BCTELA

Dr. Sharon Jeroski is an acclaimed writer, researcher, and speaker. Two international awards for excellence in evaluation reporting have recognized her work in program evaluation and she has presented papers at several national and international conferences. With Pearson Education Canada, she has co-authored many resources, such as Reaching Readers, Quick Comprehension Assessment Grades 3-6, and Viewpoints 11 & 12. She has a special passion for oral language and its essential role in language arts classrooms.

Matt Rosati has been teaching English and Social Studies for 14 years and is an English department head in SD42, Maple Ridge. This is his first journal as a new co-editor. 

I finally got started. My wife has been asking me to prepare the baby's room for some time. Pulling down wallpaper, drywall repair, sanding, painting, pulling up carpet, installing a new floor-these are a few of my least favorite things. Last week, it was clear that I had run out of excuses and "important things I had to do" when she looked at me and said, "We have to get this done, he's coming." Her stomach attested to her earnest tone. Ready or not, baby number one was on the way. So Saturday I pulled down wallpaper, repaired drywall, sanded, and painted. My mind drifts when I do this type of work and I thought about what in the world I was going to do with a baby boy. Would anything I do be enough? What if I forget something important that I have to teach him? How can I remember not to forget? Then I stared thinking about the missing parts of my own education and lamented that though my new son will begin a season of learning new things daily, my time for learning had passed. I had to pull myself back to the present moment and realize what a silly thing I had just thought. What was I talking about? I can count on two hands all the new things I have learned just since the New Year.

Excited, I ran into the hallway,
"Honey, I got it!"
"Got what?"
"My editorial!"
"That's nice . . . are you done painting?"
She was really much more excited for me, but she knows me enough to keep blinders on me until the job's done. So, I got it, indeed! I hope that by sharing a couple of the many wonderful learning experiences I've had in just the past few weeks, I can inspire you, dear reader, to keep the desire for learning and growing aflame and well-stoked.

One of the greatest pleasures I've had this year is to be part of the Leadership Academy. It's a collection of about 25 teachers and administrators, mentored by Faye Brownlie. We travel to two of five possible destinations-Cranbrook, Kelowna, Prince George, Vancouver, or Victoria-and we conduct break-out sessions to complement Faye's main presentation, Leadership for Learning. These amazing
people are from all over British Columbia and Yukon, including Comox, Smithers, Christina Lakes, Prince Rupert, Quesnel, Arrow Lake, Whitehorse, and Sooke. We'd worked together through the fall and we'd all had the same dilemma: while each of us was presenting a session, the others were concurrently presenting. We would never have a chance to see each other's work! Luckily, Faye had already solved our problem. During our retreat in January, before we prepared our spring presentations, we took an evening and the next morning to give a quick overview of what each of us had presented in the fall. We were quickly overwhelmed by the immensity and brilliance of the ideas and techniques that were delivered. Some tried to keep notes, some tried to capture Power-
Points and videos on flash drives, and everyone walked away with something. For days
after, I tried to remember all the big ideas, but soon, I realized the biggest idea of all. Each of the presentations was unique and pushed pedagogy to new depths, but the fact that each of them was predicated on a foundation of literacy, engagement, and researched-based practice was what made them all interrelated. I learned that it's this foundational pedagogy that makes the curriculum come alive and become meaningful to our students, and that the details will vary. I'm so grateful to my colleagues and friends for reinforcing this lesson.

Another beautiful lesson I learned is that the power of children's literature can make even a grown man cry. When asked, "What is your favourite children's book?" I have always reverted to Shel Silverstein's The Giving Tree, a wonderful book, but probably a favourite more for the sentimental value of being the first book that I remember having. This changed after an evening with children's author David Bouchard.

Mr. Bouchard was speaking in Port Moody in mid-February, so I went with my wife and two friends. He had spoken at our district kick-off this year and I just loved his stories
about how he discovered his Métis heritage, and about his daughter and their love of books and reading. I listened intently in Port Moody; I knew good things were coming.
When he asked if anyone could remember the three reasons to read that he had mentioned earlier in the evening, I raised my hand quickly and boldly. "Success, passport to the future, and self-esteem," I said. It was perfect; I'd just won a copy of
his book, I am Raven. I listened to all the great titles and experiences Mr. Bouchard shared, and toward the end of the evening, someone asked for the title of a powerful piece of children's literature. Mr. Bouchard reflected only briefly before he told us how he couldn't read The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane, by Kate Dicamillo, without weeping. I asked my wife to write that title down and the challenge was on!

The book arrived a few days later and I read half of it Friday evening and started the last part Saturday morning. I had a lump in my throat toward the end, but weep, really
weep? I consider myself as manly as any other man who avoids sweating and getting dirty. I started the last page. I finished the last page. My wife glanced up from her book to see a grown man with tears streaming down his cheeks! I love that book and will call it my favourite until a new favourite embraces me. I re-learned that children's books
aren't just teaching tools for my high school students to learn about theme and character. I learned that sometimes beautiful writing can indeed be a mystery, not to be analyzed- just to be enjoyed.

