Author Visit: Loree Griffin Burns

The truth is this: I have only ever had incredibly powerful and positive author visits at Oxford Elementary School, and I'm happy to talk about any of them. If you are lucky enough to host authors at your school, you probably already know that every visit--no matter how similarly structured--is ultimately it's own unique experience for the students and school community. We recently had another really wonderful visit I want to share:

Hosting Loree Griffin Burns for a two-day author visit last week was truly a pleasure.

Over the two days, Loree's presentations spanned all six of her books, and all of our students (preK through 6th grade) had the opportunity to interact with Loree in those classroom presentations. On the first day, our fifth graders virtually visited the relatively young, volcanic island of Surtsey. The sixth graders took a look at ocean movement and trash pollution, and the third and fourth graders learned about the dangers imposed by invasive species like the Asian long-horned beetle. On the second day, PreK, kindergarten, and first grade classes learned about the life cycle of a butterfly and about Loree's research experience at a butterfly farm in Costa Rica. With our second and third grade students, Loree dispelled scary stories about bees and spoke about why bees are so important. In every single session, Loree's presentation, style, and facilitation of student question and answer was seamless and perfectly suited to her wide-ranging audiences.

One part of our visit with Loree that set this author visit apart from others was the Citizen Science Night we sandwiched in the evening between her two-day visit. All of our students and their families were invited to Roberts Farm Preserve, a local preserve with gardens and greenhouses, miles of hiking trails, and indoor/outdoor classroom spaces that often hosts classes or grade-levels in our district for outdoor experiential learning opportunities. We had an amazing turn out for a gorgeous spring night during baseball/softball season! In addition to a brief presentation by Loree about citizen science and ideas for projects families can take part in together, students and their families rotated through three additional stations. Loree led families on a search for insects with techniques and tools for finding insects to observe. A parent

volunteer organized a station about tree identification and talked about watching for invasive species. A STEM teacher led a third rotation about using observation skills--especially your senses--to notice the outdoors, and students and their guests began composing haiku. It was beautiful, not just in terms of the weather, but to see the engagement and involvement of students and their families! Citizen Science Night was a solid example of Loree's willingness to work with us to personalize her visit experience to best achieve our goals for bringing her to our school community.

Another way that this author visit with Loree Griffin Burns was special was due to Loree's participation with Authors for Earth Day. (For more information about Authors for Earth Day you can visit their site, Loree's recent blog post about A4ED from her perspective, or my recent blog post about what our partnership looked like from inside the classroom.) By design, Loree's two-day visit was the culmination of four weeks of research, opinion writing, and persuasive speeches by our fifth graders who were tasked with educating the students of OES about three conservation organizations that are dear to Loree, her research, and her books. At the end of every presentation, fifth grade helpers assisted in conducting the school-wide vote in which every student, kindergarten through sixth grade, had a chance to vote for one organization to receive a generous $1,000 donation from Loree. Each team of fifth graders would come back from a presentation with a stack of ballots for me, and I counted along the way to keep the count manageable. I can honestly tell you that the race was close...the whole way. However, at the end of Loree's second day, she met more informally with the fifth graders who had done so much work and announced that the final winner was Maine Audubon. While all three organization were worthy recipients, Loree told the fifth graders she was glad that the donation would support an organization in Maine where they are living, playing, and growing.

With Loree's help and through her visit, we have been able to provide our entire school community with an author visit they will never forget.

• My students feel like they have made a new writer-friend. They were quick in their comments to note how easily they could talk with Loree and how they were not intimidated by her credentials as an award-winning, published author. 
• Students made many mentions related to how Loree made them feel: respected, valued, empowered. She was absolutely all-in with every age group, giving every student with whom she spoke her full attention. 
• Loree's interactions with students, especially in inviting and fielding their questions inside of her presentations, honored her aim to instill and promote a sense of wonder in students.
• They are motivated and tuned into the needs of the earth more than ever before, and they believe their voice can do something about those needs.
• They are inspired, and they have shared new aspirations for writing or for travel or both. They see new possibilities and realize they can think outside their every day because now they know someone who has done (does) just that.

The bottom line? Students at OES love Loree Griffin Burns and would be ready to have her back next week or next year. But, since she just visited us and more students in more places should have the same great opportunity, they'd also probably say you should invite her to visit you.

Authors for Earth Day: Authenticity at it's Best

When learning takes place within a truly authentic context, students will soar.

Our upcoming author visit has been scheduled for more than a year, but just a few months ago, writer-friend Loree Griffin Burns reached out to me with a twist she had been thinking about. "Are you familiar with Authors for Earth Day (A4ED)?" Loree asked in an email. "I'd like to make OES my A4ED school."

