What If Every Student Wrote in Every Class Every Day?

Sometimes I like to dream big dreams. I revel in “What if?” scenarios. What if everyone on the planet got along? What if teachers got paid according to how difficult their job actually is? What if I had a dollar for every time a kid asked to borrow a pencil and then didn’t return it?

Lately, I’ve been thinking about what might happen in schools if every student wrote every day in every class. I know. It’s a crazy idea. But, as I said, I like to dream big dreams. If teachers in all subject areas—math, science, social studies, English, fine arts, LOTE, physical education, career and technical education—made it their mission to insert just a little bit of writing into their daily lesson plans, the results would be astonishing.

If every student wrote every day in every class, here’s what might happen:

Students would become more confident writers. Writing— like most things that are worth doing well—takes practice, and the more you do it, the better you get. Students don’t have to write formal papers (which, let’s face it, should be special-occasion experiences) in order to improve as writers. Quickwrites, short answers, explanatory paragraphs, summaries, and letters to the teacher (or other students) are all ways of practicing writing within academic disciplines. The simple act of stringing words together to make sentences and adding additional sentences until something emerges that makes sense builds confidence and self-efficacy.

Teachers would have a better idea of what students know and don’t know. Asking students to explain something in writing gives a glimpse into their understanding in a way that is more complete and nuanced than a multiple choice question or thumbs-up/thumbs-down or fist-to-five physical response. Writing is an easy-to-implement formative assessment tool at any point in the lesson cycle. Having students write what they already know about a topic prior to instruction can give teachers an idea of where to begin teaching the entire class or which students will need differentiation, either enrichment or remediation. Pausing mid-lesson to allow students to explain how they reached a solution or solved a problem can provide insight into their thought processes and help the teacher diagnose gaps in understanding. An exit ticket summarizing the day’s essential question on a notecard provides instantaneous feedback about whether students “got it” so teachers will know whether to move on or revisit the concept tomorrow.

Blank pages and blank stares would become things of the past. Like a car that’s been sitting undriven for a few months, many student writers have trouble getting started when they are asked to write. Once students start writing every day in every class, their batteries remain fully charged, and the ideas emerge much more readily. This is especially true when frequent writing activities are low-stakes, ones in which getting ideas down on paper doesn’t come with the “gotcha” of a grade attached. Writing in a fearful state is paralyzing. Writing (sans pressure) to explore what you think about a topic is freeing. Not every idea that comes out of your pen (or shows up on your screen) is going to be brilliant, but putting ideas into the world every day increases the odds that you’ll produce something worth saying.

Classroom conversations would be better. Writing before talking helps us generate ideas and clarify our thinking. How often, before a difficult conversation, do we write out and rehearse what we have to say to increase the chances of it coming out as intended? Similarly, allowing students to write a response to a question before a classroom discussion has several advantages. First, it provides every student a chance to wrestle with the thinking instead of sitting back and waiting for the loudmouth in the room to answer the question orally, freeing them from any obligation to think for themselves. Second, it gives students a chance to try out their ideas, to have some “think time,” and to organize their response before being asked to share it aloud. Whether or not the student is called on to respond, the student has done some thinking, and that’s what’s most important in an educational setting.

The quality of student writing would improve, which means, among other things, that writing test scores would increase. The more you write, the better you write. If you write every day, throughout the day, you’re bound to get better. Instead of complaining that “these kids can’t write” and focusing on inadequacies, teachers should consider providing numerous opportunities for writing and offering encouragement to reinforce what’s good. Praise-hungry students will latch onto the traits that receive positive feedback, and, eventually, their writing will get better. When the quality and quantity of student writing improves and anxiety about writing withers, the writing they’re asked to produce on-demand for standardized tests will seem less daunting. It’s just another thing we’re asked to write, right? No big deal. What will be a big deal is the amount of time educators can spend focusing on exploring meaningful content rather than tedious test preparation.  

The school will develop a culture of literacy. Where the written word is valued, learning thrives. When students see that all teachers—not just the English teachers—care about writing, they’ll care more, too. Soon, you’ll hear discussions about what writing looks like in various content areas, how writing in science looks different than writing in social studies or English. Disciplinary literacy will shape students to become more thoughtful, purposeful writers and more curious readers. Students will write for real-world audiences and will be eager to let their powerful voices be heard. Building a culture of literacy sets all students up for real-world success in whatever the future holds for them because those who can read perceptively and write with precision have the power to influence others, to get what they want, and to achieve whatever they dream.   

Teachers would spend more time grading. Wait! That’s not true. The kind of writing I’m talking about is mostly ungraded and doesn’t require out-of-class teacher feedback. When students write daily in school, they’re mostly engaging in writing to learn (also known as learning through writing), which is about acquiring the knowledge and skills, not being assessed as right or wrong. It’s more about doing the writing (and the associated thinking) rather than receiving a reward for correctness or compliance. And there’s a likelihood that students will write down some incorrect or misguided ideas on their pathways to mastery, which shouldn’t be penalized because making mistakes is a healthy part of learning. Students should be writing more than we could possibly read anyway. Shifting the audience away from the teacher gives students a more potent motivation for writing well and communicating clearly. When, and if, teachers grade and comment on writing, many other readers should have seen and provided constructive feedback on that piece previously. Content-area teachers who fear being unqualified to assess student writing should free themselves from some of that pressure. It’s not your job to be a copy editor and fix every grammatical error. Focus on what makes sense. Question what doesn’t. When you focus on meaning, any time you spend reading and responding to student writing will be more pleasurable; it will be a conversation between you and your students about what they think about their learning. And that is fascinating.

