Literacy Builders

For the Love of Learning

Kim Yaris

Reluctant Reader 911

by

Does it always seem like it’s your students that like to read least that have the most excuses for not reading?

  • I don’t have a book.
  • I can’t find my book.
  • I don’t like my book.
  • I have to go to the bathroom.

Anything, but “I can’t wait to read.”

The hard reality of the situation is reluctant readers are the ones who need to read the most because very often they are reluctant because they are struggling. But we ask, “How? How do I get them to read more?”

What we’ve got here is reluctant reader 911 and what this calls for is:

Reluctant Reader Triage

  1. Be sure that somewhere in your room you have a bin of books designated for each of your reluctant readers. Instead of allowing these readers to return to your bookshelves on a daily basis, allow them one day to gather several titles that they think they might be interested in. Guide their choices and encourage them to put in picture books, comic books, non-fiction books and magazines. Be sure these collections contain no less than ten different titles. Forcing students who make a sport out of avoiding reading to take time to thoughtfully consider their interests helps to eliminate the “book” problems often faced by reluctant readers.
  2. Build in breaks. Nothing is more daunting to a child who knows that they are going to have to spend the next thirty minutes doing the very thing that they hate most. If you want to build stamina and commitment to reading, allow your reluctant readers to use a sand timer to help them measure reasonable chunks of reading time. When the timer runs out, allow them to get up and take a quick walk to the water fountain or stand up and stretch and then return to their reading. Even dedicated and sophisticated readers glance up from the page from time to time. Built in breaks makes the marathon seem do-able. And remember, for a reluctant reader, reading is a marathon.
  3. Validate their feelings. As teachers, we are very often cheerleaders for reading. We say things like, “What do you mean you don’t want to read? Reading is great!” And granted, we genuinely believe this, however, for the child who is reluctant, it’s merely a reminder of yet one more failing. Instead of coaxing, simply say, “Yep, I know how hard it is to do something you don’t want to do. When I don’t want to do something, I figure out a plan to make it do-able. Let’s figure out together what might work for you.”

And what might work for these readers might just be one of these suggestions or it may be another carefully mapped out intervention. The important thing to remember is this: The needs of the reluctant reader are critical. More pages, more often equals more improvement. Swift and thoughtful response could mean the difference between reading life and death.

How do I Know if They’re Really Understanding?

by

Yesterday I had a conversation with a teacher that started like this, “I have a second grader reading Harry Potter.”

Now, before I go any further, I have to ask: Is your “good fit” book radar flashing? Whenever I hear “second grade,” “Harry Potter,” and “reading” in the same sentence, the red light begins to blink. So I listened as this teacher shared how this child could name all of the characters and tell about Hogwarts Express and the sorting hat and a whole slew of other highlights from Harry Potter. She was very impressed and asked me, “So, what do you think? Is he understanding?”

This is the million dollar question that we all seem to be asking all of the time. But I didn’t want to answer her right away, so instead I shared this story, which I also want to share with you.

When I saw Kelly Gallagher on Tuesday afternoon he gave us this statistic: Three out of four people who leave jail go back within three years. He challenged us to think about what this says…and what it doesn’t say. And then he challenged us to do the same with children.

I went home and tried this with my fifth grade son. I wrote the statistic on a piece of paper and asked him, “Matthew, what does this mean?” He replied promptly. He said, “It means that three out of four people get out of jail and then go back.”

Do you see what he did there? He parroted back to me what the words say. But does he really know what they mean? Based on what he said, I would say no, so I prompted him further and said, “Yes, you’re right Matthew, that is what those words say, but what do they mean? He looked at me quizzically and took a moment to ponder this question a bit. After some thought he said, “I think it means that jail isn’t a good place. I think it’s kind of like Harry Potter. When Bellatrix Lastrange got out of Azkaban, she wanted revenge. When she went in, she was mean and nasty, but when she got out, she was way worse. I think it means that jail doesn’t help people become better.”

Wow. What a change. Now, I’m convinced that he not only understands that statistic, I’m also convinced that he really understands Harry Potter.