So the pressure is assuaged. The baby's room is well on its way to completion; it is, like most things in life, starting that is the most difficult. The pressure of fatherhood,  though still a nebulous source of anxiety, doesn't have to include finite lessons and expectations for learning. So as we look ahead, I hope you'll join me and a soon-to-be new face, yet to be introduced, as we see things through fresh eyes. I hope you keep learning and keep perfecting your practice.

Matt Rosati for Joanne Panas
and the BCTELA Executive

Joanne Panas is a coeditor of English Practice. She teaches English part-time at McRoberts Secondary in Richmond, and is pursuing writing, her other passion, on her so-called days off." 

The cover art for this issue is a piece by one of my English 11 students, Rachel Yang. It was part of a unit we did this year around the essential question "How can we make sense of the darkness in humanity?" The specific task for which Rachel did this piece was called "3-Word Thinking." In this task, students chose three words from the following list to define, explain, and explore in terms of its uses, associations, and connotations: violence, conflict, pain, darkness or destruction. For one of the words, they did a mind map; for another word, they wrote a descriptive piece; and for the third word, they created a visual with a written explanation. Earlier in the unit, students had been introduced to an online scrapbooking site (scrapblog.com) and many of them, including Rachel, took advantage of this new skill for the visual part of this assignment.

 

Explanation of the Visual

Here, Rachel explains the meaning of the images in her visual:

This collage is my understanding of darkness. Darkness means obscurity,  solitude and suffering; but it can also provoke people to seek the "light" they need and bring out the best in others.

Amidst all the dark parts of the background, there is a thin white line in the centre to represent the concept of "although it is hard to find, there is always hope and light around darkness." The man sitting hunched over and the woman with the wine glass and pills are meant to represent darkness manifesting itself in depression and addictions. The figures and silhouette of people holding hands is to show that some people with darkness inside seek therapy from family, friends and other people. It can also represent the reverse-that family, friends and others seek to help the ones who are in darkness. Aside from therapy and seeking others' help, most embodiments of darkness need time to heal, which is represented by the clock. The angel wing on the woman symbolizes that by going through darkness (in this case, addiction) it can bring out the best in others who wish to help those in need.

Humanity's belief in darkness is that it's the opposite of light, that darkness is evil and light is good. The contrast of dark and light throughout the whole collage- notably the title and the yin yang symbol-is to constantly point out the belief of good and evil, and that darkness is necessary to distinguish between good and evil. The bat underneath the ‘Darkness' words is simply to represent society's vision of darkness in bats and vampires; it also added a nice subtle touch to the collage.

Lynn Fels is Assistant Professor at SFU. Her research interests are performance and technology, performative inquiry, and teacher education. She and co-author George Belliveau recently published Exploring Curriculum: Performative Inquiry, Role Drama, and Learning.

The story that follows was told to me by a colleague of a grade twelve English teacher who had taken his students outside into the playground of the elementary school next door. “Take time to explore the playground,” he tells them, “the swings, the climbing bars, the slide.” It was, as he tells my friend later, a curious sight, witnessing his grade twelve students, on the cusp of adulthood, playing, shouting, laughing, calling to each other, as they scrambled up ladders, swung into the blue sky, and slid down the slide. “Back to the classroom,” he yells, as the elementary school recess bell rings, and the playground is swarmed by wide-eyed children, who stutter to a stop at the sight of high school students occupying their playground.

Later, as the students bend to the task of writing poetry, the teacher spots one young woman, staring out the window, tears on her cheeks. “What is it?” he asks, coming to her side. She is one of his top students, an insightful debater, a conscientious learner who consistently writes A+ essays. As well as being the captain of the soccer team, she is president of the student council and an accomplished pianist. “I can’t remember,” she whispers, her eyes welling with tears, “the last time I played.”

Driven towards excellence, have we forgotten the value of play within teaching and learning environments? Has play been abandoned on the playground, our students and ourselves locked inside classrooms, staring wistfully out the window? As philosopher David Appelbaum calls such a moment, the action of a student’s tears is a “stop”—a moment of risk, a moment of opportunity. What are the moments that call us to attention, the stops that give us pause in the busyness of our lives, to tell us that something is wrong, that we must respond? This young woman’s tears in her secondary English classroom call us to action. How are we to respond to our children in new ways, if we are to realize the wellbeing of the present and future generations? As Hannah Arendt (1961) requires of educators, we must love children enough “to engage them in the world’s renewal.” The question is, how are we engaging our children, and are their voices, the tears they shed, the stories they yearn to tell, those to which we listen? What is lost when a child no longer has time for play?

