Cannonball! (The Things Teachers Live For)

On days when the media rains hate on public school teachers, when legislation about education toils and troubles in the cauldron of those whose last moment in a public classroom was that afternoon they stepped out of high school back in June of 1960-whatever, when the elemental forces of standardized tests, national policy, and “merit” (everything out of my hands)-based pay combine to create the perfect storm of stress, apathy, and suicidal tendencies, I have to remember the small and simple things that make being an educator worth it.

Whether you believe it or not, you can look back and find an educator who has made some kind of difference in your life. Unfortunately, the teachers themselves usually never see the end products. They rarely discover just how much impact they have had on their students—just how far the concentric waves slosh over the tiled edge after they have cannonballed into life’s pool. And usually, most teachers go all-out, no holds back, as they scream like Ham Porter (from The Sandlot) into a career where others sit on the side and gawk at what these teachers have willingly done with their lives.    

Now I don’t want this rant to seem cynical or discouraging or like an anti-anti-educator bashing session. I just want to point out a few small things that make everything worth it, at least to me.

Earlier this week, I had the privilege to be assigned to accompany our 9^th graders up to the high school for orientation and a grand bout of rah rah hoopla pep talk and games-to-get-you-fired-up –or-next-year-and-fall-just-short-of-hazing assembly. It wasn’t a bad time—just very loud. At one point, a former honors student (I’ll call him W_____.) came up and put his arm around my shoulder.

“Mr. A, do you remember that A minus you gave me?”

I lied. (Honestly, teachers don’t remember everything; there’s only so much information and so many names you can cram into our craniums at one time.)

            “Well,” W_____ continued, “I just want you to know that you made the right choice. I didn’t deserve the A. I can see that now. Thank you. I learned a lot.” He looked at me, straight and seriously for a moment. I saw no guile. And with that, he ran off to be loud and obnoxious with his buddies.

            Last Friday, I was getting ready to pack up to go home. When I look up, J_____ (another former student) was standing in the doorway. I hadn’t seen him for at least three years. J_____ came to me as a 7^th grader and struggled somewhat with reading. He grumbled all the way through that year, but he improved. He was a likable enough guy, though, so I took him on as my TA as an 8^th grader and put him in charge of my library for a semester. By the time 9^th grade came around, he squeaked into my honors class. Yes, he still struggled, but he worked hard, often revising multiple times until he made a respectable grade.  That Friday he came to personally invite me to the opening of his mission call for the LDS church. I couldn’t attend due to previous obligations, but he told me (paraphrasing) that he wanted to come back to the junior high to make sure he reconnected with two of the teachers who made a difference in his life and helped him work toward his goals. I thought all my pestering just made his life miserable. (The other influence was his Spanish teacher. I tip my hat to you, Senor Moss.)

            Earlier this year I received this email from another student:

Mr. Anson,

My name is M_____, and once upon a time (okay, only two years ago) I was in your ninth grade honors English class. I am now a junior at SFHS, taking an AP Language course. I wanted to inform you that because of your teaching, I was able to proficiently compose a complete rhetorical essay in under forty minutes. I am grateful for the applicable lessons you taught me, and if you ever have students gripe about the demanding "timed writes", show them this email, and let them know that you are teaching them valuable stuff. Thanks for your hard work as an amazing English teacher. 

Her testimonial worked to inspire my current students and to inspire me. I held my head a little higher that day.

            I recently put out an email to former students who never got deleted from my Google contacts, asking for help with a presentation a colleague and I put together for the Utah Council of Teachers of English. I asked for them to reflect on the benefits of when teachers read aloud to students, either in my class or another. Within five days, I had over 60 responses, most packed with stories of reading activities from my classroom and titles of books we explored together, memories of the class itself; some shared how I helped them to find a book that they liked for the first time. One student reminded me of when a good portion of the class shed tears as I read aloud the climax of Choosing Up Sides by John H. Ritter. Keep in mind that I had them as 7^th, 8^th, or 9^th graders, and a couple had never finished a book on their own in their lives. (There are many ways to fake it, as we all know.)