Understanding isn’t about summarizing what words say. It’s about thinking about what they mean. At the end of this exchange, I turned back to the teacher and asked her the same question she asked me, “Is he understanding?”

What do you think?

Come Away from the Dark Side

by

On Friday, I met Andrew, a smallish, third grade boy who wore his distaste for reading like a badge of honor. We all know these kids. They proudly announce how they don’t read books and how reading is stupid and boring. Often, when these readers (or non-readers, as the case may be) make this proclamation, we teachers say things like, “Oh, Andrew, how could you say that? Stories are filled with action and excitement. Stories are wonderful.”

When we say things like that, our intentions are good. We know that if our students hate reading, they won’t want to do it, and if they don’t want to do it, they won’t practice and get better. It’s only natural to want to cajole them away from the dark and twisty side.

But I didn’t say that to Andrew when he told me that he doesn’t like to read. Instead, I said, “I get what you mean. Sometimes, when I read, I can’t picture it and I feel like it doesn’t really make any sense. When this happens, I don’t really like to read either.” When Andrew heard this, he softened a bit. He allowed me to come with him into his book and we flipped through the pages and talked about the pictures and how the pictures make the story come alive.

…Or I should say, I talked about that.

Andrew listened and then after careful thought and consideration, he said, “Yeah, but I don’t get how you do that. How do you see pictures in your mind?”

This took me by surprise. On the one hand, I recognized that Andrew hates reading because it doesn’t make sense, but on the other hand, I made the assumption he visualized as he read.

Our notions of what children can and should be able to do cause us to take for granted what students ARE doing. These assumptions can lead our teaching astray. Andrew’s comment was the quick jolt of reality that I needed to shake me awake and remind me to listen actively and adjust my teaching to his needs. Coaxing him from the dark side won’t happen from simply validating his feelings about reading. Now it’s time to give him the tools he needs to understand.

What’s Worth Fighting For?

by

This past Saturday, Linda Darling-Hammond, educator-extraordinnaire, stood before an audience of approximately 3000 people in Riverside Church in New York City and told a story of some doctors who had gathered at a conference in her home state of California to discuss the issue of inmates who had been sentenced to death row.  The question that sat before this group of anesthesiologists was this: What is the best way to end a human life?
The doctors talked and wrestled a little with the question but it didn’t take them long to realize that they while they could answer this question and offer the state of California more humane options for death row candidates, they would not.  They decided that they were not in the business of killing people and so decided to stand together as professionals and say, “This is something we will not do.”
This-is-something-we-will-not-do.
Dr. Darling-Hammond then asked the large crowd assembled before her, “What is it as educators that we should stand up for?  What is it that we should be refusing to do?”  With the exception of the occasional voice speaking up to say, “standardized test,” she rendered the crowd speechless.  We were all lost in our own sea of thoughts thinking hard about what it is that we do as educators that deserves that kind of unanimity?
Since Saturday I have found myself thinking often about this question and I find myself thinking a lot about instructional decision making and educational programming.  So much of what we do depends on conflicting directives.  Decisions are made on the basis of anything from funding to staffing to research to the whim of a single individual. Directives are given and in spite of whether or not the directive is in the best interest of the students we teach, we comply.  When I think about this and I think about the question that Dr. Darling-Hammond posed, I answer her question like this: I will not do anything that is not in the best interest of a child. 
Instructional programming and decision making can’t be about politics and whim.  They need to be about children and their best interests.  That’s what I’m willing to stand up for.  And you?    

Planning Units of Study: Immerse Yourself First

by

Every time I sit down to plan a unit of study in writing, I begin with envisioning. I start with the same big questions I ask myself at the beginning of every unit of study: Why am I teaching this? What do I want my students to learn? I close my eyes and try to imagine the mini lessons that I will teach during this unit. On more occasions that I care to count, what do I see?

Absolutely nothing.

Has this ever happened to you? Every time it happens to me I feel frustrated and overwhelmed. I begin to question if this unit is even possible, whether it’s “developmentally appropriate” and feel ready to throw in the towel and move onto something more comfortable and familiar.

