader. We have our characters make specific choices to create conflict and move the plot along, and so we know to look for places of conflict and climax when reading a text. Allowing students to work with the structure gives them insight into what the structure actually is.

27.3.09

Making Mythology (and other genres, too!)

Mythology operates in the realm between fantasy and reality, where the two world touch just enough to allow a sense of whimsy and yet adhere to some basic laws of existence. There is an element of infinite possibilities controlled by some supreme logic, either in the form of a godhead or an intelligent universe. Mythology also seeks to examine some of the essential questions of life: Who are we? Where did we come from? Why are we here? What do we do while we are here? What happens when we leave?

When reading a myth, the reader accepts these rules as part of the “genre,” so to speak, and this provides a framework in which the amazing events where titans fight and worlds are destroyed exist without too much questioning or skepticism. In some cases, the framework is so effective that the mythologies become religious structures, and inform entire world views.

When writing a myth, however, the rules and structure become a burden and a guide. It is supremely difficult to identify an essential question and find a “workable” answer or justification. However, it is very easy to create a myth where no sense of “universal” or “ultimate” logic resides, and therefore following the typical themes and focuses of existing mythology is helpful. Writing a myth requires just as much brainstorming time as actual work time. In the end, we end up asking more questions about the potential myth than we actually ask in the myth.

However, this exercise in frustration and creation has taught me more about the purposes and goals of mythology than reading and analyzing myths in high school. I think, from my own teaching perspective, providing the students opportunities to create as well as study myths gives them a personal experience and attachment to mythology as a genre. And, as many teachers know, whenever you can connect academic content to a student’s experience the overall engagement is much, much higher.

Incidentally, creating a written product from an existing model works for many, many types of literary genres. Students can write myths, Gothic horror stories, sonnets, epic poems (within reason), plays . . . and the results are often incredible. Some of the best takes on Shakespeare I’ve ever seen have come from students I’ve observed over the past few years. My own students will definitely try their hand at writing some (new) classics.

8.3.09

Poe-et

I am not a poet. I could be, I suppose, but I'm not. I just don't. The last time I wrote poetry, I was 13 and it was terrible. Teenaged, tortured, terrible.

I am, however, extremely analytical. Perhaps that was why my poetry was so awful, but it has certainly helped me in my lifelong career as a book worm. As a student and a teacher, my willingness to pick apart language and stretch it to its breaking point has been a benefit. I don't write poetry, but I am certainly comfortable studying it. I will gladly run through lines and measure images, tone, and allusions. I drive my own students crazy with my ceaseless desire for more insight, more understanding.

I think I've ruined Poe for them forever.

Because of this never-ending zeal for analysis, I look at the writing of poetry a lot differently. Instead of finding the tone, I was expected to construct it. Instead of studying images, I needed to create them.

There is a lot more involved in that than it seems. I got frustrated quickly. I wanted to make the poems short and give in. I began to envy, and even loathe, famous and able poets like Poe and Whitman. I marveled at the words of my peers, and sat awestruck when meeting a truly beautiful poem. I was in wonder at the creation of a poem.

And somehow, despite the frustration, I regained some of the joy that poetry can provide. Words can exist to delight; they're not just tiny puzzles waiting for the right reader. Beautiful poetry or prose is a difficult art and it can never be mastered. It can, however, be enjoyed by everyone.

Writing a poem makes you appreciate the artistry of those who can actually write poetry.

With some structure, students can try their hand at poetry. Like me, I'm sure they'll share in the frustration and pea-green envy. However, they will also experience some of that joy of language, and delight in the creations of their peers as much as they do their own. When students write poetry, it helps to bring poetry down from some high-minded, intellectual function of other people to a personally appreciable level. In short, poetry becomes far more accessible.

26.1.09

And in the spirit of new starts . . .

One of the many items on my mental plate over the last few years has been the state of our schools. The big question has been, essentially, what kind of environment will I teach in? I've read enough Kozol and watched enough documentaries to fear the impact of underfunded schools, of which there are far too many. It's one thing to implement tough standards; it's quite another to make sure the conditions needed for success are created and sustained.

So here's to the hope that the change happening now finds its way into the schools that desperately need it.

And now, a brief clip from last week's amazing inauguration.