            At that UCTE conference, I ran into two former students (M_____ and S_____) who had since become English teachers in different districts. S_____ sat next to me during a breakout session, excited to whisper that she was teaching The Diary of Anne Frank, and she was using some of the activities that I had her class engage in (role playing and reflective journal writing).

            The other day, I was scrolling through random blogs, and I happen upon another former student (J_____) who had reposted something from my own blog regarding poetry. As a ninth grader he claimed to abhor poetry with a passion. I also had no idea he knew I had a blog.

            These moments just happen, and like shooting stars, the burn brightly for a second—just long enough to brighten your day and fill you with a streak of hope and light before they fade away. Whether these shooting stars are Z_____ as I pull in to get my oil changed, A_____ at the credit union, K_____ at Wal-Mart, or A_____ and B_____ at church with their families, the seemingly trivial comments about what they got out of 8^th grade English many years ago make a lasting impression on me. They radiate back to me, and I catch a glimpse of what I have been trying to do for fifteen years: be a positive influence in the lives of students. Sometimes it has to do with the content of my class, but just as often it does not; it’s about how they felt and what they learned about life that radiates brighter than anything.

            Even when rough and ragged E_____, whom everyone thought would take up residency at the state prison after he dropped out of high school, saw me across the crazy environment of Jumpin’ Jacks and all its boisterous bounce house glory and made it a point to come and say hello and thank me for being a good teacher, made my day. I’ll admit that his beard and tattoos and three kids through me off as to who he was at first, but it didn’t matter. I’ll mix my metaphors here and simply say that the stars that I thought were fleeting still hung in the sky. The wave of my cannonball reverberated of the chipped pool wall and came washing back.

            I don’t share these bits to boast; I’m no better than the majority of underappreciated, underpaid educators in the world. I just want to share a glimpse of why I continue to do what I do. Regardless of what the legislature mandates, or how many parents rise in opposition, I still want to make a difference. Specifically, I want my students to become better readers, better writers, better thinkers; and as a result, better human beings. I feel the way about all public servants, but that’s another tale for another day. Small thank yous from the PTA or parents in the grocery store last longer than you think.

Most days I wish that after fifteen years in my profession and three university degrees, I didn’t (still) have to work a second job to maintain my family. Summers off? Whatever. I’m busier learning and teaching even more; sometimes they are busier than the days I’m in the classroom. For me, and educators everywhere, it’s these small and simple interactions and thank yous make all the media and parent criticism worth it.  that help us crawl up the ladder after a gut-shaking, tooth-jarring belly flop and hobble back to the edge of the pool only to jump back in for more.

Cannonball!

P.S. Take a moment. Look up one of your old teachers, or someone else who made an impression in your life. Call him. Write her an email, or an actual letter. Make someone’s day, someone who helped shape your life, someone who’s ripple of influence crashed into your life. Do it. I dare you.

Conference Plugs

Despite not being on my A-game for my presentation, the UCTE annual conference turned out well.  I'm going to use parts of it later in various premeditated posts, but as I am simply rambling right now and building up to a shameless plug, I'm going to leave the details for later.  However, if you missed out on the wonderful keynotes by Francisco Stork, Teri Lesesne, Shannon Hale, and Taylor Mali, I'm sorry.  I will say that all of them just upped their book sales, though.  I believe most of the break-out sessions will soon be available on the UCTE site, but I don't know when that will be or who will have access.  Try it, though.  You never know what gems you might find.  I would suggest skipping mine, though.  There are several technical difficulties to be ignored.  I recommend just reading the article.  (See earlier posts.)

If you want some good professional development--Englishly speaking, or course--join me at the CUWP min-conference on October 27th at BYU (9-12 a.m.).  It's cheap and worth your time. See the CUWP site for more details.  I am going to present a session with Chris Thompson about how to help students discover/develop their own voice through found poetry.

