(12/3/12) Final thoughts...

Throughout the course of this semester, I have continually asked myself what I want out of this program, and more specifically out of my fieldwork experience. There are many approaches to teacher preparation, ranging from the hands off sink-or-swim model to the more hyper involved teacher-proofing methods, but I think Bomer & Bomer (2001) highlight the most important aspect of a quality teacher preparation program: the inquiry based model. If we, as teachers, are not continually “questioning our teaching and making it better,” then we open ourselves up to enormous risk, and more importantly we run the risk of failing our students. In order to question our teaching, we first must have an understanding of our role as a teacher and its complex relationship with the social system. There will be no way, for us (as teachers) to have a constructive impact on the social injustices of the classroom if we refuse to acknowledge their intricate presence. Everything about the schooling system and experience is political, so teachers, whether they accept it or not, are hugely political figures. Because of this reality, we must have a strong “public consciousness” in order to actively promote social justice through the mode of educational equity (Bomer & Bomer, 2001). This is obviously easier said than done, as are most important aspects of teaching. A progressive teacher preparation program must underscore the composite forces behind each decision presented in a classroom, and give the teacher the faculty to make these decisions within a framework that reaches far beyond the classroom walls, ultimately addressing each student within their individual, social, and political context. With that in mind, my goal this semester (and the next three) is to continue developing my “teaching compass” that will guide me throughout my career and allow me to self regulate my progression on a daily basis. To be a teacher is ultimately to be a student, as the necessity for continual “questioning” and pursuit of theoretical and practical knowledge should never be limited to the structure of a teacher preparation program.

(11/26/12) The Power of Critical Literacy

Critical literacy is among the most important subjects for developing English teachers. As we talked about extensively last class, there is an internal struggle within many English teachers about how and what to expose their students to in terms of language and its political authority. Although we acknowledge that all students should feel a level of respect in regards to their own language and dialect, there is also a level of access that can really only be revealed through the study of the “power language.” I think critical literacy attempts to unite this divide within the classroom, as it empowers students to view language as a tool for social justice, and exposes students to the political and social implications of varying dialects and languages. In the United States, for instance, countless high school students enter school each day and speak (almost exclusively) a valid dialect called African American Vernacular English. It is first important to acknowledge the legitimacy of this language and its purpose as a dialect, in order to respect the language differences of all students. Legitimacy aside, the unfortunate truth is that AAVE is not the power language of our modern society, and a student that is fluent in only AAVE will have access to far less societal rewards than a student who is also fluent in the power language. Since the power language today is Mainstream English, it is important (for reasons of access) for teachers and students alike to approach it as such. Critical literacy promotes the idea that “language is not neutral” and all language situations are political at heart (Behrman 2006, p. 480). Language communication is perhaps the most political aspect of human life, as we all use language to represent ourselves to our immediate surroundings.

With that established, it is important for students to be equipped with the proper language tools in order to have access to multiple environments (beyond their “home” environment). Critical literacy helps expose students to these differing environments, as it develops students’ inquiry and analytical skills when addressing a text (Molden, 2007). Why was this written? What is the audience? How do I receive the text? Why was this included in my curriculum? All of these questions are critical for understanding the overall political purpose and power behind any given text. New research and studies about tangible classroom practices involving critical literacy will be key for the sustained impact of the theory, however as our readings revealed for this week, there are already many diverse practices being used in classrooms to promote critical literacy and to empower students language use and recognition abilities.

(11/11/12) Field Work Debriefing

            I am going to use today’s blog post to talk about some of my recent experiences in the field, as I was able to teach three lessons this past week and I have a lot on my mind. I taught the same lesson twice on Tuesday to two different classes, and I taught another lesson on Thursday. Both lessons revolved around the study of poems, with Tuesday’s poem being Dylan Thomas’ “Do Not Go Gentle into that Good Night,” and Thursday’s poem being Emily Dickinson’s “Much Madness.” Leading up to these lessons, I was definitely frustrated because my previous teaching experiences had all been a bit of a struggle. I was having issues with classroom management, student engagement, and the majority of my in-class discussions involved only a handful of students speaking and very little whole-class participation. So, leading into Tuesday’s lesson, I worked with Jonathon on some techniques I could use to help lead the class in a more productive manner, with my primary goal being to generate more student discussion. With those techniques in mind, my sixth period class on Tuesday had an incredible discussion that was about as encouraging a classroom experience as I have ever had. The first credit for the discussion must immediately be given to the students, but I was also happy to see that a few techniques I employed had a positive impact on encouraging student engagement.