I wasn't familiar, but between a visit to the website and Loree's explanation, I was sure we wanted to be her A4ED school, too. In short, authors who are a part of the A4ED school agree to donate some or all of their school visit fee to a conservation organization of the students' choosing. Yes, there was some work in it for my students, but every bit of the work was well-aligned to curricular goals and instruction.

One month before our visit, Loree Skyped with the fifth graders to introduce the A4ED project. She introduced herself and her work, and she briefly told the students about the three conservation organizations and their work, and then they would be responsible to help the other voters in the school make an educated vote.

Loree's three conservation organizations included Maine Audubon Society, The Ocean Conservancy, and The Xerces Society. Students set to work immediately to visit these websites and learn more about each group's work. In two periods' time, they would complete a quick survey about their first and second choices to help me build relatively equal groups of supporters to take the work forward.

With newly organized and somewhat informed groups in place, the students started the one-week task of researching and writing an evidence-based opinion letter to Loree to convince her why the organization they chose should receive her donation. Their motivation and confidence levels were high. They used all the resources of our previous opinion writing work, and we revisited the importance of knowing the audience you're writing for, because these traditional writing products would not be the only outcome of the project.

Once final drafts of the letters had been collected, the teams of researchers and writers moved to the next task, which involves educating their fellow students about Loree's visit and the A4ED vote. One part of the education step was for each group to make a pair of persuasive posters that would both educate and persuade student voters. The arrangement of our school is such that one poster would have a primary audience while the other would be geared towards intermediate peers. The conversations overheard in this stage, as the students wrestled with how much information to include and how to angle the text and visuals of their product, were inspired and thoughtful.

At the same time, the students began to work on a short persuasive presentation to educate other students about their organization. As part of the presentation, each group was responsible for creating a digital product using Canva or Google Slides that voters could take away from the presentation as persuasive material. There was so much synthesis happening as groups prepared for the range of audiences (grades K through 6) and thought about what would be most convincing and memorable to students, hoping to guarantee a vote for their organization. The transfer of strong opinion skills to persuasive speeches was well-supported by the authentic context.

We ended last week hosting round after round of oral presentations for student audiences of various ages (and parents and other school staff dropped by, too!). While the first rounds were a little jittery, the fifth graders quickly slid into a more comfortable spot, presenting like experts on their respective conservation organizations and trying to win the votes of their OES counterparts so that their organization will receive Loree's A4ED donation.

The fifth graders have done big work--from researching to writing to creating to sharing--in this four-week project, and they've done it all with incredible engagement and investment. With a meaningful and purposeful context for using and applying their reading, writing, speaking and listening skills, they have soared, and the work has been a whole lot of fun, really.

Tomorrow, Loree will visit OES for a two-day series of presentations at our school, and tomorrow students will begin to vote for the conservation organization that will win Loree's donation. Which will get the vote is hard to say, but what is certain is this: this project has already been a huge win for the fifth graders.

Author Visit: Erin Soderberg Downing

I remember when I first sent Erin Soderberg Downing the message that Oxford Elementary School would be reading The Quirks: Welcome to Normal for OES Reads, our whole-school community book this year. Erin's excitement about this news matched mine. I remember she almost immediately started thinking about how she might be able to make the trek from Minneapolis to Maine to meet these to-be OES Read-ers in person. 

This week we concluded OES Reads 2018, and Erin was in Maine, at OES, to wrap it all up.

All through our conversation leading up to her visit, Erin insisted it was important to her that every OES Read-er have the opportunity to have their book signed. It made for a very tight and full day, but soon after the students had arrived and the Pledge of Allegiance had been said, we set out to meet the rigorous challenge. Twenty-two classrooms (PreK-6), roughly 400 students, and just about four hours to do it.

Erin was incredible.

Erin made every classroom we went into feel she was there specifically for them, flexibly adapting to whatever was happening in the room when we dropped in. She personalized book after book while fielding questions from bouncy, excited kindergarteners through thoughtful, curious sixth graders. And, she delivered bookmarks for everyone so that no reader went home without a souvenir of the day.

Reserving time for lunch would have been tough if not for a lunch date we made for Erin to meet with several fifth grade students who have had a chance to read the advanced reader copy of the first book in her next series, The Daring Dreamers Club: Milla Takes Charge (June 5, 2018). The students were all ears as Erin told stories of the writing process, changes that have happened in readying the book for publication, and gave hints about what is to come in books two and three. They asked questions and shared their first impressions with Erin.

The day closed with a whole-school closing assembly for OES Reads, our whole-school community reading initiative. This year, the assembly culminated a six-week window in which readers and their families read The Quirks: Welcome to Normal, completed some activities from our activity calendar, answered trivia to win prizes, and attended a Quirks-themed Family Literacy Night.

