RAMPing Up the Rigor

Kids need to write, right?

They’re not going to get better at it if they don’t do it. Frequently. In every class.

You may be thinking to yourself, “But I’m not a writing teacher. I wasn’t taught how to teach writing. I’m not a confident writer myself. How can I possibly teach my students how to write?”

Relax a moment. I know that if you’ve read this far, you know how to read. You probably have even identified that I used a few sentence fragments in the preceding paragraphs, and you may or may not have been comfortable with my decision to do so. But since I know you know how to read, I also know that you can read a student’s writing and tell whether it makes sense and whether it says something. That’s the first step--and the most important one--to becoming a teacher whose students write.

I’m not asking you to become a writing teacher if you’re not one already and if the class you teach doesn’t require it. What I am asking is that, no matter what you teach, you ask your students to write.   

To help you make this happen, I’m going to clue you in on a little tip, an acronym many English teachers use that will jumpstart your ability to design interesting and rigorous writing: RAMP.  

RAMP stands for Role, Audience, Mode, and Purpose. These are four elements students can identify for themselves when they are dissecting a writing prompt:

Role: What persona or perspective am I adopting as a writer?  

Audience:  To whom or for whom am I writing?

Mode: What type of writing am I being asked to do (category and genre/format)? Probable types include narrative, expository, and persuasive.

Purpose:  Why am I writing this?

As I mentioned above, many teachers use this to help students determine what they’re supposed to do in response to a writing prompt. Decisions regarding word choice, degree of formality, organization, and content relate directly to the four elements of RAMP. I’m going to write in a different style if I’m writing a formal lab report for publication in a chemistry journal than I am if I compose a text message to a friend to find out about his date last Saturday.

Not only can RAMP be useful to students, but RAMP can come in handy for teachers who are trying to create more interesting real-world writing assignments for their students. Asking students to adopt different roles and to write for varied purposes not only can make writing more fun but also “ramp up” the rigor in writing assignments.

Here are some deconstructed writing prompt samples to help you see how easy (and perhaps even fun) creating writing activities using RAMP can be.

An old-school, boring essay topic:

Write an essay about the themes in Moby Dick. Select three themes, and support each with evidence from the novel.

            ROLE:  A student

            AUDIENCE: The bored English teacher

            MODE:  Expository/literary analysis

            PURPOSE: To inform and explain

A more exciting Moby Dick essay (spoiler alert):

You are the psychiatrist treating Ishmael as the lone survivor of the Pequod's sinking. Since the patient refuses to speak, you have only his manuscript (the novel Moby Dick) to use to diagnose him and recommend a treatment. Using the evidence, write a report to the hospital’s Board of Governors about your patient detailing the nature of the trauma, the effect on Ishmael, and your plan for treatment.

            ROLE: Hospital psychiatrist

            AUDIENCE: The hospital’s Board of Directors

            MODE: Expository/analytical

   PURPOSE: To analyze Ishmael’s character and what mental or emotional support or treatment he may need.

Something for the historians:

You are an educated woman in England in the 1790s who has just read Mary Wollstonecraft’s Vindication of the Rights of Women. Inspired by what she has said, you decide to send in an anonymous editorial to the local newspaper about your reactions to the essay, but you know that a letter from a woman will be ignored. Write your editorial as if a man wrote it, but still try to get your points across. Make specific reference to Wollstonecraft’s ideas in your editorial.

ROLE: A British woman in the 1790s pretending to be a man

AUDIENCE: The editors and readers of the local newspaper

MODE: Argumentative

PURPOSE: To persuade readers that your thoughts, reactions, and opinions are correct.   

American history from an offbeat perspective:

As a termite gnawing on the table on which the Declaration of Independence was signed, you had the chance to witness the event firsthand and overhear the comments of those who signed it. Write a letter to your British cousin giving your account of what happened that day, including what you heard from the signers about their excitement, concerns, and hopes.

            ROLE: Eavesdropping termite

            AUDIENCE: A British relative overseas

            MODE: Narrative letter

            PURPOSE: To summarize what you heard and viewpoints of the signers

To explain a scientific concept in simplest terms:

Write a children’s book to explain mitosis to a third grader in an interesting, entertaining, educational way. You may illustrate your book.

