The Writing Prompt

Hidden carefully in desks, and worked on while the teacher's back was turned, the sixth grade class quietly put together a portal to summon Satan.

Near the beginning of the school year, after gaining a lot of insight on how my students were taught during the 20-21 school year, I wrote a writing prompt based on my students. I was aware as I wrote this prompt, that I in no way wanted to give this prompt to my students. It would give them Ideas™. 

My students did not need more Ideas™.

(They named the garbage can Maurice and began daily "feeding" rituals. They began a petition for more recess after nearly revolting when they were told they only had one. The girls organized a tea party potluck for lunch. They tried to go to the bathroom en masse. They conveniently forgot my instructions to work quietly. They bought me a plant after I told them I would never get a class pet, named it Rick Plantley, and overwatered it. They started a wanted mystery which didn't end until the "cattle rustler" was turned in and the winner got $~70,000-- pronounced sñeventy thousand dollars. They begged me to get a boyfriend and bring him to class. In short, they had new Ideas™ every week and acted on them.)

And so, I endeavored to teach them. I tried not to bring up my dates (a complete failure on my part). I tried to encourage the constructive ideas and ignore the destructive.

But one can only do so much.

Last Monday, when doing our daily writing practice, my students wanted a new prompt. They wanted a different prompt. They wanted something made just for them.

And so, despite my best efforts, I gave them the prompt. Collectively their eyes got wide and their imaginations turned on. I let them adjust it ever so slightly ("I'm Christian! I can't summon Satan!"). And then, I set the timer and let them get to work.

H. gave each student in class superpowers and explained how that helped them build portals. MT1 and MT2 somehow communicated telepathically(?) to decide to summon Snoop Dogg in very similar ways. N. had the entire class pulling out bits of metal and paint from their desks. I. had everyone building a fake back wall to hide the portal. E.S. was a lookout in several stories. D. summoned Caillou instead of Satan. And P.S. summoned her cat (who was, as I understand it, a therapy cat and allowed to come to class anyway).

When the time finished, they all wanted to share. When the time finished, they all wanted to keep going. When the time finished, they hadn't. So the next day I let them keep writing. And they continued writing the day after that.

H. took his story home and carefully added details. P.S. included her best friend E.A. who sat next to her and even helped write. Several students warned me not to look behind the coat racks as they created a false wall and giggled when I looked anyway.

I told this story to the rest of the staff Thursday morning during our staff circle time. I explained the prompt and how my students' imaginations grew and how much they loved it.

I will admit to some anxiety as I shared this with the rest of the staff. After all, summoning Satan is usually frowned upon in Utah County. But instead of horror, I heard murmurs of excitement. I heard snatches of sentences like, "Oh how fun for them!" and "Ooh! Portals!" The kindergarten teacher told me she was going to have her students imagine a portal and then ask them what they would summon with it. Two other teachers told me they were going to use the same prompt with their students.

I realized an interesting thing while sharing this prompt with the rest of the staff: all my students needed was a way to properly cultivate an Idea™. And with a nudge into the right bounds, their creativity and imaginations will continue to flourish.

Lost Clicker

Yesterday I lost my clicker, which is something I use every day. It's sleek and black and comes with a built in laser pointer. Basically, it's the coolest piece of teacher tech I own (and I do own it; I forgot to turn in the receipt).

Today, when I couldn't find it, I turned to my students.

"I need help," I told them. "I have lost my black clicker."

They were uninterested and for good reason. What child cares about a toy they don't get to play with?

But I did need help finding it and several eyes at differing heights and with differing thought process were the perfect solution. "First one to find it gets a candy," I said.

The room exploded with motion. They searched places I hadn't even thought of. They told me they lived for candy, that their energy depended on candy.

After about 30 seconds, one boy called out that he had found it. He held it triumphantly, as only the winner of candy can do, and brought it to me.

"Where did you find it?" I asked.

"In the trash."

This, people, is why I need my students. I would never have thought to look there. It would have been thrown away. I would have been left clicker-less and confused when it never, ever showed up again.

Kids have the best creative thoughts.

A Good Start

I wrote a gratitude list for my students. It was on a day when I'd felt irritated at my students. A day when incessant talking lead to raised voices and louder taking. It was a frustrating day, to say the least.

Sometimes when I have a hard day, I go sit up at the temple. In my religion the temple is a house of God where members make sacred covenants, ponder and pray, and work to come closer to God. Due to pandemic restrictions, the nearby temple is only open to specific, scheduled, small groups, but during operating hours, the grounds are open to anyone.

As I sat on the grounds, hidden in a bit of an alcove, with my journal on my lap, I had the thought that I should start a gratitude list. I began with recent occurrences wholey unrelated to school and I kept at that vein for a few minutes, pushing off the thought to list my students.

Finally, with the page half filled, I wrote that I was grateful for my students.

"Really." said a dry voice in my head. "You can do better than that."

So I started again. This time, I listed each student's name and one unique thing about that student for which I am grateful. When I was done, I had 27 students and 27 reasons to be grateful. I had a lighter heart and a new way to show them I cared.

I decided to put these reasons in my classroom where my students could see them on an extra whiteboard I have (we're doing in person learning). But it turns out my paper fell out of my journal and I couldn't find it. So, while they worked on their math test, I tried to recreate the list from memory. It's not perfect, but it's a good start. And tomorrow, I bet I can add even more.