Even though Erin had already answered a lot of questions throughout the day in her classroom drop-ins, the students were attentive to Erin's presentation about how The Quirks came to be and the stories she shared from writing The Quirks and Puppy Pirates. OES Read-ers were treated to an outtake chapter from The Quirks as Erin talked about revisions that mean big changes to the book. And, they had the chance to ask more questions (and did!).

Together, we listened to Erin read the Epilogue from The Quirks: Welcome to Normal, celebrated a few second grade writers who had written haiku inspired by The Quirks, and sang a quirky little tune written by one of our regular substitutes.

The students and staff at OES loved Erin, with many remarking later that day and the next about how terrific she had been and how much it meant to the students to meet her. 

Truly, it is the most important magical work to make it possible, and I'm so grateful to Erin for sharing such enthusiasm about OES Reads and her generosity and willingness to make this day a reality for our school community. 

Author Visit: Writing Workshop with Linda Urban

I sit at a table in my classroom, side by side with my students. Our workspace is layered with notebooks and index cards and black Flair pens and their covers. The students hands--and mine--scrawl a memory onto our pages. I'm finding myself transported to Barcelona, 1995; I'm sitting down to dinner with my high school Foreign Language Club. And while I'm about to sample that first ringlet of calamari again, I'm also keenly aware that my classroom is still and busy, humming with an aura of writers at work. 

"And, stop," a voice cuts the quiet. "Who has something they would be willing to share?" 

Half a dozen hands go up, and Linda Urban proceeds to move from one student to the next, signaling the students' moment, each reading aloud with confidence and pride the writing produced from an image conjured up through the selective questioning of the visiting author.

This week Linda Urban returned to OES to lead writing workshops for my 5th graders, enlisting their help in co-researchers about writers notebooks. Each workshop began with a glimpse into Linda's own notebooks and notebooks of other creators of kidlit, emphasizing the imperfect and the importance of writing in our notebooks for ourselves first. Then, my students and I participated in exercises selected from Linda's own study of and with comic-artist Lynda Barry (What It Is, 2009, and Syllabus, 2014). The curated exercises Linda facilitated were geared towards engaging writers and quieting their critical mind while using their writing notebooks as a place of play. My students were enthusiastic workshop participants and co-researchers, many producing more writing in short spurts of time than they typically do in our regular writing workshop and complaining when time had run out.

After school, Linda presented a third writing workshop session, this one for an audience of district colleagues and staff members. The adult audience wrote through many of the same exercises, and Linda shared her message about the importance of play in writers notebooks with research from numerous leaders in the field of education.

I am not new to the inspiration of Linda Urban. Linda and I collaborated in a long-term partnership a few years ago that shed light on Linda's process while revising Milo Speck: Accidental Agent and influenced me to strive for as much authenticity as possible in my classroom writing instruction. I've hosted Linda Urban at OES twice before, in both a classroom visit and a whole-school visit with assemblies designed for primary and intermediate audiences. I've witnessed her interactions with individual students and groups of almost 200 and know first-hand that Linda Urban's energy, sense of humor, and genuine nature contribute to her highly-engaging and phenomenal way with students.

And yet, I will never turn down an opportunity to be reminded.

Linda Urban's writing workshops were a terrific success. Here's why:

Linda builds quick and easy rapport with writers--both students and adults. In her willingness to share her own examples, Linda's model of vulnerability invites her workshop participants to take safe risks, also. Linda's interest in and respect for students has them eager to embrace their writer-selves.
Linda's suggestions are practical in practice. Each of the exercises and ideas Linda shared can be done in little time, making the commitment to "try it out" feel doable in and among all the other constraints we face in the classroom. Many of the ideas and practices Linda shares will require small shifts in the work we already do with students.
Linda's presentation is well-balanced between sharing her own story and examples, those of other writers, and issuing an invitation for student (and adult) writers to play and write. Our sessions were close to two hours long, and the participants could have gone for longer.
Linda's message about using notebooks and making time for play is important. And sometimes we need these important reminders to revisit, or we need the chance to slow down and experience the truth ourselves in order to recommit to doing what is best for students.

My week has been spent picking up little gems that my students and colleagues are putting down from our time with Linda Urban. It has been gratifying to overhear students make reference to their time spent with Linda, to incorporate small bits of what we shared together into the last few days in the classroom, and to bump into colleagues who attended the afternoon professional development session and hear them express how meaningful that time spent writing with Linda was to them.

We're thankful to have shared a day writer-to-writer with Linda Urban, and her words and encouragement will last through the year and beyond.

You can have Linda visit your school or classroom, too. (And honestly, I don't know why you wouldn't...) Send an inquiry or find out more.

Author Visit: Elly Swartz

I had the great fortune of hosting author Elly Swartz at my school last week.