And, now months later, I find myself asking, “When was the last time I played?” As an exhausted academic scrambling up the pre-tenure path, teaching in a pre-service teacher education program, working with graduate students, editing a journal, responding to endless emails, I ask myself, “When do I schedule time for play within my work day?” And more miserably, “Who has time for play?”

In an earlier article (Update, Vol. 49, 2, Fall 2007), I introduced performative inquiry as a way to engage students in collaborative explorations across the curriculum, with a focus on language arts. Performative inquiry invites a stance of inquiry, an embodied exploration of curricular concerns, issues, assigned texts, communal narratives, and lived experience. Performative inquiry involves students in performative activities (e.g. tableaux, visualizations, scene creation, writing-in-role, playbuilding, role drama, multi-media creations) as a means of learning about themselves in relationship to the world and each other. The ambition of performative inquiry, as I wrote, is not to simply “put on a play” or expose students to the arts, but to engage students within curricular spaces of learning through collaborative, critical and creative inquiry and reflection.

But when I invite teachers to consider bringing performative inquiry into their own classrooms with questions like, “Why don’t you do role drama with your students? Or create a play about an issue you are exploring in social studies?” I often meet with reluctance. The constant refrain is, “There’s not enough time.” And yet, I know the powerful curricular, communal, and personal learning that comes to educators who engage in performative inquiry with their students. How might we learn to give ourselves permission to set aside the curricular “shoulds” and trust in the learning that comes through the play that performative inquiry invites?

And so I give my M.Ed. students, teachers all, an assignment: Design and do a role drama with your students. Report back to me in three weeks.

 

 Sunnyvale: A Town Revisited

“I wonder if you could give me the name and address of the lawyer that you work with as I anticipate some legal technicalities that are beyond the limited capabilities of our town council. HealthCo promises to be a challenging but fruitful endeavor—but we need to have an iron-clad contract before I sign any final agreement.” — memo from Mayor of Sunnyvale to town councilor

I designed the role drama, Sunnyvale, with a group of student teachers several years ago. It was our vehicle into multiple teacher education classes to introduce the value of role drama as a way of engaging secondary and elementary students in a variety of language arts activities. As we developed the role drama and played it out multiple times that winter and spring, the benefits of role drama became obvious: promotion of critical and creative thinking, collaborative problem-solving, opportunities for oral speech, exploration of multiple perspectives and embodied decision-making through play.

Participants were largely enthusiastic, often remaining in role through the fifteen-minute break we built into the role drama, arguing with each other, trying to find solutions. My experience is that many of those who initially resist find their way into role drama at various levels of engagement, whether through observing others, or reflecting on the decisions taken or getting caught up in an interview when approached by a reporter. Those reluctant to speak in a large group often enjoy the one-on-one or small group conversations that the role drama invites; others find their voice during the writing-inrole activity. As one participant during a recent Sunnyvale role drama described, first, she felt uncomfortable taking on a role, feeling as if she was only acting as the role of an environmentalist, but by the end of the role drama, she was an environmentalist arguing passionately for her vision of Sunnyvale.

The Sunnyvale role drama involves a variety of community interest groups: arts committee, entrepreneurs, residential developers, playground architects, town council members, environmentalists, seniors and neighbours who live in the area, and reporters. All are invited to a town hall meeting by the mayor to discuss Site #39, an undeveloped plot of land in the middle of town. The mayor, having won a recent election on a platform of “communication, collaboration, consensus,” encourages everyone to create a community plan for Site #39 that will address everyone’s needs. The groups of students-in-role are encouraged to consult with each other, discuss various solutions, and try to persuade others to their point of view, or as often happens, find a compromise that suits everyone. Sunnyvale is financially suffering due to the shutdown of the local Kraft Dinner factory and so the mayor tells them to come up with a plan that will “put Sunnyvale on the map” and (as an aside) money in the town coffers.1

This meeting is followed by a news broadcast during which Sunnyvale citizens are interviewed, with reporters highlighting key areas of agreement and conflict, (this activity often leads to prolonged discussion about the role of the media and its representation of issues). Then three participants are invited to take on new roles, this time as the CEO, accountant, and scientist of a pharmaceutical company. Inevitably, their reception at the press announcement is unfavourable; there is a flurry of questions fielded by the three along with the mayor who is accused of not consulting with the people of Sunnyvale (this activity is known as the “hot seat”). Participants are then invited to write-in-role in response to the turn of events in the format of their choice: a job application to the pharmaceutical company (there are few), a letter to the editor or editorial, (often someone begins a petition), a note in a diary, a memo to a town council member, or a scathing letter to the mayor himself. I have watched in amazement as participants write for ten, fifteen, sometimes twenty minutes, the majority focused and willing to share their writing, as we read aloud to find out “what the citizens of Sunnyvale are thinking.”