            ROLE:  Yourself (a brainy science student)

            AUDIENCE: A third grader who could care less about cell division

            MODE: Expository/informational (may also be narrative)

   PURPOSE: To explain mitosis in a way a third grader would understand

Bringing science to the real world:

You have recently become aware that neighbors have been using a nearby field as a dumping ground for their household trash and are concerned about the effect this might have on the wooded area and creekbed nearby. Write a letter to the City Council expressing your concerns and asking them to take measures to halt this potentially dangerous hazard to the ecosystem.

            ROLE: A concerned citizen

            AUDIENCE:  City Council

            MODE: Persuasive letter

            PURPOSE: To expose a biohazard and stop further damage

           

Writing in math can be fun, too:

Write a love letter from the Pythagorean Theorem to pi.

            ROLE: The amorous Pythagorean Theorem

            AUDIENCE: 3.14159265359…

            MODE: Personal/love letter

            PURPOSE: To declare your undying love and admiration

Let’s not forget the performing arts:

You are a critic from an entertainment magazine who attended last night’s choir concert. Write a review so that your readers who didn’t attend will know what they missed and what you--the expert music critic--thought of the performance. Your readers will appreciate lively writing and vivid details in your critique.

ROLE: Music critic

AUDIENCE: The readers of your magazine

MODE: Expository/arts review

PURPOSE: To critique the performance and provide details for readers who weren’t there.

Something cross curricular and controversial:

You, Karl Marx, have recently completed your Communist Manifesto and are looking for the perfect cover art for the paperback edition of your book. Consider the artists who are working around this time, and select one whom you think will be the best candidate to create an appropriate artwork to showcase your ideas. Write a letter to that artist telling him about your ideas and convincing him or her to create an artwork for your cover.

ROLE: Karl Marx

AUDIENCE: A 19th century artist of your choice

MODE: Persuasive letter

PURPOSE: To convince the artist to design a book cover

_______________________________________________________

It’s relatively easy to come up with a writing activity with a little creativity and the assistance of RAMP to help you sort things out. I encourage you to give it a try. You don’t have to grade for spelling or grammar; in this type of writing, the content and understanding are most important. That’s the key to Writing to Learn.

Thanks for giving your students a writing workout once in a while. 

Yoga Teachers Understand Differentiation Better Than I Do

I’ve been thinking about differentiation quite a bit lately. Sometimes, I even think about it when I’m not supposed to--in my yoga class last week, for instance.

I understand that while I am in the midst of my yoga practice I am supposed to be focusing on my breath and allowing my mind to be an empty slate, but since I had spent a considerable amount of time that week talking about differentiated instruction with teachers, pedagogical thoughts kept interrupting my asanas.

Secondary teachers, in particular, often struggle with differentiation. Our colleagues in the elementary schools get it. It’s not uncommon to observe students in an elementary classroom learning at various paces and working on individualized learning trajectories independently or in small groups. At the middle school and high school levels, however, the idea of planning instruction that is responsive to varied levels of academic readiness and ability in one classroom causes some consternation among even the most accomplished teachers.

Unfortunately, there’s not a simple recipe for differentiation. There is no step-by-step process we can easily plug into any educational situation and--voila!--our lesson is differentiated. There are, however, some basic principles that govern many differentiated instruction scenarios.

During my yoga class last week, I realized that my yoga instructor, Nicole, understands those principles and practices them much more skillfully than I.  

Have a clear idea of the goal for the class session. Nicole always has a clear plan in place, a goal for each yoga session. Perhaps it’s a hip-opening class, or maybe we are working on shoulders. Whatever the goal, Nicole has designed a series of poses that will help all the students in the class reach it. In our own classrooms, this translates into having a clear purpose or objective in mind. All students are working toward the same objective, and the teacher has carefully constructed lesson plans and activities to allow the students to reach that end goal. Depending on their readiness, students will take varied paths to reach the goal, and some will make some extra stops along the way to examine the journey in greater depth, but they’re all headed to the same place.  

Assess students’ needs and abilities. As the room fills up before the yoga class, our instructor meets the newbies, introduces herself, and asks if they have any injuries or issues she needs to know about. During the class, she’s been known to shout out, “Those of you with knee issues might want to use a blanket here,” or a similar warning. She knows that I’ve been having problems with my right Achilles’ tendon, so she will offer me tips on how to do certain poses to avoid exacerbating the injury. She knows who’s a beginner and who’s experienced, and she alters her vocabulary and terminology to suit her audience. Because she is aware that we all show up with different levels of experience and bodies that each perform differently, Nicole works hard to know her participants and adjust her plans to help all succeed. Classroom teachers can learn from this example. Before planning and implementing differentiation, we first need to become aware of our students’ strengths and potential growth areas. We can’t meet needs unless we know what the needs are.   