I realize that asking teachers to add a bit of writing to their lessons is encouraging risk-taking and stepping outside of comfort zones. I acknowledge that my dream isn’t likely to come true on most campuses. I know, however, that students don’t write enough in school, and I’ve seen how learning-through-writing strategies can transform classrooms into active, vibrant, student-centered communities of scholars. You probably don’t have the power to control what goes on in others’ classrooms, but you have control over what goes on in yours. Any bit of writing you add is more than your students would have done without you.  Help me make my big dream come true.

SchoolWhyde Initiatives

In my years in education, I’ve seen a lot of schoolwide initiatives. Learning styles, cooperative learning, AVID strategies, technology, differentiation, brain-based instruction, writing-across-the-curriculum, critical reading, 21st century learning (which I think may be different from technology, but I’m not entirely certain), social-emotional learning, block lunch. standards-based grading—the list goes on and on. 

I’m not trying to say anything negative about schoolwide initiatives because I fully believe that, if implemented effectively, a well-chosen initiative can transform a school. I’ve seen initiatives that worked well and ones that have failed more colossally than Crystal Pepsi, the Sony Betamax, Jar Jar Binks, the KFC Double Down, and Scrappy Doo. 

Here’s what I think separates the successful initiatives from the ones that fizzle or simply curl up and die. The problem occurs when the change-makers leave the “Why” out of schoolWhyde.  

I assume that most principals and other educational leaders who launch these plans have thought about, studied, read, and consulted experts about these initiatives before deciding to implement them. Much of this thinking and learning happens during the summer, I assume, when things are a little less busy around the school and the principals aren’t putting out fires (hopefully not literally), or maybe the ideas crop up at conferences or other professional learning opportunities. 

So now we have an educational leader who is excited about an idea and is ready to bring it to life. After all, there’s no time to waste because a truly transformational idea needs to be experienced as soon as possible by as many students as possible. So at the next inservice, faculty meeting, or other opportunity, the new initiative is unveiled to the staff.  

“This year, we are going to allow students to retest for a higher grade and redo homework assignments for full credit.” 

“Since we are focusing on schoolwide AVID strategies, I want to see Focused Note-Taking in every classroom.” 

“I want every student to have a 21st Century learning experience in every class this semester.”

“We’ve got Chromebooks, so I want to see them in use!” 

The What is announced, and the teachers excitedly (in most cases) start planning the How. How are we going to make this happen? 

There will probably be trainings. Before- and after-school seminars and workshops will be offered. E-mails will circulated and videos shared. The staff will plunge into the schoolwide initiative. Teams will meet. Lessons will be planned. And now we’re doing [insert name of initiative here] schoolwide.  

Maybe it will work.  And maybe it won’t. 

The reason it may not work, once again, is because we shortchange the Why. Teachers haven’t had the opportunity to wrap their heads around the rationale for the decision. They aren’t all on board. They haven’t become true believers. 

Truly transformational movements aren’t simple. They’re backed by extensive theory, research, and thought. They’re rarely as easy as they seem. 

Take the redo/retest thing, for example. Allowing multiple attempts to complete homework correctly and retake tests flies in the face of the educational experiences of most teachers who are in the classroom now, so most of us haven’t experienced this firsthand from the student perspective. The theory behind it is complex and multifaceted, but it makes good sense. The problem occurs when teachers adopt the wrong reasons for the initiative. It’s not about making sure every kid gets an A. It’s not preventing hurt feelings and panicky parent phone calls. It’s not about instilling high self-esteem. And it’s certainly not about being able to report lower failure rates. Allowing students to redo homework assignments and retest happens because we believe that learning is more important than recording a grade and that sometimes mastering something involves making some mistakes along the way. 

Getting an entire faculty on board with any initiatives requires time to allow everyone—not just the instructional leaders on campus—to ponder, study, think ideas through, ask questions, raise objections, troubleshoot, and establish a unified vision grounded in a shared understanding of the Why behind the What and the How. Getting one’s head wrapped around the ins and outs of any initiative takes time and effort, but good instructional leaders know that the effort will pay off. 

In the case of Focused Note-Taking (one of my personal favorite AVID strategies), teachers need time to understand that it’s not just about the layout of the paper on which the notes are written. Cornell Notes are one type of notes, and they aren’t the best type of notes in every situation.  When educators have a clear vision of why we ask students to take notes in school, how to establish a clear purpose for the note-taking, what are the various types of notes and why each type is useful, how to teach students to make informed note-taking decisions, why the note-taking process springs from research on learning, and how to incorporate multiple meaningful interactions with notes into the learning process, then (and only then) will Focused Note-Taking take off as a schoolwide initiative. 