Then I regroup. I begin to think about what I’ve done in the past to make planning more successful and it occurs to me: I need to look at samples of books from the genre that I am thinking about studying with children. Without a clear picture of these mentor texts in my brain, I find it impossible to establish my objective for the unit. Only flipping through the pages of books helps me to understand my goal and envision possibilities for mini lessons.

Great teacher educators like Donald Graves and Lucy Calkins and their respective colleagues have long impressed the importance of beginning units of study by sharing mentor texts and examples of the genre with students. I can’t imagine asking students to write in a genre without first showing them what it looks and sounds like. How it ever occurred to me to envision teaching a genre without first immersing myself in what it looks and sounds like eludes me. But I promise you this: It is a mistake I will NEVER make again. From here on in, planning a writing unit of study will always begin with a pile of books and some quiet reading time. I know now that it is only then that successful envisioning can begin.

Weighing the Options: Alternatives to Round Robin Reading

by

Psst. I have a confession to make. There was a time when I felt that an occasional “popcorn” around to different readers in the room would do no harm. However, through the years, my thinking has evolved because the evidence against it is beyond persuasive. Research on round robin reading tells us:

  • It slows down reading rates.
  • It lowers the quantity of reading students do. (Research estimates that students actually read between two to six minutes in a typical round robin reading session. Any way you slice it, it’s not much.)
  • It is ineffectual at improving reading comprehension. When reading aloud, pronunciation is emphasized over meaning. In turn, text is often read slowly and disfluently which interferes with meaning making.
  • It is detrimental to fluency because children are often asked to read texts that are too difficult which leads to choppy models of what reading sounds like.
  • It highlights the displeasures of reading leaving children feeling disinclined to pick up books and read on their own.

Yet, in spite of the strong case against round robin reading, over 59% of kindergarten through eighth grade teachers admit to using popcorn reading as a teaching tool in their classrooms. And I suspect that if we had a way of being omnipresent in all classrooms, we’d discover that that there might be a percentage more teachers secretly holding on to this teaching practice. The question we need to ask now is: why?

 

When asked, teachers cite a number of reasons why they believe in and practice round robin reading but the bottom line seems to be this: Most feel it is their best and only option for coming together around a shared text which means that if we are going to change this practice, we need to provide teachers with better alternatives.

 

But what would those be?

 

One option teachers have is to read the text aloud. The benefits of reading aloud to children are well documented. Unlike round robin reading which has many strikes against it, reading aloud has many benefits, including: 

  • It models what expert reading sounds like.
  • It helps kids know and love many different authors.
  • It exposes children to many genres.
  • It actively engages children in thinking and meaning making while enjoying the piece being shared.
  • It conditions the brain to associate reading with pleasure.
  • It creates background knowledge.
  • It builds vocabulary.

Some might argue that reading the text aloud does nothing to build reading volume but when you weigh the amount of time children actually read during round robin (>5 minutes) against the benefits of a read aloud, it seems like a no brainer.

If the issue remains that we want our students to do the reading, then why not have them read it silently? Teachers often worry that student won’t actually read or might not understand what they read. If that’s the case, we’ve got to consider the underlying issues. Are they not reading because they don’t have the stamina they need to get through the text? Are they not reading because the text is too hard? It is only through honest reflection that we are able to answer these questions and in answering them, we inevitably find our way to better alternatives to round robin reading.

When your students need to come together around a shared text, how do you make sure they all get what they need? What alternatives do you propose?

Popcorn Reading

by

Back in 1992, all movie theaters cooked their popcorn in coconut oil. As movie goers, we devoured it by the bag—buckets even—unaware that as we ate, we ingested 37 grams of saturated fat.

Did you catch that? I said thirty-seven grams of fat.

If you ate eggs and bacon for breakfast, a Big Mac and fries for lunch, and topped it off with a steak with a side of baked potato with butter and sour cream, you’d ingest slightly less than 37 grams of fat. So, you see, thirty-seven grams of fat is bad. Really bad. And when people began realizing HOW bad bad was, there was public outrage. Movie theaters had no choice. They had to abandon the coconut oil and switch to something better.