Article

Now, I realize that this shouldn't technically count as a new post, but I don't care.  It is a  revision of the previous post--an article that has been accepted for publication in this year's Utah English Journal (October).  So, for those who care, or have the time, or both, or whatever, here is the revised edition.  Maybe I'll get to posting more frequently now.

No, I couldn't hear you laughing.  I was busy heckling myself.  I have a stats class to master (cue violent vomiting sound effect, splatters and all) this semester.  Also on tap, a course rewrite for my independent study class.  It's a good thing I have a competent student teacher.

Okay, I'll shut up now so those who care can get on with things, and those who don't can get on with life.  I've already presented this at a Central Utah Writing Project conference, and I'm also proposing to present at the Utah Council of Teachers of English conference this October.  We'll see what happens.

Oh, yeah.  I'm leaving off the title and the reference list since they are exactly the same as before.

And as always, comments and criticisms are always welcome.

            Yes, I am one of those geeky idealistic English teachers, who occasionally fantasize about being Robin Williams’ character Mr. Keating from the classic film Dead Poets Society.  After twelve years of unsuccessfully convincing my students to call me “O Captain, My Captain,” I still hold to the belief that I can get my students to “savor words and language” (Haft, Henderson, Witt, Thomas, & Weir, 1989).  Regardless of an individual’s ability or inherent wordsmithiness, I encourage all students to play with words on many different levels.  On Fridays, we set aside time to play with words.  Just play.  But why?  Aren’t there roughly sixteen kajillion “testable” language arts objectives to cover in the first semester alone?  Yes, but don’t worry about those; I’ll explain.

            Wordplay is defined by Figgins and Johnson (2007) as students “exploring the possibilities of words on the page in front of them as those words collect, collide, and constrict, then converge and ultimately, connect” (p.29).  Huh?  Just wait.  Garcia et al (2007) define word play in two senses: “[1] as having fun and [2] to refer to the ‘looseness’ or ‘play’ that is needed in rubberized brake pads….If there is too much play in overstretched rubber bands, they are ineffective, while if there is no play, they are useless.  Language is much the same.  Without a sense of play, babies could not learn to talk nor could adults adjust their language to talk about new concepts” (p.51).   When we get a new computer or cell phone, most of us don’t bother reading the instruction guide.  Instead, we play around with the new toy until we understand how to manipulate it.

            Sure, but why play with words in the classroom?  Why not just teach them the core curriculum and be done with it?  Roger Shanley (2007) found that word play activities addressed state core language arts standards, were more informal and comfortable for students to work with, but at the same time promoted student creativity.  Author Phillip Pullman said that “The most valuable attitude we can help children adopt – the one that, among other things, helps them to write and read with the most fluency and effectiveness and enjoyment – I can best characterise by the word playful” (Pullman, 2005).   Play is work in disguise.  Playing with words is working to master the language.  To fulfill most academic assignments, students need not extend themselves to their linguistic boundaries (Pomerantz & Bell, 2007).  This language is often flat and voiceless.  In order to improve writing (and it may appear to be taking a step backward), students must return to the basics of language, which includes, first and foremost a positive attitude toward language (Pullman, 2005).  Figgins and Johnson (2007) show that “students’ relationships with language are more likely to change when they are permitted to play with it, but teachers must construct multiple classroom situations for experimentation, and thus change to take place” (p.29).

            What I can do, as a language arts teacher, is provide a time and a place for students to take risks and play with words in a safe environment, allowing them to grow as writers (Kazemek, 1999; Whitaker, 2008).  By doing so, students build their confidence, their vocabulary, their understanding and mastery of different genres, and they start to develop their own personal voice.