Allow students to set goals for their own learning. As yoga class begins, we sit on our mats and pause a moment to set an intention for the class. Each of us reflects on a goal--mental or physical--to help focus our practice. Allowing our students to set some goals for themselves is a great way to help them focus their learning and measure their achievement.

Provide support for students who are struggling. My hamstrings are chronically tight. Forward bends are tough to execute fully. Sometimes, I stand there sadly with arms dangling six inches away from the floor when I’m asked to bend forward and put my hands on the ground.  Fortunately, our yoga studio comes equipped with foam and cork blocks, cloth straps, specially-designed yoga chairs, and piles of blankets that can be used as props to assist us during class. When she’s leading class, Nicole will often suggest modifications to help the less bendy students get the benefit from particular poses. In my case, I might use a block to “raise” the floor several inches so I can reach it. In our classrooms, teachers do the same thing. We use scaffolding to help students access the content at an appropriately challenging level. Sometimes, we are required by law to make accommodations and modifications for students, but at other times we see a need and address it with an instructional adjustment that gives that student the necessary support. Once the student can handle it on his or her own, we remove the support.     

Allow students to work at their own pace.  There comes a time in nearly every class when we do a number of sun salutations. For those of you unfamiliar, a sun salutation is a series of poses that almost always involves some combination of a downward dog pose, an upward-facing dog, a chaturanga (which is like the lowering part of a pushup and which can be done at varying speeds and at varying heights, stopping at painful points midway to elongate the pain), and other add-ons like leg lifts, hops, or warrior poses. At some point during the sun salutation fun, Nicole will invite us to proceed at our own pace rather than following her verbal cues. This allows the yogis to pace themselves, to add extra flourishes or challenges, or to rest, if needed. During the time allotted for this, some opt to zoom through many salutations while others slow it down and savor the moment. Still others retreat to the safety of child’s pose to recuperate for a few minutes. This is the essence of differentiation: every student working to the best of his or her ability at his or her own pace. We don’t do it for the entire lesson (because then most of us would not be learning anything), but Nicole carves out the appropriate time for this so that all participants in her class get a good workout.

Offer opportunities for exploring the material with greater depth and complexity. We were in some kind of twisty knot pose. Nicole informed us that this was the perfect opportunity for the more advanced students to try a bind, that is, to reach one arm beneath an outstretched leg and join it with another arm that has been wrapped behind the back. Later, we were on the floor doing a forward fold of some sort, and Nicole invited us--if we wished--to tip forward onto our hands, kick our legs out to the side, and attempt an arm balance. Finally, we were given the option to move into a headstand if we were into that sort of thing. Several took Nicole up on her offer each time. I did my best to join my hands in the bind and successfully stood on my head; the arm balance is something I’ve yet to master. Those who chose to stay in the base poses weren’t shamed in any way, but the advanced students were given the opportunity to excel. That, again, is what differentiation is all about.

Don’t make assumptions about abilities. I once walked into another teacher’s class, and she greeted me by saying, “You’re probably going to have a hard time in this class.” She was partly right, but she didn’t know that I was a fairly regular yoga practitioner who could handle most of what she was dishing out. She made me feel largely unwelcome, and I never went back to her class because she made it clear from the start that she wasn’t planning to meet me wherever I was when I walked into the studio.  Nicole doesn’t do that; she welcomes everyone and helps them to feel successful when they take her class. That’s what differentiation is all about: making everyone welcome and helping them feel successful. Furthermore, not every athlete is a brilliant yoga student. Ask the guy who left after ten minutes of class the other night. Similarly, not every student with a label performs according to that label in all situations. A "gifted" student may struggle in your class even more than a student not bearing that designation. Observe their performance, notice their capabilities, and make your differentiation decisions accordingly. 

Push students to go as far as they are capable. As weird is it may sound, Nicole’s yoga class has a safety word. She tells us that yoga, like any high-risk activity, should have a word to let her know when she’s pushed us too far. So if she tries to stretch me further than my body can go, I know that I can scream out, “Crockpot,” and she will back off. She doesn’t assume we can’t do it, and she lets us stretch to our maximum capacity. The same is true in our classrooms; we should let each student soar to his or her maximum capacity and then realize we’ve taken them as far as they can go.