My understanding of the value of this particular role drama as a site of inquiry has multiplied over time, as I have played the role of the mayor of Sunnyvale many times through the years. Inevitably I find myself in a variety of discussions, faced with new issues and concerns, as individual participants bring their own experience and interests and knowledge to the role drama. Each time, the Sunnyvale we create together is unique; sometimes, for example, the environmentalists find their way to a compromise, such as the building of a park and a community centre, other times they call on legislative action because a rare species has been discovered in the stream running through the property. Most recently, I remember the odd feeling of shame and embarrassment, as the CEO of the pharmaceutical company presents himself as self-interested, taking phone calls on his cell. I remember thinking, “I’ve made a mistake with this guy, and yet, here I am publicly supporting his proposal. How do I deal with this?” It is then that I determine that there will be no deal without a contract that secures our town’s interests and safety, a decision supported by the citizens of Sunnyvale when we move to a vote. And so, during the writing-in-role segment of the role drama, I write a memo to one of my town councilors requesting the name of her lawyer.

Each time I am the mayor of Sunnyvale, I gain a new insight into what matters, how my engagement with others influences the outcome (or not), insights that spill into our post role drama discussions as we reflect about the choices we made in role, and in turn, talk about how we engage within our communities outside the classroom (the role drama was based on a land development project in my neighbourhood). While we can only draw upon our prior knowledge, our experiences, and what we imagine, these role dramas inevitably, uncannily touch the truth of our being in action, if only for a moment, a stop that calls our attention to what matters, what is absent, what is present.2 As Appelbaum writes,

Between closing and beginning lives a gap, a caesura, a discontinuity. The betweenness is a hinge that belongs to neither one nor the other. It is neither poised nor unpoised, yet moves both ways...It is the stop.3

So it is. Our Sunnyvale role drama reminds us that seniors have stories to tell, that they have contributed and continue to contribute to the narrative and work of the town; yet in our role drama, they are often unheard, not consulted, ignored. We have at times voiced condemnation of the mayor’s proposal of the pharmaceutical company and then felt shame, when we realize that we have judged him too quickly as he announces his resignation, “I have tried to do what is best for this town; I’ve stayed awake hours at night trying to think of a solution; it hurts me to think that the townspeople believe I deliberately tried to cheat them.” As one participant commented in reflection after all the townspeople in Sunnyvale ganged up against the mayor, “We immediately judged him as acting in his own interests. Instead of trying to work things out together, we just blamed the mayor. It was only when he announced his resignation that I understood how much he cared for Sunnyvale.” During our debriefing, we have talked about the important role of conflict resolution, and how we often judge others without knowing how they truly feel, or what motivations lay behind actions we so quickly reject.

We have learned to listen for hidden agendas, interpret motivations behind words, understand issues from multiple perspectives, and ask questions of what we had taken for granted. Curiously, the pharmaceutical company has only twice been accepted into the community, the most recent time, upon assurance that any contract between the town and the pharmaceutical company would be “iron-clad.” Interestingly, the participant in role-as-scientist had actually worked for a pharmaceutical company prior to becoming a teacher and so could bring strong arguments to the benefits of such a company as HealthCo in Sunnyvale. We have learned to question the dichotomies and judgments we make; and to see what may become possible through compromise.

 

Performative Inquiry Revisited:The Teachers Report

I have to confess to the occasional bout of nail-biting while I waited the three weeks for my M.Ed. students to return and report on their experiences of doing role drama with their students. What was happening in their classrooms? The morning of our class, my students arrived with excitement, with individual reports of renewed vigour for teaching, with tales of the unexpected enthusiasm and engagement of their students, of the collaborative learning that had taken place, of the willingness of students to write-in-role, of the thoughtfulness of their students’ decision-making, of the absorption of their students in their work while in role.

I shouldn’t have been surprised. Patrick Verriour and Carol Tarlington were proponents of role drama long before I arrived on the scene; in fact, I first learned of role drama, through Dr. Verriour, who was my thesis supervisor, and who, with Ms. Tarlington had traveled the province in the 80’s promoting role drama among teachers.4 What interested me, however, was less the learning of the students (although important), but the spirit of the teachers who, as one told me, had found themselves engaged and learning along side their students. The joy of role drama is that no matter what you choose to explore, the learning happens not in the telling what is expected and known, but in the doing, engaging in that which has not yet been imagined, a playful engagement of inquiry. Not knowing what would happen each day as the teachers and their students re-entered the worlds they were co-creating through role play added to the excitement and curiosity and pleasure that becomes possible in teaching beyond the curricular scripts that so often are our habits of engagement. I had, through my assignment, given my M.Ed. students, teachers all, permission to play.

