winter spring 2014
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The literary magazine written for and by Fellows of Pennsylvania's Writing and Literature ProjectTRANSCRIPT
210 East Rosedale The Literary and Education Journal of the Pennsylvania Writing and Literature Project
Winter/Spring 2014 -Volume 3, Issue 1
210 East Rosedale Winter/Spring 2014 – Volume 3, Issue 1
Classroom Memoirs
Judoed, Jazzed and Ready to (Re)Decorate the NCTE 2013 ………………………………..……………………..1 by Jaclyn Gruber
My Great White Whale …..………………………….......5 by Bobbie Wade Navigating a Final School Year, Immersed in History
…………………………………………………….……….9 by Kathy Scanlon Falling in Love with Teaching Again……………..……14 by Maddy Kessler
Personal Memoirs Searching for a Space ……………..........................20 by Brian Kelley Secret of Cellar Doors ……………………………...28 by Starr Troup Snow is Beautiful ……………………………………...31 by Bruce Perlman Once ………………………..........................................33 by Eileen Hutchinson
Educational Insights A Sampling from PAWLP’s 2013-2014 Blog
Classroom Environment – The Emotional Side...……37 by Janice Ewing
Physical Environments are Important for a Good Beginning………………………………………………...40 by Lynne Dorfman
Building Community in a Bigger Space – The Library…………………………………………………….42 by Chris Kehan
Magic Cupcake………………………………………….45 by Rita Kenefic
Snow Mail
Evergreen Wonderland
St. Augustine
Cover Photograph: Icy Branches
210 Rosedale Literary Journal The Pennsylvania Writing and Literature Project
A National Writing Project Site since 1980
Director: Dr. Mary Buckelew
Production Editor: Meg Griffin
Assistant Production Editors: Sally Malarney, Lynne Dorfman, & Karen Pawlewicz
PAWLP Staff: Ann Mascherino, Toni Kershaw and Sally Malarney
www.pawlp.org
A Sampling from PAWLP’s 2013-2014 Blog con’t Practical Management of the Writing Workshop: The Super Board……………………………………………47 by Gaetan Pappalardo
Making it Manageable: Feedback at Every Step…...50 by Tricia Ebarvia
Free Students from the Chains of the Bookroom…..53 by Rich Mitchell
Learning – The Key to Positive Energy………….….55 by Rose Cappelli
Serve Your Enthusiasm…………………..…………..57 by Bob Zakrewski
Poetry
Mathematical Angst in Alphabetical………………….59 Ups and Downs by June Shultz Music……………………………………………………60 by Don LaBranche Losing Nouns ……………………………………….…61 by Don LaBranche My Grandmom’s Kitchen……………………………..62 by Carol Opdyke The Bike Ride …………………………………………64 by Carol Opdyke
Lace Cap Hydrangea
Pink and Yellow Tulips
From the Director
Dear PAWLP Fellows & Friends,
Greetings! Once again, readers will be delighted, inspired, and motivated by the works in “210
East Rosedale,” PAWLP’s literary and educational journal. Plump up your pillow or settle into
your lounge chair. Immerse yourself in the writing and photographs of talented PAWLP Fellows
who capture the essence of magical moments in nature, the mystical moments in life, and the raw
realities of everyday life in their prose and poetry.
PAWLP authors share their views in the most provocative fashion on topics such as current
teacher evaluations, the importance of attending professional conferences, and the art of staying
fresh in the classroom.
Memoirs range from the poetic to the raw and edgy. Bruce Perlman portrays a single moment
during a snowfall with grace and brevity. In his piece, Brian Kelley deftly depicts a high school
experience with images that may shock -- but that resound with the truth of his experience. The
power of poetry is clearly illustrated in the poems that grace this issue – from the light-hearted to
the serious, you will want to read the PAWLP poets showcased in this issue.
If you are looking for classroom inspiration, practical ideas, and wisdom to inform your teaching
life, don’t miss the PAWLP blog section. It contains selections from PAWLP’s 2013 – 2014
Blog.
Finally, a huge thank you to PAWLP Fellow Meg Griffin who is responsible for the beautiful
lay-out and many of the photographs in each issue! Without her commitment, there would be no
ejournal! Molte grazie, Meg!
Please consider submitting your writing and photographs for inclusion in PAWLP’s summer/fall
e-journal (deadline: September 15th)
. See ejournal for submission guidelines. We look forward to
reading and viewing your pieces!
Happy summer reading!
Best,
Mary
Judoed, Jazzed, and Ready to (Re)decorate after NCTE 2013
By Jaclyn Gruber
Pocket-sized technology is omnipresent. Keystones are in their beginning stages. “The
advent of the common core” is upon us. All of this movement creates the sense that the ever-
changing eduworld is evolving at a rapid pace. As educators, we don’t have to take a wrecking-
ball to our pedagogy, but we might need to reorganize the tablescapes or maybe even add a new
ottoman. The major theme and content at NCTE 2013’s Annual Convention reflects this need to
reimagine our classrooms. As the title of this year’s Boston conference promised, (Re)inventing
the Future of English featured presenters reworking traditional approaches, creating fresh
strategies, and employing user-friendly technology. Presenters used the momentum of
education’s changes to propel solutions and (re)inventions. It was all very judo. Ultimately,
lectures challenged the audience to rethink and repurpose what we already do.
Presenters with Folger Shakespeare, for instance, demonstrated inquiry-driven
instruction, forcing students to attend to detail at the diction-level. During the seminar,
participants were able to apply these skills while moving around, having fun, and physicalizing
complex meaning. Ever-ready English-folk played the part of students working with The
Tempest: here are three stand-out strategies, rooted in The Tempest but applicable to all other
works:
1. Human Tapestry: after some background on the political tension within surrounding
kingdoms, educators hypothesized about what kind of art might be hanging on the castle
walls; we became the scenes depicted on tapestries, then defended our logic for the large-
group.
2. Representing Relationships: groups represented Prospero and Antonio’s relationship by
enacting one specific quote; together, all the singular-quote depictions created rounded,
text-based interpretations of the main characters’ intricate history. With intentional quote
selection, character complexity is revealed.
1
3. Be the…Boat: in one dense passage, we explored the subtle crime of one brother to
another: under the pretense of safety, Antonio sends Prospero away on an incredibly
dilapidated boat. Participants revealed the subtleties of the excerpt by representing
everything from the ramshackle boat itself (about four people); the mourning Prospero
and his baby, Miranda (two people); or even the rats’ abhorrence from the vessel as the
remaining group skittered quickly away (everyone else played the rats).
With Folger Shakespeare, participants were challenged to shelf embarrassment and dig
into the text in uncustomary ways. Other presentations encouraged educators to attend to
common core standards by revamping classroom staples, like the classroom discussion or student
presentations. Here are a few stand-outs I plan on “moving in” this year:
1. The Backchannel- the backchannel is “everything going on in the room that isn’t coming
from the presenter” (Todaysmeet.com). It’s students’ reactions. Quiet questions. Non-
verbal indicators of understanding. Rather than ignoring unspoken questions or kids’
inward responses, the backchannel allows students to text-in their replies to presentations
or discussions, live. Todaysmeet.com creates a user-friendly discussion board where kids
can react. Presenters explained that this might be used on “BYOD” days (bring your own
device). The backchannel could be used while watching a film-clip, attending a seminar,
reacting to an in class presentation or a lecture. Through this technology, teachers can
alter presentations on the fly and tailor to students’ questions.
2. Conversacolor: using conversacolor, students categorize the kind of response they might
contribute during class discussion. They indicate the writerly moves1 they plan on
making by holding up an index card with the associated color. Through identifying the
kind of response, metacognition allows “students to connect the experience of class
discussion to the skills they need for intellectual discourse” (Scheinberg 2). Rather than
having the teacher direct discussion, students are forced to examine their own rhetorical
moves, transferring those same practices—like transitions, for instance—to the written
word.
1 For a list of writerly moves and research on conversacolor, check the conversacolor internet citation. I also recommend Joseph Harris’s book,
Rewriting: How to Do Things with Texts; he defines similar moves appropriate to graduate/research writing. Finally, similar strategies might also be applied toward myriad literary lenses.
2
3. Sentence Patterning (bringing it back!): A university professor, Lindsay Illich, explained
that we often overlook the utility of practicing sentence patterning. She clearly mastered
this herself, as she spoke articulately about the profession’s reaction to grammar-work:
“Current traditionalists” condemn grammar at the “discursive level” explaining that
“decontextualized grammar methods are pointless”; yet, she continues, as academics, “we
should know better than to use reductive representation of an idea” (Illich). Her primary
argument was that grammar knowledge can help students discern meaning, despite
derogatory buzz in the English community; for certain rhetorical moves have syntactical
patterns they naturally take on. Similar to the theory behind conversacolor, Illich
presented research suggesting making those rhetorical moves explicit gives students tools
to create more complex meaning. She challenges old thinking, explaining that sentence
drills (where students repeatedly write compound-complex sentences, for instance)
increases “language dexterity.”
On top of these useful strategies and more, the best part about attending NCTE and other
academic conventions is that it leaves me feeling inspired. Simply being among all of that
Englishy energy sinks into my pores. As I went up and down the floors of escalators at the
Boston’s Hynes Convention Center, I could tell I was among my people. I think, in order to be a
writer or an English educator, you have to carry some level of quirky—it might be a knapsack
full, might be a dumpster. Either way, the idiosyncrasy filled the place, sprawling-up the tall
lofted ceilings. Being among so many people who feel passionate enough to seek out erudition
and professional development was invigorating, yet it’s also grounding knowing I’m part of such
a unique community. After attending conferences, I always feel jazzed to go back and implement
new strategies with my tenth and twelfth grade kids. New classroom practices are like getting a
new toy. I’m ready to play around and redecorate with my new stuff and (re)imagine my
practices with fresh thinking.
3
Works Cited
Illich, Lindsay. "(Re)Reading Sentence Pedagogies in First-Year Writing." NCTE Convention
2013. Boston, Massachusetts. 22 Nov. 2013. Reading.
Kelly, Carol, et al. "Shakespeare Set Free--Act 5: Using the Common Core State Standards to
Create Meaningful And Authentic Assessments for Your Shakespeare Unit." NCTE
Convention 2013. Boston, Massachusetts. 23 Nov. 2013. Lecture.
Motter, Renee, and Pam McComas. "How to Listen; How to Speak; How to Argue." NCTE
Annual Convention 2013. Boston, Massachusetts. 23 Nov. 2013. Lecture.
Scheinberg, Cynthia. "Cognitive Apprenticeship as Pedagogical Strategy: Introducing
Conversacolor." The National Teaching and Learning Forum 12.6 (2003): 1-6.
http://www.ntlf.com. Web. 1 Dec. 2013.
Todaysmeet. N.p., n.d. Web. 9 Dec. 2013. <https://todaysmeet.com/>.
About the Author
Jaclyn Hope Gruber is a teacher of tenth and twelfth grade English at Great Valley High School. She continually
experiments with designing creative lessons, seeking to help kids communicate complicated ideas and think beyond
the literal meaning of texts. In addition to education research, she is drawn to analysis of societal norms as they
relate to the individual self—like gender, identity, and health/wellness. Regardless of subject-matter, she seeks to
research and innovate publications, melding modes with layout and medium, both technical or text-based. She also
likes board games, Frisbee, love, and fun. [email protected]
Winter Streetscape
4
My Great White Whale
By Bobbie Wade
This is a cautionary tale. It is also a whale’s tale and perhaps, like Moby Dick, it harbors
a bit of a warning about the dangerous waters into which hubris and acquisitiveness can lead us.
My tale begins with second graders studying whales. A gaggle of eight year olds was seated,
cross-legged, before me on the carpet. Their faces were eager; many arms were waving. We
were discussing the possibility of adopting a whale.
Many years ago, before the advent of “No Child Left Behind” and the sequential adoption of
“new” standards, then core standards and most recently, state core standards, I was able to teach
thematically. One unit of study focused on whales. Those frighteningly depleted and fascinating
ocean-going mammals gave my class a reason to learn. We researched the length of different
whales, measured and then drew them life-sized on the blacktop with sidewalk chalk. A one
hundred foot long blue whale did a wiggly swoop over a belligerant-looking killer whale in
between the basketball hoop and the four-square game. We compared the weight of whale
babies and human babies. We wrote whale story problems. If there is a pod of seven humpback
whales and three swim away, how many humpback whales are left? We read a great many books
about whales. Some of them were charming stories; many were nonfiction texts. We wrote
nonfiction reports and fictional stories about whales. Words like “echolocation” and “krill” and
“migrate” swelled growing vocabularies. We listened to the haunting song of the humpback and
sang our own version of “Baby Beluga.” We performed a readers’ theater play about whales.
