Showing posts with label literature. Show all posts
Showing posts with label literature. Show all posts

Friday, December 17, 2010

Important lessons learned from literature

Any plan that involves faking your own death is a bad plan.

Also, any plan that involves losing your hat is a bad plan. (Can't find the exact reference right now.  It's from Girl Genius.  Yes, it's steampunk.  Yes, I know what I said about steampunk.  Yes, I've read the whole thing.  Sue me.)

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Lots to read

Right.  I've started re-reading I read it, but I don't get it by Tovani.  My summary of the first couple of chapters will be up...erm, as soon as I finish reading the first  couple of chapters.  Chapter 1 is in deceptively simple storytelling form, so I'm not sure I caught the lessons from it.

Also, my textbooks came in.  I'll be taking a course in elementary Spanish methodology from a private college, starting in a few weeks.  As it happens, the two textbooks for the class are books I've written about here before--Languages and children, 4th ed., by Curtain and Dahlberg, and Teacher's handbook, 4th ed., by Shrum and Glisan.  So hopefully I'll have a chance to at least start reading those before the school year starts.

I'm writing syllabi for my new classes, although I'm still not certain which levels of English (or, for that matter, Spanish) I'll be teaching.  The grading policy should be about the same for each class, unless the district has a grading policy I don't know about.  And I'm VERY excited--I think I finally have a workable portfolio outline, something that my students can start working on from Day One.

And every teachers' website on the Internet is firing up with "Good first day of school" posts, and I've been trying to catch as many of them as possible.  Below are a few, so I can close the blessed tabs, along with a few words of take-away for each.

Using literature the first weeks of school.  From Elena Aguilar at Edutopia, a few books that a middle school teacher can use to set the tone for reading and community-building from Day 1.  She suggests Seedfolks, by Fleischman, The house on Mango Street by Cisneros, and The library card by Spinelli.  I can definitely use Mango Street; Aguilar even suggests a few ways to do it.


Start of the year routine and handouts.  Some typically excellent suggestions from the always-excellent Heather Wolpert-Gawron.  Random seating chart; beginning-of-the-year handouts; Find-a-Fib activities (X true things, 1 false things, you guess the false things); creating Works in Progress and Portfolio folders; a sample of content; and introductions to class-specific elements, like websites and positions.  I do a lot of these things already, so it's good to see them confirmed by somebody I have a great deal of respect for.


The best kind of teacher evaluation--Larry Ferlazzo writes about how to evaluate teachers the right way.  Regular observations by people who know the teachers, the students, the school, and what good teaching looks like; multiple sources of data; regular feedback from students and parents; and self-reflection.  This enforces the idea of collaborating to improve student achievement, and helps teacher leaders to know what areas need improving.  It sure beats blaming teachers for rotten test scores.  Ferlazzo also has his own blog: larryferlazzo.edublogs.org/

Monday, January 26, 2009

Couldn't have happened to an apparently nicer fellow

The ALA announced its award winners for 2009. Neil Gaiman (may the winds of inspiration ever fill his lungs!), my favorite fiction author still drawing breath, has won the Newberry medal for 2009, for The Graveyard Book.

My heart leaped for joy at the news. I enjoy his writing a great deal, and thought that The Graveyard Book had a particularly smoky flavor. And I know I'm in good company. It's like being a fan of some sport that has an annual contest, a giant affair in which many thousands of people gather to watch the best in the sport compete. And deep inside, the fan knows that the outcome doesn't really matter, because s/he gets to watch the greatest. But when the fan's chosen team wins unexpectedly, the fan feels part of something greater than him/herself, even though s/he had absolutely nothing to do with any of it. (If I could have thought of any sport that had some kind of annual contest, a "Super Fest" or a "World Prize" or something, this metaphor would have worked out a lot more smoothly. A little help, sports fans?)

I haven't read EVERYTHING Gaiman's ever written, but it's a close call. Some of the older comic books, the occasional children's book, probably an introduction here or there. I read his blog a lot. It gives me an artificially close sensation to him--a man I've never met, a man I'd recognize and leave alone if I saw him in a coffee shop so as not to disturb his coffee-shop experience, seems like a friend of mine. And from everything I can glean from his public face (which occasionally includes blog posts under duress, probably a test of character of some kind), he seems like a nice guy. So, it couldn't have happened to an apparently nicer fellow.

Congratulations, Mr. Gaiman.