Imagine a book bursting with post-its, marked sections, and planned stops for pulling students into the world of these new characters and their stories. I carry all that in my bag as we return to school after winter break. Of all the plans I have for the next two months, this read-aloud holds the majority of my ever-growing expectations—most of which will probably be too hard to achieve because I do that to myself.
I think the reason I expect so much from each read-aloud is that I always see myself among my students, hands holding my face, eager to listen to a new story. I picture a young Ana ready to be asked questions and be provoked with ideas about why a character did a particular thing or reacted the way they did.
It’s complete selfishness. I can count on two hands the memories I have of someone reading a book to me, so when I plan read-aloud, my expectations go alongside my students’ needs.
As I plan, I become excited about story elements that will be a central focus as we read the first chapters. Who are these characters? What will we learn about them? What is happening to them? Do they have a desire that is obvious from the beginning, or do we need to read more to find that out with them? Will they tell us, or will we have to think extra hard and put clues together?
As we go deeper into the world of their story, what are we noticing about our character’s relationships? Who influences them? Who stands in their way? Is there someone they lean on and trust? Does that person have good intentions? How does our dear character change because of those relationships?
At this point, post-its begin to overlap across multiple pages because, as we ride up the rising conflict, we get more and more details that, if we blink, we might miss. “Whoa… Readers, I think I need to go back and reread that part. I’ll do it slowly and picture the scene in my mind… I can almost hear them!”
Picture yourself riding a rollercoaster. Up and up you go, up and very slowly, before being yanked down by sudden events that will come very fast.
Each day we finish reading new chapters, we collect predictions, inferences, and opinions on our big story arc and other charts we use to capture our thoughts about the story. We think and write about the approaching climax, and most readers write those predictions assertively, even if they often forget to back up their ideas.
“Noooo! Read the next one! Please!” most will shout in unison when I close the book with a sigh and place it in my lap—stretching that momentum and reminding us to stop to soak it in before that big event rushes over us. It often ends with, “I knew it!” while others might say, “wait, whaaaat?!” Also, a favorite of mine, “Is there a book 2?”
That’s the joy; to create such a reading experience for children that most wouldn’t seek themselves. We read a book that some wouldn’t pick off a shelf or try after reading the first two chapters. We gift them the joy of a marvelous story and the community to unpack it (although I should find a way to bring back the “turn & talk”)
There is a special place in my heart for interactive read-aloud. The one Christy taught me. The one I never want to stop planning and doing.
I hope this read-aloud goes the same way for my current class. It’s the second time I read it to 4th-graders, so I bring all my experiences from last year and new ideas to spark their thinking about stories. I also have a list of mistakes I made last year and enough flexibility (just a tiny bit) to allow myself some not-so-great read-aloud days.
See you in a few hours, Joe and Ravi.
Start with a Story 