Math and science were not isolated from reading and writing. One passionate interest moved us
through many school days.
As we approached the end of our whale unit, I told my students that many kinds of whales were
endangered. We discussed the finality of a word like “extinct.” I read aloud accounts of beluga
babies born with defects that resulted from the pollution in their environment. I showed my
students footage of fin whales and humpbacks with scars from their collisions with ships, and
porpoises drowned in the nets of fishermen. It began to be clear to those eight year olds that the
remarkable mammals they’d been studying often suffered in encounters with humanity.
5
Finally, I asked my students if they would like to adopt a whale. I explained to them that we
could purchase a whale adoption kit through the World Wildlife Fund. For a $25.00 donation to
the WWF, we would obtain a photo of our adopted whale and a certificate of adoption. If each
child (and their teacher) donated one dollar we could purchase the whale adoption kit. The vote
was unanimous. We would adopt a whale!
The school where I teach is located in an affluent community. Because I wanted the
commitment to save a whale to reside within each child and not his or her parents, I emphasized
that each student would need to EARN the dollar that he or she donated. An animated question-
and-answer session ensued. The children wanted to know “Could I walk the dog for a dollar?”
“Could I do the dishes for a dollar?” My students seemed quite willing to work to save the
whales. Eventually, the discussion of ideas for earning dollars waned.
Like any good teacher, I gazed across tousled heads and smiling faces in front of me and said
“Are there any other questions?” From the back of the pack a small voice rose in query.
“Where will we keep it?”
For a moment I was completely nonplussed. “Where will we keep it?” Where will we keep a
WHALE? A giggle bubbled up through my ribcage and threatened to resist suppression. Next
came self-criticism. Why hadn’t I realized that eight year olds would assume that, if you adopted
anybody or anything, you’d bring him/her/it home? Clearly I hadn’t explained the World
Wildlife Fund process of adopting whales very well. Of course these children would assume that
adopting was not so very different from buying. Pay your money; bring it home. That would be
consistent with the culture in which they lived and with their experience. It was only then that I
realized that I had an opportunity to help my students understand that our role in this world isn’t
to possess the magnificent creatures around us, but to preserve them. My second graders did
resign themselves to adopting a whale without having it shipped to our school. They seemed
satisfied with a certificate of adoption and a photo. It was a learning experience for all of us.
They learned to temper their acquisitiveness and I learned that believing I knew all there was to
know about second graders was pure hubris.
6
The days of thematic teaching are a warm, hazy memory. This week my principal evaluated me
using the state’s new teacher evaluation system. This pretty, petite administrator looked at me
over a mountain of paperwork at our pre-observation conference. She patiently explained the
process to me, showing me one form after another that required either my input or hers. One
form, titled “Domain 4a: Reflecting on Teaching,” requires us both to choose appropriate boxes
with descriptors of my classroom and my teaching. The page is covered, on both sides, with a
large matrix. My principal will have to decide, for instance, whether “Little instructional time is
lost due to classroom routines and procedures” or “Students contribute to the seamless operation
of classroom routines and procedures . . .” When my principal has made her choice amongst the
many boxes in the matrix, she’ll be able to assign a number, a grade, a descriptor, to me as a
teacher.
Autumn Creek
7
Something in me rebels at being reduced to a number. The classroom synergy is a VERY
complicated thing. It varies from year to year and from day to day. Some factors in the product
are beyond my control. I wonder if studying this matrix and striving for a “seamless operation”
will really make me a better teacher? I KNOW that I inspired children to learn in the past. I saw
the excitement on their faces, felt the “Ah-hah” with them when they’d mastered something.
Does that sound conceited? It does. It sounds conceited to me. And maybe that’s the problem.
The teachers I know are fairly humble folk. They don’t seem inclined to rise up and shout “I
KNOW I’ve been reaching kids! I KNOW I’m a good teacher!” Seems too much like hubris. I
think the real hubris lies in the assumption that you can reduce a dedicated, passionate
professional to a number.
Paul Tough has argued that character - not cognition - is central to success. I believe that. Do
you? If so, who was the better teacher, the one who was concerned about whether her students
had developed a reverence for life in its many forms on this planet, or the teacher who is
preoccupied with the “seamless” distribution of materials? I’m afraid an imprimatur of
“DISTINGUISHED” may be my great white whale. Instinct tells me it’s dangerous to make that
my preoccupation and so I’ll keep my focus on the children and on what I’m teaching and let the
domains fall where they may.
About the Author
Bobbie Wade (Writing Fellow, 2010) is in her 22nd year of teaching second grade in the Radnor Township School
District. She loves encouraging seven-year-olds to read and write, but is also passionate about teaching math. She
has taught math methods courses at Cabrini College and Rosemont College. Bobbie graduated from the College of
William and Mary in Williamsburg, Virginia with honors in English Literature. She earned her M.Ed. at Cabrini
College. Bobbie’s two grown sons are her greatest source of pride and joy. She lives in Paoli, and if you look up
some back issues of Main Line Today, you might find a couple of Bobbie’s essays. [email protected]
8
Navigating a Final School Year, Immersed in History
By Kathy Scanlon
Launching my 35th
year of teaching, I informed my eternally patient husband that I
needed two breaks in the calendar to make it through June, followed by a long summer weekend.
My strategy for surviving the entire year was simple: plan and execute mini war history
adventures for the winter break, spring break, and the Fourth of July. My husband agreed, as
long as I planned the entire trio of itineraries – as usual. Done deal!
Winter spirited us up to Quebec City, replete with French and Indian War history.
Quebec’s Plains of Abraham, where both General Montcalm and General Wolfe suffered mortal
wounds, determined the fates of Canada and America, so we marched across fields of snow to
examine Farmer Abraham’s field. A Southern Comfort Manhattan on-the-rocks at the Chateau
Frontenac, perched above the mighty St. Lawrence River’s cascade of ice rocks offered a brief
respite from the chill. We hiked the heights above the St. Lawrence in the snow, visited the
Museé de la Civilization for a Samurai exhibit, and sampled several French Canadian culinary
delights -- including wild boar. We perused the tiny, impressive French and Indian War
Museum, where I purchased a biography illustrating striking similarities between Wolfe and
Montcalm. I navigated with my Parisian French, a real workout for my subjects and myself!
Spring brought us Civil War history tours of Tennessee and Mississippi, our ultimate
destination: Shiloh National Battlefield and Park and my reading Herman Melville’s requiem
“Shiloh” beside
“The church so lone, the log-built one,
That echoed to many a parting groan
And parting prayer.”
We sampled several rounds of Southern biscuits and gravy, and the world’s sweetest
sweet potatoes … presented to me at one restaurant, along with half a stick of butter! I tasted
Mississippi River stones, packaged gourmet jellybeans. “Kiss my grits” became my mantra –
they warmed me after trekking through acres of damp, clammy battlefield.
We sampled a Grand Ole Opry live radio musical revue and the Parthenon in Nashville,
and visited William Faulkner’s Rowan Oak homestead in Oxford, Mississippi with great
reverence. We even stopped at the Peabody Hotel to observe the infamous wild Peabody Ducks
9
parading from their lobby fountain and pool into their penthouse bound elevator, as we sipped
Lynchburg Lemonade while the duck stars elicited generous applause.
We toured the town of Corinth, once we discovered a significant battle had occurred
there at the railroad crossroads. My husband tasted their iconic “slug burger” at the local drug
store, a concoction one shouldn’t inquire about too specifically. Somewhat like Spam, it fused
soy, pork and beef scraps doused in miscellaneous spices and slathered with Southern barbecue
sauce. We split our first malted together. I purchased a Mississippi mud “bowl” at the local
jeweler’s, where we perused antebellum wall murals and kibitzed with two genial clerks. The
ceramic mud bowls -- actually short, chunky vases -- traditionally hold bouquets for Corinth’s
young ladies, who save the brown ripple-splashed bowl vases for their trousseaus. One clerk
admired our “cute accents.” Honestly!
I must return to Corinth one day, where families descended from Southern rebels light a
candle for each fallen soldier, Union or Confederate, where a Welcome Center clerk appreciated
my thanking her in person for a cordial post-it invitation she’d sent me months before inside the
mailed brochure I’d requested. Both national battlefield centers, in fact, featured superlative
educational displays. I certainly recommend Shiloh and Corinth highly for family and
educational field trips.
Holly Springs, Mississippi
hosts tours of antebellum estates in
warm weather. A brief pass through
this little gem as we left Corinth led us
to the home of prominent civil rights,
women’s equity, and anti-lynching
activist Ida B. Wells Barnett. After my
husband recommended a few
restoration tips to the curator, we
headed to Memphis, where we cruised
James Baldwin’s Beale Street and
toured Elvis Presley’s Graceland.
10
I sailed through a poignant teaching year by June 20, so I’d scheduled my third little trip:
Gettysburg and a repeat stay at a retired physical education teacher’s B&B right outside
Antietam Battlefield in Keedysville, Maryland. It was the closest we could find lodging, at 50
miles away, but we had anticipated sleeping even farther away. We skipped Sharpsburg, as
Southerners call Antietam (named for the creek) since we’d visited the previous year, and instead
headed about 50 miles back up country to Little Round Top in Gettysburg National Park for July
2, the exact date when the 20th
Maine Volunteers saved the Union line.
Chris and I chose not to climb up Little Round Top in the 90-degree plus heat. Instead,
we explored re-enactor encampments at its base, dappling a parched field. Men dressed in period
Federal uniforms recreated the mid-nineteenth century for a few days during the 150th
anniversary commemoration. Recent Federal sequestering revealed blatantly ugly neglect: poison
ivy decorated every fence as we watched a faux skirmish, complete with smoke-only artillery
fire. We avoided the ivy, but nasty chiggers lanced both my ankles. The itch seemed weirdly
worthwhile, as we conversed with folks from East through West, including England!
A few weeks earlier, by June 20, I’d completed my fantastic final full-time contracted school
year, loving my students, appreciating their parents as well as my colleagues, and respecting my
noble profession – teaching every single day from September through June! Huzzah! A fitting
finale for a great career fit. Now, I’ve got some leisure time for planning my next phase of travel
adventures. Our investment will remain minimal: a little over $50 a night for two folks slightly
over fifty-five. Stay tuned!
Kathleen Hall Scanlon
Kathleen Hall Scanlon reads, contemplates, and blissfully sketches via itineraries or reflections,
eventually acting on her historical-literary wanderlust. She expects to embark on “Plan C”
shortly, squeezing out a mini adventure as spring flowers into summer. She furthermore plans to
drag her husband along for a well-deserved escape. More important, she anticipates paying no
more than slightly over fifty bucks a night for two folks a little over fifty. Watch her “Keep in the
sunlight.” Benjamin Franklin
* * * * *
11
* Preview of a follow-up article I have planned for after I take the trip….
My retirement, like an extended sabbatical, has been restorative. Healthy and optimistic, I
am deluged by cultural opportunities. And I’m always poised for travel. The school calendar no
longer restricts my scheduling -- unless my husband joins me, which necessitates planning
prudently.
A general contractor, Chris limits my opportunities for jaunts because of his work
projects. I negotiate brilliantly. A relentless travel planner, I can present a “Plan B” – even a
“Plan C,” if necessary. My winter plan A was an expedition to Vicksburg and Natchez,
Mississippi, traces of U.S. Grant’s trouncing the rebellion, and continuing on to Andersonville,
Georgia’s Civil War prison camp. Ultimately, we would reach the National World War II
Museum in New Orleans. He shot that one down the instant several work projects collided.
Next up: Plan Bay of Fundy, although such a venture requires passable roads for
transport from Southeastern Pennsylvania. Late spring, perhaps.