The first specific adjustment I made this past week was to enter the discussion from the perspective of a participant, as opposed to the more formal role of a “teacher-leader.” I wanted to break down the separation I had felt between the class and myself over the previous weeks, because I thought that my presence as the authority figure was hurting the openness of the discussion. In order to accomplish this, I made the decision to actively participate in the pre-writing portion of the class by writing with the students as they answered the Contemplation Question. I did this for every lesson I taught this week and even when I was teaching the same lesson in back to back classes, I made sure to write a new response in each class so that my participation remained authentic. I think this  successfully revealed to the students that I was a member of the learning community and willing to commit and engage in the learning experience just as fully as the students were. This may seem like a subtle message, but I honestly believe the students recognized my participation and it paid off greatly throughout the discussion. A few times, I was able to volunteer my thoughts in response to student comments, and I did so not solely as the teacher but under my new role as a writer and member of the learning community. I also made sure not to insert myself into the discussion in a way that would represent my ideas as somehow “better” or "more-right" than the students. Instead, I simply offered my response as just another building block stacked on top of the student-generated discussion, and we all built our ideas together.

The second adjustment I made took place before the discussion even began. I told myself as I was writing the lesson plan, that no matter what, I would finally and truly “embrace the silence” of my students when it came to classroom discussions. In the weeks earlier, I felt as if I had been too eager to jump into the discussion if no students were speaking, but this week I simply decided to leave the floor open and be patient in waiting for someone to speak. The beginning of the dialogue was met with the same expected silence, but after a few minutes of awkwardness, a switch flipped and the group came together and really engaged in the discussion. One student comment led into another, and I was able to  facilitate the discussion by simply providing the class with some minimal structure (e.g. occasionally asking students to speak louder or repeat what they had just said). At the peak of the discussion, students were speaking directly to each other and were able to build an idea together. I would guess that out of roughly 23 students in the class, all but 6 or 7 students orally participated and even the students who were quiet the whole time seemed visibly engaged.

The third adjustment that I think promoted the lively discussion had to do with class structure and was totally out of my control (although in my future classroom the set up of the room will be within my control). Because the entire school had testing this past week, the classrooms were arranged in rows with the projector at the front of the class. This was a bit of a surprise when I first walked in, but it actually ended up being a wonderful structure that promoted a community feel. I was able to grab a stool and put it next to the projector up front, and I felt like I was sitting amongst the students instead of sitting in the more removed position within the normal classroom set up. A few times, I would stand up and point to specific words or phrases on the projector screen- and this was my physical cue that I was embodying the “teacher” role for a moment- but then I was able to sit back down and join the discussion as a member once again, with a nice ease of transition.

Overall, the sixth period discussions in both my Tuesday and Thursday classes were extremely encouraging, although the seventh period discussion on Tuesday was met with little success. There is a very complicated classroom atmosphere impacting this particular  class, however, one in which I am struggling to break through. At this point, the larger issues disrupting the environment are out of my immediate control, but I must admit that it has been a powerful learning experience trying to teach in such a difficult setting. I have been able to relate to many of my seventh period students during my conferencing portion of lessons and on an individual basis, but I think the class as a whole is struggling to establish themselves as a community and a “safe space” for honest dialogue.

(11/05/12) I am a Tempered Rebel, Hear Me Roar

            i don’t really feel like bloggin today. Im not sick but some days I just don’t want to have to deal with writing this thing. But anywho, I thought the readings were interesting enough. I didn’t really get the piece about relay writing though. I would be so frustrated with trying to write a relay novel cause other people would keep changing the direction of what I wanted to write, I mean, wtf. I guess the relay compliment activity would be okay cause it never hurts to get complimented, but still I don’t know if it would be a great thing to do in a classroom on a consistent basis. Well, that’s all I can handle writing today. Adios

