Putting the Boards On

I remember my brother, standing at the top of Vail Mountain, sobbing. He must have been 5 or 6 years old and my dad was trying to remain patient. I was 10 and had been skiing for years and was doing little to mask my indignation toward my brother for his reluctance to put the skis on and head down. He wanted to take the gondola down and my father, a weekend ski instructor for children in Vail's early days, was having none of it. "If you're going to learn to ski, David," he explained for the thousandth time, "you've got to put the boards (the skis) on." You can't just talk about skiing. You can't just watch movies about skiing. You have to do it." David cried louder. My father was undeterred, probably because he'd been through it so often with other people's children.

"It's that way with anything. If you want to get as good as the guys in the movies," -- my brother loved to watch Jean Claude Keely skiing movies - "you have to put the boards on." David paid attention to that. He definitely wanted to get as good as the guys in the movies. He was certain, by the age of 4 that he had a future as an Olympic skier. Finally, he took a deep breath, stepped into the bindings and, tears freezing on his cheeks, pointed the boards down the mountain.

My father has been a source of common sense, folksy and mostly wise counsel for me for as long as I can remember. His admonition to David was, of course, about skiing, but it became family lore. When, as children, we were reluctant or frightened and, to this day as he faces the challenges of aging, dad will say, "Gotta put the boards on." That's just before he hits the slopes or mounts his horse for an early morning ride.

We don't get good at anything without repetition and practice. That notion applies to literacy teaching and learning as well and, as we all know, is sometimes easier said than done. If children are to become skilled readers and writers, they have to "put the boards on". They have to read and write (speak and listen) for long periods of time every day. In my own classroom, I remember thinking back over jam-packed days during which my students had not had sustained time to read or write. The activities and projects, assemblies and specials had consumed another precious day. I know the many demands placed on teachers, but if we attend to the distractions rather than "putting the boards on," we do so at the children's peril.

In the late 1970's, a well-respected reading researcher, Delores Durkin, studied hundreds of elementary classrooms around the country and found, to educators' great dismay, that less than 20% of children's time during the time each day set aside for reading class was actually spent reading. How could this be, we wondered. What on earth are the children doing during reading, if they're not reading? The answers were plentiful. The children were completing workbook pages, meeting with the teacher for small group instruction, answering comprehension questions, drawing lines from the picture of the hat to the "h" on endless skill sheets. Literacy educators resolved to change this grim scenario and the "whole language" and other literature-based approaches to reading were, in part, the result of that effort.

And things have changed, right? Children read much more in today's classrooms. Sadly, no. Recent studies have shown that as little as 10% of elementary children's reading time is spent reading and the percentages decrease, as they get older.

These are the findings underlying Cornerstone's notion of Composing, the second major component of the literacy workshop all of you are developing and refining in your classrooms. We purposefully chose not to refer to this chunk of the literacy block as "independent reading and writing time" because we wanted to indicate that Composing is focused on children's independent reading and writing in order to understand and create meaning. When we "compose", we are engaged in the process of comprehending interesting text, interacting with others in meaningful dialogue and writing in a way that others will find meaningful. We're composing. Of course, when children are composing, they get irreplaceable practice and repetition in using the surface structure systems they've learned as well as creating meaning and comprehending. When they're composing, they've "got the boards on."

We believe that Composing should be the single largest chunk of time set aside in the literacy block each day. Each teacher must make his or her own decision about how much time to set aside, but we've found that beginning the school year with a smaller chunk of time can give way rather quickly to increasingly long periods of uninterrupted reading and writing, speaking and listening.

Many teachers have expressed concern about what children should be doing during Composing time, particularly when they are conducting small, needs-based groups - Invitational Groups - with other children. Others have asked about the purpose and role of centers children work in during Composing, and still others have asked about the need to have students complete activities and skill sheets during Composing. I'd like, in my dad's tradition, to propose three common sense principles Cornerstone teachers might wish to use in making thoughtful decisions in the use of Composing time each day.

  1. Children (even our youngest) will read and write for long periods of time if they are taught to do so. I'd like to put the myth of young children's "short attention span" forever to rest. Have you ever watched a kid in front of a screen?!?!?! I've also learned that an engaged child isn't only one in front of a screen! I have witnessed dozens of classrooms in which young children read and write independently for increasingly long periods of time throughout the school year.  

    They need interesting, engaging text to read and they need topic ownership and a clear sense of purpose and audience for their writing in order to engage for long periods of time. Providing these resources is our job. We need to clearly express the value we place on spending long periods of time reading and writing, helping them realize how terribly sad it is if they don't fully capitalize on that time.  

