I knew. They knew. We knew. They hadn’t read the story in preparation for yesterday’s activity. Of course, this is not a new phenomenon in the ELA classroom, even before “technology,” kids didn’t read. Yes, many do, but many don’t as well. It’s a longstanding tradition. And as such, at least in my experience, it puts an elephant in the room, and we can either fight it, ignore it, or accept it.

For years, I fought it with threats of grades, but now that grades are no longer a weapon or a tool, I have lost my “fight,” which has been reduced to sometimes more impassioned than impactful pep talks about the importance of reading, as I “wah, wah, wah” to my kids.

For a time–too long, in truth–I ignored it. I met apathy with apathy. And though it did not sit comfortably on my English teacher shoulder, my fight was gone. I wasn’t even sure I believed my “wah, wah” anymore.

At last–right or wrong (see “Somewhere Between” from yesterday http://www.letschangeeducation.com/somewhere-between-project-180-day-33/)–I have come to accept the reality that no matter what I do, some kids won’t read–even “good kids.” In fact, many “good kids” are really just “good” at the game, and “reading it” really means (from their mouths) “I started the book, but I ran out of time and I read the Cliff’s or Sparknotes, so I wouldn’t fail the test.”

Do I want the kids to read everything I put in front of them? Of course I do. Do I try to pick things that are relevant? Of course I do. Do I try to inspire them to dig into the marrow of life that they’ll find in literature? Of course I do. Do they then all read? Of course they don’t.

Yesterday, for the first–and not the last–time this year, I addressed the elephant in the room. I let kids know that I knew. I knew some had not read. I knew some had not finished. I let them know I knew, and I also let them know I was mildly disappointed, but more, I let them know that I had no desire to make believe with them. Some didn’t read. Some will never read. It’s what it is. It’s what it’s been. It’s what it will be. Pretending doesn’t make it so. So I asked them not to pretend. I asked them to own it.

Here’s how it played out. The planned activity was a “silent discussion” on Amy Tan’s short story, “Two Kinds.” The room was arranged into seven table groups. At each table there was a sheet of butcher paper with a question in the middle. The kids had a minute-and-a-half to silently write a response before rotating around the room, getting to each table before returning to their own.

Wondering and worrying what they would look like for my kids who did not read or finish and not wanting them to fake it, I provided an alternate set of questions, so they could participate and contribute. Of course, we couldn’t perfectly match question for question, but my student teacher came up with five general questions in the context of the story which dealt with parent-child relationships. So, for example, instead of asking how Jing-mei and her mother were similar and different, we asked kids how they were similar and different to their own parents. Again, not the perfect match but an opportunity. I offered a window, instead of a door. We asked the kids who did not read or finish to code their responses DNR (did not read) or DNF (did not finish). And we also asked them to sign their names, just as the “readers” did. We asked them to own it. And they did.

At the end, wondering how they felt about my accepting the elephant, I asked them if I was a fool for my approach. Most said, no and that they appreciated the “grace” and my being “real.” A few, however, suggested that I was maybe a little foolish in letting the DNR’s and the DNF’s know that it was okay, that I had just invited them to not read in the future. Not to read in the future. And while there is wisdom in the honesty of my little humans, and I may indeed have perpetuated what they claimed, I think it’s a little less-simple than that. For who created the DNR’s in the past? And how did they do it? Fighting it, ignoring it? More, who created my present reality with DNR’s? Were all my kids faithful readers when they walked in my door this fall? Or were the DNR’s already DNR’s? Seems a complicated set of questions to a simple reality: kids aren’t reading.

At present, my response to this reality is to accept and work with the elephant. He’s there. Always has been. I can no longer fight or ignore him, so I accept him. Just being honest.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will experience…

…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.

…growing with grammar.

…wrapping up intros and beginning the bodies of our personal narratives.

…reflecting in our Journey Journals.

…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Wednesday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.