            Above is my best attempt to position myself as a “tempered rebel” similarly to Evan in the West article we read for this week’s class (West, 2008). I was very interested by the article and I think it shined a positive light on the possibilities of blogging in the classroom, as even posts like mine above “use strategies that English teachers in our school model and expect from their students in terms of literary response in these entries” (West, 2008). It was especially interesting to read this article because we have been blogging this entire semester, and have had to position ourselves within our own online identity. This has probably been my biggest struggle, because I have been unable to really break from my traditional identity as a more formal writer (although I am attempting to do so with this post). Most of my blog posts have been written in a similar form to essays that I write, but I actually think secondary students would have an easier time relaxing their writing within an online community. Adolescents have constant exposure to informal digital authorship, from Facebook to text messaging, and it is increasingly important for modern English teachers to bring these new modes of literacy into the classroom. These less formal genres (including the online blog post) allow students a safer space to really contemplate the reading and curriculum they are encountering, without the constraints of a “formal” paper, and to engage in online literacy communities. As West argues, blog posts allow students to find a way to be both “normative” and “creative” in their writing, which can help engage students beyond traditional writing forms found in English classrooms. Ultimately, the more we can incorporate new literacy practices within the classroom, the more we can engage students in meaningful forms of expression.

(10/25/12) What is a genre? What is genre? What are genres?

Throughout the course of this semester we have established an extremely broad reaching definition of literacy. Literacy demands a flexible definition because the characteristics and influences of literacy impact the lives of our students on a perpetual basis. Unfortunately, the approach to literacy development in English classes across the country is, more often than not, far too rigid. From district mandates to teacher practices, educators attempt to constrain literacy by approaching it mechanically, in order to somehow quantify the literary achievement of students into a measurable unit.

            All five of the multi-genre articles we read for this week’s class revealed the negative implications of what I will refer to as a fixed-literacy approach. Whitney, Ridgeman, and Masquelier explain the limiting issues of this approach, writing “Yet, in practice, teaching genre often becomes ‘teaching genres,’ that is, offering genres to students as preformed, discrete, and rigid vessels into which students’ ideas might be poured. Instead, to teach genre well is to teach students to understand genres in their social functions” (Whitney, 2011). Students need the ability to view genres as a literary tool that has a direct purpose for what and how they are presenting information. In order to do so, students must abandon the traditional constraints of “genre” writing in order to become “real” writers and active members of a “discourse community” (Whitney, 2011). In the Whitney article, students were able to embody these personas as they physically entered nature in order to write as a true “nature writer.” More importantly, the teachers did not stymie their students writing by placing “rigid” limitations on the genre. The article explains, “The students did not list other features sometimes found in nature writing that we teachers had discussed beforehand and had expected to see listed, such as offering social or political critique or including biological or other scientific information. If we had set out to teach genres as discrete forms in a more traditional manner, we might have stepped in here to correct some of these ideas, such as the idea that nature writers are “isolated” in the romanticized sense of a lone writer sitting beneath a tree in silence” (Whitney, 2011). There is no reason to stop a student from including political or social commentary within a nature piece simply because of some imaginary genre boundary, especially when these boundaries act as a limiting influence on students’ ability to express themselves and to engage in open discourse communities. Moreover, in the real world, these imaginary genre boundaries do not exist; a nature author is allowed to bring political critique into his or her writing just as easily as a sports writer is able to talk about social implications without facing punishment. Since literacy is not rigid in the real world, why should it be rigid in schools?

            The articles, especially (Romano, 2000), (Gillepsie, 2005), and (Whitney, 2011) also highlight the potential breakthroughs that can come from productive and creative multi-genre projects. Through the successful multi-genre projects cited, students were able to view genre as a living tool, establish themselves as “real” writers, build audience and genre awareness, engage in multiple forms of literacy (e.g. the map use in Gillipse, 2005), engage with the social functions of genre (e.g. Dean’s use of a “toast” as a genre in Whitney, 2011), and ultimately engage in student generated work that they were proud enough to present to their peers. These types of activities should be embraced in learning communities as a way help students view the structures of literacy not as limiting constraints, but rather as powerful tools available to all writers.