Finding Perfect was our class read aloud through the winter months, and my fifth graders responded strongly to Elly's characters and their stories. They were curious and interested in Molly's anxiety and exhibited a genuine desire to understand her internal conflict, even if different from their own struggles. The students were tickled to hear that Elly would be visiting to talk with them about a book they had grown to love.

Over the last year or so, I have also been lucky to have several conversations with Elly related to writing process and identity. Familiar with Elly's transparency and candor while being relentlessly inspiring and encouraging in her conversations about writing, I knew the students' writing lives would be enriched by the opportunity to talk with her personally.

The result was a completely full and especially joyful day for all readers and writers involved.

While visiting Oxford Elementary, Elly addressed my two fifth grade classes separately and presented a large group session with the three sixth grade classes combined. With each group, she invited any and all student questions, addressing everything from what happened to characters beyond the last page to writing quirks that are part of her process. Students' faces radiated with engagement. The dynamic was instantly comfortable, and my students could easily read that Elly was genuine in her interest and respect for what they had to say.

A look over one student's shoulder during
the Unfolding Identity Project.

Elly shared the Unfolding Identity Project with readers as part of her presentations. In keeping with the themes of Finding Perfect, Elly encouraged the students to look at the many layers of their identity and to consider what lies below the surface of those around them, too. As a teacher, I enjoyed listening to the students support one another in generating descriptors for themselves. There were so many opportunities for affirmation embedded in this activity.

Finding space for celebration as a more frequent part of the writing journey has become a specific focus for me and my writing workshop and was a direct outcome of my conversations with Elly. All year long, I have embedded more opportunities to scaffold students in recognizing smaller successes in our writing processes. During her time with my students, Elly followed up on this big idea of celebration, asking students to share one celebration about themselves as a writer so far this year, and every student shared a celebration.

Elly Swartz gave my students an up-close and personal experience in her visit to Oxford Elementary. The students loved everything about Elly's visit: the stories she shared about her personal writing journey, the picture book she brought that she had loved reading with her own children, the "secrets" about revising Finding Perfect and allusions to her forthcoming book, Smart Cookie (Scholastic, 2018). But also, they loved Elly--a writer among writers, a reader among readers. Through her authentic conversation about reading and writing and the care she showed for my students on this one day, Elly became part of our literacy community.

Why I Write: Students Need Writing Mentors

My mother recently found and sent me a photo of myself at 18 months, sitting in a highchair at the kitchen counter in our first apartment. Blank pages before me, one heck of a grip on a pencil, and a beam of pride on my face. My mother's familiar handwriting on the bottom of the polaroid reads, "Writing Letters!"

I've always been a writer.

Who I am as a writer and what I know and understand about writing has changed, though. And so has writing instruction in my classroom.

I'd be fibbing if I attributed the change in my perspective to one single factor over the last few years. Truthfully, I can name three very specific events. But the one of these three that is most easily replicable is this:

I write.

What I write ranges from short bits of fiction to poetry to book reviews to professional pieces. Most of what I write lives inside of notebooks and my hard drive, has never (and probably will never) be seen or consumed by readers. What I write doesn't matter so much. It matters more that I do.

Writing regularly (or, close...ish) changed my perspective. When I looked at writing instruction in my classroom through my teacher-writer eyes, I could hardly look away from the incongruence of my writing workshop and my own writing life. So, while I write for a lengthy list of purely personal reasons, too, these reasons #WhyIWrite are some of my most important:

I write because every day I face forty-five apprenticing writers, and it makes all the difference when I can say to them over their notebooks and my own, "Yeah, me too."

I write because my students need writing mentors. Students should learn by engaging with a writer who has plentiful and practical experience in this thing they are learning to do.

I write because my own tendency to shield and protect my writer-heart from criticism and judgement reminds me of the need to be kind with my students' writer-hearts, too.

I write because experiencing that the process of writing changes for me with everything I try to write nags at me to be flexible and open to students' writing needs and paths to "publication" that don't look like mine.

I write because relationships are born of risk-taking and bearing ourselves, and if my students are going to trust me, I must take chances first.

I write because my students encourage me and inspire me.

I write because they want to know what happens next.

And so do I.

So Much Potential: On New Writer's Notebooks

Over time, my life as a writer has changed me. For instance, I have a greater appreciation for the potential of a new notebook.

Every time I begin a new writer's notebook, I find myself swept into this ultra-reflective state of mind. Flipping through the pages of the previous, finished notebook, I make note of the things preserved there--large and small--that I captured and stored away. Brave moments, developing ideas, markings of wonder, complaints, and celebrations. And inevitably, I close that finished notebook and smile to myself about all that filled the pages knowing that most of what is there now, committed in imperfect scribble, I didn't anticipate when I was writing on the first page.

