A Happy Success

Last week I had the privilege of speaking with a double class of sixth graders and their two teachers. I told the story of how this came about in the previous blog; now I can tell what it was like.

Before I started talking about writing nonfiction and the importance of revision, I encouraged them to interrupt with questions at any point. They frequently did, asking to see my books, asking if I made money writing them, asking where I got my ideas. You could power a city with their energy!

When I asked why they wrote, the first answer was, “for fun”—my heart sang. When I asked about purposes for writing, they were able to list many. They also understood the importance of audience, agreeing that a letter to a grandparent would describe their weekend differently from one to a buddy. And when I asked about artificial intelligence and both its impact on and role in writing, their sophistication blew me away. Students referenced the unreliability and poor quality of AI writing, though they acknowledged using it.

I talked about my own writing journey, from being in a junior high writing group and seeing my poems—bad though I now know they were—in print to the writing of my most recent book, my first work of fiction. I encouraged them to read widely because it was fun and would make them better writers. Many nodded at that, and some even described their favorite books and series. Others complained that they hadn’t found books of interest, and I encouraged them to use librarians as resources, assuring them that once they found the right books, they would want to read them. I told the story of my scientist husband’s journey from near-illiterate writer to accomplished memoirist, thanks in good part to the support a writing group. They were responsive and engaged; I found their gusto inspiring.

Then they formed small groups to revise the AI-drafted poorly written paragraph I’d sent. They could read it on the whiteboard, and all of them had it on their Chromebooks. Despite the occasional grumbling about group work, their groups did rewrite the paragraph. Some just reworded it without reducing the wordiness, but some did a really good job. If I were to do this again, I would emphasize finding the main idea and amplifying it without extras, and I would explain the difference between revising and editing better.

After our debriefing, students began to pack up. One brought me a part of her story to read, several surprised me by asking for autographs, and one gave me the picture that you see here as a gift. They really made me feel validated. I hope they found it to be a good learning experience. I know I learned from them.

When I research the state of education for my blogs, the doom and gloom can be daunting. This experience gave me far more hope than the research implies. Two committed teachers working together with a large group of learners, coping with some chaos to produce enthusiastic and effective results—that’s what schools should be like.   

I’m so glad I had this chance… but I confess that I no longer have the stamina more teaching would require. I came home and took a nap! So thank you, students and teachers, for inviting me, and keep on writing!

A Happy Role Reversal

I truly miss the classroom and interacting with students. I don’t miss grading papers or dealing with difficult adults or arguing over standards and curriculum—and we have loved retirement—but connecting with learners is what drew me into teaching in the first place. It’s seductive, perhaps even addictive, to help teens find their best selves, to facilitate their becoming critical thinkers, effective communicators, and collaborative workers.

When I was still teaching, I had the luxury of bringing in outside experts. Robert Goldsborough, published author and Chicago Tribune columnist, talked to my writing classes about his process. A professional pollster talked to my problem-solving class about how to design the surveys they needed, and an all-female Macbeth troupe talked about how to read and interpret Shakespeare. I myself was not without resources in those areas, but I was all too familiar with the “prophet in your own land” syndrome: people often disregard or discredit valuable insights, talents, or leadership from those they know well. Indeed, a colleague in my own department came to me to suggest that I might benefit from taking a district problem-solving course when I was the one teaching it! I knew that outsiders carried a certain cachet, not to mention offering a break in routine, and my students and I all benefitted.

Now, I’m excited to say, the “shoe is on the other foot.” A sixth-grade teacher saw my books and bio at a local library’s author’s fair and asked them to reach out to me to see if I would talk to her students about writing. Of course, I said yes! In ten days, I get to talk a bit about my own process… they’re working on revision, so I’ll focus on that. I asked if we’d have time for an activity, if I could give them a badly written paragraph to revise in small groups which we could then debrief. She loved the idea. Only problem: I struggled to provide an appropriately bad paragraph. I turned to AI and, after several refinements and iterations, have one to share.

I don’t know how this will go, but I do know I’m excited. I am too old to return to the classroom full-time, especially given the current challenges, but I’m eager for this opportunity and happy to support a creative teacher who tries different things. I know my visit will be a learning opportunity for me, and we’re never too old to learn.