(10/20/12) Literature as a Tool for Social Change

             In Multi-cultural curriculum this semester, we have spent a lot of time discussing how to create “space” for multicultural representation and progress within the constraints of the “traditional” cannon and school curriculum. Although it is a worthy, necessary, and achievable cause to breach such subjects as immigration, inequality, racism, and social injustice within a social studies classroom, I have always felt that there is an amazingly unique space to discuss these topics in an English-Language Arts setting. Because Language Arts teachers do not have to expose these issues explicitly through an historical lens, unlike social studies teachers, English teachers have the ability to use literary texts to open up a safe space for discussion and an avenue for critical literacy.

Boatright emphasizes this point, as he argues specifically in terms of the issue of immigration and its place in class discussion. He writes, “English language arts teachers in the United States have a unique opportunity to seize upon this highly political and fiercely challenged issue by opening up their curricula to the theme of immigration in their classrooms. The world of literature provides one such avenue for exploring immigration issues and their intricately complex social, economic, political, cultural, and historical realities” (Boatright, 2010). “The world of literature” is a wonderful vehicle for progress, because it allows students the freedom and space to view the world through a different lens. When given historical perspectives, students are too often presented with the idea that histories events and current socio-political climates are black and white. Literature, however, does not voice the facts or positions of an issue; it tends to present the human element of an experience in an attempt to add an emotional angle to the overall dialogue. Boatright reveals, “Literature has the potential to ignite dialogue, force questions, and foster community building in an atmosphere of inquiry and reflection” (Boatright, 2010). This dialogue can be extremely powerful when structured around a piece of literature, because the importance of facts and institutions take a back seat to the emotional experience of human beings.

Let’s look at the first graphic novel Boatright cites in his article: The Arrival (Tan 2007). In this story, the reader is presented with the “traditional” immigrant story. By “traditional,” I mean that the story revolves around a white male who is able to emigrate successfully from Western Europe, avoid breaking the law in the process, assimilate himself to American culture, and effectively claim his piece of the “American dream.” This, taken on surface value, does not seem like a vehicle for presenting students with a multi-cultural representation of American immigration. The great quality of literature, however, is that the facts and history of the events do not necessarily constrain the impact or reach of the story. This graphic novel “has the potential to ignite dialogue” because it presents students with a controversial look into what America has always seen as the “good immigrant.” Boatright sees the potential in this piece, writing “English language arts teachers have an excellent opportunity for questioning immigrant experiences that are portrayed as ideal or good and for exploring such immigrant labels as good and bad have come to existence” (Boatright, 2010). These are very significant questions and can lead to powerful student inquiry. As English teachers, we have a unique ability to invite critical inquiry around important and often controversial issues. As we move forward as educators, it is important for literature to be increasingly viewed as a powerful tool for social change.

(10/14/12) "Creating the Confidence to Respond" (Kylene Beers)

If you walk into any elementary school first-grade classroom in the country, as Beers points out in the reading for this weeks class, you are likely to encounter a level of student enthusiasm that is unparalleled by any other grade level of students. Students raise their hands constantly-even if they do not know the answer to the given question, and constantly shout out answers with little self-restraint. The teacher actually has to contain students’ emotions in order to successfully channel their energy into productive learning experiences. So the key question becomes, “Where does that first-grade energy go” (Beers, 259).

In my field-experience so far this semester, I have had the opportunity to interact with high school juniors and to witness their behavior on a consistent basis. Among the forty plus students I encounter spread throughout two classes, I would estimate that about one quarter of the students respond to teacher questions and discussion prompts on a regular basis, with little encouragement necessary. The majority (about half in each class) of the students however, do not speak regularly and only seem to participate in discussions when they are either highly interested in some specific question, when the teacher directly calls on them, or when they feel the need to fill an awkward portion of silence in order to turn the spotlight off of them. That leaves the remaining handful of students (I would say around 8 total) in the category of completely silent. As I was reading the chapters for this week’s class, I began to wonder how many of these remaining 8 students avoid speaking all together simply because of personality traits, or if their silence is related to a larger problem: a lack of confidence. Although I can only hypothesize at this point, I am sure that there are at least a few students that would be more willing to participate if they had the confidence and security to make the risk of speaking “worth it.” Unfortunately, by the time students reach the 11^th grade, if they lack the confidence to respond in class it is likely that they were conditioned for this role over the course of multiple years. These same students may have been the most energetic young first graders in their class, but after a decade of in-class ridicule, embarrassment, shame, and overall fear of failure, the risk of speaking in class is no longer worth any potential reward.

