Friday, November 8, 2013

The Seven Greatest Truths about 8th Grade Students

Author's note: the following is a mentor text of informative writing that I developed while writing alongside of my 8th grade students. As my topic is about 8th grade students, I used several of my kids as primary sources and quoted them throughout the essay. I only included first names for the sake of honoring their privacy.


Once upon a time, a teacher stood, firm with confidence, and proclaimed to the sea of students before him, “we are preparing you for the high school.”

And the wind went out of the childrens’ sails.

For ages, adults have reminded adolescents that something greater looms on the horizon...and the time to prepare is now. While there is nothing wrong with teaching kids that the work will be harder in the near future, we can not forget about their unique needs in the present moment.

It seems like a reasonable statement, doesn’t it?

We are preparing you for the high school.

However well-intentioned, that sentiment can row the ship in the wrong direction. Quite frankly, an eighth-grade student is not in the high school and, as we’ll see through their words, being prepared for something in the future is the furthest thing from their minds.

So, I wonder, what happened to teachers focusing on 8th graders having a rich experience this year? Perhaps, taking a step back and reading what 8th graders say about themselves will help us remember the role we should be playing in their lives:

1. “Emotions are temporary, but they feel like forever.” --Amit
Perhaps no psychologist could articulate the emotions of a middle school student any better than 8th grader Mark when he writes, “Emotions lead our mind and tell us what to do, think, and feel." As a teacher, I have to take this into account every day, because, at any moment, one student may be counting on my empathy and not my desire to train them for ninth grade. They depend on us to help them in the moment by being with them in this moment. Suchi reminds me, “Though we are constantly attempting to mask our emotions, we never truly will be able to. Our emotions shine through, no matter what.”


2. “Every second counts.” --Jane
When polling my second period class, Alex notes, “How do we enjoy the year with all of this homework?”Older middle school students begin to realize the value of habits because so many opportunities arise in their lives--they want to do everything, but often can’t. Even at the age of thirteen, Melissa knows, “Procrastination comes back to bite you.”

3. “We can make decisions by ourselves which can propel our little sailboats forward or backward.”
In the subtitle, Amber paints a metaphor of adolescents as boats in the enormous sea of life. And eighth grade students love the openness of that metaphorical sea. They seek control over their lives for the first time in their lives. “We are more mature now,” writes thirteen year-old Elaine, “and we can handle some things by ourselves. But we actually think we can handle anything the world throws at us, which isn’t true.”

4. “My friends are my second family. They are the world.” --Rebecca
According to student, Caroline, “Losing a friend is worse than getting your heart cut out.” Classmate Anna agrees when she writes, “Friendship is more joy than anything else, but losing it hurts more than anything else.”In this stage of life, adolescents exhibit an awareness of the value of a good friend, and often recognize the special qualities of friendships from their younger years, even if that friendship no longer exists.

5.”No one is exactly the same as you, and perfection is nothing but a thing of our imagination."
Ashely's inspiration for the subtitle of this section, reminds me that when we take the time to listen to our students, we raise our awareness as to just how in-tune they are to the world around them. In this case, Cierra offers a perspective all of can appreciate, “We are all different. Different grades, hobbies, friends, lives. But we shouldn’t judge each other by our differences but connect with our similarities." Similarly, Farris notes, “Difference mean so many things, where we come from, what is our religion, and how we are. But that shouldn’t change other people’s perspectives of us. We are ‘US’--don’t try to change us, because you can’t do it.”

6. “Going against society’s perspective...we’re all beautiful, not in how we look of what we say, but in what we are.”
An 8th grader begins to learn to accept themselves and find the goodness inside, as Laura, student, suggests in the subtitle. Other students follow that encouraging perspective. Ellie writes, “A self-image isn’t a mirror image of yourself. It’s ideas and beliefs that make you you.”

“Everyone has different standards; stick to yours." --Jonathan
Bombarded with the lessons and demands of parents and teachers, 8th graders begin to define, for themselves, a sense of what is right and what is wrong. “Fairness is something to learn, but everyone has a different idea of what it is,” writes Shuhan. Eighth grade students need to exercise the “fairness muscle” in their brains today as their sense of justice transitions from an egocentric or childish perspective to one that allows them to live in, and handle, the moment.

After twenty years in the classroom, I have learned that “preparing 8th graders for the high school” is neither a thirteen year-old’s most pressing need nor my priority. Thirteen year-olds come to us with a specific set of skills, needs, and desires. Each year they come into our lives open and optimistic that this is the year that they can depend on a teacher to take care of them, not just be another adult who tells them what to do because we know better.