    We need to model for children - describing and showing them what it looks like to be deeply engaged in reading or writing - how we reread and rewrite many times in order to compose meaning. We need to be explicit with children that, as we move about the classroom, observing and conferring, we will reward - with our presence and attention - children who have spent long periods of time "with the boards on".  

    We need to share the successes some children are having as they seek to increase the amount of time they spend reading and writing and make clear what children should do - independently - if they "finish" a book or a piece of writing. The tubs on their tables should be brimming with new and well-loved books at an appropriate level for their surface structure practice and others that are suitably engaging for deep structure practice - even if they can't read all the words. They should know that starting a new piece in their writer's notebook or conferring with a peer are options to pursue when they've reached a stalemate in their writing. The goal - always - is to return to reading and writing as soon as possible.  

  2. We need to maximize our individualized teaching during Composing. Few would argue that the most precious gift we can give a child is our undivided attention to his or her learning needs. When we create a Composing block long enough to permit ourselves time to confer with individual children, we are giving them the opportunity to learn in the most direct, relevant and engaging manner possible. We've had many questions about the difficulty of conferring with each child in reading and writing frequently. My response is that a well-timed conference focused on a specific teaching intention with an individual reader or writer may take the place of a dozen Crafting sessions or Invitational Groups. It is just that important to find time to confer. 

    You may find that some children require a quick conference several times a week and others may need longer conferences, but only once every second or third week. We need to be aware of and flexible in responding to these varying needs.  

    Invitational Groups are used when a small group of children share a learning need, thus making your individualized instruction more efficient. We believe that teachers who confer and who use Invitational Groups to respond to children's shared need may never again need "scheduled, homogeneous reading groups". These groups, for which there is little research support, may be useful to some at certain times and, for others, are merely an unwelcome interruption from the important business of Composing. Teachers who confer know what their children's learning needs are and can respond immediately, personally and in the context of the book or writing the child is currently composing.  

    In the same way that composing consumes the greatest single period of time for children in the literacy block, conferring should consume the single greatest period of time for their teachers.
     
  3. There is no substitute for reading and writing during Composing time. There are authentic and relevant activities other than reading and writing that are justifiable during Composing. I've witnessed wonderful student-led book clubs, peer conferences and child-generated projects that focus on sharing children's thinking about a book or piece of writing. These activities are completed during Composing, as are the occasions when our very youngest readers spend listening to books on tape and following along in their own text. There may be some opportunities for children to read to peers in the classroom or in lower grades and an occasional time for them to work on book recommendations to others and on the selection of new books for their tubs. Beyond these, however, I see few defensible activities that should take place during Composing.  

    Many have queried us about learning centers that, especially for kindergarteners and early first graders, can provide invaluable opportunities for children to speak and listen to one another. Beyond the first two grades, however, children can shift their attention to book discussions and peer conferences to enrich their speaking and listening skills. Too many centers are simply collections of activities for children to complete while their teachers are working with another small group of children. They are, in other words, a way to manage the rest of the children while the teacher is meeting with a small group. This is not a justifiable use of children's time. They should be reading and writing.  

    Teachers in Cornerstone schools should know that there is absolutely no research or practical evidence to support the use of workbooks or skill sheets. The reason is clear. Children who are taught surface structure skills on worksheets rarely retain and reapply those skills in "real" reading and writing. Instead, the very important surface structure skills can and should be introduced to children in the context of real books and the children's own writing, ideally on topics of their own choosing. The teacher can easily check for application of the skill through conferences with the children. As they grow older, children can be asked to show their use of a particular surface structure skill or deep structure strategy through literature logs, artistic depictions, or through oral or dramatic demonstrations. The Cornerstone Literacy Framework includes dozens of these strategies, particularly in the speaking and listening teaching intentions.

When you read a book you can't put down or read about a writer you admire, when you go to your book club and listen with admiration to the others as they explore ideas from the book you've all read, you're seeing the result of a reader or writer who has spent years composing. You're experiencing what we all want for our own children and for the children we teach. Certainly children need to learn skills as they progress; hence the Cornerstone learning outcomes, but they need great books and authentic writing experiences in which to apply those skills.

My brother became a great skier. He put the boards on and headed down the hill. He was scared and needed modeling and explicit instruction in order to push off. There are lessons in that little tale for all of us - "you gotta put the boards on."