I’ve scurried on to my latest project: “Plan C.” Limited to five nights by my husband,
I’ve resolved to coordinate a trip to Cincinnati (and Indianapolis, for an afternoon) that will cost
no more than $55 per night. Fueled by our trusty Saturn L300, we will eat healthy, sleep cheap,
and tour amazing historic and cultural spots with the added onus of age 50+ discounted rates. We
anticipate visits to Cincinnati’s Art Museum and Symphony Orchestra, plus numerous historical
sites including the National Underground Railroad Freedom Center. The Cincinnati Zoo,
American’s second oldest after the Philadelphia Zoo, offers both a penguin parade and their
healthy Base Camp Café. Of course, we can pop into the Cincinnati Reds Hall of Fame, home to
Philadelphia’s and Cincinnati’s “Charlie Hustle.”
Indianapolis features the Crown Hill National Cemetery, a beautiful Victorian burial
ground where President Benjamin Harrison and three US vice presidents rest eternally, among
gangster John Dillinger, two-time Pulitzer Prize-winner Booth Tarkington, James Whitcomb
Riley, creator of the poem “Little Orphan Annie,” sixteen Civil War generals, and 1,616
Confederate soldiers who died confined at Camp Morton Union Prison Camp.
12
Crown Hill now harbors thirty or
more white-tailed deer, plus over 100
tree species, tagged for one’s botanical
enlightenment. Downtown Indianapolis
additionally features a monument to the
USS Indianapolis, sunk by a Japanese
sub, leaving most of the crew to face
man-eating sharks. Only 317 sailors --
after 900 escaped the sinking and
explosions -- escaped the sharks. So, you
see, we must spend an entire day in
Indianapolis!
Lodging will additionally provide value-oriented nights at a local Motel 6 or
EconoLodge. No-frills lodgers, Chris and I require a quiet, dark sleeping environment. Smaller
accommodations work best as we voyage nonstop, night and
day. Our requirements: clean space, free breakfast, free Wi-Fi for travel directions and local
highlights. Forever a teacher, I yearn for extensive historical, literary, and cultural insights to
share.
*Your next thrifty teacher trek may just evolve from Plan C….
About the Author
Kathleen Hall Scanlon is a 35-year veteran and 2003 PAWLP and NWP Fellow whose teaching experience spans
the inner-city high school English classroom to the suburban middle school gifted support classroom. She
additionally coordinates the Lower Merion Secondary Summer Youth Program, offering specialty classes in
Gothic/Science Fiction/Fantasy, Poetry, Reading/Writing Math & Science, and African American classes with
PAWLP colleagues. An ailurophile, Kathleen and her husband cohabit with Renard, a three-legged orange tabby
muse, whose adoption story appeared in his veterinarian’s recent online news blog. Her extensive library of real
books renders eternity within her hands – her seventh graders read Blake, too. [email protected]
Irish Crossroads
13
Falling in Love with Teaching Again
By Maddy Kessler
Though I’ve had many inspiring moments during my teaching career, it was a particular
line from the Winter/Spring 2013 issue of the PAWLP e-journal that provided the spark I needed
to write this piece. In a previous lifetime, when my sons were very young, I did some freelance
writing, and my “muse” had been lying dormant for quite some time. I found myself drawn to
the article, “Words of Thanks,” by Linda Milanese Kerschner. One line in particular jumped out
at me: “I still stung from my decision to leave the career I loved because of the negativity
toward the teaching profession and from my own acrimony towards people who couldn’t say a
kind word, who didn’t want to notice the hard work our jobs entailed.”
Talk about making text-to-self connections! I, too, still sting from my decision to
officially resign last August from the school district I had taught in since 1999. However, my
situation and outlook have greatly improved since then. The emotional pain, physical exhaustion,
and occasional bouts of self-doubt have subsided.
Moose
My difficulties stemmed from the nearly impossible hurdles I was expected to overcome
as a classroom teacher working in one of the poorest districts in the state, a district that has
ranked in the bottom 5% in student achievement for many years. Due to budget cuts announced
in the spring of 2010, I’d lost my job as an elementary reading specialist and was able to accept a
seventh-grade English position beginning in the fall because of my dual certification. I spent the
summer reading books and articles on classroom management, trying to psych myself that I’d be
able to hit the ground running in September.
Somehow I managed to make it through two years in an atmosphere in which security
guards patrolled the hallways, and it was not uncommon for teachers to call for assistance in
breaking up classroom brawls. It was an atmosphere in which math and English teachers were
required to provide their students with paper slips stating their recent benchmark assessment
levels as well as the number of points needed to cross the threshold to the next level; students
were expected to be able to access these “tickets” upon the request of an administrator. It was
an atmosphere in which the administration was overwhelmed by disciplinary referrals, yet it
placed greater importance on whether the daily agenda was posted properly, or whether the
required teachers’ data binders contained a table of contents, than in finding ways to provide
much-needed classroom supports. These supports were needed not only for teachers, who could
barely deliver instruction because of chronically disruptive behaviors, but for the students who
were exhibiting those behaviors. It was an atmosphere in which the term “academic rigor” was
frequently thrown around, even though many of the students could barely write a paragraph or
read on grade level.
Despite the hours and hours I put into the job trying to come up with engaging lessons,
reward systems, and ways to raise test scores, I realized that I couldn’t be the heroic English
teacher of The Blackboard Jungle or Freedom Writer. Just like those inspiring characters, I was
determined not to give up, but the “quality of life” issue finally won out, and after a long period
of introspection, I decided to quit. For many months, I battled with feelings of incompetence,
letting the negative energy of my experience at the middle school consume me. Occasionally, I’d
encounter someone who’d worked in a similar environment, or who knew someone who had, and
I’d feel buoyed by empathetic words. It would take many of those conversations, the healing
power of time, and finally, a new job to make me love teaching literacy skills to kids again.
* * *
15
In the months that followed my departure from the district that had employed me for 14
years, I had several interviews for a variety of reading positions. While I blamed my advancing
age and level of experience for receiving no offers, I can’t help but wonder if feelings of
insecurity and even negativity came through in my answers. My karma finally changed when I
was offered my current position as a part-time, long-term substitute reading specialist in a
nearby, affluent school district. I provide extra support to one or two students at a time, either
once or twice a week, based on their IEP reading goals, and I periodically assess their progress.
My caseload includes a high-functioning, autistic eleventh-grade girl; an intellectually
compromised 19-year-old girl with Prader-Willi syndrome; several students diagnosed with a
“specific learning disability”; and three boys identified as dyslexic. I also work with an
intellectually disabled 17-year-old boy who reads at the second-grade level; a co-worker had
informed me that this delightful young man had previously been “warehoused” for several years.
Every one of my students is delightful to work with. Whenever I pick up my autistic
eleventh-grader from her Learning Center for a reading session, she walks awkwardly in front of
me, as if running late for an appointment. Though relatively high functioning on the spectrum,
(in her English class, she has completed The Kite Runner and Siddhartha), she exhibits various
quirky behaviors. Among them is an obsession with dragons--in particular, the protagonist
Eragon’s reptilian confidante in the first book of Christopher Paolini’s series, The Inheritance
Cycle. Recently, in order to help her with inferencing, I started a poetry unit. During a lesson in
which we explored sensory images, she imagined--while flapping her arms like a seal and
gleefully exclaiming “Glub! Glub! Glub!” --how Saphira would fare in the ocean.
My Prader-Willi student is also quirky and obsessive—not about dragons, but about the
chance for precipitation. She eagerly reports to my room at 7:35 a.m. and, invariably, at some
point during our session, she’ll say, “I don’t think it’s going to rain today,” or “It’s supposed to
rain today.” During our initial sessions, we’d continued with the adapted workbook-style
version of Oliver Twist that I’d found in her file. We’ve since tossed that aside and read two of
the books from Lemony Snicket’s series of “unfortunate events.” At one point, as she was
leaving, she briefly returned to the room, having had an apparent epiphany: “I bet it’s Count
Olaf!” she said in a gleeful whisper, speaking of the disguised antagonist. “Because,” she added,
referring to the ending of the last book we’d read, “remember that he got away?” In similar
fashion, she recently departed with a comment about the troubled protagonist in Sylvia
16
Cassedy’s Behind the Attic Wall. “I think Maggie is going to change!” The English teacher in
me was thrilled—aren’t most teachers of literature obsessed with character evolvement?
Another of my students, a 16-year-old who reads at the third-grade level, struggles with
addiction and complex family issues. Before I met her, I was given a heads-up that she’d been in
and out of rehab and that she most likely wouldn’t be receptive to instruction. When her
caseworker first escorted her into my room, I was admittedly a bit intimidated by her cursing and
complaining. Knowing that she is passionate about animals, I found a heartwarming essay on
thisibelieve.org (a highly recommended website!) about the emotional astuteness of dogs. With
my support, she was able to read and comprehend the material with ease. In addition to working
with her on various other short reading passages, I’ve been reading to her the autobiographical
book Smashed: Story of a Drunken Girlhood, by Koren Zailckas. The deal has been that if she
does her assignment, I’ll read the book to her for the remainder of our session. Fully aware that
the book is well above her readability level, I was nonetheless thrilled when she asked to take it
with her, promising to keep it in her backpack rather than leaving it at home.
For most of my students, I occasionally pick and choose certain activities in the leveled
workbooks lining the shelves in my office. However, I can’t imagine using them as the core
program for anyone. I’ve always believed that if a reading passage is boring to me, it’s most
likely going to be boring to my students. I know that I can still teach the necessary skills and
strategies with richer, more appealing literature. It’s for that reason that I’ve been reading one of
my favorite books, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime, with two of my dyslexic
eleventh-grade boys. Sometimes I have them follow along with the audio book and sometimes
we take turns reading orally. I make up my own activities in order to conduct periodic
comprehension and decoding checks.
With students capable of tackling more sophisticated material, I’ve practiced close
reading using excerpts from Malcolm Gladwell’s The Tipping Point and have even used—with
scaffolding-- articles in The New Yorker. At one point after reading the Gladwell text, I had two
students take turns asking each other a “5W” or a “How” question and was pleased to discover
that they did indeed comprehend the text.
* * *
Truth be told, I’m certain that most of my previous middle school students would be as
delightful to work with as my current students, given the luxury of one-on-one support. I know
17
this because some of the very same kids who nearly brought me to tears when I was trying to
teach in the classroom gave me “goosebumps” moments during conversations with them while
they were serving detention. Most of them had grown up in single-parent households, their
fathers incarcerated or otherwise out of the picture. Most likely their mothers were too tired
from trying to make ends meet to read them bedtime stories. One student who had the dubious
honor of being a “frequent flyer” on the suspension list was on the autistic spectrum and in the
foster system; he failed my English class miserably. It wasn’t until May that his case worker
emailed me a behavioral questionnaire to complete on his behalf. While he was often the bane of
my existence during my Period 1-2 block, he was a total sweetheart after school.
My current job has been extremely therapeutic. My passion for finding materials and
employing strategies to fit the instructional needs of each student has been re-ignited, as has my
love for teaching reading and writing. I’ve also regained my confidence in the professional
decisions that I make.
Until recently, I believed that there was some kind of dichotomy between “remedial” and
“special ed” kids. In my previous district, once kids were “identified” and given IEP’s, they were
removed from my roster and assigned to special education teachers. Sure, such identified
students meet certain well-established criteria that average struggling readers do not. While I
know, on an intellectual level, that delivering appropriately tailored literacy instruction is best for
all students, it hadn’t been until I started working with my current “caseload” that I realized that
you can experience as much joy working with a learning disabled child as you can helping
students during a vibrant reading or writing workshop. Engaging, research-based strategies can
be adapted to any learning environment. Unfortunately, my previous job gave me real-world
exposure to what we already know—that the environment in many schools in low socioeconomic
districts is not conducive to learning. Sadly, many disadvantaged students who might otherwise
experience success are not able to do so, not because of any lack of intelligence, but because of a
lack of resources.
While administrative decisions preclude me from remaining in this position—they are
requiring dual certification in special education and reading—I will continue to enjoy the ride
until June. I don’t know what lies ahead for me, but I feel refreshed and look forward to
whatever my next journey as a teacher of literacy will bring.
