52.

It is conference week, friends, so it's very busy.  I have a quick story to share.

I always say that I am about building life-long readers, not life-long test takers, and I design my reading instruction that way.  I try to make reading a privilege and invite kids to try new books they might like.  I try to make close-reading a good experience to have so we can learn something about ourselves through literature--not so we can guess someone else's interpretation.   Students ask questions instead of answering them.  This is not always the best type of reading instruction for test preparation, and this year's political climate has make me second-guess what I'm doing--not a lot, but certainly enough to lose a little sleep over.

So I really needed this parent last night.

I needed her to sit down at my table and say, "I don't know what you did, but Luke is a reader now.  He asked for books for Christmas--full of small print and historical facts.  When we asked him if he was sure, he said, 'Yes.  I want to read about it because I want to learn about it.' He goes to his room at night to read for a half hour.  He never did these things before.  So thank you."

Luke would not be doing these things if my reading instruction were made of multiple choice questions to answer.

51.

Today we shared books with each other as a break from the difficult research essay writing we've been doing and as a way to jazz up our independent reading.

We used the format of a book pass, where students all bring a book (I also threw several in from my classroom library and the school library), and we pass them around in small groups, giving kids a chance to have exposure to 50 or more texts in a single class period.

The discouraging thing about teaching is when a couple students in each class go through the motions of looking at a couple books in each basket and then sit with a blank page in front of them.

It gets more encouraging when students with discerning taste walk out with three or four books on their lists.  They will have a book on the back burner, and maybe they will even look forward to it.

My favorite part about a book pass, however, is when students (and this is at least a third in each class) are just hungry for reading material, and they write down 20-30 books.  One student in my last class of the day couldn't wait to check something out from the classroom library: she had to take it home that night.

A hunger for books is what I hope to instill in as many students as I possibly can.

32.

On my second snow day, a blast from the past.  This is one of my favorite memories from teaching at my old school.

The primary goal of the field trip was to connect kids with resources.  This was an equity issue.  It was a city, and our population was hugely diverse in economic resources, race, and languages spoken.  There were small branch libraries.  Students could use public transportation to get there.  If they had access to a library, they had access to a computer, books, after-school homework help.  This was huge.

After helping students map routes using public transportation to their local branch, we all took public transit to the library that day.  It was everything you might imagine: thirteen year old girls huddled around poles and squealing at every turn, me constantly reminding students that we weren't the only ones on the bus, eventually giving up.  For those fifteen minutes, my kids reinforced every stereotype the three elderly passengers had about teenage students.

But they couldn't see my kids once we got inside.  They didn't see their footsteps suddenly soften when we entered the modern atrium.  They didn't see their eyes widen at the computers upstairs, the vast shelves of material they could take home for free, the absolute kindness in the librarians' eyes (I'm convinced that most librarians are actually saints).  They didn't see smirks turn to grins as library cards were passed out.  They didn't see my rowdiest boys fight the temptation to play in the fountain as they ate sack lunches because we were at the library, and you acted civilized.  

They didn't see the long-term impact, months down the road when I asked kids if they could work on this assignment at home.  "Do you have a computer?" I'd say.

"No, but I'll go to the library."

Yes.

We waited at the bus stop for our public transportation to take us home.  We had to make this bus in order to get the kids back to school in time to catch their own buses.  There were sixty of us.  It was going to be packed.  The bus approached, the driver looked at us standing there, and kept right on driving.  He was not interested in giving us a ride.  I made a split second decision and took off after it.  We had to get on that bus.

A block later, the bus stopped, the driver glared at me, and we took deep breaths as we poured up the stairs.  The kids packed themselves in, buzzing with the energy of the day. As we rounded the first corner and the girls at the back screamed, I made eye contact with a man sitting across from me.  He was about sixty, wearing a dirty jacket, sporting a weathered face.  The girls' screams were loud, and I always forget how loud in general the kids can seem for people who don't live and breathe that environment.

He rolled his eyes.  One at a time, slowly, the words came out of his mouth: "There....is...no...god...today."  I couldn't restrain my smirk, and I didn't try that hard.

But I thought of Juan's arms lugging a huge pile of graphic novels sprinkled with a biography and James' carefully selected novel.  I saw Karen's face at the rows of computers: "These are ours... to use?"

I wished that man could see the light in my students that I did.

30.

There is a school dance tonight.  Dance days are notoriously crazy.  Here, they only come about three times a year, so the kids get really excited.

When I was student-teaching eighth graders six years ago (yikes, has it really been that long?), I used to remind myself that when I was in eighth grade all I wanted to do was socialize.  And I was a compliant, good student.  So when the kids crane their necks to (from their perspectives) inconspicuously mouth words about their plans for this evening, I try to take it in stride.

We read on Fridays for most of the period as I take independent reading very seriously.  I read too.  This morning in my writing elective when I remembered it was a dance day, I worried a little about how productive the students would be.

As the day developed, I realized I had no cause for concern.  This post is nothing but a sort of wonder at how a whole mess of eighth graders can burst in from the activity of the hallway, take two minutes to find a quiet place on the carpet (I have at least four boys who love to lie under tables), and willingly enter the world of a book.  This is not a few kids in each class.  This is all but (maybe) five of my 105 students.

I am grateful that I get to watch them like this.  I don't think many adults ever get to experience teenagers this way.