And in writing this article, I am reminded again, that I do play, joyfully, with curiosity, when I engage in performative activities with my students. What will happen? What stops will we encounter? And I celebrate the learning that surfaces as I ask questions of inquiry and engage the students in reflection. Why did we decide to do what we did? Why did you say what you said? What surprised us? What, I ask my students and myself, does our experience within our performative inquiry tell us about how we engage in the world, what issues emerged that matter, what questions yet remain? If we understand play as an action of inquiry, as an action of exploration, embodied engagement, curiosity and reflection that leads to learning, then it is critical that we look again to ways of incorporating play into our classrooms.

To engage in play within our classrooms is to trouble the expected, to sidestep the status quo, to perform a reciprocal dance of learning and teaching, to rewrite our curricular scripts. To play is to encourage laughter, to explore the underbelly of the unsaid, to inspire new understandings, to engage in “wide-awakeness” (Greene, 1971) with our own learning as educators, to create anew our educational relationships, and to invite the unexpected into our presence, thus “enlarging the space of the possible” (Sumara & Davis, 1997, p. 299). To play, in today’s classroom, is a radical act.

Joyce Carol Oates writes, “Time is but the changing of light.” I think of the many different role dramas that I have engaged in with my students, and of the learning that came through moments of recognition—unexpected encounters that opened up new horizons, that no amount of lesson planning could have anticipated. A lesson plan survives (barely) a 75 minute class; it is often in the unraveling of our lesson plans, in the releasing of expectations, in the escape of the tyranny of time, that open us to unanticipated learning and possibilities of renewed engagement. The learning that comes to us through performative inquiry, a reciprocal exploration embarked upon by students and teacher, if we come to our play with “mindful awareness” (Varela Thompson & Rosch, 1993) may last a lifetime.

Jan Milloy (2007) writes of a moment as being a “child of duration,”—a moment of learning, that, as I have experienced, may continue to haunt, educate, guide and remind us, of what is possible. Through the lens and interplay of performative inquiry, an unexpected moment of encounter between two students in role, or within a sentence written-in-role that pulls us into the realm of metaphor, or an image within a tableau that startles, new perspectives may emerge to become portals into compassion and meaningful comprehension.

Performative inquiry in the classroom brings to curriculum a spirit and practice of inquiry, critical and creative engagement, and collaborative reflection. The benefits of engaging in persuasive oral speech, writing in role, exploring multiple perspectives, collaborative problem-solving, experiencing leadership in role, developing a reflective practice with students, cover a variety PLOs within and across curricular engagements. Within the practice of performative inquiry in the classroom, however, is a commitment between students and teacher to play, a willingness to engage each other in new ways. Whether you are in role as the mayor of a financially troubled town or as CEO of a pharmaceutical company or as a citizen who wants a community centre in Sunnyvale, performative inquiry, through active engagement and reflection reminds us, again, of the value and possibility of play within our classrooms.

Consider this text, then, an invitation for you and your students to play.

 

 Notes

1 The Sunnyvale role drama is described in Exploring Curriculum: Performative Inquiry, Role Drama and Learning, along with other role dramas. See Fels & Belliveau, 2008 in Resources.

2 See Fels, L. (2002) for a discussion on the learning that happens within a “moment of recognition” in which the author understands, for a performative moment, what the words, “a prison without walls” truly means.

3 Applebaum, 1995: pp. 15, 16.

4 See Verriour & Tarlington, 1991. Their co-authored book, Role Play, provides a wonderful entry point into the design and delivery of role drama. See also Fels & Belliveau, 2008.

 

References

Appelbaum, D. (1995). The stop. Albany: State University of New York Press.

Arendt, H. (1961). The Crisis in Education. In Between past and future: Six exercises of political thought. New York: Viking.

Fels, L. & Belliveau, G. (2008). Exploring curriculum: Performative inquiry, role drama and learning. Vancouver, B.C.: Pacific Educational Press.

Fels, L. (2002). Spinning Straw into Gold: Curriculum, Performative Literacy and Student Empowerment. English Quarterly, 34 (1, 2), 3-9.

Greene, M. (1978). Landscapes of learning. New York, N.Y.: Teachers College Press.

Milloy, Jana. (2007). Persuasions of the wild: Writing the moment, a phenomenology. Unpublished doctoral dissertation. Burnaby, B.C.: Simon Fraser University.

Sumara, D.J. & Davis, B. (1997). Enlarging The Space Of The Possible: Complexity, Complicity, And Action Research Practices. In T. Carson and D.J. Sumara (Eds.), Action research as a living practice (pp. 299-312). New York, Peter Lang.

Tarlington, C., & Verriour, P., (1991). Role drama. Portsmouth, NH: Heinemann.

Varela, F., Thompson, E., & Rosch, E. (1993). The embodied mind: cognitive science and human experience. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.

Jane MacMillan is a lover of all things literacy and enjoys sharing her passion for literature both with her students at school and at home with her three children.

Christy Rollo knew she wanted to be a teacher from the moment she taught her brother how to tie his shoe laces. She is now having the ultimate teaching experience with her two young daughters.