So what can be done? I think the first and most important element to promote student confidence is to build a safe space within the classroom walls. Beers introduces the idea of establishing a “no-tolerance” policy when it comes to disparaging and hurtful between students. Beers writes, “When children are belittled by their peers, something happens that is hurtful almost beyond repair. When it happens in front of an adult, an adult who is supposed to care, and the adult does nothing, then the damage is even greater” (Beers, 266). So I think it is critical to create a relationship of respect between all students in the classroom setting. I also think the teacher is responsible for creating a culture of communication within the classroom. Many of these students have passed from grade to grade over the course of years without ever having to speak. They have become conditioned for silence but a good teacher can create a situation where this habitual silence can finally be broken. It is also important to remember that this process will not take place over night. Luckily teachers are given an entire YEAR to spend with their students, and a lot of progress can be made throughout the course of a school year.

(10/08/2012) Struggling Readers

What does a struggling reader look like? This is the primary question that teachers need to answer in order to then identify struggling readers within classrooms, and ultimately to intervene on their behalf. Although there is no one particular “look” for a struggling teacher, as Kylene Beers establishes in her book, “When Kids Can’t Read What Teachers Can Do,” it is a teacher’s job to recognize the many different signs of a struggling reader in order to then take steps to improve a students reading ability. Beyond that, its is also important for teachers to recognize and appreciate the courage and commitment it takes for a struggling reader to even show up to class on a consistent basis. Beers writes, “I can think of nothing that I do 186 days out of the year, in front of my peers, that I know I will consistently do poorly. Be honest. Can you think of anything you do that qualifies?” (Beers, 6). I think this is a powerful question because the emotions that come with failure impact people of all ages, especially adolescents.

The shame that inevitably comes with consistent failure can be a debilitating emotion, and learning is among the most emotional tasks human beings are faced with. How can a teacher then blame a struggling reader for being disruptive, un-attentive, or ill postured? There is a level of courage it takes for the struggling reader to simply show up 186 days a year conditioned to not only accept regular failure but to have to do so in front of all of his or her peers. If there was an activity where I, even as an adult, had to show up and consistently fail in a room of my peers, I would certainly adapt some disruptive defense mechanisms to best help me “save face.” I would slump in my chair, make jokes, avoid tasks all together, and make it seem like I was exerting no effort, so that these behaviors could then be blamed for my lack of success, not the reality that I simply do not have the strategies in place to perform the task. Beers, however, offers a simple solution: intervene and help the student improve their reading strategies. Unfortunately, not all teachers have the awareness, patience, or ability to recognize and support struggling readers. Beers herself frames this entire book around her failure to impact the literacy life of one of her first students, George, but she uses this failure to drive her commitment to helping improve the reading abilities of struggling students. As we continue to unravel the specific strategies and methods for improving reading throughout this semester, it is continually important to remember that identifying the struggling readers within a classroom is the first and most important step.

(10/01/2012) Promoting Productive Classroom Dialogue

I think one of the biggest insecurities for teachers (especially new teachers) revolves around classroom discussion. In a “good” classroom, all students willingly volunteer their opinions freely, feel comfortable enough to create dissenting opinions, respect each other enough to let everyone speak, avoid the pitfalls of having one or a few students dominate the discussion, and ultimately students are able to generate new and communal ideas as a result. Then why are so many teachers (although maybe I’m just speaking for myself!) so nervous about classroom talk? Well…there is always the fear that no one will speak, students will disrespect each other or the space, and that overall nothing productive will come out of the discussion. It is true that not every classroom dialogue will successfully draw together the student population and involve the entire classroom in creating “shared ideas,” but if an inviting environment is created, an open dialogue can be a truly powerful life-experience for students.

