Writing with Enemies and Friends by Danielle DeFauw

As a teacher-writer, I notice a consistent presence of enemies and friends.

Enemy #1: Fear!
Enemy #2: Procrastination.

I write for personal and professional purposes and audiences, and no matter the context, I have battled the voice in my head:

You really think you have something to say that people will want to read? You’re wasting your time. What can you add that others don’t already know?

And the voice goes on, but I’ll spare you the details.

That inner voice blocks me. Too often, I simply do not write. I wait. And I keep waiting until I remember my Friends.

Friend #1: SMART Goals
Friend #2: Grit

Luckily, Friends #1 and #2 combat both those enemies:


The only way I write is if I set time to write.

My SMART Goal (Goal #1) is to write for academic purposes one hour a day, Monday through Friday, and document the time and tasks completed with tomorrow’s wish items. If I meet my academic writing goal, my reward is not chocolate. It’s more writing (Goal #2).

I discovered I could never silence the angst in my heart to write children’s literature, so I made writing one hour a day in children’s literature my reward.

Grit helps me meet those goals more days than not. I literally set a stopwatch and when there are interruptions, I stop the timer, take care of my kids, husband, students, or someone else, and then I continue the stopwatch.

No matter how beautifully busy my day is, I can usually find four pockets of fifteen minutes to meet Goal #1, which propels me into meeting Goal #2.

Of course, I prefer to write with no interruptions and some days I do. With just fifteen minutes at a time, fear and procrastination lose their grip on my writer’s voice.



Danielle L. DeFauw, Ph.D., is an associate professor of reading and language arts at the University of Michigan - Dearborn. She can be reached at danielledefauw@danielledefauw.com. Join her blog: Writing Connections. Follow her on Twitter: danielle_defauw.

When I Stick With It by Fran Haley

Writing is mysterious.

When I start spilling words on the page, I never know what’s going to happen. I usually have a glimmer of an idea, as fine as a grain of sand, or as fragile as a sand dollar that washes ashore. I find these in pieces.

Ideas, like sand dollars, hardly ever arrive whole, intact.

I heard a scientist say:  “The beach is alive. There’s so much more going on under the sand than what we see.”

Writing is like that.

In my mind, ideas lie buried under all kinds of daily strata; I sift the clutter to see if any little treasures shake out.

Some bits don’t seem very appealing, like shell fragments that a beachcomber ignores, but here’s what I’ve noticed: The simplest things spark deep connections, reveal hidden meanings. An example: Trying to compose a blog post when I was exhausted, I felt I had nothing of value to say. All I wanted was to go to bed and sleep. I couldn’t shake the image of burrowing under the blankets . . . so that’s what I wrote about. The blanket quickly became a metaphor for the love of my family, wrapped tight around me. I thought, Well, it’s done. It’s meaningful to me, but I doubt anyone else will be interested.

That post set the record on my blog for the most likes.

Wild.

Ideas and images come for a reason, with messages that the writer, as receiver, has the singular calling to interpret and convey. I’m often in awe of where the writing leads when I stick with it.

I’ve learned, above all, that writing is a relationship. It’s alive. Work at it, and the writing will work for you; stay faithful to the writing, and the writing stays faithful to you.


Fran Haley is a K-12 English Language Arts educator currently serving as a K-5 literacy coach. Writing is her favorite thing to do and to teach; she loves helping others of all ages grow to love writing. She facilitates writing workshop training for teachers in her district and authors the blog Lit Bits and Pieces: Snippets of Learning and Life. Connect with her on Twitter: @fahaley.

The Most Powerful PD by Cherylann Schmidt

For 13 years, I thought of myself as a writing teacher. I wore that identity as a team jersey. Mind you though, I never really wrote and didn’t think of myself as a writer.

In 2007, I began working on a doctorate in Reading, Writing, Literacy, and what I learned was that writing is hard. Very hard. Sometimes I wanted to cry. Sometimes I wanted to give up. Sometimes I felt that I had nothing to say. Sometimes I felt I had a lot to say and no way to say it.

Quite simply put, my writing life became the most powerful PD I have ever embarked upon. I transitioned from writing teacher to writer.

I found feedback to be the most important writing tool I used, so I began to look more deeply at the feedback I give student writing. My comments changed from being scribbled notes on their final drafts to a separate typed page. Using their own words, I began to show students how their writing could be improved. I used phrases such as “What would happen if you…” I stopped being the final say and started mentoring them as novice writers, giving them control over their words.

Now when I hand scored essays back, I give students reflection questions to answer--questions that make them read and think about the feedback. I allow students to revise an already graded paper in order to apply feedback.

I continue to reflect on my practice as a writer, and this process continues to weave its way into my teaching. My identity has changed once more from writing teacher to coach. Just as coaches show their novice athletes how to handle a ball or racket, I show my novice writers how to brainstorm, draft, conference, and draft again.