18
About the Author
As of this writing, Maddy Kessler is wrapping up a long-term substitute position as a reading specialist at Strath
Haven High School. She will be remaining with the Wallingford Swarthmore School District as a secondary teacher
in their Extended School Year summer program. Previously, she worked for 14 years in the William Penn School
District, primarily as an elementary reading specialist and then as a seventh-grade English teacher. She hopes to
continue working as a reading specialist and is also launching a private tutoring business. She has two grown sons
who live in Philadelphia and resides in Wynnewood with her husband and two dogs. [email protected]
Lilacs in Bloom
19
Searching for a Space
By Brian Kelley
Tires screeched across the high school parking lot and tufts of pale smoke drifted like angel’s
cloaks behind my aunt’s red Dodge. Accelerating towards a row of empty parking spaces, I
punched the brakes hard with both feet to try and spin and twirl into an empty spot. I almost
pulled it off as the creaking and groaning frame rocked to a rest diagonally across the painted
lines. No harm though. No other cars had parked at this end of the lot yet. With shaking hands, I
adjusted the wheels and then fussed the rectangular, red Dodge between two lines. Locking it, I
strutted by myself towards the school’s entrance with a notebook tucked high and tight against
my chest and wondered if anyone watched me.
Every morning, teenaged boys dressed in cheap slacks, blazers, and thin ties spread themselves
across the cement steps. This morning, they were damp with Spring. With large, cheek-stuffing
bites, they devoured brown bag sandwiches on soft, long rolls. Few talked in the morning before
school started.
With heads lowered towards the ground like the penitent, most read newspapers pinned open
against the wind by their shoes. We never read the entire paper. If asked, most boys would admit
they read the sports section then flipped through the ads for adult movies and peep shows, and
repeated the process throughout the day.
Creatures of habit, today was no different. They read and reread the same three articles all day:
Marty Bystrom pitched another lousy game for the Phillies, the Sixers admitted dreaming of
drafting Michael Jordan, and the Soviets withdrew from the summer Olympics. Later, most of
the boys would buy a second lunch from the cafeteria and spread their newspapers open on the
lunch table and stare at the Phillies box score again, combing the numbers and then memorizing
them.
20
During 3rd period, my economics teacher stopped mid-class, as he did each day, to borrow one
of the many newspapers folded under our desks. Distracted, as he rifled back and forth through
the stock quotes, he asked, “Hey, anyone know who drove that little, red battleship into school
this morning?”
We were silent; I was not yet aware that he meant me.
“Anyone see that little, red car race into the yard this morning?”
Some hands raised as he bent the corner of the paper to see the room; all faces pointed toward
me.
“Was that you in that little, red car?”
My voice cracked, “Yes.”
“You little demon. That was some move. Glad I was already inside.”
The class laughed and he returned to the paper, ignoring us until the bell rang.
I’d never driven myself to school before today. Usually, I walked through four blocks of row
homes to Snyder Avenue and then took a Septa bus another seventeen blocks to 26th and Snyder.
If I didn’t have change to buy my own paper, I read the headlines of the backs of newspapers
held by others on the bus. On lucky days, someone would leave a newspaper behind, folded on
their seat. From there, I walked another three blocks of neighborhoods to school. If I caught
Septa just right, I could make it in an hour, but public transportation didn’t always run on time,
and sometimes crowded buses would cruise past us inexplicably.
Classes switched and the halls filled with bodies and noise that sloshed in all directions like
floodwaters rushing through narrow spaces. Hustling to our next classroom, we tucked pencils
and pens behind our ears because no one would be caught dead with a pocket protector. And for
boys who seemed to carelessly scrunch up the sleeves of blazers and damage shirt collars by
21
flipping them up, we kept our shirts clean. For the fear of stray ink, no pen tip would come close
to touching our shirts. Irrespective of weekday or weekend, some guys religiously pressed their
clothing before leaving the house: denim jeans, Polo shirts, cotton t-shirts, wrinkle-free dress
pants, and silk ties. Whether needed or not, for some, a hot iron was part of the daily routine
along with a comb, cologne, and a single gold chain.
Inevitably, someone would punch a stack of books from beneath someone’s arm. It didn’t matter
if he knew him or not; if the books looked ripe for a punch, they would soon tumble free. The
textbooks drew the most attention. Covered in brown shopping bag paper, they would explode
from our arms if we didn’t cling to them. Before anyone picked them up, the mob used its feet to
skid them back and forth across the hallway like bloated hockey pucks. Lockers flew open and
slammed shut as guys stole swigs of Coca Cola and belched with the intention of prying a few
laughs from nearby friends.
My friendships had been fraying, especially my oldest ones. Joey, my friend since elementary
school, gravitated towards DJing and detailing cars and Michael, a friend just as long,
disappeared with gyms and guitars even though we saw him everyday. Other friends guzzled
quarts of beer on a nightly basis or asked for passes from class to sell pot in the bathrooms. Some
worked part-time jobs and didn’t come to school every day. Others carried guns and drove
Cadillacs and none of the rest of us could explain it.
My talent in sports waned the older I grew. Anything I had an aptitude for (drawing, painting)
was isolating and expensive.
A guy I barely knew, sitting on a windowsill in our Chemistry classroom, hopped down and
waved me over, “Yo, Kel, your car is blocked in.” The sleeves of his blazer were pushed up past
his elbows and the blazer lapel was snapped to stand straight up.
Since Mr. Petrarca had not started class, everyone crowded the window. Frosted white, the
windows could not open all the way. Heads maneuvered around each other to see down into the
lot. A small white Toyota hatchback idled directly in front of my aunt’s car. Leaning against the
22
Toyota, Father Leonard, the principal of the school, casually smoked a cigarette and kept my
aunt’s car blocked in..
Father Leonard, considered the cool, new addition to our all-boys, Catholic high school, recently
jostled the crowded halls like a salmon rushing upstream between classes and brandished a large
pair of gleaming scissors overhead. As he SNIP-SNIP-SNIPPED the air he screamed, “JEWS
MADE HERE! JEWS MADE HERE!”
Short and perpetually smiling, Mr. Petrarca joined us at the window, placed his kind hands on
my shoulder and said, “You’d better go see him.” Class should have started five minutes earlier,
but I remember his patient smile as he opened more of the windows so that more of the boys
could hear everything about to happen.
It was a long walk through empty, silent hallways. Custodians pushed wide, fringy dust mops
side by side at the far end of the hall. Every surface burnished like a church on Sunday morning.
Occasionally, the murmurs of male teachers bled through the solid wood classroom doors but for
the most part, the halls remained silent. When I passed Mr. Capuano’s room, I forgot that he was
one of the few who kept his classroom door propped open at all times. Scribbling algebra in
colored pens on plastic sheets, he leaned across an overhead projector from a tall, metal perch.
Stealing a glimpse of me, he yelled, “Kelley, you little hammer, why aren’t you in class?”
The eruption of laughing boys followed.
I stepped back so I could see Cap’s face. He was an egg-shaped man with massive forearms.
Thin, greasy strands of black hair clung to his bald head, and he broke balls just for the laughs in
class. It didn’t matter who it was; he fished for opportunities to do it.
“Father Leonard wants to see me, I think.”
He shooed me away as if I interrupted him and he didn’t really want me to answer. I remember
23
his face changing as a funny comment took root. I couldn’t hear it, but I knew Cap, and I knew
he cracked a joke at my expense. And that was ok.
I remember the aluminum exterior doors popping open and slamming against the brick wall with
an unintentional bang--as if I exited the building in a roaring attack of Father. My mistake caused
the opposite reaction. It made me sheepish and uncertain. Furthermore, Father’s back was to me
and the noise didn’t make him budge.
Instead of flinching, he took a pleasurable drag of his cigarette. The long, slow exhale swirled
over his head and dissipated.
For Spring, it was a windy, raw day.
I approached and stood in front of him with a bowed head and hands shoved deep inside my
pockets, “Father,” I lied, “this is my car.” I prayed that he wouldn’t call my family.
He finished another drag and flicked the cigarette before looking at me. A burst of wind caught
it and made it change direction dramatically; it curved and crashed against the asphalt, tumbling
end over end and disappearing into the bright afternoon sunshine.
Father Leonard could have been face to face with the devil. I remember his lips, purple and thin,
held a firm frown. Intense and hard, he looked chopped and shorn from dozens of black and
white photographs of his image. Full of edges and severe lines, his face was cut and shaped with
those long, Jew-making scissors. He was that pale and still and rigid. He stood up straight and
punched a finger into my chest, knocking me backward.
“Don’t ever drive in my school yard again. You walk. Don’t ever ride in anyone’s car in my
school yard again. You walk. Don’t ever approach me again unless I call you; you should be in
class. You wait for me. Don’t ever interrupt my vices. You owe me a goddamn cigarette.”
He really said “goddamn” and stretched even taller as he hitched at his pants like one of John
24
Ford’s gunslingers. Made up of sharp-angled, geometric shapes, his face shifted as if invisible
hands slid scalene eyes over right angled cheekbones.
I blinked in disbelief, “What?”
“You heard me. You owe me a cigarette. Nothing filtered either.”
I stuttered, “I don’t smoke.”
“Oh shit that’s just perfect.” This annoyed him more than my driving.
After reaching in through the driver side window, he shut off his car and pocketed the keys.
Slapping at his pockets for a cigarette and not finding one, he rooted through his glove
compartment before holding up his palms as if excusing himself. He turned toward the building
and called over his shoulder, “I need a cigarette and I’m out. Wait there. Don’t you dare move.”
25
Sunlit Dahlia
Mumbling, “I’m not done with you,” he vanished inside the school.
And I waited.
And shifted my weight from foot to foot.
Hundreds of heads watched me wait through so many different sized window slats. Everywhere I
looked, heads nodded to one another and weighed what would happen next. Depending on the
light, sometimes all I could see were dark silhouettes and only felt their eyes through the narrow
openings in the frosted glass.
I marked the day by the dull, outdoor bells of class changes rattling against the cold brick. I
thought about going in to see Father, but he told me not to move and I feared the possibilities.
More than once I jingled my aunt’s car keys in my pocket and looked with longing at the driver’s
seat--picturing myself warm and safe.
Sometimes I walked to the library and read. But I had stopped reading because I lost my library
card. When I waited for another, I left without it because it would be mailed. I remember the
empty brightness when I was told I had to wait for a new card before I could take a book. And I
remember the silence. Without a book in my hand, or permission to read, I walked home
reminded that I was alone.
The new library card never made it into my hands.
Shivering through the end of the school day, I watched students filing out of the building empty-
handed. From within the crowd, two secretaries approached me. Without saying anything, and
barely glancing at me, both climbed into Father’s white Honda and lit cigarettes. One handed me
detention slips for cutting class 4th period through the rest of the day and the other handed me
one detention slip for using a parking space without possessing a permit. The wind kicked up,
26
and I held to three weeks detention tightly as the grey-haired secretaries laid on the horn and
cruised through the dissipating crowd without braking.
I waited until the school yard emptied before I started the car, but I do not remember the ride. I
remember the circles. And I remember my imagination at work. I remember thinking. Around
and around, again and again, I circled our neighborhood--searching for a space that felt close
enough to home.
About the Author
I grew up in South Philadelphia among extended family. We had four houses on one city street and a few
others nearby. My aunts, uncles, and cousins were children of Italian immigrant parents or great-grandparents.
Coming to this country with very little, they taught their children the most noble of virtues: be generous. As a child, I
witnessed my family share food, money, and time with anyone who needed something. It was just the way it was. So,
it comes as no surprise to me, that among these beautiful, lasting influences on my life is one
generous example set by a grandfather who I never met. [email protected]
Still Water
27
from The Secrets of Cellar Doors
By Starr Troup
The morning world outside Gran’s house was covered with frost. The nights had been
cold the past several weeks and the yard was sprinkled with the final remnants of the fallen
leaves. My little brother and I raked last weekend, and moved the piles to the burn barrel at the
back end of the yard. The trees had been nearly bare; we were glad to be finished with that chore
for the season. In the week since, the oaks and maples had given up the rest of the leaves and
were now gray silhouettes against the sky. The frost had stayed awhile this morning, thanks to
the gray overcast clouds. When my feet landed in the yard it was with a crunch as the brittle
leaves cracked under my sneakers.
Beside the porch against
the house was a pair of metal
doors, the entrance to the cellar.
Bilco doors, Gran called them, sat
against the house at a steep angle
to the ground. Gran’s were
painted a dark forest green that
matched the porch trim, and in the
summer blended with the growth
in the yard. In the winter those
doors were my ski slopes. I
packed the white powder of snow against the doors to make it hard and slick. I stood at the top,
my boots my skis, and slid the whole way to the bottom. It was only five feet from top to the
bottom of the slope, but for those few moments I felt the wind on my face and the thrill of flying.
