“Sy, will you read this?”
In the next three seconds, I will build or break. Every word I utter, every gesture I make from this moment forward will carry or crash her hopes. 1, 2, 3…
There’s no script to follow. No manual to brush up on. No magic formula. It is raw. It is real. It is scary. Responding to writers is deeply personal and profoundly powerful. And there’s no size that fits all, which only makes the moment matter more because the build or break relies much on how well we know the writer before us, for she will weigh everything we say, she will carry with her–for years perhaps–our response. 1, 2, 3…
She somewhere along the way lost–or never had–confidence as a writer, which is perplexing to me, for she is more than able, consistently producing lovely pieces of writing. And so, I wonder and worry at her trepidation every time she seeks feedback. Is it simply part of her character? Was she wounded by a teacher’s remark in her past? Regardless the reason, she seems in pain when she asks, “Sy, will you read this?” 1, 2, 3…
“Of course, I’d love to. But, help me first, Mar. What do you want me to look for as your reader?”
She knows better than to ask me to tell her if it’s “good,” but her past conditioning takes her there anyway, and she smiles at my smile as I shake my head no. And we pause for a moment as I once again, gently remind her that “good” carries little meaning, that it honors not her the writer, nor her writing. She should expect from me a more dignified response, than “good” or “bad.”
“Why did you write this piece, kiddo? What do you want it to do for me as a your reader?”
“I want you to feel like you are at my family’s cabin. I want to know if the senses are working?”
“Ah, those are the questions, chica. Those give me purpose as your reader.”
So, I set to reading, her eyes not watching but weighing, an almost unnerving feeling as the reader’s being read. And then the reader must speak, a new microscope to endure as he ferrets out the right words to say to this young lady, seeking to build from this precipitous moment in her growth as a writer. 1, 2, 3…
And that’s one kid. One writer. Each a study in herself, as I move from one to the next helping, hopefully not hurting, in our moment, seconds at a time in place where there is simply not enough time, in a place where my impact in the grand scheme of her development is but a blink, but those seconds may last a lifetime. A lifetime.
It is no small thing, then, this power we wield. It is scary. In a mere matter of seconds, we change a world.
Today’s Trail
Along today’s trail we will experience…
…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.
…choosing a champ.
…growing as writers through drafting and conferencing.
…reflecting in our Journey Journals.
…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.
Happy Friday, all. Have a great weekend.
Do. Reflect. Do Better.
Simple. Beautiful. As always, I am amazed at your ability to make something incredibly powerful from a seemingly simple question. Of course, it is not a simple question from our fragile young writers. But this has taught me something I feel I should already know: kindness and focus in response to my young writers. Thank you.
Of course, I have a question to follow as well: how long are your class periods? We do “first five” of reading and I have read where your Smiles and Frowns take a few good minutes. Wondering how to fit this all in because I want to use something inspired by Smiles and Frowns next year. Maybe even end the year with doing it for a few good weeks.
Thank you, Sy, as always.
Good morning, Warren. Thank you for connecting and commenting. My class periods are 55 minutes. In my class, Smiles and Frowns takes roughly 5-10 minutes, depending on how “talkative” my kiddos are. It is a time commitment, no doubt. But I think it pays dividends, and I would do it every day, no matter the length of my periods. I think about all the other ways teachers “spend” time, and I imagine there are number of inefficiently and/or ineffectively used minutes that could be used for the time Smiles and Frowns takes. I think, too, about the classrooms which are hyper-efficient, and I wonder about the human connections in those rooms. For me, as you likely know, there is nothing more important than the humans in the room, so we start with the humans in the room. I will ever stand by my position that it is the best decision I have made as a teacher. Hope this helps. More, I hope you give this a shot with your kiddos. If time is an issue. Maybe every other day?