 

In September of 2006, Christy, a Grade 6/7 teacher, approached Jane, a teacher-librarian with a question: How could Christy engage all the diverse learners in her class, including reluctant learners and English language learners? Jane was new to the school, and Christy had been teaching Gr. 6/7 for a number of years at the school. We were looking to collaborate with the library as a venue. Further, Christy wanted to help all of her learners connect with Social Studies in a meaningful way, even though it included reading a variety of texts, note-making, critical thinking and discussion, all areas in which reluctant and ESL learners may struggle due to gaps in skills and background knowledge. Looking to develop authentic conversation and create a greater depth in student engagement as part of a unit on Ancient Rome, we decided to try something new; that is, bring information books to the traditional “book club.” Thus, “info-circles” was born, proving to be not only a popular choice among our students, but an incredibly rewarding teaching experience for us, as well.

 

Rationale

Literature circles, an offshoot of the adult “book club” (Daniels, 2002), have seen a sharp rise in the past two decades. However, there is a growing trend towards including non-fiction materials in literature circles, as reading for information has become a significant area of concern in schools in recent years. Students need exposure to a wide variety of expository texts (Daniels, 2002), as non-fiction permeates students’ reading both in and out of school (Stien & Beed, 2004). The move to information, or content- area, literature circles draws the focus away from primarily exclusive attention to specific elements of text, to a broader program which encompasses understanding of the text as engaging literature. Content-area literature circles offer a new dimension to the traditional literature circle program, one which addresses “both the social and academic needs of the students while maintaining the curriculum” (Johnson & Freedman, 2005, p. xiv).

Johnson and Freedman (2005), in advocating content area literature circles as a premium opportunity for improving information text comprehension, emphasize its adaptability for all learners. For ESL students, it is a chance to clarify misconceptions and hear academic language through discussion. For social learners, particularly in adolescence, it is a chance to share and build on their understanding in a group setting. For more reluctant readers and students reading below grade level, it is a chance to read texts of interest at their instructional level, with opportunity for greater choice, thereby providing opportunity to share equally in a group with others discussing the same topic, as opposed to struggling through a textbook often incompatible with their reading or interest levels.

For all students, it is a chance to clarify and extend meaning beyond the written, and respond to critical challenges of text and topic in a group setting. We think it is a rich opportunity to not only enhance content area instruction, but to encourage students in the ever mindful goal of becoming effective, engaged and competent lifelong learners.

 

Info-circles: Ancient Rome

Introduction

We introduced our students to the unit on Ancient Rome using the KWL (What I Know, What I Wonder, What I Want to Learn) strategy to foster questioning (Gear, 2007) and build student interest. Students shared questions as a class, recording those most important to them. In a follow up lesson, we gave students, working in table groups, unusual facts about Ancient Rome and asked them to decide as a group which were true and which were false. These were posted at the front under “True” and “False” labels, and groups then had to explain the reasoning behind their choices to the larger group. Finally, using Gear’s (2007) OWI strategy (Observe, Wonder, Infer), we gave students photographic reproductions of Ancient Roman sites, which they were encouraged to study as follows: Observations (without judgment), Wonderings (questions about the picture), Inferences (judgments made based on the information gathered). We designed all of these introductory activities not only to heighten interest in the upcoming unit, but to further develop strategies and group processes the students would need as members of the upcoming discussion group format.

One of the significant elements of the unit was the concept of developing and pursuing “powerful” or “thick” (Gear, 2007) questions. Students looked through various information books and kept a running list of the questions they had. At various points, small groups shared their questions with each other, and, as a group, picked the top 3-4 “thick” (deep thinking) questions to share out with the class. Christy recorded these questions on chart paper for further use in the discussion group format. Students then sorted their questions into “thick” and “thin” categories, and justified their reasons for the choices made. Throughout the unit, we asked them to evaluate their own questions and group discussion in light of the “thick” questions posted, to decide if they had been answered or if they required further research. Examples included questions such as, “What gifts have the Ancient Romans given us?”, “What was Rome’s greatest achievement?” and “Why was Rome able to build such a powerful empire?” The questions were revisited throughout the unit.

Concept-driven vs. text-driven approach

We decided upon a combination of concept-driven (multiple books in one group) and text-driven (single book discussion) approaches, not only to accommodate our diverse learners, but also to provide greater opportunity for the sharing of multiple viewpoints. Because students were reading books appropriate to their reading levels, grouping them solely by text would have limited the discussion to homogeneous groups. In contrast, the inclusion of guiding groups by concept allowed for heterogeneous groups, with multiple voices and reflections based on the differing texts read. This approach also minimized student perception, and indeed, reality, of grouping students solely by ability. In this way, the topic, rather than the text and its implied reading level, was the focus for discussion.