In the summer the doors were my beach. The metal absorbed heat from the sun. I put my towel
on one door and my book and my tumbler of iced tea on the other, then leaned back and closed
my eyes, hearing imaginary waves slapping the sand and smelling imaginary salt in the air.
But summer was past, and white winter was still weeks away. It was the autumn between.
Blizzard
28
I lifted the door by the handle then jumped aside to let it fall open. The bang as it hit the
doorstop echoed against the neighbor’s brick house, then echoed back against Gran’s. I waited
for a moment until the sound softened, booms quieting into a sigh.
The cellar was dim. It had never been wired for electricity. I started down the steps
holding onto a narrow stone shelf carved into the wall of the stairwell. The oak stair planks were
no longer flat; decades of feet traveling down, then back up, had worn a dip in the center of each.
I wondered how many thousands of steps had touched here. In the coolness of the air at the
bottom I could feel the presence of the woman whose husband had built the steps and the shelves
in front of me. I sensed she had been proud of his craftsmanship all those years ago, and of the
things she had learned in order to preserve food for their family.
I sat down on the bottom step and closed my eyes. I saw him, the man who had built the
shelves. His faint presence was hurriedly hammering, first placing the oak planks across the
supports he had built, then nailing them in place. He was going away soon, I could tell by the
look on his face – determination to do this thing for his wife, sadness at having to leave. But he
wasn’t in despair; his manner was resolute. Then I knew. He was going to fight in the war. He
had joined the Pennsylvania infantry, signed up at President Lincoln’s request, to fight for what
he believed in.
He looked up. With my eyes still closed I saw her coming down the stairs, excited to see
her husband’s progress. She smiled and told him of all the things that would be waiting on the
shelves when he returned. He set his hammer on the floor and pulled her toward him.
The past faded and the woman’s ghost murmured away as I reached for the flashlight
Gran kept on the shelf. I inhaled and a heaviness tickled my nose. Just faintly, there under the
musty smell of the closed-in space and the dirt of the floor and walls, was a reminder of hot
summer days in Gran’s kitchen. The scent, fresh and alive, was of the sweat and spices that were
a part of our days of canning – smells of tradition.
I looked at the shelves – what a colorful tapestry we had woven that summer. On the
bottom shelf the jars were filled with dark green beans Gran and I had snapped, cooked, and
canned. I pointed the flashlight to the shelf above and caught a glint of purple, a moonless night
sky in a jar. Elderberry jelly.
Gran was probably beginning to wonder what had happened to me. I brushed aside the
cobwebs and picked up one of the jars.
29
My flashlight blanked just as I heard Gran call my name.
“Coming.” Loud enough so she could hear me.
Gran was waiting on the porch. She smiled as I handed over the jelly, and flashlight. She
glanced at the light and then at me, head tilted, a wrinkle between her eyebrows.
“Dead batteries,” I explained.
“I thought you got lost,” Gran said.
“Well, I sort of did. I have some questions to ask you.”
Gran laughed. “You always do.”
Spending long days with my Grandmother, cooking elderberries for jelly, and forages to
the stocked cellar shelves were common occurrences that became important in my life. When
galaxy-sized questions go unanswered, traditions and rituals can be a way to celebrate the
enchantment of the universe. I’ve learned this looking back. When I was young I knew only the
joy of time with my grandmother. I had no idea that the things Gran and I did together would
become a strong thread, binding seemingly unrelated pieces of my life into a patchwork quilt that
I would someday admire.
About the Author
Starr Troup is the managing editor for CavanKerry Press, an independent publisher of poetry and memoir. She a
PAWLP Writing Fellow, a graduate of West Chester University, and a graduate of Wilkes University where she
received her MA and MFA in Creative Nonfiction Writing. She lives to write, and continues to work on her
nonfiction manuscript, Long Reach River, from Oxford, Pennsylvania. She lives with her husband, Chris, and her
two cats, Macintosh and Pippin. [email protected]
Covered Bridge
30
Snow Is Beautiful
By Bruce Perlman
The party had ended but
the snow was still gently falling in
Beacon, New York; a small quiet
neighborhood along the Hudson
River. The light snowfall seemed
to make it even more-so. A couple
walked out of the cozy, warm
party all bundled up from head to
toe ready for the frigid, snowy
walk home. White lights adorned
neighborhood homes where in
their brightness one could just make out the sparkle of the light pristine flakes that were falling.
No doubt snow was underfoot, about 6 or more inches where the street was totally white-
covered. The only sound one could make out was the sound of boots crunching the fluffy, light
new fallen snow. If you stopped to listen very carefully, maybe, just maybe you could hear the
snow as it swirled and fell adding more whiteness and beauty to the surrounding landscape.
This couple could feel the bite of the cold air on their cheeks, brushed by snowflakes as
they made their way from the sky above to the earth, adding to the gentle softness of the road
below. Quiet... stillness and the clean refreshing white of the night. One glove covered hand
reaches for the hand of another. A heart melts but it does not disturb the snow. Crunch, crunch,
crunch, the boots make their way in the center of the snow-covered, silent street, hand in hand.
The warmth from within leads the pair to a detour to view the Christmas lights from a
neighboring house... Blue and white the lights bring life to the continuously falling snow. A car’s
headlights break the silence, but once out of sight the stillness returns.
Soon, up ahead the warm glow of icicle lights welcomes the twosome home. The night
closes as snow continues its mission to cover the earth in silence, the landscape transformed; the
beauty of the snow.
Winter Treescape
31
About the Author
Bruce Perlman has been teaching elementary school for 27 years and has taught all of the elementary grades except
for kindergarten. Writing is his second passion, next to teaching. In his spare time, Bruce enjoys outdoor activities,
time with his family and vegetarian cooking. He is also involved in local community theater and is involved in a
movie project this summer. The inspiration for most of his writing comes from real life experiences. This memoir is
no exception. [email protected]
Snow Ornaments
32
Once
By Eileen Hutchinson
In the Fall, I saw the musical, ONCE, at the Academy of Music with some of my colleagues.
With no assumptions, I was deeply enthralled with the story plot that intertwined the everyday
lives of an aspiring Irish musician and Polish piano player in the pursuit of their lifelong dreams.
The integrity of the characters and heartfelt songs really struck a chord in me. Despite their
challenges and setbacks, they always played a harmonizing melody to keep their dreams alive. It
truly stirred some emotions in my soul for this revelation.
We live only ONCE,
So keep that ONCE alive
Follow your dreams you yearn to strive
Celebrate each day joyously
Hug your loved ones tenderly
Cherish the memories with delight
Grace your pardons with forgiveness in sight
Be grateful to God for the blessings in your life
Learn and grow from each triumph and strife
Make your ONCE –the life you wish to lead
Time full of joy and wonder with every good deed
Laugh, love, and live
With a heart that truly gives
Feel the power of words
Rockin’ deep in your soul-
Just Believe
Let your ONCE unfold.
So, Carpe Diem-Open your eyes
To life’s mysteries, wonder, and surprise
Never say never-Dare to Dream
The possibilities endless- wherever they stream.
33
Even with this “AHA” moment, I still get stuck in overwhelming drums of daily
obligations. Now, in my mid-forties, I am panicking that my stars of possibilities are fading
away. Full-time work coupled with the roles of wife, mommy, educator and aspiring artist can be
a demanding balancing act to uphold. And to be quite honest with you, EXHAUSTING! My
personal endeavors and aspirations seem to get buried as I try to fulfill all of my roles with high
expectations.
In January, I began reading a book, I DECLARE by Joel Osteen. In this book, this pastor
distinctly tells his readers that our words have creative power. His message reiterates that our
words and beliefs control our destiny. He takes his readers on a thirty one day journey to speak
faith over your future and rediscover the person you’re truly meant to be! So I decided to write
my own DECLARE mantra for the pursuit of my life dreams.
Pink Dahlia
34
I DECLARE
I DECLARE to wake up each morning with a positive, win attitude
I DECLARE to take some time each day to exercise, meditate, and pray for a sense of
peace and balance
I DECLARE to be a more loving, dedicated wife who listens and works more patiently with my
life partner
I DECLARE to be a caring and responsive mom who spends quality time with her son,
I DECLARE to be an educator, coach, and colleague who listens and respects the ideas
of others while using research and best-practice instruction for all students to reach their personal
BEST,
I DECLARE to keep my passion for music and writing alive by playing the piano,
singing songs, or writing daily in my journal,
I DECLARE to set small goals for my life projects, believing fully in their intent and
meaning
I DECLARE to read this mantra daily for guidance and motivation
Our life fortune is carved by the words we craft from our everyday experiences. We are
special souls placed on this earth for a purpose. As we get older, we realize how time is so
precious. Every waking moment reminds us to live fully in the now. It is not the dress rehearsal,
so write your own script, sing your song, or design your backdrop.
We are all masterpieces, blessed with many gifts if we choose to act on our words and
just take risks. Our words can keep our melody playing so we can always BELIEVE. Just
ONCE-let your powerful words own your dreams.
About the Author
Eileen Hutchinson is a 99’ Writing and 05’ Reading Fellow. She currently works in the West Chester Area School
District as an instructional coach. She is a busy Mommy to her 5 year-old son, Bobby who loves karate and music.
For the past six years, she shares her love for writing by coordinating the PAWLP’s E-POETRY contest and the
summer youth writing programs in the Lower Merion School District. She loves snuggling up to a good storybook
with Bobby or writing in his green crayon journal. [email protected]
35
Winter Berries
Educational Insights: A Sampling from PAWLP’s 2013-2014 Blog
Classroom Environment – The Emotional Side
By Janice Ewing
Along with the thinking and care that we give to setting up the physical environment of our
classrooms, most teachers are concerned with establishing a safe and productive climate for
learning as well. As a new school year begins, it seems like a natural time to reflect upon the
emotional spaces that we’re striving to create and sustain. With that in mind, I turned to a few
mentors for inspiration.
Donald Graves, in The Energy to Teach, says: “You, the teacher, are the most important
condition in the room.” That sounds obvious on the surface, but what does it really mean? Here’s
more from Graves: ‘It is the quality of our own lives as we engage with the world that is one of
the major sources of energy for our students. It is the questions you ask aloud about the world,
your curiosity, the books you read, and your personal use of writing that teach far more than any
methodological course you’ve ever taken.”
I had read these words before, but rereading them at the end of August opened a new window.
The added meaning that I took this time is the value, as the summer draws to a close, of holding
on to the personal experiences and growth that we’ve had over the summer and transferring that
energy to our students. My husband and I just returned from a trip to the Pacific Northwest.
Browsing in a bookstore in a small town along the Columbia Gorge, I came across Cheryl
Strayed’s Wild, which chronicles her trek along the Pacific Crest Trail. In my graduate class, I’ll
share the serendipity of finding a perfect-fit book and encourage them to share similar
experiences.
Regie Routman, in Literacy and Learning Lessons From a Longtime Teacher says, “One of the
most dramatic and significant changes I’ve made in my teaching and coaching is to notice and
celebrate everything the learner has done well. When we celebrate the learner, we make honest
statements that explicitly acknowledge and name learner’s accomplishments.” In my experience,
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finding a balance between celebrating success and providing the constructive feedback needed
for growth can be challenging, but a foundation of trust makes it possible to achieve.
In What a Writer Needs, Ralph Fletcher shares a quote from Patrick Shannon: “Risk allows
students to outgrow themselves.” In discussing the importance of experimentation, Fletcher adds
“We need to redefine the success ethic, not just in writing classes but during the entire school
day, to mean not only Did you get it right, but also Did you take a chance? Did you try
something you’ve never tried before?”
My own teaching experience ranges from Head Start to the graduate level. I’ve found that some
things remain the same. If learning requires risk-taking, then learners of all ages need a safe
environment which encompasses a broad view of success and a celebration of small, but
meaningful steps along the way. As you begin the school year, here are some questions to reflect
on, either independently or with a trusted colleague:
*Do I share my interests and passions with my students, and invite them to do the same?
*Do I find ways to integrate these interests into the curriculum?
*Do I share my growth and struggles with literacy with my students and encourage them to do
the same?
*Do I model the curiosity and vulnerability that I want my students to evidence?