Make the class a safe place to take risks. Crow pose is scary. It requires you to crouch forward, put your knees on your elbows, and balance. There’s a chance you’ll topple forward and all flat on your nose. But Nicole takes some of the fear out of it and encourages us to play around. A time or two, I’ve actually been able to balance for a few seconds. By making our classrooms safe places for our students to push themselves to their  maximum capacities without a risk of looking stupid or failing completely, we achieve unexpected results.   

Offer Choices.  Throughout my yoga class, I’m given choices about what I want to do next. That’s the hallmark of a well-differentiated class. We offer our students options about how they can demonstrate understanding of our objectives. More often than not, the more capable students will select the more challenging--and therefore more interesting--route.

Debrief as an entire class. The differentiated yoga class didn’t look the same for every participant. Some put their legs behind their heads while others of us attempted a modified pigeon pose instead. Regardless of what our paths looked like during the class, we end the journey in the same pose as we pause together to reflect back on the intention we set at the beginning of the session. Nicole will offer some words of wisdom about what we worked on, where we might be headed in future classes, what we might practice on our own at home, and how we need to make sure to drink lots of water that evening to rinse away all the toxins we stirred up. In the same way, a successfully differentiated lesson in class should conclude in a place that allows all students to debrief together. Since everyone worked on the same thing--albeit in different ways--all are prepared to talk about what they learned and whether they met the stated objective.

We can all learn something from the common practices in my yoga class. Though it’s not necessarily easier than forcing everyone to march to the same drummer throughout the class period, providing options for differentiation will help every student engage to his or her fullest potential and will make our classes more interesting and effective than what we were doing before. I challenge you to make that happen.

Namaste.     


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If you want to know more about my yoga teacher, Nicole Payseur, visit her website. She's always got some wisdom to share.

Socratic Seminar FAQs

Conducting your first Socratic Seminar can be a scary endeavor.  Like the first time you tried to clear a hurdle in track, play a piano sonata, cook a soufflé, program a VCR (remember those?), fold a fitted sheet, stand in the tree pose in yoga, or knit a scarf, there’s always potential for disaster and room for improvement.  I’ve assembled a few Frequently Asked Questions about Socratic Seminars to help ease you into the idea and encourage you to try this with your students soon!

Q.  What’s a Socratic Seminar?

A. Good question! I’ll give you the short answer and let you do some exploring on your own if you want to know more. A Socratic Seminar is a student-led discussion—usually about a text—with the goal of deepening the collective understanding of the participants. It gets its name from Socrates, the Greek philosopher who was put to death for corrupting the minds of Athenian youth by making them think. Socrates also asked questions, which is something students do during the seminar; they question the text and one another to explore the topic more deeply. Typical Socratic Seminars take place with the class in one giant circle, but variations exist, such as the Fishbowl (two concentric circles), Pilot-Copilot Formation (discussed later), and several smaller Socratic Seminars simultaneously taking place in one classroom. It’s important to distinguish the Socratic Seminar from a debate; there are no sides, and this isn’t a place for arguing. Cheesy as it sounds, everyone’s a winner in a Socratic Seminar if they come out knowing more than they did before they began.

Q.  What do I do with students who are shy or don’t have anything to say?

A.  Ideally, all students will participate in the discussion.  In reality, some students are terrified to share their ideas with others or to speak aloud in class.  The first solution is to do whatever you can to make sure your classroom is a supportive environment where all students feel safe contributing.  Another is to make sure students are prepared prior to the Socratic Seminar.  Spend some time with the text, giving the students clear guidelines for annotation and text marking.  Have them prepare questions ahead of time.  The more familiar they are with the piece, the more likely they will be to contribute.  When selecting a format for your Socratic Seminar, consider a Pilot-Copilot formation, which allows all students to participate as you pause to have each “cockpit crew” chat with one another about the topic at various times during the discussion.  Also, selecting an engaging text will encourage students to speak up because they’ll have an opinion and will want to be heard.  Giving students a chance to do a brief reflection or exit card at the end of the seminar will allow a reluctant student to share his or her ideas with you; if you talk individually with that student later and praise the ideas, you’ll build some confidence that may result in participation next time. 