You might be wondering why I am telling you this story and the reason is simple. Literacy has a “popcorn” problem: You might recognize it from your own education…or possibly, even from your own teaching. It looks a lot like this:

“Boys and girls, today we are going to read from our Social Studies textbook about World War II. Please open your book to page 56. Who would like to begin reading aloud? …Great job, Billy. Thomas, were you paying attention? I want you to continue reading. Kathy get ready, you’re next.”

Sound familiar? This practice has many variations but the bottom line is this: whether you popcorn around the room or pick sticks out of a jar, it’s all round robin reading. And like popcorn cooked in coconut oil, there are alarming problems inherent in this practice. It puts children on the spot, asks them to perform without practicing, it can be demeaning and demoralizing, but most of all, it severely limits the amount of practice kids get ACTUALLY reading. Oral reading rates are by nature slower than silent reading rates which means that when a text is read aloud, you are not going to read as much in the same amount of time as you would if you read it silently in your head. During round robin reading, the average turn lasts about one minute and between the time a child reads aloud and attentively reads along with the other children as they take their turns, they read for about six minutes. Six measly minutes.

So, like popcorn cooked in coconut oil, round robin reading is bad. Really bad. We need to feel the same public outrage and demand something better.

The question this leaves us with is this: When we want our students to come together around a text, what are our options? What other choices do teachers have besides taking turns listening to children read sentence by sentence, paragraph by paragraph?

The Answer to a Well Balanced Reading Diet: Guided Reading Blog # 5 in the Guided Reading Series

by

Balanced-DietNew York State has a standard that requires students to read at least 25 books a year. Before I left my third grade classroom to become a staff developer, I made the goal to read 25 books front and center. In addition to number of books, I was also concerned about type of books. I wanted my students to have a varied reading diet so in my classroom, the requirement to read 25 books came with a caveat: five had to be realistic fiction, five had to be poetry, five had to be picture books, five had to be non-fiction, and five could be whatever the student chose. (and then there was the hope that they’d read many books beyond the 25 required…)

Fast forward ten years. Since leaving the classroom, I have continued to advocate for varied reading diets and recently my opinionated (and exasperated) fifth grade son said to me, “I hate it when teachers tell me what I HAVE to read. Why does it matter? Why can’t I always read what I want to read?”

So, he got me thinking. Why does it matter that children have varied reading diets? In my mind, it comes back to this: A varied reading diet introduces children to a wide range of vocabulary, it develops background knowledge, and calls upon a wide range of reading strategies. As teachers, we want students to be armed with well-packed toolboxes and if the only thing they ever read is, say, Magic Tree House, the reading process will become so automatic (inherently good) that they won’t need to practice the skills and strategies they will need for the next series or genre they feel ready for.

Basically, I felt that if I didn’t nudge my students to stretch themselves, they’d never have the tools they’d need to be good readers.

Enter guided reading.

By definition, guided reading is the time when children read instructional level texts with the support and guidance of a teacher. The purpose of these small group lessons is to accomplish exactly what I alluded to before: toolbox packing. It’s the time when I think about my students and their needs as readers. What do they need to know? What can I do to help them know this better?

One of the things they may need is guidance about new reading genres. Maybe they don’t pick up biographies because they don’t have the tools they need to navigate the text. Maybe the intersection of facts with make-believe is too complicated for a reader picking up historical fiction for the first time. Guided reading gives us the opportunity to support readers as they venture into new genres. In hindsight, my students might have groaned as much as my son at my “varied reading diet” requirement because as I have confessed before, I didn’t do guided reading. I didn’t say to them, “these are the things that you will need to be able to read these texts,” and in return they might have been saying things like, “Do I have to? I hate mystery.” Loosely translated, what that might have really been saying is, “Do I have to? I have no idea how to read that genre.”

In this series, I have questioned guided reading as a viable intermediate structure and wondered if it is more suited to primary aged children who have so much to learn about learning to read. However, when I think in terms of varied reading diet and packing reading toolboxes with the skills and strategies needed to handle a wide variety of texts, I realize even when children have a large stash of sight words and can decode new words in milliseconds, they are still learning to read. When I ask the question, “Does guided reading have a place in the intermediate classroom?” The answer is simple and indisputable: YES.