Similarly, I found myself in this position this week when I saw my fifteenth First Day of School. I was ready with a few minutes to spare, and I sat in my too-quiet, too-tidy, too-white classroom, noting the connection between my feelings this morning to those that stir when I open to that first page of a new notebook. "There--at those cleared tabletops, in those empty chairs, on those blank walls--rests so much potential," I thought.

Soon, the quiet was replaced with eager energy, excited students looking and behaving a whole year older. The once empty tables were cluttered again with toppling school supplies.

We went about the business of sorting and storing materials. When I asked the students to hold up their writer's notebooks, something surreal moved through the air. As I gathered the notebooks at each of their tables, I was struck with the assortment and imagined them in the back-to-school aisles of the stores, thoughtful and deliberate in picking their new writer's notebooks. I was overcome by what I know from experience: on this day, they could not know how those blank pages will be filled, what will happen in the days they live as writers, but later they will look back with wonderment of what is there.

And this became the basis of launching writers' workshop with my students, the heart of my impassioned words about the endless possibilities and potential a new notebook holds. I held their stack of brand-new notebooks and talked with unrestrained enthusiasm about how much I wonder about their blank notebooks, and how wonderful and exciting it is to dream of the growing and self-discovery that will fill their pages. I spoke to my writers about the gift of time to write, to wonder, to explore. I spoke of writing imperfectly, taking chances, and the opportunity to revisit and revise. And I spoke about the great privilege that I feel, because I get to journey beside them as a writer, too. Every day. This whole school year.

I told my writers about my ritual of reflecting at the end/start of each new notebook, and I flipped open to the first page of the very notebook I'm writing in now. I read this first page aloud:

It was quiet when I stopped. I had goosebumps. I looked around at their faces, reading the expressions. They were on the edge of their seats, their eyes sparkled, and they couldn't suppress their smiles. So, I did the very most perfect thing to do: I invited them to write, encouraging them to let their first, new, blank page to speak to them.

I returned their notebooks with great reverence, as best I could between uncoordinated attempts to brush away embarrassing tears. But always astute, they noticed, and I heard one student tell another, "This matters so much, she's crying!" The tears were entirely unplanned, but Yes, Dear Writer, your new beginning as a fifth grade writer very much matters.

Once all of the students had their notebooks again, I settled with my own and began drafting this post. Once or twice I made myself pause to observe their stamina and behaviors. Almost without exception, their pencils were moving fluidly.

Before I left for the day, I peeked inside their notebooks, curious what I would find there. Some students had launched into drafting stories, but some had listened for the voice of the blank page, and their voices caught my heart.  

"How can I become the most spectacular writer I can be?" 

Wow, kid. Keep asking. Please.

I love how creatively the blank page "spoke" for this writer.

Moving from grade 4 to grades 5/6 this year, I recognize the growth on these first pages, too. A year later, a year more of life as a writer, and the students aren't as afraid of the blank page. Maybe, just maybe, they see that blank page as limitless possibilities...so much potential.

Happy Birthday, Milo Speck

Dear Milo,

I’ll admit it: this is a first. I cannot think of another time in all my book-crazed doings that I wrote a letter to a middle-grade book character (let alone published it online). But, no matter how much it heightens my nerdy-factor, I couldn’t let your publication day pass without writing to say: 

Happy (Book) Birthday!

I bet you have quite a team celebrating today. I can only imagine the feelings of your author and her incredible support team on your publication day. My students and I have celebrated book birthdays before, but we agree that yours feels different, maybe more personal thanks to Linda, who invited us into your world two years ago. You were a manuscript under revision. Unbeknownst to you, you were an experimental subject, the topic of many revealing and inspiring writing conversations between my students and Linda. We’ve anticipated this day, too, the more we got to know Linda as a fellow writer and witnessed her writing process and followed you through to publication.

I still remember two Decembers ago when you--a “smaller” you, in only your first five chapters--first made your way to my classroom. My students and I knew we were spending time something--someone--special as we read, discussed, reacted, and responded. We got to know you and your family. We ventured with you to Ogregon, where boy-hungry ogres seemed impossible to dodge. We couldn’t know your mission yet (really) and couldn’t imagine if you would survive it. But we were already looking forward to this day, when you would be published.

Do you remember the day you arrived in my classroom as an ARC? Our school secretary knew you were inside that decorated envelope and hand-delivered you to our door. The room erupted in excited noise. The students insisted that we stop whatever we were doing (I can’t remember what that was now. Telling, isn’t it?) and read on from where we had stopped in the manuscript that still lived in my inbox. And we did. Whenever we were inside your story, we were making happy memories--sharing our reading and writing lives.