I think the key to creating this open environment is to condition and prepare the students and the classroom for the dialogue using mini-lessons and positive re-enforcement strategies. In order to surrender a portion of classroom control over to your students, a teacher must first prepare the students for this responsibility. There are many techniques for creating an accepting environment for discussion, and mini-lessons seem to be the perfect space to introduce these topics to students. Dr. Bomer recommends a few mini-lesson topics in Chapter 8, including: “Keeping the topic on the table for a long time, making frequent reference to page numbers, making shared notes to record emerging ideas so you can return to them, referring to common experiences, going back to previous topics that connect to this one, referring to past conversations about other books” (Bomer, 148). Another additional idea that he speaks about in the same chapter encourages students to use their informal writing skills in preparation for a discussion. This allows to students to visualize or organize their thoughts before actually promoting them in a classroom setting. Allowing students the skills necessary to engage in productive dialogue, and encouraging/nurturing a productive classroom environment for this dialogue, empowers the students both in the classroom and beyond.”

Ultimately, classroom dialogue is a safe space for students to practice the art of speaking in a non-threatening place. Hopefully the students can then take these skills learned in the classroom and use them in the “real world.” As Dr. Bomer describes it, “Learning to be in dialogue is learning for life, learning to have partners, relationships, and communities” (Bomer, 151). Over the course of my teaching career, I hope to create a safe classroom space for students, aiming to instill students with the confidence to discuss tough topics, to generate shared ideas, to disagree with each other respectfully, and to use the tool of dialogue to further their commitment to their communities and lives outside of the classroom.

(09/23/2012) What makes a reader?

In comparison to all of the readings we have sorted through thus far in the semester, I find the three chapters (4,5, & 6) of Dr. Bomer’s “Building Adolescent Literacy in Today’s English Classrooms” the most practically applicable literature we have encountered to date. Throughout the reading, I found myself consistently referring back to the memory of my own schooling and asking myself to think about how I “learned” to read.  Using the past tense when referring to my reading development is a bit misleading because-as Dr. Bomer explains- “we learn to read again and again across our lives, as we encounter new forms of text and new practices in reading that count in different communities” (Bomer, 77). Thinking back on the beginning stages of my continual reading development, however, serves a very self-revealing purpose.

I have very little memory of my elementary reading experience. In fact, the earliest memories I have of really reading and developing my necessary “reading strategies” are not from school at all, but from home (Bomer, 89). I am the middle son of three boys, and I remember vividly how before bed each night my dad would read aloud to all three of us. One or two chapters at a time, my dad probably read every “Mrs. Piggle Wiggle” book there was, along with countless other books. I would climb onto the top bunk, close my eyes, and  “envision” the books that my dad would read to us (Bomer, 91). I would listen to my dad’s voice, envision the images coming to life in my mind, expect and predict future information, monitor the reading by asking my dad clarifying questions, and ultimately activate the knowledge into a real-world setting (Bomer, ch. 5). As I look back on those experiences now, I realize that my dad (whether fully aware of it or not) was establishing the relationship between “reading” and “thinking” (Bomer, 89).

As I got older, I never doubted this relationship and I became a very active independent reader (as I assume most English majors are!). But more importantly, I viewed reading in a community setting. Yes, the community began very locally (just me and my brothers) but still it was always an experience that was meant to be shared. As I entered the high school ranks, however, reading really became more of a learning task aimed at exposing students to a specific text. We read Shakespeare because we were supposed to read Shakespeare. We read “A Tale of Two Cities” because we were supposed to read “A Tale of Two Cities.” This list goes on, but you get my point. I have little recollection of any significant “student choice” in regards to what we actually read in class. We also approached reading almost exclusively in a “whole-class” setting (Bomer, 85). There was no time given to independent reading within the classroom, there was almost never any small-group or partnered reading tasks, and every new text we read was chosen by the teacher and then assigned to the entire class. We would read a few chapters each night, come in to class in the morning, discuss what we had read, and then repeat the process throughout the entire year. This process definitely bored me and I remember that I always had an outside “reading agenda” to fulfill my desire to read(Bomer, 71). Biographies of famous sports stars and musicians were always my high school favorites, and it was not unusual for me to spend the first half of the night faking my way through a school reading assignment with very little interaction with the text, only to pick up the book that I was reading independently after I finished my homework and then continue to read all night. Shamefully, there was almost a guilt that accompanied this literary experience, because I thought I was engaging in a sort of wasteful reading. Looking back now, however, those nights of independent reading probably had a bigger impact on my overall commitment to furthering my education than anything I ever read in class. They gave me a passion for literature that was independently mine.  I had control over my own literacy and that control led me to college, and now graduate school.