Teachers must be well-versed in the thinking behind any strategy or initiative so they can “sell” it to students, field questions from parents and colleagues, and make informed instructional decisions about how to bring the initiative to life. Once the entire staff takes ownership of the idea, schoolWhyde implementation succeeds. 

Maybe it's time to do some formative assessment on our campuses to see how well we understand the Whys behind our schoolwide initiatives. Ask one another to explain the thinking behind the movement. If you can't rattle off a list of reasons and explain your thoughts with certainty, ask for clarification, for more information, and for more conversation at the campus level.

If your campus initiatives have stalled out, consider spending some more time in departments, in teams, and as an entire staff to recalibrate your thinking. Read the works of the educational thinkers endorsing these initiatives. Get more professional development. Discuss and clarify the initiative and the research that supports it. Make sure everyone is on board. When all members of the campus community have an understanding that matches that of the ones who are spearheading the initiative, your efforts to spread a practice across a campus will work...and make an impact.

A Common Language

All I wanted was a washcloth.

After a 19-hour flight from Dallas followed by a full day of sightseeing in the summer Sydney sun, I checked into my hotel, thinking only of how wonderful it would be to wash the layers of sunscreen off my travel-weary face.

My hotel bathroom was well equipped with hand towels, bath towels, tiny soaps and shampoos, but nary a washcloth was to be found. I called down to the front desk, and asked if housekeeping could please bring me a washcloth. The person on the phone, who spoke Australian English, seemed a little flummoxed by my request but said she would take care of it.

About 45 minutes later, there was a knock on my door. When I answered, a hotel staff member handed me a tall pile of hand towels, smiled, and walked off. At this point, I was too tired to think, so I simply assumed that perhaps washcloths aren’t a thing Australians use. After all, it’s surrounded by ocean. Maybe everyone just brings their own loofah with them when they travel.

The next day, I mentioned this confusing incident to some Australian friends at lunch. At my mention of the word “washcloth,” they looked at each other with perplexity. So I did a little charades while describing the item I was looking for. In unison, my friends replied, “Oh, you mean a face washer!”

That night, back at the hotel, I called to request a face washer and within 15 minutes had a supply to last me the rest of my stay.

Sometimes, even in a place where everyone speaks a common language, knowing the preferred terminology for something can make all the difference.   

The same is true in schools. When there isn’t some standardization across the school, we risk confusing, frustrating, or completely losing the students. If a student goes to five different academic classes and several electives in the course of the day and each teacher has a different tardy policy, a different term for the activity the students are expected to be working on as the bell rings, a different policy for late work, a different test makeup policy, a different idea of what note-taking should look like, and a different organizational scheme for notebooks, the student has to juggle six or seven separate sets of guidelines throughout the day.

The power of AVID Schoolwide is that schools establish a common language and present instruction with a unified voice across the school. If the entire faculty of a school shares some basic understandings and terminology—about what the note-taking process entails, how students should organize their materials, where and how students should keep track of assignments and due dates, what a Socratic Seminar or Philosophical Chairs discussion looks like, how students are expected to use academic language, what students should be doing when they read critically in all classes, and how collaborative structures can enhance instruction and deepen student learning—students succeed with fewer impediments.

Imagine a student who experiences three so-called Socratic Seminars in one month of school in three different classes. In one class, the students and teacher arrange chairs in a circle, and the teacher introduces various topics for discussion and debate. The subjects for discussion range from school dress code to the winners of the MTV Music Awards. There is no grade, nor is there any follow-up activity. In another class, the students circle up and discuss a teacher-generated topic about a novel they had been reading. During the discussion, the teacher tallies the number of times each student speaks and assigns a grade determined by “participation and quality of discussion.” In the third class, the teacher gives students an article to read and annotate for homework. At the beginning of class the next day, students in triads generate questions for discussion. Students form a circle of desks and engage in 30 minutes of discussion to deepen the class’s understanding of the article. The teacher only interrupts to remind and encourage students to use the academic language stems they have been practicing in class. The following day, the students begin writing an essay about the article using the notes they took during the discussion to help them.

At the end of that month, if you asked that student to explain Socratic Seminars to you, you’d probably get a muddled answer since the student had three disparate experiences that were all called by the same name. If the faculty at that campus had only had  a shared understanding of the purpose and procedures of Socratic Seminars, students could focus on deepening their skills for rigorous academic discussion rather than learning to navigate the rules in multiple environments.

The AVID Site Team is a powerful force for maximizing the impact of AVID for all students on campus. With members from many content areas, the Site Team can determine what best practices should be disseminated across the campus and provide staff development to help establish a common understanding among the faculty. Having high-impact instructional practices in place for critical reading, note-taking, academic language, content area writing, collaboration, and organization is the passport students need to transfer learning and build overall academic skills throughout the instructional day.  

With a common language for instruction, we can keep students from driving on the wrong side of the road academically. When the academic language barrier is removed, everyone can work toward shared goals that will open doors down the road for success in college and careers.