narrative ascholarproject 4.12 upload

7/27/2019 Narrative AScholarProject 4.12 Upload

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How to Write a Narrative 4

3. Consider creative genres as ways to reflect on their own experiences andshare them with others.

Developing an Instructional Plan

Prompts:

1. Choose a vivid time from your childhood, one that you remember as importantin your life. What happened? Did this event change you in some way? Why isit important? Narrate the events of this time so that your readers willunderstand why it is memorable to you. You may write the story as a personalnarrative or transform it into a fictional narrative.

2. Describe a difficult choice. Why is the choice difficult? What are thepossibilities? What are the consequences for choosing one option or another?Your story should include description or action around the situation, how the

choice is made, and what happens as a result. You may write the story as apersonal narrative or transform it into a fictional narrative.

Procedure:

1. Teacher reviews key terms and the purpose for writing narrative. Key termscould include rubric elements (voice, perspective, plot, character), or additionalterms from students literature study like genre, simile, metaphor,personification, dialogue, dialect, etc.

2. Teacher leads students in the reading of mentor texts (several mentor textsare included here, but may be changed or extended to include texts that align

with previous literature study). Key questions might include:

- What kinds of (personal and fictional) stories are told here?- How do these writers portray themselves and their characters?- How do these writers convey a feeling of growth or change?- Do these stories feel the same as or different from other stories you have

read? Why?

3. Teacher leads students in a brainstorming (pre-writing, writing planning)exercise. This exercise may be very open-ended, as with free-writing, or morestructured, but it should include possibilities for stories that are conveyed inpoetry and prose.

4. Students write their first draft and type it into the Creator workspace. Firstdrafts might be written directly in Scholar or handwritten in class or forhomework and typed in later.


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5. When students have completed their first drafts, they will fill out a post-first-draft survey (in the survey tool, located in Creators tools toolgroup) that will

ask three questions:

- What, if anything, did you like about this draft of your story / poem?- What, if anything, do you not like about this draft of your story or poem?- Two of your peers are now going to review your draft. What kinds of

feedback would be most helpful to you?

6. In Creator, using the review tool, students will read and review the first draftsof two peers.

7. Either in the review toolgroup review results tool, or with review commentsprinted out, students will read their first-draft reviews and plan the revisions fortheir second draft.

8. Students edit their first drafts in the Creator workspace to create a second draft(saving this as a new version). Alternatively, if computer lab access is difficult,

second drafts could be handwritten in class or for homework and typed in later.

9. When students have completed their second drafts, they will fill out a post-second-draft survey that will ask four questions:

- What, if anything, did you like about this draft of your story / poem?- What, if anything, do you not like about this draft of your story or poem?- Two of your peers are now going to review your draft. What kinds of

feedback would be most helpful to you?

- What did you change when you revised? Why did you make thosechanges?

10.In Scholar, students will read and review the second drafts of two peers.11.Either in Scholar or with review comments printed out, students will read their

second-draft reviews and plan the revisions for their final draft.

12.Students write their final draft and type it into the Creator workspace. Finaldrafts might be written directly into Scholar or handwritten in class or forhomework and typed in later.

13.When students have completed their final drafts, they will fill out a post-final-draft survey (also in the Scholar survey tool) that will ask three questions:- What, if anything, do you like about your story / poem?- What, if anything, do you not like about your story / poem?- What did you change when you revised? Why did you make those

changes?


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Peer Review Format (Rubric)

Criteria 3 2 1 0

Perspective: Your

story establishes apoint of view (for

instance, your ownpersonal point of view,

or one of yourcharacters points of

view) and a clear wayof expressing that

perspective to readers.

This story

establishes apoint of view

and follows thatperspective

through thestory. I know

whatperspective the

author is taking.

The story

establishes apoint of view,

but sometimes itchanges without

a reason. Thepoint of view is

mostly clear, butnot always.

The story tries

to establish apoint of view,

but thisperspective

often seemsvague or

changes withoutreason. I think I

understand thepoint of view,

but Im not sure.

The story never

clarifies its pointof view. I dont

know what pointof view it is

supposed torepresent.

Originality: Your story

should avoid typical or

clichd situations andpresent something

new. Alternatively,your story or poem

might present a typicalsituation in a new way.

This story is not

clichd, but new

and interesting.If it is inspired

by somethingelse, it makes

me see theother story in a

new way.