We spent months in friendship with you as we virtually navigated the world of Ogregon, willing you to evade threats of danger and to be successful in your mission. We studied your actions, your words, your choices. We noticed as you changed and grew, and we found courage in your bravery, perseverance, and leadership.

Ready to begin again...

Today is not only your book birthday, Milo, but it’s also our first day of school. One of our very last memories of the past school year was talking about you in person when Linda visited us. The whole day felt celebratory, celebrating my writers and Linda and you, all the same. And now, here we are at the beginning again, and it seems fitting that my students and I will begin your story again--the published version--on page 1 with all of our new classmates and friends, in all of six of our new 5th and 6th grade classrooms.

Milo, your book birthday is a happy day for all of us, because there are so many other readers like us who will have the chance to read your story now, too. Kids and teachers and parents. They’ll laugh. They’ll cheer. They’ll worry and wonder for you, too. And then, they’re probably going to tell someone else about you. We sure hope they do.

It has been a real honor, Milo, to watch you evolve over the last two years...to cheer you along...and now to celebrate you.

Happy Birthday, Milo Speck: Accidental Agent.

From, 
Two Years of Book-loving Friends at Oxford Elementary School

Using an Out-loud Voice

Last week while driving myself and my colleague, Sara, to the ECET2 conference at Colby College, I had a notorious Melissa-moment. Our ride was full of chatter about the first day of convening and about our developing ideas for returning to school. There was a comfortable moment of quiet in the conversation which I punctuated by blurting:

"Yeah, I guess I need to email some people."

Sara's head whipped to look at me, and even though my eyes never left the road, I could see her puzzled face questioning my out-of-nowhere comment. It was a look I had seen countless times before in our friendship. I told you, it was a classic Melissa-moment.

I laughed, mostly with awareness that I had done it again: had something of a conversation with myself inside my head and then sputtered out my seemingly-random conclusion in my out-loud voice.

I am so lucky Sara is patient and forgiving of this habit. And yet, maybe I need to attend to this.

In yesterday's case, my internal conversation was really just an ambling of small details and things I need to attend to sooner than later related to back-to-school business--literally a to-do list. But I know on other occasions my internal conversations have been more meaty, from thinking about increasing student ownership of my classroom to puzzling out ways to encourage parent involvement. How many other conversations do I have with myself internally that should be voiced...out-loud?

And I wonder: why don't I? (Why don't we?)

I wonder if it's because ideas are complicated, sometimes fragile and sometimes rough around the edges? I wonder if ideas feel safer in the confines of our minds, tumbling around without feedback, criticism, or response from others? Do ideas stay inside out of fear of rejection? Or are ideas trapped by perseveration on refining and perfecting our ideas first? Do we convince ourselves that someone else has already thought our thought or would think it better? Do we assume everyone else knows what we don't?

How often do we, as teachers, do this with our practice and our classroom experiences?

How many interesting, challenging, creative, or forward-thinking ideas get tossed around internally in the safety of our minds or on the pages of our notebooks but never benefit from tangling up with other people's questions or thinking or stories? How many lesson ideas, cool collaborations, or professional growth opportunities are never actualized or take longer to take shape because we keep them protected? How many ideas never have the chance to see encouragement, influence, or the company of others?

Honoring risk and vulnerability with ideas is a place where my own growth is slow, but improving. More often than not, the risks I have painstakingly taken to be vulnerable about exposing my thinking have resulted in positive growth and promising momentum.

The ECET2ME convening was a small sampling of professional community that helped reiterate this learning for me. ECET2ME was glittered with conversations between pairs or groups of impassioned educators on the edge of creativity and movement, forward-thinking teacher-leaders who brainstormed and problem solved and empowered one another through the sharing, questioning, and probing of ideas--out loud and with others.

This is what I am thinking about as my "new year" approaches. As I consider what I might prioritize as professional goals this school year, I'm thinking about the ideas I protect internally and what might happen if I let them out. 

I have a voice. I need to use it. Out-loud.

I think I'm going to. How 'bout you?

Milo Speck: Accidental Agent

What do YOU do when you read a book that you just LOVE?

If you are anything like the crazy book loving kids from my classroom, you just can't wait to tell someone about it.
                                      Someone.
                                                          Anyone.
                                                                            EVERYONE.

For the last two years, my students have been incredibly fortunate to be pen pals with Linda Urban. She has shared with us stories from the process of writing and publishing her forthcoming book Milo Speck: Accidental Agent. The students and I feel especially lucky to have been advanced readers of the newest Linda Urban book. 

As we wrap up the school year, and the students reflect on the highlights of fourth grade, they keep circling around to the experiences we had with Milo Speck: Accidental Agent. Sharing the book and creating book buzz about a title we know you will love has strengthened our community.

I'm glad the students have given me permission to share the Milo Speck: Accidental Agent book trailer they created on my blog. They were thoughtful, creative, and committed to representing the book well for potential readers.

