GOAL!

I was shopping with my wife and daughter to purchase a book for an end of the year teacher gift (as we make that grand leap to middle school).  We've been at our elementary school for 18 years (we open-enrolled our oldest there when he was in Kindergarten) and it's sad for us to even think about leaving (but that's a blog entry for another day).  My daughter settled on Dream: A Tale of Wonder, Wisdom & Wishes by Susan V. Bosak for her fifth grade teacher.
     I, of course, couldn't leave the bookstore empty-handed and I left with Mina Javaherbin's book Goal.  I couldn't resist.  Somehow, even when I'm in the bookstore buying something for someone else, I have to leave with a treat for myself.  And, oh what a gem this book is... my wife made me sit down and read it (I think she wanted it just as badly as I did and so it made its way into our pile).  Check out her website Mina Javaherbin or blog.
     In her debut picture book, the author writes a wonderful story of soccer and its role in the life of a group of boys in a small South African township.  Jamal and his friends play soccer in the streets and win a "football" at school.  They use soccer as an outlet to forget the realities that surround them.  Their federation-sized ball is a prized possession and a group of bullies arrive on the scene to steal the ball.  Jamal's quick thinking and a bit of fancy footwork add a surprising twist to the outcome.  "The streets are not always safe..." is a reminder throughout the book, but the boys find solace in their sport.  The last page is amazing...
     "Left is clear, 
     Right is clear, 
 
     Down the alley, as far as we can see is clear.  

     The streets are not safe here.  

     But we have a plan.  

     When we play, 

     the sound 

     of our kicks 

     on the ball 

     is music.  

     When we play together, 

     we are unbeatable."

I am moving to 4th grade with many of my students next year.  I'm saving this book for the first few weeks of school... as we revisit the idea of "stamina and endurance."  I write about it in Conferring: The Keystone of Reader's Workshop.  I can't wait to begin the new school year.  This book is a perfect addition to my (our) collection!

Pyrotechnics on the Page

Ralph Fletcher's latest book, Pyrotechnics on the Page: Playful Craft That Sparks Writing is now available through Stenhouse (http://www.stenhouse.com).  You can also visit Ralph's website http://www.ralphfletcher.com for other great resources. 


I picked up my copy at IRA in Chicago and this book is an extraordinary read (I read much of it during my flight home and even the turbulence of a bumpy eastern Colorado thunderstorm couldn't tear me away from its pages).  In the foreword Katie Wood Ray writes, "...with this new book, Ralph is poised to teach so many of us once again in a whole new way, and we're going to have a grand ol' time learning what he wants to teach us about playing with language."  It's true.  Like an old friend, Ralph once again invites into his writing and teaching life to explore writing and to bring "play" back into our writing workshops.   

I interviewed Ralph about his book.  It was a pleasure to chat with him about his thinking.  It was just the spark I needed. Enjoy!

Patrick:  I love how you describe pyrotechnics as “deliberate playfulness with language used by writers.”  Tell us a bit more about the title of your book and how you came to develop the term “pyrotechnics.” 

Ralph:  Well, pyrotechnics has at least two meanings. It relates to fire, of course, but it can also mean “a brilliant or dazzling display, as of eloquence, wit, or virtuosity.” To me, pyrotechnics refers to any language that makes us sit up and take notice.    

Patrick:  It’s clear that a sense of play is critical for young writers.  What are some of the practices you see being implemented in classrooms in the name of “writer’s workshop” that send shivers down your spine? 

Ralph:  Nowadays the workshops I see tend to be more scripted. Real choice in writing seems to be disappearing. I see a lot of paint-by-numbers writing. As an author, I receive letters from a class that has read one of my novels. Sometimes those letters all have the same format, and it’s clear that the kids are following a “recipe” given to them by the teacher. 

Patrick:  Throughout the book, you clearly describe your love affair with words.  What are the best ways for teachers to train their ears, eyes, and hearts to notice language at play so that they can, in turn, nudge their students to do the same? 

Ralph:  There are many ways. I think it begins with what Don Graves has said—good writing teachers must be readers and writers themselves. That’s such a powerful idea! So, read a novel and post sticky notes at places where the language makes you ooh and ahh. Share a few appropriate sections with students. Kids need to see us delighting in language that is skillfully—and playfully—used.

Patrick:  One of my favorite chapters in the book is chapter five.  In it, you talk wisely about the developmental perspective of language play.  You challenge us to “romp through the lush and forbidden grass” and to acknowledge that children often know more about language than we do.  Would you speak briefly about the developmental aspect of young writers?  What are your recommendations for teachers who have lost sight of the developmental nature of writing?
 
Ralph:  Skilled writing teachers steer by several stars: what you know about individual kids, what is appropriate for writers at the grade level you teach, and, yes, the writing curriculum. But there are rough developmental levels for young writers, and we forget this at our own peril. Second grade teachers may feel pressured to teach paragraphing in order to get kids ready for the state writing test but, in my opinion, paragraphing is a skill better left to be taught in 4th grade.

