(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.