*Do my students have the autonomy to make choices with appropriate structure and scaffolding
to enhance their learning?
*Do I use read-alouds (with all ages) to build community?
*Do I use writing as a way to enhance learning and community-building in all subjects?
*Do I use language that invites open-ended responses and inquiry?
*Do I model and expect respectful communication with all members of the school community?
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*Am I creating an environment in which my students feel safe enough to take the risks needed
for learning?
How are you fostering a safe and energetic climate for learning in your classroom? What
practices have you found to be successful in the past? What new practices are you trying out this
year? We would love to hear what’s happening in your classroom!
About the Author
Janice Ewing is a PAWLP co-director and an adjunct instructor for Cabrini College. She loves reading and
writing, especially poetry, and finds energy in inquiry. She and her family and friends enjoy talking about books
and movies over good food and [email protected]
Ice Flakes
39
Physical Environments are Important for a Good Beginning
By Lynne Dorfman
The organization of your classroom sets the stage for learning. It should reflect your personal
beliefs and values as an educator. Miller says, “Classroom environments are organic – they
grow as we do. The best of them reflect the hearts and souls of those who inhabit them. They’re
never really finished. They’re never really ‘done’.” Debbie devotes the first section of her
book, Teaching with Intention: Defining Beliefs Aligning Practice, Taking Action, to setting up
the physical classroom environment and creating an energizing culture through the kind of
interactions we value and nurture with our students. She suggests inviting a trusted colleague or
two into your classroom in early September and asking him or her to tell you what the classroom
environment reveals about your own personal beliefs as an educator.
Environments really do speak out in a loud voice. As a literacy coach, I was able to visit many
classrooms. In Mrs. Lombardi’s classroom, students worked around two large tables and were
able to partner with a student to the left or right. They could establish eye contact with members
of the entire group. Mrs. Lombardi often joined them at the tables. Students had access to
myriad materials and didn’t have to rely on the teacher to get a ruler, markers, paper, etc.,
avoiding unnecessary interruptions throughout the day. The displays and counters reflected the
students’ work and allowed them to learn from each other. Books were everywhere – not just in
one place. Collective thinking was recorded through ongoing conversations on an anchor chart
and posted for easy access by all students. As new ideas bloomed, the students simply added
them to the appropriate chart. Mrs. Lombardi asked for student input to arrange and rearrange the
classroom environment; thus, creating a level of ownership, creativity, and changing focuses.
Sometimes the best ideas come from our students! After all, the students were growing and
learning new things throughout the year. The environment reflected their growth in
understandings and abilities. You don’t need test results to tell you what the children in this
environment were learning and were able to do – there was ample evidence everywhere!
The classroom environment helps create a passion for learning, giving students a chance to work
in many different combinations of peers, and through these collaborations, students form a
40
community of learners that have developed a trust and respect for each other’s thinking. A
simple checklist may help you get started:
— Post expectations for all students to see (created and charted as a class effort).
— Cluster desks for working partnerships, group work, and easy student movement.
— Place materials such as rulers, crayons, paper, and markers where students can access.
— Make sure students have an area or desk to store their personal belongings.
— Display student work at many stages – published or “work in progress” at a height where your
students can read each other’s work.
— Find an area for conferring and feedback other than at your teacher desk.
Books should be placed everywhere, not just in one location. Some suggestions include a
featured genre corner, a special shelf for duplicates of mentor texts you will use for focus
lessons, a possible area for nonfiction including newspapers, maps, manuals, magazines, etc.,
books collected for author study, a library arranged by genre or level of difficulty (easy – just
right – challenging) or both.
How have you fostered the creation and advancement of an energetic learning community by
designing an effective physical environment? Are you thinking of doing something new this
year? Your ideas are welcomed here!
About the Author
Lynne Dorfman is a PAWLP Co-director and adjunct professor at Arcadia University. She is the co-author of
several books. She enjoys writing stories and poems, planting flowers in spring and celebrating birthdays and
holidays with friends and family members. Lynne has three Welsh Corgis that keep her entertained. She misses the
days when she taught horseback riding to riders of ages four to [email protected]
41
Building Community in a Bigger Space – The Library
By Chris Kehan
For the past four years, setting up my classroom has been different than it was for the previous
nineteen years. Having taught in the regular education classroom for those nineteen years, I
made the leap into library media specialist. While I still see myself as a classroom teacher, my
classroom just grew in size and so did my number of students. Creating a space where students,
teachers, and parents feel welcome and safe to take risks is extremely important for librarians.
Most libraries are situated in the center of the school; hence it’s the hub of activity. “Entrance
through our doors admits one to infinite worlds, magical kingdoms, and the treasure trove of
knowledge created by our world’s best thinkers, artists, and scientists.” (Grimes, 2006)
Such a place as Grimes describes doesn’t only take place in September, it needs to be maintained
throughout the year. One of the pleasures I have in teaching in the library (that I had in the
regular classroom) is to share my passion for reading. I wear my reading heart on my sleeve
every day. My students know I am a reader because I share what I’ve read over the summer, as
well as what I read throughout the year. My assistant shares what she’s read too, and our
students know they can come to us for a good recommendation. Putting up a bulletin board that
features the teachers and staff in your building with the cover of the book he/she read over the
summer is a great way to show everyone is a reader. “What books, how, and to whom we
choose to present them determine who enters the kingdom.” (Grimes, 2006) Displaying our new
books prominently throughout the library entices readers of all ages to check out those books.
Using Animoto (www.animoto.com) to create videos of the new arrivals gets the children
excited to read. Oohs and aahs can be heard as the book covers appear on the screen to upbeat
music. Reading aloud with animation and voices helps to bring books and reading to life for my
students.
Choice is a big factor in book selection. When readers have autonomy over what they read, they
will read for pleasure and interest versus reading for an assignment. Getting my students to
understand themselves as readers and thinkers helps to guide them in the books they choose.
Knowing the collection is just as important because it helps me to give direction to those children
42
who are discovering themselves as readers. I love when I can provide five or six titles/authors to
my students, and they ultimately decide to choose one to take home. I know it’s been successful
when they return within a week or two to get another one by the same author or within the same
series. Often they return with a smile and say, “That was really good, do you have another one
like that?”
Creating opportunities for children to talk about books is also important to librarians and
classroom teachers. “To create a community of readers in our libraries, we need to provide the
models and the arenas for conversations to take place through the creation of book clubs, blogs,
and scaffolded dialogues.” (Grimes, 2006) One way to do this is to host book clubs. My fourth
grade team does parent-student book clubs four times within the year, and they are held in the
morning (before the official school day begins) in the library. The team and I collaborate on
what books will be read and how we can facilitate the conversation among the students and their
parents. We also use each opportunity to booktalk the next book we will be reading so as to
entice the parents and children to continue with this wonderful venue. Another way to promote
book clubs is to invite students to join an author book club. If your library hosts author visits,
then the children can be invited to join you for a morning or lunchtime book club and read one of
his/her books prior to the visit. The book club can meet weekly or bi-weekly so the momentum
is maintained and the book is read in a timely manner before the visit. If a bi-weekly schedule is
set up then a blog (www.edublogs.org) can be created to keep the lines of communication open
on the weeks the book club doesn’t meet.
In order for the library to be an open book to the community-at-large, it is important to have a
website or newsletter informing parents, children, and teachers of the happenings going on in the
library. If a library has a website, then links to newsletters, book lists, author sites, research
websites, and policies can be posted regularly. Creating bookmarks for students to take home as
they check-out books can inform parents of the website’s URL address. Refreshing the site on a
regular basis will keep parents, students, and teachers coming back to learn more about the
library and all it has to offer.
In September, open your doors to the possibilities of creating a space where people who visit
want to come back again and again. Keep those doors open throughout the year, and those who
43
enter will want to stay. Consider these questions as you work to create a space where your
students, parents, and colleagues want to enter and stay a while:
What opportunities do you provide where your students can talk about books, authors, and
interests?
How can you publicize/share the wonderful literature (fiction, nonfiction, and poetry) available
to you and your students?
How will you help your students to discover the readers that they are?
How do you transform apathetic readers into a community of engaged, thoughtful readers?
How can you invite parents into the literate lives of their children?
How will you inform students and parents of the wonderful things happening in your classrooms
on a regular basis?
Grimes, Sharon. Reading Is Our Business: How Libraries Can Foster Reading Comprehension.
Chicago: American Library Association, 2006. Print
About the Author
Chris Kehan is a library media specialist at Warwick Elementary School in the Central Bucks School District.
Prior to being a librarian she taught 4th
grade and 6th
grade for 19 years. She is the Co-Director of the Summer
Institute and Summer Courses. Some of the PAWLP courses that are offered throughout the year have been
developed by Chris. Reading and writing are her two passions that she enjoys sharing with children and
adults. [email protected]
44
Magic Cupcake
By Rita Kenefic
As a child, I relished a visit to Gruber’s Bakery for a “magic cupcake”. What was so special
about this chocolate treat? The dab of whipped cream in the center made an already delectable
cake something special. These weren’t just ordinary cupcakes. They contained an element of
surprise and magic that kept you coming back for more.
So what do these magic cupcakes have to do with teaching? Well, as a reading specialist, I’ve
spent the last two weeks assessing students who are potential candidates for small group
intervention. Today, my testing is complete and I am armed with information that will drive
decisions about the nature of support I can offer. The main advantage, however, is that I have
now met personally with over thirty students. Not only do I know their independent reading
level, I also know a little about their background, the kinds of books they like to read, and their
general attitude towards reading. For me, this knowledge is the magic that will form the core of
my future relationship with each student.
On the flip side, each of these students has had an opportunity to meet and converse with me
in a non-threatening, informal manner. During our testing time, I’ve been able to answer some
of their questions and assure them that participation in small-group intervention will be
beneficial and FUN! In any relationship, first impressions are important and the teacher/student
relationship is no exception. Like the center of that cupcake, I hope these children were
pleasantly surprised by our first interaction and leave my room anxious to come back for more.
The opportunity to meet so many students on an individual basis over the past few weeks
drives home the necessity of establishing positive relationships. No matter our subject area, the
fact that we all teach individuals with unique interests, talents, problems, strengths and
weaknesses must remain uppermost in our minds. Steven Layne (2009) contends that the four
most important words kids need to hear are “I thought of you.” As we get caught up teaching a
demanding curriculum, we can easily forget the importance of relationship.
45
In an effort to improve independent reading this year, I have recently reread two standout
books chock full of suggestions to strengthen independent reading. Both The Book Whisperer
by Donalyn Miller and Igniting the Passion for Reading, by Steven Layne address the
importance of learning about your students and using this knowledge to guide their literacy
growth. Below, I’ve distilled a few of their suggestions that I hope will work magic in my quest
to turn students into lifelong readers:
Use surveys to learn about your students interests so you can guide their book selections.
Use them again at the end of the year to show students how they have grown and
changed.
Establish high expectations. (Donalyn Miller sets a goal of forty books per year for each
of her sixth graders).
Share your own enthusiasm for reading through books talks, displaying and discussing
the grade level book you are reading, and even creating a special shelf for books you
personally recommend.
Focus on generating interest and helping students find “just-right” books. Steven Layne
suggests that conferences, group discussions, and regularly taking the “Status of the
Class” are key ways to accomplish this.
These books have inspired me to prioritize relationships this year. Hopefully, my classes will
become the magic cupcake my students crave.
How will you enhance the relationship with your students this year so that they will grow as
readers, writers, and people? Please share your ideas.
About the Author
Rita Kenefic has been an educator for thirty years. She has taught at the elementary, secondary, and college level.
Her passion for growing readers and writers is superseded only by her passion for her large family which includes
her husband, Mike, their five children and their spouses, and their nine grandchildren. [email protected]
46
Practical Management of the Writing Workshop: The Super Board
by Gaetan Pappalardo
The writing workshop is fluid. The currents and tides are in constant motion (literally and
figuratively) because it’s fueled by the human element. I’m not going to lie. It’s a mess. I know
this sounds like a headache. It certainly can be, but kids need this “mess” to find the gold. Barry
Lane, author, speaker, and musician, states in his book, But How Do you Teach Writing?, that
real writing needs time, space, and freedom.
I don’t have all of the answers because the questions change each year when your students
change. However, I do have a trick to manage the space in your classroom when dealing
specifically with conferencing. And, I’m happy today, that it’s working this year.