            So where do you start? Like the rest of you, I have students who don’t speak English and students who hate English mixed in with students who love language almost as much as I do.  How do you level the playing field?  I have found that playing is the best way to break down barriers on the playground, in the sandlot, and in the classroom.  Pullman noted that word play “begins with nursery rhymes and nonsense poems, with clapping games and finger play and simple songs and picture books.  It goes on to consist of fooling about with the stuff the world is made of: with sounds, and with shapes and colours…and with language.  Fooling with it, playing with it, pushing it this way and that, turning it sideways, painting it different colours, looking at it from the back, putting one thing on top of another, asking silly questions, mixing it up, making absurd comparisons, discovering unexpected similarities, making pretty patterns, and all the time saying “Supposing…I wonder…What if…” (2005).

                So we play with how words sound, how words look, and how words taste.  I’d like you play along now.  And, no, that’s not a suggestion.  Put down this article and grab a pen and paper (or scribble in the margins).  We’ll start with a couple pre-writing assignments: 

1.      Write down 3 different letters of the alphabet.  (Consonants work better.)

2.      List the objects in your pockets/wallet/bag.

3.      Write down a handful of at least three actions you enjoy doing.  Be specific.  Don’t just say “hiking;” instead write “hiking The Narrows in Zion National Park.”

            Now that the assignment is over, we’ll proceed.  The most basic play involves actual sounds.  To quote scripture for my own purpose, I say “Hear my words…and give ear unto me, ye that have knowledge.  For the ear trieth words, as the mouth tasteth meat.   Let us choose to us judgment: let us know among ourselves what is good” (Job 34:2-4).  Even the least of us enjoys sounds that resonate in our ears and syllables that slip off our tongues.  And I try to get my students to acknowledge that fact through play.  We start with Internet funnies like Neil Cicierega’s Potter Puppet Pals video "The Mysterious Ticking Noise" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tx1XIm6q4r4) and this version of The Vestibules’ “Bulbous Bouffant” (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0uuCNAwXGaQ).  If you haven’t seen these clips, pause again and go watch them.  If you have, you’ll know what I’m talking about.

            After we have heard how awesome the sounds of words can be, we create our own Cool Word Lists.  Here is an example of the start a collaborative list collected by 9^th graders:

abhor	conundrum	gregarious	miniscule	reciprocate
abridge	cudgel	imbibe	nefarious	regurgitate
adjudicate	curmudgeon	implore	odoriferous	robust
adroit	deluge	incarcerate	ostentatious	saunter
alibi	dilapidated	infiltrate	pandemonium	serendipitous
ambivalent	discombobulate	ingenious	parabola	shabby
amble	divulge	kumquat	parsimonious	stamina
bamboozle	facetious	lackadaisical	perfunctory	stupor
behemoth	fidget	loquacious	pilfer	surreptitious
bombastic	finagle	lugubrious	pique	thwart
burgle	flabbergasted	luminous	placate	ubiquitous
catastrophic	flagellum	machination	protuberance	vagabond
chortle	fortuitous	magnanimous	pulchritude	vagrant
cohesive	furrow	malignant	pungent	voluptuous
connive	gargantuan	maniacal	recalcitrant	zesty

These lists are stored in their individual writer’s notebooks, to which they add more words over the course of the school year.

            Another method for collecting cool words comes from Susan Goldsmith Wooldridge’s Poemcrazy (1996).  She suggests having a physical word pool that students can draw from when they need to find a word of inspiration.  And so my classes gave birth to Chuck three years ago.  Our “word chuck” is really just a black plastic bucket with duct tape patches where students, when they collect a word they deem worthy of sharing with the rest of the world, or at least their fellow classmates, write the word on the back of a raffle ticket and “feed” Chuck.  When feeling uninspired, students pull out a handful of tickets to see if anything sparks their ignition.  Collecting words gives the students an opportunity to play with words in an isolated manner, without connecting to anything else, thus helping them to see value in individual words.  When they start manipulating two or three or fourteen words in to create meaning, you can tell they start to “get” words.  Former students who fail to dodge me in the grocery store still ask how Chuck is doing and if he has been fed lately.  Establishing and maintaining word pools also allows them to develop unknown vocabulary in a nonthreatening way.