We hope you enjoy the book trailer now and love the book in September. 

And, if you feel inclined to share, please do. Nothing would make them happier.

Milo Speck: Accidental Agent, by Linda Urban, coming from Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, September, 2015.

Art and Word Mingle

One of my many celebrations this week came as an unexpected surprise. 

Last week was our first week of state testing, making our schedule way more topsy-turvy than it usually is (even for me). In between the test sessions, my goal was to keep our classroom activities easy-going, but to use time well. Like my colleagues across the country, I am trying to slow time down as I run out of days!

I accepted an invitation for my class to Skype with another group of fourth graders at Michele Knott's school in Illinois. Michele was incredibly well-organized and had a plan in place, leaving me to prepare my kids and fall in: we would read a few poems for two voices together with the Maine kids and the Illinois kids alternating, and then each group could share some of their poems with others. 

Uh, hold up. Share their poems? This was the onset of small panic attack. What did my students have to share?

My students had done a little bit of poetry writing in their weekly library special before vacation, but those haiku were mostly first-draft poems. You know, the kind you write when you're just trying out this new-ish, uncomfortable thing and, for the most part, any show of effort is close enough for now? I hadn't facilitated this learning. Did I think the students had haiku ready to share?

No, I knew. I wouldn't want to put them in a position of sharing first-draft work on the spot. I needed to give them time to practice writing, and they should know that the purpose of their writing will be to share with an audience.

Though this was in the back of my mind on Monday morning, it was purely happenstance that I lifted the screen of my computer and found myself looking at photo of a snake...and a three-line poem with the hashtag #haiku...by author Loree Griffin Burns. During our Monday morning class meeting to look at the week ahead, I shared the photo and Loree's haiku with my students. They applauded and expressed words of praise, and then someone said, "Isn't Loree the one who wrote Beetle Busters?" (And someone else chimed in, "And Handle with Care!")

Just like that a conversation spawned about writers who try different kinds of writing, and that yes, the same Loree Griffin Burns who they knew from the informational books in our classroom library also writes poetry. And, she's probably not the only writer who likes to write different types of writing.

The next day, when Loree posted another haiku accompanied by another photo, I was struck by the way the two -art and words- complimented one another. And that's where an idea that electrified my students' haiku writing struck.

In their previous haiku experience, my students had been asked to pull poetic language from wherever they had stored encounters with nature in their minds--in fact, their library assignment was strictly an animal haiku. For many of my learners, poetry writing was too open-ended and abstract, and many lines of their haiku contained phrases like, "...is awesome" or "I like..." or "...are cool." What if, I wondered, I could hand them visual inspiration from which to write? What if I could give them a choice of photos to get them started?

As quickly as the idea had come, I was revamping our poetry workshop for the day. When I shared my wonder, Loree generously offered her own photos for our use. Before they even put a syllable to the page, the students felt important and empowered by her offer. There was a swell of positive energy hovering in the room as I came to the last of Loree's photos, and students told a partner which photos inspired them to write. They needed no reminders or redirection. Notebooks flipped open, pencils scratched, and hands clapped out syllables.

I wrote, too--for a while. But mostly I listened. Voices came from tables around the room. 
"Ugh, that's too many!"
"What if you try..."
"Could you say 'pond' instead of 'ocean'?"
"Oh, I really love that line!"
"Could you pick a better word than 'awesome'?"
"Read that one again."

They were writing partners and poets, on a mission to give Loree's photos haiku, and in the writing process, no one was going to be left behind. Some students wrote many haiku and selected their favorite, sometimes polling their friends. Others created from images in their heads, and when it was time to format their poem on a slide, we were able to find photos in my own personal collection that they felt matched. 

The students are so proud of themselves and their poetry. On Friday, the project became something of a team effort as we pressed to finish before the week ran out--students were rallying behind other students to make suggestions about replacing words or dropping syllables. Every student has a finished haiku slide in the classroom collection. Many of their finished haiku slides are below. It has been so interesting to see which images spoke to which students and to catch them counting syllables in their spare time, too. 

What started as a frantic response on my part became a memorable workshop in our classroom. Productive talk and writing conversations, freedom to create and express punctuated the broken up days of our testing week. What a gift. Someday (if time allows!), I would like to take the students outside to the wooded edge of the playground, equipped with their notebooks AND iPads, to give them a chance to create poems with art and words again.

Art and Word mingle--

inspired poets result.

This teacher gives thanks.

(Oh! And several students did confidently share their poems with the students in Illinois while the others cheered them on. Phew.)

OES Reads: The Final Chapter

In addition to some final classroom projects, this week we put closure on OES Reads for 2015. Our last day of the five-week period was bookend-ed with excitement and celebration.