Patrick:  You write about play and the essential elements that define play (chapter 12).  When you walk into a classroom, how do you know it is "play-full"?  What do you hope to see and hear when you visit a classroom (both primary and intermediate)?
 
Ralph:  I want to hear laughter. Humor is essential! I want to see writing displayed on the walls that reflects what kids do at that age. Instead of typing up correct (standard) first grade stories, put stories on the walls written in their own handwriting, in their own zany spellings. I want to see diverse writing: different kinds of topics. Most important: when I read those stories I want to hear kids’ authentic voices.

Patrick:  In chapter twelve, you talk about igniting pyrotechnics in the classroom and you share some common principles for promoting language play in the classroom.  How might you further encourage teachers to notice when it is time to introduce a specific strategy or skill and to take the pyrotechnic concept “deep”? 
     Speaking of deep, I often hear teacher’s say, “I want to know how to take students deeper.”  Would you take a few moments to give us your definition of “depth” when it comes to pyrotechnics?

Ralph:  I am the (co)author of Craft Lessons, and Pyrotechnics on the Page has 24 new craft lessons showing kids how they can play with words when they write. I am all about craft, but at the same time I think we have to be careful not to focus too much on craft. Yes, we teach our students various strategies, craft elements, techniques. But at some point the writer should put that stuff aside and just write.
    It’s a slow-growth model. In math we introduce a concept, demonstrate it, give kids homework (to see if the are picking it up), then give a pre-test, then a final test to see if they have mastered the concept. Writing is completely different. We may introduce a craft element in the fall, but the young writer may not really use it until the spring—or even next year!
       So “depth” requires requires kids to have sustained time to write with all the conditions we know are so important for writers: choice, ownership, and supportive response.

Patrick:  In chapter sixteen, you provide teachers with rich and varied craft lessons and you mention that they should “not be taught randomly or as part of some arbitrary preset sequence.”  Don Graves always referred to these one time shots as “cha-cha-cha” curriculum.  What would you say to a teacher who introduces a pyrotechnic craft and then checks it off his/her list and moves on to the next lesson?

Ralph:  I would say: good, you have introduced it. But pay attention to their choice writing (including jottings in their writer’s notebook) for hard evidence that they are actively using the strategy, that it has truly become part of their repertoires as writers.

Patrick:  What do you hope readers will walk away with after reading Pyrotechnics on the Page? 

Ralph:  Paul Overstreet has a country song, “Take Another Run At Our Love,” that has these lines:

    Let’s have a little fun with it, darling,
    Love don’t have to be so serious…

    Grammatical errors aside, I think we all get the point. Instead of “working” on our relationships, we might do better to play at them.  Let’s enjoy each other! And writing is the same way. Writing in school doesn’t have to be so drearily serious, so sanitized, so stripped clean of all the qualities that we enjoy when we read for pleasure: irony, humor, whimsy, musicality, double meanings, etc. 

    Strong writing contains language used in a way that is playful and fun. Kids do this naturally—they really are interested in language—so in this regard writing teachers are already halfway home. Facilitating language play in the writing classroom begins with paying attention to the playfulness with language that is already there in our students’ speech as well as in the world around them.

Patrick:  What project is next for you? 

Ralph:  I have four different kinds of books under contract (yikes!) including a young adult novel, a picture book, and a professional book about using mentor texts with in the writing classroom. It will be a busy year! 

Patrick:  Thanks Ralph.  I can't wait until the next one!

IRA Poem

Outside the glass walls

of the convention center,
the big lake shines
tranquil blue,
almost aqua.
Bouncing buoys in the waves.
Gulls flying.
A ship gliding in the distance.

Inside, near the exhibit hall,
teachers sit in clumps
on chairs,
at tables,
in trios,
in pairs
spreading out on convention carpet
of blue, orange, yellow, and
read.

Read?

Perusing book bags,
Sharing session notes,
Emptying complimentary totes.
Contemplating new learning.

Teachers writing.
Teachers talking.
Teachers sharing.
Teachers laughing.
Teachers packing boxes for shipping;
Wallets empty, minds full.

Glimmering in the distance,
the Chicago skyline glimmers.
Filled with people who learned
To be…

Because of teachers. 

Thank you for the challenge, Mary Lee... this is poem #30...  

Chipotle, in Chicago? Really?

Chipotle on the Michigan Avenue,
Three Tacos, Hard Shells
Chicken
Pintos, No Sauce
Mild Tomato Salsa
A Bit of Green As Well
Light Cheese and Sour Cream
Lots of Lettuce
Iced Tea with Lemon


The perfect Chicago meal...
fine dining, not, but delicious!


