The name has been changed, but this is one of the experiences with one of my students that has been sticking with me and from which I draw my "burning" question.
CRITIAL INCIDENT:
“MISSED OPPORTUNITIES”
WRITING AS THERAPY, SELF-HEALING, AND MAKING SENSE OF THE WORLD
FOR: BLUEBONNET WRITING PROJECT
AT: UTA
BY: RENEE COURIER
SEVENTH GRADE LANGUAGE ARTS
JOHN B. HOOD MIDDLE SCHOOL
DALLAS INDEPENDENT SCHOOL DISTRICT
JUNE 18, 2006
As I settled into yet another stack of compositions to grade, (this was 5th period- three down, three to go) I tried to keep my mind on the task at hand and give the same attention to these papers as I had to the ones already graded. A couple of papers into fifth period, I came across Curtis Watson's (not his real name). “Oh man!” I groaned, “Here we go.” My dread stemmed not from the fact that I didn't like to read his papers, as I value any insight into my students I can glean from their compositions, but from my previous experience with Curtis's tenuous grasp on the conventions and mechanics of written English.
Let me tell you about Curtis Watson. He is well-behaved in class, little to no trouble on my part in the classroom discipline arena. Therefore, he sits in row four, desk four, a low profile seat. He is small for his age, but not particularly cute. His head is large in comparison to his body and his teeth strain against their braces to be released from their bondage [these braces would turn out to be the cause of much missed instruction (something Curtis couldn't afford)]. When I spoke with Curtis's mother previously, I forget the occasion now, she was very well-spoken, though a bit unkempt, and she spoke of her efforts at trying to keep him on the right path which would ultimately lead to college. I grimaced now as I thought of this conversation. Judging by the work we had done on conventions and mechanics, Curtis would perpetually be the “I don't get it” kid. No matter how simple and straight-forward the task, Curtis would never quite “get it.” I had little hope, in fact I didn't even dare to hope, that Curtis would ever go to college. I just hoped I could get him to pass the TAKS, and even that hope was dim.
With all of this in mind, I began to read. Our topic was to “Write a composition about a difficult job or chore.” I had already taught the children that they could easily mold the topic to meet their needs. On this topic, before I introduced it, I led an oral brainstorming session on what some of the difficult experiences in life were that a person might experience. Curtis's composition wasn't so wrought with mistakes as to be unreadable, though it still jarred the senses. All worries about the minor issues of conventions fell away as I read.
First, I was thankful that his topic was a good one- something with some real meat in it. We could work with this. My heart began to melt as I read and found out more about this quiet, nondescript boy. I was gripped with a sense of urgency, too, as I read, at all of the missed chances for exploring his thoughts and feelings about this topic through his writing, as well as his missed chances to really examine the issues he faced in relation to his life and all of the implications that carried. “This boy needs to learn how to think on paper,” I thought, as I began to replan tomorrow's lesson plan, specifically around his composition.
Let me give you a quick summary of what Curtis wrote. He told the story of visiting his older brother in prison. His brother was on death row for a murder he claimed wasn't his fault. Of course, the saying goes that they are all “innocent.” It had something to do with some stolen rims (expensive alloy wheels for those of you who are out of “the loop”). He proceeded to tell of his brother's subsequent execution (a gift from the state of Texas), the memorial service afterward at his family's church, and most of all, his family's anger. That was it, really. Nothing else to say. Just the most rudimentary details. He had written less than a page, and really said nothing, when it was so obvious that he needed to say so much. I now understood his mother's urgency at getting him into college in order to keep him from following in his brother's footsteps. With some estimates putting one in three African-American men in jail at some time in their lives, this was, indeed, an urgent situation.
As for the next day in class, I started by having a class discussion on why we need to express our thoughts and feelings in our writing. We talked about everyone's love of gossip, how we can't possibly experience everything in life and so have a need to live vicariously through others, hence, America's love of “reality” shows, etc. I then re-introduced the “Inside-Out T-chart.” We had already begun using it in our writing, but it was not being used consistently, nor properly, by all of my students across the board, and certainly not by Curtis.
This T-chart is a graphic organizer given to the language arts teachers at our campus by our area specialist. I had been using it dutifully in my teaching, though not all of my students had been using it well in their writing process. By reteaching it and focusing on its importance, I was able to get my students to better utilize it to its potential, and their writing improved as a result. (See attached example.)
Daily, I marvel at the resiliency of my students. Curtis's story is not unique. True, I have never encountered a student who had had a family member executed (or at least not one who told or wrote about it), but tragic lives are an everyday occurrence in our part of the world. I have had many, many compositions written about incarcerated or deceased parents, drive-by shootings that have killed friends or family (or nearly themselves), remembering the day their drug-addict mother signed them over to the state, or the day their drug-addict mother went back to jail this last time. I have had students write of finding their mother or father dead. The list could go on and on. What causes me marvel is not their tragedies, as my childhood was not a fairy tale, either, but it is the fact that, for them, this is just another part of life as usual. The fact that they manage to get up and get themselves to school and continue to function like this is just “life as usual” and that they simply don't know any different, amazes me. What concerns me is that I am missing important opportunities to help them be their own form of therapist through their writing. True, the “Inside-Out T-chart” has helped, but this is the only secret weapon I have in my teaching arsenal for this purpose, and, if this is the only weapon I have against the mental turmoil my students face, can I really even call it an arsenal? I know it falls far short in the face of all of the mental and emotional opponents my students face on a daily basis.
OUTSIDE INSIDE
(Here the student outlines the basic events of the (Here the student puts what they were thinking
focus topic below.) and/or feeling during each event.)
The above Outside/inside t-chart is meant to be just that- an T-chart.
Below are my burning question and sub-questions:
Burning question:
How can I increase the meaningful engagement of my students in their writing by getting them to use it as a tool for forming thoughts and dealing with feelings, as a means of self-reflection and healing, and as a means of making sense out of a confusing world and difficult situations.
Tired of typing. Sub-quesitons will follow
--Renee Courier
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