(Find more information about OES Reads in these previous blog posts in the series: Building Excitement, the Big Reveal, Week 1, Week 2, Family Literacy Night, Week 4.)

Virtual Author Visits
Kate Messner has been a superstar in our new venture of unifying students PreK-6 with studying a single author's work. Kate has been generous in her support for OES Reads, always curious and interested in what was happening with her new readers in our small school in rural Maine. While we were unable to coordinate an in-person author visit with Kate, she was gracious in scheduling two virtual visits with our students and staff on Friday, the day of our closing assembly.

As the first group of students arrived--the younger readers who read Ranger in Time: Rescue on the Oregon Trail--a colleague shared with me that the students were excited. "They're more excited about this than Valentine's Day and the 100th Day of School!" (Which it was on Friday, too.) I think her comment stemmed from the nervous/excited buzz of the gym as students were seated on mats on the floor and were taken by the large projection on the gym wall. But that buzz of energy didn't worry me; it told me the students knew what I did--what was happening was something special. For this group of students (and many of my colleagues), our Skype with Kate was a first: they had never had this experience before. 

Soon enough, the icon near Kate's name turned green, I gave the students an ever-so-brief introduction, and they fell silent, waiting to see the author they've heard so much about over the last five weeks come alive on the screen.

The buzz subsided. They were fascinated as soon as Kate said "Hello."

Kate shared the story of how Ranger in Time came to be and told about the travel and research she did to write Rescue on the Oregon Trail and Danger in Ancient Rome. Our students delighted to hear they were among some of the first readers to see the newly printed ARCs of Danger in Ancient Rome, and they were happy to sneak a peek inside at Kelly McMorris's art. 

Kate also took questions from the group, ranging from how she "got so good at writing" to why she kissed a frog to do research! Students and teachers alike were mesmerized when Kate read aloud the beginning of soon-to-be-published Up in the Garden, Down in the Dirt (March 3, 2015).

We signed off with Kate briefly and transitioned the K-3 group--with magic still alive in their eyes--back to their classrooms, bringing in the 4-6th grade group who read Capture the Flag. Some of these students had experienced an author Skype before, but far more of the students were new to the experience in this group also.

The reaction of the older students to Skyping with Kate was just the same. The students were engulfed in Kate's presentation about the research and writing process behind Capture the Flag. Writing became real for them when Kate showed them her oversized pages of maps and webs and plans. The questions posed by the fourth, fifth, and sixth grade students showed real interest and curiosity about authorship. Most questions were about Kate's writing process and habits. 

The 4th-6th grade students' to-be-read lists grew a little during our Skype, too, especially when Kate talked about the plot in her Spring 2016 novel, currently titled The Seventh Wish. Now they will all be waiting along with the rest of us!

If she hadn't already captured the students with her books, Kate certainly won them over with her virtual visits on Friday. It might have had something to do with the package of bookmarked and signed book labels she promised, but I think it had more to do with the statement she made to OES Readers (and writers!) that they matter--enough that she wanted to talk to them. Kate became "known" to the students as a person behind the name and beautiful book covers. As an OES Reads author, Kate will remain part of our school community for a long time to come.

The Closing Assembly
The last 75 minutes of the day on Friday--a send-off to vacation week--was spent as a whole-school community. Assembled in the gym with many parent guests, our closing assembly was fashioned to showcase OES Reads-related work from across all grade levels.

Third grade students display poster-sized directions for making a yarn doll.

• Kindergarteners sang "R-A-N-G-E-R" (to the tune of "B-I-N-G-O"). 
• 1st graders shared visualization work or opinion writing. One class of first graders even taught the teachers a square dance.
• 2nd graders shared maps of westward movement trails, including the Oregon Trail.
• 3rd graders shared reflective writing and the directions for making a yarn doll.
• 4th graders performed a skit to book-talk other Kate Messner titles for future reading.
• 5th graders recited Kate's poem "What Happened to Your Book Today."
• 6th graders performed a readers theater about the history of the Star-Spangled Banner.
• Grades K-3 sang "Yankee Doodle" and grades 4-6 sang "The Star-Spangled Banner."
• And we watched the whole five weeks in review with a slideshow.

The closing assembly was special. It was a new venture to have so many students and classrooms share the spotlight. Parents snapped photos, took video, and beamed over everything the kids did.

The last day of OES Reads will be an important memory in the lives of our students as they look back on their year of school. From the opportunity to talk with our OES Reads author to the final showcase of student work, our last day of OES Reads 2015 embodied what it's all about: connecting through reading and writing.

Thanks for "journeying" with me/us through this blog series. I hope, sincerely, that something from our project has been helpful or inspiring to you as you think about making the connectivity reading and writing real for your students and school community.