Help Board by Night, Super Board by Day
I first saw the help board in action when I interned at the Nancie Atwell Center for Teaching and
Learning. Ted Demille, first/second grade teacher, used this technique pretty successfully. I was
taken aback at first at how this tiny wipe board on the wall almost ran the classroom. Ted used
the board in a very basic, but effective
manner. Like a Honda, it just worked.
1. Sign up when you need help.
2. Erase your name when you are
finished speaking to the teacher.
Easy, right? Wrong. When I started using the
help board I ran into all sorts of problems––
Too many students signing up at once, kids
forgetting to erase their names, not getting to
the help board, losing markers, signing up out
of order: you name the problem, I had it. But,
of course, this is learning. However, I didn’t
47
scrap the help board right away. I wanted to give it another shot. I changed. I started using the
help board in a very specific manner. Instead of just using it for conference sign-ups, I used it for
whatever I needed to help manage my instruction and manage my writers.
So, without any further ado, let me introduce you to my new and improved, classroom tested,
kid-tested, writer-tested, teacher approved—-Super Board.
The Secret: The uses of the board need to remain fluid. The board is not set in stone and needs
to change to accommodate the needs of the teacher and the students.
Tips for a Successful, Fluid Super Board
Write and Erase: Hold the students responsible for writing their own names and also
erasing them when they are finished speaking to a teacher or help is no longer needed.
Placement is Key: Strategically position your help board so you can see it from all areas
of the classroom. Also, make sure it’s large enough to read from across the room. I
almost always meet with the students on their turf, so being able to read the board quickly
keeps your flow flowing.
Avoid a Hoard: To avoid all of your students trying to sign up at one time, introduce the
help board when you think your students have a) gained some writing stamina (writing
for longer periods of time) and/or b) have demonstrated that they can use their writing
time, not only for drafting, but for other “authorly” behaviors (rereading, revising,
editing, revisiting maps and lists, research, etc…)
Order: To keep your students in order, you can put numbers on the board, lines for
names, letters, create sections, etc… The key is to try different things until something
works.
Keep it Fluid: This is the most important tip by far. Your board needs to change with
the needs of the students and the teacher. For example, I write headings on the help board
to guide my writers. For example, I might write questions like Finished a first draft? or
Stuck? at the top of the board. If you want to get more specific, you could write Share a
48
Beginning or Used a Good Verb. I also use the board during publishing time. Just make a
t-chart—-One side says published, the other, still working.
Super Board in Transition
What strategies help you manage your space?
About the Author
Gaetan Pappalardo grew up on KISS, street hockey, and Transformers. He teaches third
grade at Green-Fields School in West Deptford, NJ and writes stuff for
Snowy Pine
49
Making it Manageable: Feedback at Every Step
By Tricia Ebarvia
Conferring with students can be exhausting. Sometimes a single conference can take 10-15
minutes, and if you have 100+ students, conferring is also incredibly time consuming. Time
spent conferring with students is time away from whole class instruction, curricular planning,
and much-needed grading. But feedback from conferring is invaluable. When I was in the
Writing Institute two years ago, I emailed Penny Kittle for some advice. I was struggling with
how to fit all the elements of the workshop model outlined in her book Write Beside Them.
When I mentioned reducing time for conferring, her response was unequivocal. “Conferring is
our most powerful teaching time,” she responded. “Everyone learns best in the context of their
own writing piece, so we have to work it into practice.” Still, time is always the issue.
Given increasing demands on teachers to do more with less, dedicating time to confer with
students can be a challenge. And yet it is “our most powerful teaching time.” So what can we
do? Over the years, I’ve pieced together a system that works for me, and maybe it will for you,
too. First, whenever possible, I’ve thought small. What does that mean? For me, it means
breaking down the writing process (including feedback) into smaller, more manageable parts.
This fall, when my freshmen were ready to begin their summer reading essays, I structured our
writing process to provide feedback at every step. Here’s what I did.
Google Forms
First, I had each student submit his thesis statement online via a Google Form I created. I
then copied and pasted the entire class’ thesis statements into one document and made copies for
the class (I removed student names). The next day, we reviewed everyone’s thesis statements as
a class using the document camera. By reviewing the thesis statements together, each student
not only received individual feedback, but also learned by looking at many student models.
Additionally, because the thesis statement serves as the foundation for the essay, I could identify
any problems before students continued writing.
50
Online Feedback
From there, we moved immediately to the body paragraphs (we save the introduction for the
end). I asked students to submit the first body paragraph online for my feedback. Our school
uses an online program - Turnitin.com - where I view and comment electronically (you could do
this using Google Drive). In this way, students could receive and read my feedback relatively
quickly. Students turned in their paragraphs on Friday, I commented on them over the weekend,
and students were able to review my comments online by Monday. Students then used my
comments as a guide for writing their second body paragraphs on Monday night.
In-class Mini-Conferences
By Tuesday, students had two body paragraphs written. During class, students began work on
their third body paragraphs. Meanwhile, I walked around the room to read their second body
paragraphs and confer with students about questions or issues they were experiencing. As I do
this with each student, I model the language of effective conferring and nearby students benefit
from hearing the feedback their peers receive. Because we were only looking at a small piece of
writing - a single body paragraph at a time - in most cases, I only needed 2 to 4 minutes per
student and I could deliver at least one piece of specific feedback to each student. There were 3-
4 students I didn’t have time to reach, so I took their paragraphs home to review, mark-up, and
return the next day.
Peer Editing & Review
By Wednesday, students had three body paragraphs written. This time, students were in
charge. Having already written two body paragraphs themselves and after receiving feedback
from their teacher, students were better equipped to provide feedback to one another. They used
this peer editing sheet to guide them. They worked silently for the first part of class to complete
the sheet and then conferred with each other when they were finished. I walked around to
eavesdrop, jump in, and comment. I found that by structuring the process this way, I’ve moved
the responsibility of feedback from me to the students. When they came in with their
introductions and conclusions a few days later, I had them exchange papers and peer edit, as well
as place a few (anonymous) samples under the document camera for class review.
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I know that this process might seem a little overwhelming. Honestly, it’s taken me years to
figure it out. I started with one piece and just kept adding and refining it to meet the needs of my
students and as the technology has changed. If you’re looking for ways to provide more
consistent and focused feedback, maybe my process can work for you. If not the whole process,
then perhaps one or two of its parts. Or maybe you have some tried-and-true tips for conferring
and feedback you’d like to share? What challenges have you faced and how have you addressed
them?
*** As an added note, Penny Kittle’s work has been unbelievably valuable to me as a teacher. In
addition to her books, she provides wonderful resources on her website, including several
handouts focused specifically on the writing workshop and conferring with students.
About the Author
Tricia Ebarvia is a teacher at Conestoga High School in the Tredyffrin-Easttown School
District. She is also a PAWLP fellow, completing the Reading & Literature Institute in 2009 and
the Writing Institute in 2011. Her teacher webpage can be found at mrsEbarvia.com.
Tulips Close-up
52
Free Students from the Chains of the Bookroom
By Rich Mitchell
I have a theory about novels. As a high school teacher, I assume that the dim, damp, locked
bookroom across the hall from my classroom is similar to many if not most high school
bookrooms around the country. Copies of To Kill a Mockingbird, The Great Gatsby,
Huckleberry Finn, and Heart of Darkness, line the shelves, some tattered, some new; some
Everbound, some paperback. My theory is this: We teach books like To Kill a Mockingbird, The
Great Gatsby, Huckleberry Finn, and Heart of Darkness because our schools own them. They’re
great books, don’t get me wrong, but aren’t the true reasons we use them financial and practical?
Do we not order ten new copies of The Great Gatsby annually because we already own so many
other serviceable copies? Can we deny that we work with To Kill a Mockingbird because it’s
easier and cheaper than finding a new book, written by a living author, with similar, yet more
current themes, and no SparkNotes?
How can we expect students to seriously read, write, and think forwardly, when everything
we use to facilitate such reading, writing, and thinking is older than their parents and
grandparents? How can we get them to understand the value of writing when we teach them that
good writing—that which is studied in schools—only happened in the past?
I’ve fought the novel fight in many ways. Due to space constraints, I’ll illustrate one. Each
spring, I am responsible for selecting the summer reading title for incoming AP seniors. I must
justify my choice to my department and my district. When the students come to school in
September, I offer extra credit for donating their books. Once they do, I have acquired a new,
school district endorsed text for use in the classroom the following year that has no
SparkNotes—a book students might enjoy because I’ve made my choice with them in mind.
Ultimately, “enjoyment” isn’t my primary concern for summer reading. Rather, I aim to help
enlighten students about their world. If I’ve selected a 21st century novel, chances are I can
justify attempting to move student writing, reading, and thinking forward working with that
novel. Currently, the progressive thinking “Everbound” to the bookroom is that “racism is
wrong,” that “slavery was horrific,” and that “utopias are actually dystopias.” Students have a
53
pretty good grasp on these things. What they don’t know is that, for instance, slavery still
happens all over the world, including in the United States. They know racism is wrong, but they
don’t understand, know about, or care to hear about institutionalized racism. Indeed, many
students believe racism has ended.
Thinking “forward” about the 21st century and the concerns that accompany it require
teachers to think about the choices we can make. It takes a little creativity, but if we’re not
creative, who is going to be? If we’re not creative, teaching English becomes an annual review of
the past, rather than a discussion based in truth and honesty about the future.
Richard Mitchell teachers Senior English at West Chester East High School
and is a doctoral student at the University of Pennsylvania studying reading,
writing and literacy. He lives in West Chester with his wife Maggie, and their
daughter, Evelyn Rae.
Cleo in Bloom
54
Learning – The Key to Positive Energy
By Rose Cappelli
In his book, The Energy to Teach, Donald Graves says, “We can never underestimate the
energy contained in learning” (79). Since I consider myself a life-long learner, I think it is
learning that is at the heart of what keeps me motivated and helps me to sustain positive energy.
In 1997 I attended my first Keystone State Reading Association Conference. I was there for
only one day, but I remember trying to get to as many sessions as possible. I recall scribbling
notes as fast as I could in my notebook, writing my own thoughts in the margins as to how I
might apply this new learning. Sometimes it was a question, sometimes a child’s name,
sometimes a star or an exclamation mark – something to show the learning I wanted to return to
and apply. That first conference experience opened up a whole new world of professional
development for me. I remember clearly the energy I felt as I shared my new understandings
with my colleagues. I have returned to the KSRA conference every year, and many others –
Reading Recovery, NCTE, IRA. Conferences always act as a source of energy to keep me
moving forward as a teacher.
Learning from and with colleagues through professional reading has also been a major factor
in keeping me energized. Many of those I consider to be my colleagues I have only met through
the pages of a book, but their thinking has energized me and influenced me in so many ways.
One of the first books to have a major effect on me as a learner was Regie Routman’s
Invitations. I immersed myself in it on a long train ride from Pennsylvania to North Carolina,
marking it up with post-its, highlighting, and margin notes. That school year I would start my
day by rereading a short section before getting the kids up and ready for school. I would think
about that passage throughout the day, trying to apply the ideas as I went about my work with
students. Of course, I went on to read just about everything Regie Routman has written, but I
think doing that short daily reading influenced me as much as her words did. Even in retirement,
I still like to start my day with some kind of professional reading. Often now it is a blog post, or
perhaps an on-line abstract of a longer article. To me, it’s like a blessing on the day – let me
think about this and how I can use it in my work. Although my professional life has recently
55
shifted, centering more on work with teachers than directly with students, reading professionally
is something I could not do without.
But my collaborations with teachers isn’t all “virtual.” I learned and continue to learn so
much from the collaborative work I have done with fellow PAWLPer Lynne Dorfman. We have
written much together, but we have also engaged in many reflective discussions about the most
effective ways to help students continue to move forward in literacy. I have found that when I
share ideas with colleagues individually, in small groups, or in larger professional book
discussions, my thinking is always nudged and my energy level is raised. As Graves reminds us,
“The more we take risks and learn from each other, the greater the energy-giving satisfaction”
(68).
Learning begins with questions. Take some time to think about the questions you have, and
consider the possibilities of where you might find the answers. Perhaps it is in your own
reflection, or maybe a conversation with a colleague. Maybe you can discover something by
reading a journal article, or a snippet from a professional book. Wherever you find the answers,
that new learning will energize you and motivate you to keep moving forward.