As I progress as a teacher and eventually have my own classroom (I hope at least!) I don’t ever want to forget what my true purpose is as an English and Language Arts teacher. Instead of summing up what that purpose means to me, I will leave you with perhaps my favorite definition of an English teacher’s purpose I have read to date. Dr. Bomer writes, “We [English teachers] want to graduate readers who can give themselves intense experiences of beauty in literary art, who can participate in communities of readers, who can try to improve their own lives and those of others by engaging with texts” (Bomer, 71). I think this is a truly worthy goal.   

(9/14/2012) Local Literacy Practices and their Place in Schools

            It is clear that adolescents register a divide between their in-school literacy practices and their multi-modal out-of-school literacy interests. The average adolescent student raised entirely in the Internet era has achieved a level of fluency in multiple modes of literacy, and students interact with these literary practices on a daily (if not hourly) basis. Social media has shifted the ways in which young people interact with each other, and the “traditional” forms of in-school literacies have failed to acknowledge the out-of-school literary accomplishments of modern school students. This brings about some important questions: What is modern literacy? Who decides what forms of literacy are appropriate for a classroom setting? Who are the schools serving as they promote “traditional” and “one-dimensional” forms of literacy in the classroom? How can we use cultural or local literacy practices to positively impact classroom progress? 

As Margaret Berg describes in her article, “On the Cusp of Cyberspace: Adolescents’ Online Text Use in Conversation,” students that have been raised in the Internet-era approach literacy in a new and transformative way. She writes, “The boundaries between reader and author are further blurred with current teen literacies, because the electronic text can be easily modified by a number of readers or authors through adding words, images, and sound for a broader public appeal” (Berg, 2). This textual accessibility allows current teen literacies to be much more collaborative and inclusive than traditional textual practices of the past. Berg argues (and I agree with her argument) that teachers should further embrace the collaborative cultural literacies of their students in order to more actively engage them in the practices of the classroom.  Berg writes, “In a permeable curriculum, students’ out-of-school literacy practices can permeate the school walls and be marshaled toward classroom achievement, and school-based literacy practices can permeate out-of-school walls to circulate among students’ home and peer groups” (Berg, 2). By incorporating local literacies more openly into the classroom setting, out-of-class conventions can influence the classroom progress of students, and vice versa. Jory Brass writes about the advantages of engaging students’ in their local literacy practices in her article, “Local Knowledge and Digital Movie Composing in an After School Literacy Program.” Throughout the extensive study she presents in her article, she seems to agree with Berg and the idea that “affording students access to their out-of-school literacies can facilitate engagement and academic achievement” (Brass, 6).

Perhaps the most important aspect of engaging students more intentionally in their local literacy practices is that it also opens an avenue to directly connect with students’ interests. Constance Steinekuehler presents a very interesting take on the relationship between video games and literacy, found in the article “Digital Literacies.” The real connection found in her study shows that a student’s interest, (Julio’s) served as a critical motivating factor in his commitment to reading. When a teacher presented reading-material to Julio his reading measured three grade levels below his eighth grade status. When he was given the choice of what to read, however, he managed to successfully read at a twelfth grade level (Steinekuehler, 2). Although he did struggle through some of the material, it was clear that his interest served as the motivating factor that drove him to complete the reading. Although this was an insightful study, the results should not come as a surprise. Students will obviously have more success in schools if they find ways to connect their personal interests to the material being presented in the classroom. As Susan Weinstein argues in her article “A Love for the Thing: The Pleasures of Rap as a Literate Practice,” finding ways to connect learning and pleasure can lead to some serious breakthroughs. She writes, “We know of course, that young people respond to activities in which they can take an active role and connect to their lived experiences and to the cultures of their families and communities” (Weinstein, 11). For this same reason, it seems obvious that ignoring the out-of-school literacy practices of students’ in the classroom, and disallowing students’ the ability to make real-life connections with school material, will directly lead to disengaged and under motivated students.  

Ultimately, these goals presented are all within reach if a teacher makes a genuine effort to build a human relationship with his or her students. Simply listening to a student’s out-of-class interests can open the teacher up to an entirely new avenue for educational interaction and communication. As the modes of literacy continue to develop in the years to come, an innovative breed of teacher is needed to continue engaging students in these new and inclusive forms of literacy.