The literature

We chose texts at a variety of reading levels, with particular attention to reluctant readers, ESL learners, and students not reading at grade level, as these composed the bulk of the classroom. Included were high interest, low vocabulary books, to address the needs of low-level ESL students, as well as non- ESL students with lower reading levels. For reluctant readers, we chose two titles with visually motivating texts sure to draw in those students, as well as the high proportion of boys in the class. For higher level readers, one title offered further detail at a more challenging reading level, with an embedded graphic novel sure to draw others, as well. Finally, we included two texts with material at a mid to lower reading level. The aim in choosing these books was to address curriculum while meeting the needs of all learners. However, we chose the books not only for their reading level or eye catching titles, but because they are clearly written with a number of information features, as well as factual information that directly links to the learning outcomes of the unit.

Info circles

To introduce the discussion group portion of the unit, we presented the “Info Circles Discussion Prompts” sheet (see Figure 1). Prompts included Question (Clarify), Wonder, Connections, Knew-New, and “This was interesting….” Rather than a role approach, the discussion prompts sheets were used to encourage student response while reading that could later be shared with peers in the discussion group. Students used sticky notes to record their thoughts as they read, later transferring them to the discussion prompt sheet just prior to each group meeting.

Figure 1: Info Circles Symbols Key
Symbol	Meaning
?	Question:Clarify something you don't understand
K-N	Knkew-New: Somethingyou already knew OR Something that is new to you
W	Wonder: "I wonder why/ how/ if..."
!	This is interesting!
T-S	Text-to-self connection
T-T	Text-to-text connection
T-W	Text-to-world connection

Initially, we modeled the strategy with a larger group text share, as students read along and shared thoughts. As a follow up, students worked in small groups with a photocopied sheet of text, following the process above, and working together as a group to complete the prompt sheet. Students transferred their sticky notes to a note-making book for discussions. We employed a gradual release of responsibility to students (Maloch, 2002) in the move from modeled response, to small group practice, to individual response activities. The modeling and practice given prior to the onset of the discussion group format was a key means of not only familiarizing students with a strategy and process for stimulating potential discussion, but to build comfort and encourage the group interaction that would be essential to the next stage of the unit.

Group meetings

At the introduction to the discussion group process, Jane gave a book talk on the books chosen for the literature circle groups. Students then selected a book to read. Books were rotated on a weekly basis. Students had one week to read and make note of their responses to the book, both through one in-class period, and during silent reading and after school homework time. As each book was relatively short, we considered this sufficient time to complete the task, which was borne out by the subsequent response and success in completion by the students.

Weekly meetings occurred after one period given to working on their book for the week, initially with Jane and Christy coteaching to ensure all groups had regular contact with an adult to monitor and guide discussions, if necessary. Students met in assigned groups that were chosen at times by common title, at others by suggested topic. Where possible, we placed beginning ESL students in groups with at least one other student who spoke the same language, in order to allow for translation and first language participation. If students were meeting to discuss the common text (text-driven approach), our prompts were limited, with only a general suggestion as to potential issue questions with which they may use the book to guide their thinking. In multiple text groups, we often asked students to consider what they learned from the book in light of one of the “thick questions” the class as a whole had deemed pertinent to their interests and the unit of study. Such questions included: “What was the role of women in Ancient Roman society?”; “How did rank and power play out across varying roles and societal structures?”; “What was life like for the average/wealthy/poor citizen?” Students referred to their prompt sheets to initiate discussion; however, with our encouragement, students moved beyond sharing their written responses if discussion led them in another direction.

The goal was to focus on rich discussion, not the sharing of each post-it on student sheets. We encouraged students to add to their own notes during the discussion, allowing struggling ESL learners to add information to their sheets. In all cases, we closed discussions by gathering the class together again in a large group format, and reviewed information in light of one of the “thick” questions posted in class. Each group had a few minutes to discuss their thinking in light of the question and their discussion, then in small groups share their group’s thinking with the whole class. Finally, students transferred their sticky notes to an exercise book under a heading that named the title of the book and the author, in preparation for the upcoming project that would comprise the unit’s finale.

Closure

After 5 weeks, students met to review the thick questions posted. In small groups, they discussed what they felt was Rome’s greatest achievement, attempted to come to a consensus, then shared their group’s decision(s) on what was the greatest achievement. In a follow up lesson, students met in groups composed of those in agreement with them as to what was Rome’s greatest achievement. After a brief discussion in their new group, each group was responsible for convincing the other groups that their choice was the “best” one. In a fluid debate format, students moved from group to group as their opinion changed, until all felt they had made their final choice as to Rome’s greatest achievement. The lesson closed as students reflected individually in writing on their final choice. The debate was a highly engaging activity that owed its success to the comfort and familiarity of the children in participating in discussion formats. Students who had, prior to the unit, been reluctant oral participants, now freely offered suggestions and moved to other groups without hesitation as their opinions changed.