Cherylann Schmidt is a writer, middle school ELA teacher in NJ, and professor in the Urban Teaching Residency program in GSE at UPenn. Her toughest critic and taskmaster is her Pit Bull, Keira. She maintains a blog about YA Literature and adolescent reading at www.youngadultreader.com. Cherylann can be found on Twitter at @ya_reader or @DrSchmidtJPC 

The Thing About Writing by Jennifer Laffin

The thing about writing
is that it makes me notice life.

And what I notice might have gone unnoticed
if I wasn't a writer
and unremembered
if I wasn't a notebook keeper.

Things like...
     A man vacuuming his driveway
     Seven cardinals sitting together on the side of the highway
     or
     The yellowing of the willow branches in late winter.


            Being a writer
            opens your eyes.

            Keeping a notebook
            opens your memory.


I keenly search for artifacts and memories that I can
add to my notebook.

Words I overhear someone say while
in line at the deli counter.

Strange things I see like that lady with
four different colors of hair on her head in front of me at Target.

Or the way the nursing home always seems to smell
like bathroom air freshener when I walk through the front door to visit Papa.


       I record these things in my notebook
       for safekeeping.


Some will just become memories that
I can relive with a simple rereading.

Others may become sparks for stories
or other writing adventures.


Either way, this is my life -- my noticings.

And that's what I love about writing:
The noticing.

When Our Own Notebooks Open Doors

I am a notebook wannabe. I admire the sketch notes from notebookers on social media. Maybe envious would be a better word.  I have started more notebooks than I care to count.  I have tried different sizes, different bindings, and with and without lines.  Sometimes I think my notebook has to be perfect; they have to live up to images I have in my mind.  And when they don't, I quit using them.

And I start over again.

A few weeks ago, I started another new notebook. We were testing, so I thought this would be the perfect time for my students to shake the dust off of their own notebooks.  We did a quick write after we watched a Kid President video.

I wanted to write along with my students in each period because I believe that is what good writing teachers do.  As I was summarizing my morning entries to my afternoon class, I told them about an entry about not forgiving my dad before he passed away.  One student quietly raised her hand and asked me to read the entry. This student typically does not freely participate in class, so I knew my writing must have struck a chord with her.

When it was time for them to write, this student immediately began to write in her notebook, which is something she does not like to do.

The next day, this student was behaving poorly and not making good choices.  She became defiant and argumentative.  I held her back after class, and I tried to get her to open up about what was really going on.

She was full of anger and was taking it out on me.  Finally, after the tears began to fall, she admitted to me that a special day was coming up, and she had not heard from her dad.

I knew then, the chord I struck earlier in the week when I shared my notebook was ringing and needed to be heard.

So I listened.

That day, I realized the power our own notebooks hold for our students.  My writing about my dad opened a door for her.  A door she needed to walk through in order to let go of all the anger she held in her heart.

That was also the day I noticed my notebook no longer had to be perfect.


Leigh Anne is about to wrap up her 11th year of teaching.  She has taught 4th, 5th and currently teaches 6th grade ELA at a middle school in Indiana.  She is currently working on her Master's degree in Curriculum and Instruction at Western Governors University with a goal of becoming a literacy coach.  Leigh Anne has a passion for connecting kids with books and helping teachers develop a writing life.  You can connect with her on Twitter @Teachr4 or on her blog, A Day in the Life. 

Within the Pages of My Notebook by Andy Schoenborn

Okay. Okay. I have stalled long enough.  I'm not sure why, but this post has been a challenge for me.  Wait, that is not entirely true.  I know exactly why the post has been difficult.

It is entirely too easy to encourage others to be vulnerable as a writer.

Heck, I even tweet about quite a bit!

But, choosing to share your writing insecurities is something else entirely.

I remember when I first started sharing my sloppy writing process on the visualizer in front of my students.  I was so nervous, and I worried a lot.

• I worried students would see my mistakes - I am no grammarian.
• I worried students would mock my dyslexia - a love for literacy and dyslexia seem odd partners.
• I worried students would perceive my half thoughts as noticings as crazy.
• I worried students would lose confidence in my ability to teach them how to write.

Still, I was compelled to push myself, knowing mentor teachers like Murray, Graves, Atwell, Newkirk, Kittle, and Gallagher were showing me the way. Eventually, I could no longer hide behind my fears.

When I overcame my anxiety, I noticed students appreciated when I wrote in the raw. It helped them to see that writing struggles were not theirs alone to bear. Sharing my writing helped me understand the moves I make as a writer as well.

As I paid close attention to my writing mentors, I noticed each of them sharing their process at conferences in plain sight. They sit in the front row, notebooks in hand, and capture ideas on the physical page. The most remarkable instance of notebooking I have seen was when Kelly Gallagher and Penny Kittle were speaking with Nancie Atwell.  As she spoke, they both down and wrote in their notebooks capturing as much as they could, and it all happened on stage!