            Once students have a comfortable grasp of individual words and sounds and cadence, it’s time to put them together.  Again, I like to start on a basic level with tongue twisters.  Several resources are available online as well as in the children’s section of your local bookstore; however, my favorite is Dr. Seuss’ Fox in Sox.  Students roar as they witness how tied up I, the supposed word-guru, get when trying to demonstrate these delectably scrambled sentences.

            From there I move on to plays on words, an essential element to any type of humor.  Bring in comics, Laffy Taffy wrappers, joke books (Kazemek, 1999), especially anything that includes bad puns.  This low form of humor works on many levels (and could be used as a springboard for many other language-artsy lessons like allusion or parody).  Chocolate Moose for Dinner (Gywnn, 1976), Olive, the Other Reindeer (Walsh, 1997), and the Amelia Bedelia series (Parish, 2003) are a perfect place to start regardless of whether you are working with first graders or freshmen.  Students enjoy reading and identifying puns and whatnot, but not as much as they do when they attempt to create them individually (or collaboratively).  These attempts at play could be used as non-fluffy extra credit, too.  The students actually have to think about crafting language instead of filling out a mindless worksheet.  Hmmm…go figure!  My personal favorite example of “lower” simple word play is David Lubar’s Punished! because it includes puns, oxymorons, anagrams, and palindromes.  Making students aware of the absurdities of the English language heightens their awareness of rhetorical devices in “higher” forms of literature, speech, and writing—especially when you require them to include them in their writing assignments.  Unfortunately, it also results in a flood of bad Internet jokes in my inbox, too.

            Although by no means a new way to play, students love returning time and time again to the comforts of alliteration.  Again, a plethora (love that word) of resources exists such as Stan and Jan Berenstain’s The B Book (1971) or Nicholas Heller’s Ogres! Ogres! Ogres! A Feasting Frenzy from A to Z (1999) that illustrate effective uses of alliteration.  Now we’re going to pause again so you can write and play along.

            Take your first letter and come up with a line of alliteration.  Come up with at least ten words that start with your letter (sound).  Try fitting some of them together.  Now, take your second letter and create a line that could be included in the Ogre book or fit into another alliterated tale.  Try one more by creating a whole paragraph! Or even a story!  Yes, they should make sense.  Sometimes we’ll roll a letter die to determine the letter for the class.  Competition between groups or individual students brings out some amazing writing.  Here is an example I wrote while I was playing with my Central Utah Writing Project fellows:

“A Sudden Slayer Snuffing”

                The somewhat psychotic slayer slipped silently onto the sad scene.  Surreptitiously, she spied the sortie of zombies sipping and slurping slimy substances from something, or someone recently smothered and smashed and squished.

                Suddenly, she shouted. “Stop, you spleen suckers!”  Screaming sadistically, she sent a smattering of shotgun shells into their subhuman skulls.

                Stunned for second, the simple, slobbering subjects smiled stupidly.  Sammy the Slayer shortly shrieked in shock then slumped slowly.  Someone, or something, had circled, sneaked up, seized, and strangled her.

                Suppertime!

Other sound devices that could be addressed in similar fashion could include, but are not limited to consonance, assonance, rhyme, rhythm/meter, or repetition.