As a finale to the unit, students worked in groups to create a class book. Each student chose a favorite “thick” question and developed, in groups with others, a page that defended their question, as well as including relevant text features. As part of the process, students worked with others with the same question, fact gathering using a web to categorize response options, before beginning their final product.

Evaluation

The discussion groups, and the unit as a whole, proved extremely popular with the students. We evaluated responses in a number of ways. During discussion, we circulated with notes and a quick scale response sheet in order to record both the rate and quality of participation. Anecdotal notes were also collected, as particular comments by students were recorded and shared after each session. These served to not only ensure we were aware of participation issues, but also to help us guide and facilitate particular sessions and support groups in need of further encouragement. Occasionally, we asked students to complete a “quickwrite” after discussion, in order to assess their perception of both the quality of their own participation, but also the success of the group as a whole. Students also completed reflection responses, with prompts such as, “I used to think…but now I think….” We also asked for feedback on the learning process, through prompts such as, “So far I like learning through info circles because…”, “Sometimes I find info circles challenging because…” and “Learning through info circles is different because….” As groups fluctuated in membership, the support and facilitation we provided were ongoing; however, as students became more comfortable with the process itself, discussions became richer and flowed more freely despite the fact that membership within each group differed from session to session. Finally, at the end of the unit, students asked, “Can we do the rest of Social Studies this way, too?”—a sure sign that the project had been a success!

 

Conclusion

As teachers, we want to develop in our students not only comprehension skills, but also critical thinking and a genuine appreciation for literature. We think content area literature circles have great potential to do this. Content area literature circles provide an opportunity for students to be exposed to multiple materials on a topic, rather than one resource, such as the curriculum text. If students, as Daniels (2002) argues, require greater experience with expository text, content area literature circles are an ideal way to provide that exposure in an authentic and relevant way, while providing students with a variety of reading materials at their level. Meaning is constructed with not only a strong emphasis on text engagement, but also with opportunity to link content with background knowledge, personal connection, and opportunity to entertain multiple viewpoints. Further, where fiction “[l]iterature circles prepare and strengthen critical literacy skills through the use of higher order thinking skills” (Dawson and FitzGerald, 1999, p. 4), so too may content area circles, as students have the opportunity to discuss issues, challenge viewpoints, and clarify thinking through discussion with their peers.

The social aspect cannot be undervalued in its contribution to such critical thinking skills, as “a group working together can construct knowledge to a higher level than can the individuals in that group each working separately” (Wray & Lewis, 1997, p. 19). Students are powerful peer models, and info circles offer a unique opportunity for this at an age when peer power is at times of more impact than any teacher-driven lesson. Finally, from an assessment standpoint “listening to student- led discussions also provides valuable information on how students are applying strategies such as making connections, summarizing and synthesizing, or finding the main points” (Robb, 2002, p. 30), which further drives instruction and provides authentic opportunities for evaluation and curricular goal setting. These elements further provide opportunities for students to develop skills and attitudes toward content area materials in a small group environment, using materials at appropriate reading levels, with ample opportunities for discussion and clarification and opportunities for meaningful engagement with text. Further, discussion around information text engages the “info kids” (Jobe and Dayton-Sakari, 2002) who rarely have a chance to share their enthusiasm and passion for information texts in a discussion format.

We strongly believe that this approach lends itself very well to a number of curricular areas, and has the potential to support a diverse range of learners, ensuring success, meaningful engagement, and maximum learning for all. Contentarea literature circles offer a rich opportunity to not only enhance content area instruction, but to encourage students in the ever mindful goal of creating effective, engaged and competent lifelong learners.

 

References

Daniels, H. (2002). Expository text in literature circles. Voices from the middle, 9(4), 7-14.

Dawson, D. & FitzGerald, L. (1999). Literature circles: Reading in action. Wagga Wagga, New South Wales: Centre for Information Studies.

Gear, A. (2007). Workshop handout: “Reading Power for Non-fiction”.

Jobe, Ron & Dayton-Sakari, Mary (2002). Info-kids: How to use nonfiction to turn reluctant readers into enthusiastic learners. Markham, ON: Pembroke.

Johnson, H. & Freedman, L. (2005). Content area literature circles: Using discussion for learning across the curriculum. Norwood, MA: Christopher-Gordon.

Maloch, B. (2002). Scaffolding student talk: One teacher’s role in literature discussion groups. Reading Research Quarterly, 37(1), 94-112.

Robb, L. (2002). Multiple texts: Multiple opportunities for teaching and learning. Voices from the middle, 9 (4), 28- 32.Stien, D. & Beed, P.L. (2004). Bridging the gap between fiction and nonfiction in the literature circle setting. The Reading Teacher, 57(6), 510-518.

Wray, D. & Lewis, M. (1997). Extending literacy: Children reading and writing non-fiction. NY: Routledge.