Seriously?
I knew you when in 1993
you took over Dolly Madison
on Evans, near DU!
Brought to school by teammate Deb.
Burritos with rice?  Strange then.
Not so strange now!
Really... It's amazing...
Who knew you'd grow up so quickly.

Guess where I ate when I got to Chicago tonight?  Better than a hotel burger, I'd say.  Is it May yet?  These poems are killing me!   

Airport Birds

Ode to the Airport Starling

Viewing the concourse
From cold steel rafters,
Flitting and flying,
Filling the airport with song.

Zipping to empty tables,
Quickly.
Nesting hidden corners with
napkin bits and straw wrappers.

Singing outdoor songs, indoors.
Chirping a starling’s song.
Calling the terminal home,
Like a bad Tom Hank’s movie.

Your body bulges with
Droppings from Paradise Bakery.
Cracker crumbs,
Salad bits,
Scraps of bread,
You’re dancing a hiphop
Around each tasty morsel.

Almost unnoticed, you fly,
Hearing giggles and seeing pointing fingers
Of two young sisters
Waiting for their turn to fly.

You would fly free too…
If it weren’t for that damn glass!
But for now, 
airport living is the life!

I wrote this today while sitting in the Denver airport, waiting to leave for IRA in Chicago.  Amazing little creatures, those airport birds... poetic, but a bit annoying as well!
 

Finding Your Smile

Last night at a staff developer's meeting (Ellin Keene has been doing a marvelous job of leading us for four nights this year), my colleague from the PEBC (Public Education and Business Coalition), Susan McIver, handed me a copy Augustus and His Smile.  She thanked me for letting her visit my classroom and for "making such an impact."  Really?  I was so surprised.  Such a kind token of thoughtfulness, just the kind of thing you expect from someone like Susan.  Well, when I read it, was flabbergasted.  

     There have been a lot changes happening around my school and throughout our district (some good, some bad, some indifferent--but that's another blog entry).  How did Susan know this was just the book I needed to read?  How did she know that it's words would speak so eloquently to me on my first day back with kids after our spring track-off period?  How did she know that I've been searching for answers for the past few weeks?
     In this book, Augustus has lost his smile and doesn't know where to find it... so he begins the search.  He searches through jungles, deserts, and oceans... and finally finds it in a pool of water after the rain just under his nose.  
   Catherine Rayner did it for me today.  It's the old "there's no place like home" and "the grass isn't always greener" scenero.  Because as we all know... there is no place like home and the grass on the other side of the fence isn't as green as we think it looks. 
    So within the cycle of uncertainty of ending a year, the perplexities of transitioning to a new school year, and throughout the process of change within this system called "school," I'll be falling back on this book... often!   Thanks, Susan, for sharing it with me!  It made me smile.

Blu? Bleu? Blue?

This week a colleague sent us a picture of her new Great Dane puppy named Bleu.  So, one of the poems I jotted in my writer's notebook this week is about our Australian Shephard, Blu.  She was a great dog ( my wife and I inherited her from my brother and sister-in-law when they moved to Alaska).  Piercing blue eyes.  Long blue merle coat.  An affinity for chasing ducks.  A quiet presence.  A gentile and graceful friend.  A happy wag and a love for snow.  She and Nicholas, our black spaniel mix, were always the best of pals.
     We eventually had her put to sleep.  It was a sad day.  She was old, blind, and weak.  Her coat had lost most of its luster.  We tried to replace her with Annie, another Aussie, but she wasn't the same (although she, too, was a good dog).  There was only one Blu (and Nicholas too).
     Haven't had a dog since (although a Newfoundland tops the list)... but we have memories.  Blu falling off a two-story balcony and surviving, wandering blindly down below (no injuries).  Blu running across fallen trees over mountain river streams.  Blu breathing with the WORST dog breath ever.  Blu eating her way through any fence that tried to contain her.  She was a long-haired Aussie, beautiful.  A great dog.  So, thanks to my colleague for sharing Bleu and thanks to Mary Lee for nudging me to write a poem each day.  This is the first one I'm sharing:

Blu

I saw your puppy, Bleu today.
My heart was reminded of our Blu.
 
I often dream of her dancing in the snow,
throwing white winter wisps high into the air,
watching snowflakes land on her blue merle coat,
melting softly into silky fur.
Seeing her smile.

I often dream of her waiting,
sitting beside me patiently, longing for a pet,
wagging her tail with hope,
asking with piercing blue eyes for a treat,
knowing she is loved.
Seeing her smile.

I often dream of her sleeping soundly,
laying on my tired feet, snoring,
her heartbeat gently warming cold toes,
knowing she'll soon want a walk,
one eye opens, hoping it comes soon.
Seeing her smile.

I often dream of her barking softly,

sharing her quiet voice, demure,

a happy bark rumbling from deep inside,

never obnoxious, always sincere,

a bark of happiness and joy.

Seeing her smile.

I saw your puppy, Bleu today.

And was reminded.
I miss our Blu...