            Another student favorite is onomatopoeia.  Just saying the name of this technique brings smiles, if not giggles to everyone.  Go ahead and try saying it with a scowl.  Nope. I can’t do it either.  And that’s because sounds can inspire.  Let’s play some more together.  Choose one of the actions you listed in your pre-writing.  Reflect for a few moments.  (Put the article down again, if necessary.)  Now write the words for the sounds of your activity.  In other words, “onomatopoeiafy” your action.  Then play with the structure.  Rearrange images.   Use a thesaurus or a Chuck if you need help finding the right words.  String the ideas together to create a poem.  Here is one example I got lucky with when playing with sounds:

“For Zachary”

Not even

the crack-sing-smack-sting-

barehanded snag of a foul ball

while balancing a foot-long

with yellow mustard, onions

and sweet pickle relish,

nor the

sky-slash-earth-crash-

explosion of light and adrenaline

while lightning’s intensity charges each arm hair

through the double-paned window drizzle

and safety of four walls,

nor the

sit-back-deep-black-

deep thought expanse of infinite stars

while a dying fire toasts backsides

like perfectly golden marshmallows

slipped between grahams

is worth experiencing

without a son to pass it on.

            After the students have had some practice playing in a structured setting (with my guidance), I let them try to fly on their own.  I’ll provide word games for students to play with and struggle over and conquer.  For beginners, or independent learners, word searches and crossword puzzles suffice.  I also like to divide them into groups to play board games such as Boggle, Scrabble, Mad Gab, Taboo, Scattergories, Bananagrams, or others.  If you stop and think about it, most decent board games are based on language and thinking.  Commercially produced grammar games such as Grammar Punk! work as well if you just can’t give up control of your classroom.

            Magnetic Poetry is also extremely popular.  I have several sets on a 4’x4’ whiteboard on one of my walls.  When students have free time, they congregate and try to outdo each others’ creative endeavors.  They take possession of their creations and get upset when I don’t preserve the “masterpieces” from the manipulations of other class periods.  I even have them fooling around with the online version (http://kids.magpogames.com/createpoem.cfm?kit=4).  Go play for a minute if you need to.  I had to (again) as I was writing this article.  In about ten seconds, I actually came up with the phrase “winter window wish.”  There’s no way I would have come up with that unless I was just scrambling words around.  I have no immediate need for that phrase now, but it’ll probably make an appearance somewhere down the road.  It’s in my notebook.  Students also take advantage of these playful platforms to collect phrases and images to use in their writing later.  Writer’s notebooks fill up with ideas that they have conjured while simply playing.  Found poetry in its several forms also provides an arena for students to feel comfortable using others’ words, changing them, and making them their own.  Meaning is broken down, absorbed, re-created, and reproduced through simple play.

            In his book On Writing, Stephen King said, “When it’s on target, a simile delights us in much the same way meeting an old friend in a crowd of strangers does” (2001).  One of my personal recent favorite similes comes from the Travel Channel’s Man Versus Food.  At the end of one show, someone asks the host how hot the chicken wings were.  He responded, “It was like licking the sun.”  Similes, like any other literary device, create imagery that students love holding onto.  I like to point out particularly powerful ones as we read.  From Maniac Magee, “…screaming like an Aztec human sacrifice about to be tossed off a pyramid” (Spinelli, 1999) often becomes a class favorite.

            I could ramble on describing and sharing the different types of play my students engage in, but I think you get the idea, and I need to end.  However, before I do, I need to emphasize the most important aspect of play: modeling.  If you want your students to “think for themselves” and “savor words and language” (Haft et al.,1989), you have to play as well.  Apart from providing the time and the opportunity to play, you, as the teacher, have to provide the example.  Even in a safe environment, playing with words and creating silliness requires taking personal risks.  When students see our own processes while playing with words, when we as adults take risks in front of them, it helps to ease their stress levels and allows them to open up and let loose with the wackiness, weirdness, and occasional wisdom found within the words of the English language.  Playing will force students and teachers alike to step outside the boundaries of everyday discourse and strive for something more creative, more imaginative, more risky.  The irony, though, is that while this advanced word choice and construction occurs, the users feel more at ease because of the context of the discourse.  The structure of play allows and encourages taking risks.  It also has an “important role in the development of learners’ identities, mulitcompentent selves, and communicative repertoires” (Pomerantz & Bell, 2007, p. 575).  Fears break down, inhibitions about composition crumble, and students are empowered through the power of play.