The Difficult Assignment

 A few weeks ago, I gave my students an assignment. It was a difficult assignment (which they knew) and it was a timed assignment. I started with a few minutes, set my timer, and let them go.

In a surprising twist, they all dove right into the problem. They read it out loud. They talked with their partners. They paused to think and write their thoughts. They tried to solve it on paper. They referred back to the instructions and notes.

In the middle of their discussions, just a they were fully engrossed, understanding they could understand, and knowing they weren't there yet, but knowing they could do it, the timer went off.

Generally, when my students struggle with a problem, they are relieved to hear my timer go off. They lift their faces with sighs of relief and give me all their attention to know how to solve it. They take diligent notes and are happy to move on. Sometimes they have already stopped or have spent the entire time complaining about the amount of work or degree of difficulty of the problem.

This time, when the timer went off, there were screams. Outrage. Blatant and deliberate ignoring of the timer. The shouted words, "Could you leave us alone for two minutes?! I've almost got it!"

And really, when your students are that invested, what can you do but let them work until the problem is solved?

We chose "The Wednesday Wars"

We're choosing a book to read

To read aloud in class.

We're choosing a book to read

A book that's bound to last.

We're choosing a book to read

First lines I say of some

We're choosing a book to read

"Oh hey I know of one!"

The student speaks so clearly but quietly at first

"It goes like this, 'I Nephi,

Of goodly parents born'

I like that book, I've read it

And we should read it, too.

Of all the books that we should choose,

It should be read by you."

We're choosing a book to read,

A book to read in class.

We're choosing a book to read

A book that's bound to last

Getting Students to Read

New Year. New Students. New Me. New Methods. Also I wrote this post on a Monday, so that's why it talks about the weekend just ending. Begin.

This is how I got my students to read today. Ahem.

I said, "I'm giving you a month and a half to read two books. One from this list and one off of it. Also do the book report and book project."

Whines and groans. Because two books is hard. Also assignments are the worst.

I said, "I can read two books this weekend. It's not that hard."

Sounds of disbelief.

I said, "You want me to do it?"

Instant universal yes. If we have to suffer, then the teacher has to suffer, too.

I said, "Fine. I'll read one from the list and one from not the list."

I tried to let them pick, but I forgot to schedule time.

I went home.

That is a lie.

After school I immediately jumped in my friend's car and we went down to the Shakespeare festival to see a couple of plays.

On the way down I read the first book: "Rat Prince" by someone. It's a really, really fun retelling of Cinderella from the point of view it one of the rats. It was amazing. And lovely. I loved every minute of it.

The next we wandered the town with the festival and found a bookshop. I thought, I will see if they have any books on the list because I still need to finish one by Monday.

They had "Dracula" by Bram Stoker. As it met the requirement of both being on the list and being a book I hadn't read before, I bought it.

Have you ever read Dracula? There is a reason it's a classic and I'm pretty sure it has everything to do with the writing. Stoker is excellent at drawing the reader in and building tension. The tension builds and builds and builds and I didn't know how it could get any more tense but it kept going. He weaves the story about the vampire through journals, letters, telegrams, newspaper clippings, a phonograph diary, a memoir all from people who have had dealings with this vampire even though they do not even know it.

It was beautiful.

I finished the book 4 minutes before school started this morning.

I had two students try to talk to me but I had less than ten pages left and I needed to know what happened in the ending.

I told my students about the books. I shared the excitement I had while reading them.

They said, "Are you going to let us read them?"

I said, "I'll put them on my bookshelf and you can read them."

They said, "Can we take them home and read them?"

I said, "You'll have to talk to me about that after school, but I will say yes."

They were contented.

Except only two students got to have the books today and they were not about to give them up.

I said, "I liked this so much I think I'll have groups of you pick me a book to read every weekend. I'll assign students to choose me a book from the library and I'll read it."

They said, "What about 'War and Peace?'"

I said, "It has to be in the library and you have to agree."

And then they were all reading. And not just the two books I'd read over the weekend. All day. Any book they could get their hands on.

Beautiful.

One Student Victory

I have a book I've been trying to get my students to read all year. It's a series of books, really, but I figure as long as they read the first, they'll want to read the rest.

I tried to get my students to read it last year, too. Apparently it was too, "boring."

I love this series of books. It's like Harry Potter, but more American-y. The character has a solid family where most of them love him (he's got that one crazy, rude, power-hungry grandma and his dad is missing, but his mom loves him and his uncle and other grandma are nice.) The story is a little slower paced, but I like that.

The other day I sent a student to the back of the room to grab a book. My students generally dawdle when they do this (I, apparently, do not own enough "contemporary" YA novels). But he spent a comparatively short amount of time and grabbed this book to bring back to his desk to read.

I expected that he would pretend to read this book until he was allowed to leave his seat or do something else. I expected he would pretend to read as he has done with every other book. I expected he would pretend to read this book like every other student who had picked it up

It has now been three or four school days since he picked it up. Everytime I have seen him since then, he has been reading this book. I've watched his torn paper bookmark steadily progress through the book. I've even had to ask him to stop reading and pay attention to the lesson for the first time this whole year.

I want to ask him about the book, but I'm afraid if I do he'll get weirded out and stop reading. That's the last thing I want. Instead, I watch how he interacts with this book: like it needs a bookmark that won't hurt the spine, like it stays within close reading distance and is never on the floor, like he doesn't care that reading it is not "cool", like he doesn't know I'm dying to know what he thinks of this book. He just keeps reading it.

Perhaps it is a small victory, but for me, that's victory enough.