Parents began gathering outside our classroom at 9:25 am while students prepared themselves to welcome them. I stepped outside and asked them to come close because I had a gift to offer.
I said, “Most adults, whether we’re educators or not, have a natural lens through which we see students’ writing. That lens makes us notice some things before others, like typos or funky punctuation. Today, we want to offer you a new and different lens; let your children tell you what that is and how it’ll work. But most of all, celebrate their growth and enjoy listening to their explanations.”
I have a lot of experience with parents worrying about spelling errors during a writing celebration, so I knew this was an important message to deliver before they walked into the room. Authors were ready for them; they had their writing folders filled with lists, revised drafts, multiple leads they rehearsed, and fully tallied checklists. They also showed parents their notebooks and where their ideas came from, the mini-charts they used to work on their drafts, and the goals we set throughout the unit.
Writers were intentional in their presentation of our writing process, explaining each phase and the work they each did during revision. As I walked around the room, I saw smiles, eyes filled with wonder, and arms around children who felt each of the compliments they received. No one rushed to read their published essay. They truly enjoyed reflecting on the journey, which inspired me greatly—what a wonderful day.
The next day, I asked students to write one final On-Demand piece. No one asked if they needed to think of a new idea; instead, they said, “We have forty-five minutes, right?” To me, this was the first indication of collective growth.
As I graded their writing, I had to pause to read to Tim because their pieces were filled with their personality and signs of my teaching. What I kept thinking was, “I don’t need these to be all at grade level; I just need to see that each of them grew somehow.” And they did.
I waited until all pieces were graded to input the data into my spreadsheet, switching colors from red to yellow, green, and even blue. Every single one of my students grew at least a whole grade level, and that, to me, is everything.
Looking back, I can point at the days I would change, the mini-lessons I would rethink, and the strategies I would reconsider, but I’m not doing much of that right now. Instead, I’m taking all these posts to plan forward. This week, and the one after Spring Break, we’ll get to explore new writing ideas with a quick Creative Writing mini-unit, and then we’ll launch the Literary Essay: Writing about Fiction.
I can’t wait.
Start with a Story 