Q.  Do I have to grade the Socratic Seminar?

A.  No.  I am a big advocate for reinforcing learning for the sake of learning.  When you ramp up the pressure by grading the number and/or quality of students’ participation, you’ll find that you lose the collaborative nature of the Socratic Seminar.  Students will quit listening to one another and will think only of themselves and their grade.  You know your students have missed the point of the Socratic Seminar when they rush up to you after class with a look of desperation to ask whether they spoke enough times and what grade they made.  Also, if you don’t have to worry about tracking and assessing comments for every student in the discussion, you can enjoy and appreciate the discussion yourself—it’s much more rewarding for everyone involved. 

     

Q.  If I don't grade the discussion as you suggested, then how do I keep the kids accountable?

A.  If you must attach a grade to the seminar, consider grading their pre-work (text marking and question preparation) and a reflection they complete after the seminar.  The post-discussion reflection could contain thoughts about the content of the discussion, the quality of the discussion itself, areas for improvement in the future, comments that the student was unable to make during the discussion, or whatever you deem important.  Participation can be a factor in your grade, but also consider adherence to the norms of discussion, nonverbal behavior, and other factors.   

Q.  I teach _____, and my kids won’t ever be able to do a Socratic Seminar because…

A.  You're right.  As long as you believe your kids won't be able to do it, they probably won’t.  But if you change your mind, I can tell you that Socratic Seminar works with all subjects and all levels of kids.  The level of student talk may not always rise to your standard of excellence at first, but with some coaching, practice, and debriefing, they'll improve.  If your students need more scaffolding, consider providing them with some discussion starter stems, possible ways to begin a comment in an academic discussion.  Spend some time afterward praising the things your students did well.  Offer tips and specific targets for improvement before each Socratic Seminar.  When Socratic Seminars become something you do frequently rather than just being a one-time special occasion event, you'll find that the students love them and will begin to talk like scholars.  (Oh, and, by the way, your question wasn't a question.)

Q.  Does the Socratic Seminar have to be a culminating activity at the end of a unit?

A.  Not at all.  This is a great way to have students examine a text or other material in detail before a writing assignment or activity.  I have a colleague in social studies who has her students participate in a Socratic Seminar to discuss a set of documents prior to writing an AP document-based question (DBQ).  This kind of discussion can ensure the students have thought about all aspects of a poem or short story before writing an essay on it in a literature class.  If you become accustomed to the idea of a Socratic Seminar’s purpose being to help the group come to a deeper shared understanding of the meaning of something, it’s logical to use this strategy at various points in a lesson cycle.  I find they're even useful as a preparatory activity for a unit to build anticipation and interest (like the time I brought in the world’s most hideous vase—four feet tall, chartreuse, fuzzy velour—and had a discussion about how we determine whether something is art).   

Q. What kinds of works are suitable to discuss in a Socratic Seminar?

A.  You name it, and it can probably be discussed.  I've seen (or heard people tell of) successful seminars over films, artworks, political cartoons, novels, documentaries, political debates, television commercials, videos of a sports competition, websites, math problems, sets of statistics, maps, editorials, poems, plays, websites, musical performances, songs, music videos, and short stories.       

Q.  What’s the biggest mistake you've made with Socratic Seminars?

A.  My students were reading the 59-chapter, 450-page opus Great Expectations by Charles Dickens, and we had—as a culminating assessment—a Socratic Seminar over the entire novel.  Our great expectation was that students answered one another’s questions while supplying relevant textual evidence from the novel (ie. direct quotations).  I spent a painful 90-minute block schedule period watching my hapless students dig desperately through that giant book they'd (allegedly) read once to find a quote to back up their ideas.  The pressure was immense, and only a few students with prodigious memories or incredible annotation skills emerged from the great quotation hunt unscathed.  The tension was palpable; tears were shed. I learned from that experience that choosing a text of a more manageable size allows everyone to be (literally) on the same page and participate in the discussion at a deeper, more thoughtful level.      

Q.  Do you have any final bits of advice?

A. Leave time to debrief the discussion and the process.  Allow students to talk about what flew and what flopped.  If you used an inner-outer circle (fishbowl) arrangement, solicit feedback from those in the outer circle about what went well and how things could have been better.  And even if your first Socratic Seminar is a disaster, try it again.  Let go of the reins and let the students talk.  You'll be surprised at how brilliant they can be.   

If you let them, they will talk…and they will say smart things. 

A Discouraging Word

            Home, home on the range

            Where the deer and the antelope play,

            Where seldom is heard a discouraging word,

            And the skies are not cloudy all day.