Working with what makes this year unique, teachers should build every day around what is needed today. Take care of them.

In the end, few will ever remember what we taught, but many will remember how we made them feel.









Sunday, November 3, 2013

Same Sin, Different Girl

Included in most lists of weak or dead words are very and any form of get. As a middle school English teacher, a thirteen year-old's leap from very to a more accurate word is often confused with mild adjustments: incredibly, extremely, really, and hugely.

For instance, instead of very happy a student might revise their text to really happy. I try to help students understand that if a writer suggests that something is more than happy (very happy) or that degrees of happiness exists...then a more accurate word or phrase exists. I have seen gaskets pop out of young heads when suggesting, "perhaps a simile or metaphor would be more helpful to the reader?"

Very, in all of its forms, stagnates writers--and it allows young writers to develop lazy habits. Really happy is no better than very happy.

Same sin, different girl.

In the case of get, I find students paralyzed by it. When challenged to invoke a stronger verb in its place, students think in terms of precision bombing their text rather than carpet bombing it. They think of the pen (or keystroke) as a surgeon does a scalpel--cut out the ugly growth, stitch up the wound, and perform a little plastic surgery.

Unfortunately, revision is not that clean. Revision, even of singular words, can be messy. I want kids to see writing, and the revision of writing, as more like playing in the mud and less like performing surgery.

This is the opening of an essay by a student currently in my class:

A lot of people in less developed countries don’t get many chances, unlike the people who get advantages. We are those people, and are educated, get a decent meal, and clean water, some things that those people desperately need. But the fact is, that we overlook those things.
While it is a solid thought marred by some structural issues in the second sentence, my eyes only see three words: get, get, and get. I want her to revise this--but the common knee-jerk reaction by students would treat get like a blemish and seek the best product to cover it up. In this case, my student might revise:
...countries don't receive many chances...
...people who receive advantages...
...receive a decent meal...
For many years, students have asked, "How do I find that many different words for get?" So, they settle on the one word that camoflauges the problem.

Same sin, different girl.

After twenty years in the classroom, I finally feel confident in articulating how help students beyond suggesting find a better word--which is misleading and feeds into a student's sense of a writer as surgeon. My hope is for my current students to understand that they need to disentangle their text from those words.

Get and very, in all of their forms, are not a writer's words. They are words reserved for speech. We speak those words because time is a variable when we talk. When our brains grapple for the right word, we pause, stutter, or stall. In most cases of speech, our brain settles on the lightest words: get and very. And that is acceptable to most. I imagine less than 1% of the population would halt someone  during conversation and ask, "--get? what do you mean by get?"

As an aside, while such a person might be booed and hissed out of society, the intentions deserve a closer look. The Oxford-English dictionary lists well over 250 possible definitions for get. Quite simply, get is one, vague verb.

As writers, we have a commodity that does not exist when we speak--time. We have the time to open a dictionary or a thesaurus; we have the time to confer with peer; and we have the time to put our writing aside, and think about what we would like to write. Imagine being midstream in a reply during a conversation with a friend and walking away--to mull a better combination of words other than very happy.

No one would do that.

Yet, when we are writers, we must. Teaching students to avoid these weak words is more than a practice in developing vocabulary. We are teaching them patience and perseverance, and, more importantly, we are teaching them to stretch themselves--to not be satisfied with the first, and often lightest, word grasped. Yes, those weak words are fine during the draft stage. Yet, as a regular part of the final stages of our surface revisions, help young writers by pressing them to dig to disentangle the weakest words from their text.

And remind them, writing is more like playing in the mud then performing surgery.


Monday, October 28, 2013

Podcast: A Boy's Life - Episode 3

The third episode of my podcast series, A Boy's Life, on my adolescence in Philadelphia in the early 1980s.

While my first two episodes focused on the grittier bones of being a kid (bullying, fighting, and competition) I also tried to frame images of Philadelphia that have really stuck with me.

This episode is a little lighter. It pulls together four vignettes about dancing.

I was in no way a dancer, but it was interesting to think back on all of the opportunities for dance. It was (and is) a bridge from childhood to adulthood...a way for young people to play at being adult...to approach the opposite sex...to put aside childish things.

The four vignettes:

  1. my being forced to dance with my mom in the middle of my aunt's living room 
  2. our parody of the Village People for the 8th grade talent show
  3. the 8th grade dance contest 
  4. the local dance show "Dancin' on Air"
A Boy's Life is available for free on iTunes, but the third episode can also be accessed here: The Dancer.