Source: Graves, Donald H. 2001. The Energy to Teach. Portsmouth, NH: Heinemann.
About the Author
Rose Cappelli is a 1996 PAWLP Fellow. She is the co-author with Lynne Dorfman of Mentor Texts, Nonfiction
Mentor Texts, and Poetry Mentor Texts. She continues to pursue new learning about gardening and birds. You can
read more of her blog entries at www.mentortextswithlynneandrose.com, or follow her on Twitter at
@RoseCappelli.
56
Serve Your Enthusiasm
By Bob Zakrzewski
Often this time of year when winter overstays its welcome, I find solace in the sun
stretching each day longer, melting January and February’s icy blues and chapped pinks into
March greens. And as a high school English teacher on a block schedule, facing mid-winter
accompanies meeting new students, reminding me of James Baldwin’s apt observation: “Fires
can’t be made with dead embers, nor can enthusiasm be stirred by spiritless men.”
Enthusiasm fuels my teaching. Years spent honing the art of organizing lessons and
developing an understanding of writing, although well-spent, could not sustain me. Walking into
class with a well-prepared plan and confident knowledge of the day’s literature felt great, yet,
lacking enthusiasm, the lessons fell flat.
But awareness does not equal action, and acknowledging enthusiasm’s importance did
not suddenly make me comfortable showing it. Evolving from “divinely inspired fervor” (via
Greek en/in + theos/god), the word evokes otherworldly energy I considered beyond my grasp
(No, Dead Poets Society did not inspire my career choice). More comfortable deflecting blame,
I complained, “Aren’t the students here to benefit from my knowledge? Shouldn’t my expertise
be enough to motivate them?” This mentality bred frustration, and my teaching career would not
have lasted long without changing it.
Most literature I teach, and perhaps the purpose of literature itself, promotes considering
other perspectives, yet I did not. After much trial and error addressing this problem, my self-
centered approach gave way to embracing classroom diversity. I found each student could,
regardless of ability or interest, engage more comfortably with literature if I acted as content
facilitator rather than knowledge dictator. And fortunately, I enjoyed showing enthusiasm for
their learning far more than showing it for how much I already knew.
A colleague and I recently discussed teaching challenging literature, and she mentioned
relying on how all reading and writing provides opportunities for personal and social exploration,
which can appeal to anyone in some way. The trick is finding this “way”, and an effective
57
English classroom creates a space for this exploration. My enthusiasm ignites student
willingness to, as I call it, “play school” and see where the journey goes. This exploration can
produce anxiety and discomfort, but genuinely listening to student reactions while sincerely
sharing mine forges a trusting environment where all can consider our barriers and how to
approach them. And once this personal investment is made, active reading and thoughtful
writing soon follow.
Today my classroom is a paradox of individualized itineraries on a group tour. I am the
tour guide, yet my world changes with each excursion, influenced by the varying perspectives
every traveler brings. Returning to James Baldwin, he added, “Enthusiasm in our daily work
lightens effort and turns even labor into pleasant tasks.” My pleasant task involves helping
students board the “English Class” vessel and travel out of frigid winter to the warm climes of
June, anticipating our destination, but more enthused by what the journey teaches along the way.
About the Author
Bob Zakrzewski is a 2009 PAWLP Fellow. Teacher since 1999, he currently teaches English at
Strath Haven High School and Cabrini College. In addition to literature and education, Bob is a
father, music-lover, and devoted Phillies fan--even during their current struggles. He can be
contacted at [email protected].
Feeding Time
58
Mathematical Angst in Alphabetical Ups and Downs
By June Shultz
Algebra, addition, applications--
Baffling binaries,
Computation confusion,
Divide, denied, disjointed differences,
Equals not equal; Evens are odd and never add up,
Failure, frustration—no elation.
Golden ratios: Geometry success!
Hit and Miss,
Integers,
Joy jammed—jarred jumbles of numbers,
Kill the curiosity of learning,
Low grades—hope fades,
Missing the key to algorithms and logarithms,
Numbers Not Nimble,
Odd digits, odder,
Problems—problems and more problems,
Quizzical questions, questions, and more questions,
Rough equations,
Subtraction distraction—No Satisfaction,
Tutor supplied –Theorems Applied,
Volumes of victory in vectors!
What do you mean Math’s obscene?
X + Y = Z after all!
About the Author
June Shultz (Writing fellow 2000) directed a preschool—teaching the 4 and 5 year olds, taught HS English, 5th
grade, and 8th
grade MS Language Arts over a span of 36 years. Writing and reading are her first loves, followed
by travel, rails to trails biking, and spending time with her 5 year old grandson. She currently holds multiple
positions in the Keystone State Reading Association. She lives with her husband of 46 years in Strasburg, PA.
59
MUSIC
By Don LaBranche
I’ll probably soon forget this spring,
tarnished and slouched in a long shadow
like a plumb line across the infant corn.
The sun is high over the meadow, and I’m alone
with the grasshoppers. There’s a purpose
to their song not unlike those my mother
sang at the sink after she fried the last
of the eggs for my father before he set off
to work in the barn and the fields.
She was always singing. Hymns
when we kids were in the house, but
sea shanties and pub songs
when she thought we were out of earshot.
I watched her when she sang at the sink
where hot water burned her hands. And later
by the radio at night, as she rubbed
five and dime skin cream into her palms,
her fingers, her knuckles, especially
her chapped and swollen knuckles.
Her eyes closed and her lips barely moved.
60
LOSING NOUNS
By Don LaBranche
What is it called when you take chunks
of meat and mushrooms, green peppers and onions,
skewer them on pointy metal stakes and then
lay them out cross-wise on the grill for four to five
minutes, then turn them over until the meat is tender
and the veggies are black and sweet, and you lick
your fingers after you push everything off the stake
onto white rice because the kids won’t eat the brown?
And who was that woman in the smokin’
red dress at your nephew’s wedding right around the time
of REM’s third album? The one whose husband ran off
with the pharmaceutical rep from D.C. that he met
the same night Michael Stipe bought us a high end
Pinot Noir in that Atlanta restaurant after you struck up
a conversation with him about the crème Brule.
What was her name anyway? And that town
we visited the following summer: white church
with green trim by the lake where the country store
had single bottles of beer for sale, and where they made
those sandwiches on thick black bread with home made
chips, and they had paddle boats to rent on the beach
where the college girl flirted with the lifeguard all day,
and where the ice cream stand sold those great pretzels
we liked so much buried in the fudge ripple. Was that in Maine?
Or was it in Rhode Island?
I can’t remember anything anymore.
61
About the Author
Donald LaBranche (Writing Fellow, '93) graduated from West Chester State College and Widener University. He
taught physical education, swimming, third and fifth grade in the Chichester School District. In 2002 he
participated in a week long internship at the Center for Teaching and Learning, Nancy Atwell's demonstration
school in Maine. He has taught graduate level courses for PAWLP as well as a class in Science Fiction, Fantasy,
and Horror to fascinating teen writers in the Young Writer's summer program. His poetry has appeared in
numerous publications. [email protected]
Boat Ashore
62
My Grandmom’s Kitchen
By Carol Opdyke
My grandmom’s kitchen remembers -
The steaming pots and
Sterilized canning jars.
My grandmom’s kitchen remembers -
The smell of red, ripe-picked tomatoes
Transformed into her delicious sauce.
My grandmom’s kitchen remembers –
The large purple grapes as they
Steamed on the stove and
Melted into sweet, thick jelly.
My grandmom’s kitchen remembers –
The smell of roasted fresh peppers
Baked in the oven
Perched for their new jar homes.
My grandmom’s kitchen remembers –
The crisp ears of fresh picked corn
Ready to be boiled and eaten.
My grandmom’s kitchen remembers –
The window that looked out
Over the willing vegetable garden
That grew just for her.
63
The Bike Ride
Carol Opdyke
“Just a short ride on the handlebars,” he said.
I hesitantly jumped on the front of Billy’s bike.
My heart racing with second thoughts.
Off we went down the hill
A speeding meteor racing toward earth!
In an instant, we were airborne
Our destiny unknown.
The hard blacktop awaiting our arrival.
The next few moments were a blank-
Blood
Embedded gravel
Pain
I limped home.
Billy went to the hospital
Twenty-two stitches later
We were still friends.
About the Author
Carol Opdyke is a PAWLP fellow since 2002. She is a Reading Specialist and is currently the Interim Principal at
Our Lady of Mercy Regional Catholic School. Carol lives in Hatfield with her husband, Dan, and they both enjoy
traveling and spending time with their five amazing grandchildren!
Photography Credits
Winter Street, Irish Crossroads, Moose, Lilac in Bloom, Still Water, Meg Griffin
Covered Bridge, Snow Ornaments, Ice Flakes, Snowy Pine, Boat Ashore, Carriage Roads, The Path
Meg has had many careers in her adult life from stockbroker to baker to brain injury nurse. The fates conspired until
she finally found her passion – teaching. A PAWLP Writing Fellow since 2005, Meg teaches fourth grade in the
Central Bucks School District. She regularly presents at local and national conferences, particularly on technology
integration. Meg facilitated Moving Writing into the 21st Century: Integrating Technology and
Language Arts in Bucks County last summer. [email protected]
Icy Branches, Snow Mail, Evergreen Wonderland, St. Augustine, Patty Koller
Lace Cap Hydrangea, Pink and Yellow Tulips, Sunlit Dahlia, Blizzard, Winter Treescape, Dahlia in Pink, Tulips
Close-up, Cleo in Bloom, Feeding Time
Patty taught elementary school in Ohio and Pennsylvania for 35 years. As a PAWLP Fellow, she has facilitated a
variety of courses for teachers over the past 20 years. Most recently, Patty has been teaching PAWLP courses for
youth and teachers at Longwood Gardens, where she gets to combine her love of teaching and nature. Patty also
teachers courses in literature for children and the teaching of reading and writing to undergraduate students at
Wilmington University in Delaware. [email protected]
Autumn Creek, Winter Berries Kipp Moyer
Kipp Moyer has taught a variety of elementary grades in Pennsylvania and Maryland for the past 21 years. After
taking a variety of PAWLP courses and attending workshops, Kipp became a writing fellow in 2013. Summers are
filled with her nose in a book, pen in hand in her Writer's Notebook, or behind the lens of her camera.
Boys
Carriage Roads
Submission Guidelines
Manuscripts should be sent by email as a word document attachment to
[email protected] should be double-spaced throughout (including
quotations, endnotes, and works cited), with standard margins. Word 2000 or later is preferred.
Authors using Macintosh software should save their work as Word for Windows. Paper
submissions should be sent only when email is impossible. Please save copies of anything you
send us. We cannot return any materials to authors.
Feature Articles: In general, manuscripts for articles should be no more than 10-15 double-
spaced, typed pages in length (approximately 2500-3500 words). Feature articles can be on
nearly anything dealing with the teaching of writing and reading.
Provide a statement guaranteeing that the manuscript or photo has not been published or
submitted elsewhere present or future in any format.
Lessons: 300 – 750 words. Short, practical lesson plans to bring writing and reading into the
classroom; cross-curricular ideas are encouraged.
Book Reviews: 300 – 750 words. Reviews of recent books about the teaching of writing and
reading, YA Literature, Children’s Literature, other books pertinent to education.
Poetry & Prose: 6 – 750 words. As space permits, we’ll publish poetry and prose.
Teacher Voice: 300 or fewer words on something you need to say!
Original Photographs: Send title and location. Make sure all permissions are secured.
Original Cartoons: Pertinent to Teaching
Other: Something you know we should include but isn’t listed.
General Guidelines
Number all pages.
Use in-text documentation, following the current edition of the MLA Handbook. Where
applicable, a list of works cited and any other bibliographic information should also follow MLA
style.
Please include a short biography including your email. See examples in this and other issues.
List your name, address, school affiliation, the year that you became a PAWLP Fellow,
telephone number, and email address on the title page only, not on the numbered pages of the
manuscript. Receipt of manuscripts will be acknowledged by email, when possible.
210 East Rosedale is refereed, and manuscripts will be read by two or more reviewers. We will
attempt to reach a decision on each article within four months.
Prospective contributors should obtain a copy of the Guidelines for Gender-Fair use of Language
www.pawlp.org