The range must have been a pretty happy place. Not only did the deer and antelope want to be there, but they also wanted to play. It felt like home.

 

Can the same be said about our classrooms?

It is so easy to notice the negative. I’m the worst.

I can read a wonderfully written essay and become fixated on one fairly insignificant comma error. I will sit through an exciting and engaging concert and come away thinking, “If only they hadn’t chosen that song as their encore. . . .” The one item out of place on an otherwise tidy kitchen counter makes me feel like the entire house is a mess. And that kid in the third row who is staring off into space while all the other students are reading makes me a little bit insane.

For most teachers, it’s so much easier to notice the students who are not meeting expectations than it is to notice the ones who are.

When we notice the negative, we often feel compelled to correct it. Once we start, it’s hard to stop. Our class becomes a dysfunctional family, and we are the nagging parent:

“I told you yesterday to bring your textbook. Why did none of you remember?”

“You don’t have a pen? What did you think we were going to do today, just sit here and do nothing?”

“What part of ‘Be quiet!’ was confusing?”

“You didn’t bring your homework again? You need to learn to meet deadlines and follow through. The real world has deadlines.”

“If you don’t start working and paying attention, you’re going to find yourself in summer school or taking this class again next year. And let me assure you, we don’t change it up and make it more interesting for those who come back a second time.”

“Stop. Talking.”

“You know where notebooks are stored. You’re not new. Go get yours. You’re holding up the entire class.”

“I’m waiting….”

“Susan, turn around and pay attention. Joel, we are on page 147. Get out your books, everyone. I don’t want to have to tell you again. Lisa, stop talking! Page 147, Jennifer! Michael, this is not gym class. Sit down!”

The discouraging words fly with such velocity and frequency that no deer, antelope, or human would want to spend time in this maelstrom of negativity.

It’s so easy to slip into the routine of letting the toxic negativity spew. This kind of negativity, unfortunately, permeates the lives of many of our students. They hear it at home; they hear it from peers; and then they get to hear it at school. Some of them have learned to tune it out. Others let it beat them into submission. No one thrives in its presence.

Some researchers believe that the human brain responds to negativity and criticism by shutting down. The “fight-or-flight” impulses of the amygdala take over, and the brain enters into a self-preservation mode during which no learning occurs. We can all think of times where criticism or negativity has affected us to such an extent that we could focus on little else. Teachers’ well-intentioned efforts to correct negative behaviors may be blocking student learning.  

Pay attention to the negative and positive comments you make in class. Perhaps you can record a class and count the interactions, noting the ratio of negative to positive interactions. Or ask a colleague or instructional coach to visit your class and tally them for you. If you’re like many teachers, the negative will outweigh the positive in a big way.

Once you notice that you’ve fallen into the rut of pointing out the bad, you can take steps to change your own negative behaviors. It’s time to become a celebrator of the good.

In his book High-Impact Instruction, Jim Knight devotes an entire chapter to becoming a “witness to the good.” He writes,

We are a witness to the good when we are attentive and intentional about noticing everything our students do--not just the misbehavior. We are being a witness to the good when we are especially attentive to the times when students are making the best of learning opportunities. We are being a witness to the good whenever we recognize and encourage students for acting in ways that are consistent with expectations. (316)

Becoming a witness to the good helps build connection with your students. Students who feel this bond of attachment, loyalty, and comfort will be more willing to do what you ask them to do in your classroom.

Praise should significantly outweigh criticism. Some experts recommend a six-to-one praise-to-correction ratio; some even advocate for more positive comments than that.

The type of praise matters, too. Praise can actually be harmful or counter-productive if students perceive that it’s insincere or hollow. One of the best ways to give productive praise is to make your comments descriptive rather than attributive. Praise students’ work, efforts, and behaviors rather than their traits and characteristics. Instead of saying, “You are such a kind person,” consider telling a student, “People seem to respond favorably to you,” or, “The words you use to speak to your classmates are very respectful.”  Telling a student that she is smart is less helpful than telling her that her thinking shows depth, that her analysis is specific and thoughtful, or that she understands the material and is able to think about it in a complex way. Thanking a student for having his materials on his desk will have more impact than giving negative attention to his neighbor for not being prepared.

Using praise effectively--becoming a witness to the good--can reduce classroom management issues while simultaneously transforming your classroom into a happy oasis of learning for the students...and any stray deer or antelope that might wander in. 

Thank you for keeping it positive and squelching the discouraging words.