Wow!

Meanwhile, I was busy tweeting, hoping to remember the tweets I like and telling myself I would return to them, but it never happened.  Digital note-taking, for me, stays in cyberspace, whereas my physical writing stays close by - usually tucked under my arm - right where I like to keep it.

When I met Michelle Haseltine, a middle school teacher from Virginia and - for my money - a quintessential notebooker, she gushed over the positive aspects of note booking whenever she had the chance.  Recently, she shared her pages, and they looked great!

Her notebook pages were neat and organized. They contained colorful ink, interesting pictures, and inspirational stickers. They are, quite simply, beautiful works of metacognitive art.  

Michelle's notebook looked nothing like mine. My notebooks are just for me. The writing is too loose. They are mostly illegible (even for me). In comparison, my notebooks are a mess.

  

Yet, they work for me.

I am a big idea person, and I find that I think much quicker than I write. I feel the need to capture my ideas as fast as I can, for fear the words may just float away and be gone forever.

My notebooks are like scratchings, in which I can stay on the surface of the ideas for a while to get them down, then go back, land for gold, reflect, and curate the moments I don't want to lose.

Good examples are my notes from Beers and Probst's Disrupting Thinking and Newkirk's Embarrassment.

I like to arrange the ideas in a 3 x 3 grid using an amateur photography technique called the rule of thirds.  By placing a subject (or idea) along the sight lines, they create a more dynamic view and become memorable. Taking it a step further, using Canva to create concise image resources makes it possible to share my noticings with you!

Not all notebooks are created the same. I wish mine were artistic expressions, but that is not the purpose. Just as each writer develops their own voice over time, each notebook is the unique signature of the mind who wrote it.

Yeah, my notebooks are sloppy and, for the most part, illegible but when I think of it as my signature, I am reminded of the prescriptions my doctors write. Their signatures are notoriously indecipherable and yet, their patents receive just what they need.

Within the pages of my notebooks, so do I.

Andy Schoenborn is a high school English teacher in Michigan at Mt. Pleasant Public Schools.  He focuses his work on progressive literacy methods including student-centered critical thinking, digital collaboration, and professional development.  As a past-president of the Michigan Council of Teachers of English and National Writing Project teacher consultant for Central Michigan University’s Chippewa River Writing Project he frequently conducts workshops related to literacy and technology.  Read his thoughts on literacy in the elafieldbook.wordpress.com, read his student’s poetry on livewrite.edublogs.com, and follow him on Twitter @aschoenborn.

Invitation to Notebook

My name is Michelle and I am a notebook-er. I connect with myself and with the world around me first through the pages of my notebook. It’s no wonder...I’ve kept a notebook for over thirty years. I opened my first notebook in 1982 and it started me on a journey that I could have never imagined.

It’s a journey I want to share with the world. Notebooks saved my life. (Ok, maybe a bit dramatic, but there’s quite a lot of truth in it.) My notebook is a companion, a friend, a place where I can be wrong and silly and wrong again and there’s no judgment. My notebook accompanies me to all sorts of places I’d rather not be. It gives me an escape, no matter where I am. I untangle the world, my world, in the pages of my notebook.

It’s not pretty...well, sometimes it’s pretty...colorful pens and all. Over the years I have learned some lessons about notebook-ing. Here are a few words of advice...Give yourself permission for your notebook to be just for you. Maybe down the road, you’ll share a page or an excerpt with a trusted friend but the intended audience should be for you. It’s more freeing that way. Allow yourself, invite yourself to be truthful and authentic and raw. You’ll be surprised at what erupts from your pens.

Commit to writing something, even if it’s just a line, in your notebook on most days. Habit builds writers. My notebook holds everything from to-do lists to poems to diary-like entries to learning from a book or a conference. I love to use my notebook to reflect on my day in the classroom. Looking back helps me grow and learn and often laugh.

Find a notebook that speaks to you. Right now, I prefer hardbound sketchbooks. The pages are sturdy and beautifully blank. I use my favorite pens and markers to fill the pages with my thoughts and plans and ideas. Find just the right writing utensil too!

Time in my notebook is reflection and relaxation and growth. I wouldn’t be the woman I am today without my notebooks. Please find a notebook, a good pen, and note the world around you in the pages of your own notebook. Consider this your invitation...

Michelle Haseltine spends her days with middle schoolers in Loudoun County, VA. Together they write, read, think, and create every single day. Michelle is a co-facilitator of our #TeachWrite twitter chat and a Teacher Consultant with the Northern Virginia Writing Project. She blogs regularly at One Grateful Teacher and Your Story Matters. Michelle tweets regularly at @Mhaseltine and instagrams at @Mhaselti