This story

seems to be

inspired byanother story,

but makes clearchanges. There

are few clichsand lots of

original ideas.

This story

seems to be

inspired byanother story,

but attempts tochange it. It has

some clichs,but some

original ideastoo.

This story

repeats another

story or poem. Itis clichd and

unoriginal. I feellike I have read

it before.

Plot: Your story orpoem should lead your

readers through anevent (or a set of

events). Your readersshould know what is

happening. One wayto create plot is to

establish a specific

setting and situation inthe beginning, and

then show whathappens through the

middle and end.

This story isvery clear about

what ishappening,

where it ishappening, and

what thesituation is. I felt

like it was easy

to follow andunderstand.

This story has aclear plot,

setting, orsituation, but

some parts areunclear or

confusing. Ioccasionally

was confused

by what Iveread.

This story has aplot and a

situation, but itis confusing in

many ways. Ithink that I know

what ishappening, but

Im not sure.

This story isvery confusing. I

dont know whatis happening,

where it ishappening, or

what situationthe author is

trying to

describe ornarrate.

Character: Your story

or poem should have

at least one centralcharacter whochanges or grows

during the story. Thischaracter might be

you, a narrator (whomight be very different

from you), or anothercharacter who is part

This story has a

central

character whogrows orchanges in a

clear way. Iknew what the

story meant andhow the

characters wereinvolved.

This story has

some clear

characters. Iknew who wascentral, and

why. The authorwanted the main

character togrow or change,

but I wasntconvinced by it.

This story has

some clear

characters, but Icouldnt tell whowas important or

how thecharacters were

distinct. It washard to see

growth orchange.

This story is

very confusing. I

couldnt tell whothe centralcharacter was

supposed to be,and I didnt see

any growth orchange during

the story.


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of the action

Style andConventions: Your

writing style, figures ofspeech, dialogue, and

other languagechoices should help

readers understandthe situation and

meaning of your story.For example, you

might use mis-spelledwords to represent

how your charactersspeak, but you need to

make this choice clearfor readers.

This story usesconventions

well. The storysspelling and

grammar areclear, and any

unconventionalchoices are

made for goodreasons and

contribute to areaders

understandingof the story.

This storysconventions and

stylistic choicesare mostly clear.

There are a fewmistakes and

places that needwork so that

readers will beable to

understand thestory.

This storysconventions and

stylistic choicesneed some

work. There aresome grammar

and spellingmistakes, or

places wherethe language

makes it difficultto understand

the story.

This storyincludes many

spelling orgrammatical

mistakes.Unconventional

language makesit difficult to

understand whatis happening in

the story.


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Post-revision Survey

Open-ended survey questions will be completed after each revision:

1. What, if anything, did you like about this draft of your story / poem?2.

What, if anything, did you not like about this draft of your story / poem?

3. What did you change when you revised? Why did you make thosechanges?

4. What kinds of feedback were most helpful to you when you wererevising? Why? Which kinds of feedback were not helpful? Why not?

5. How can you become a more helpful reviewer?


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Mentor Text 1The Bike, by Gary Soto

My first bike got me nowhere, though the shadow I cast as I pedaled raced along

my side. The leaves of bird-filled trees stirred a warm breeze and litter scuttledout of the way. Our orange cats looked on from the fence, their tails up likeantennas. I opened my mouth, and wind tickled the back of my throat. When Isquinted, I could see past the end of the block. My hair flicked like black fire, andI thought I was pretty cool riding up and down the block, age five, in my brother's

hand-me-down shirt.

Going up and down the block was one thing, but taking the first curve, out of sightof Mom and the house, was another. I was scared of riding on Sarah Street. Momsaid hungry dogs lived on that street, and red anger lived in their eyes. Theirthroats were hard with extra bones from biting kids on bikes, she said.

But I took the corner anyway, I didn't believe Mom. Once she had said that

pointing at rainbows caused freckles, and after a rain had moved in anddrenched the streets, after the sparrows flitted onto the lawn, a rainbow washedover the junkyard and reached the dark barrels of Coleman pickle. I stood at the

window, looking out, amazed and devious, with the devilish horns of my butchhaircut standing up. From behind the window, I let my finger slowly uncurl like abean plant rising from earth. I uncurled it, then curled it back and made a fist. Ishould remember this day, I told myself.

I pedaled my squeaky bike around the curve onto Sarah Street, but returnedimmediately. I braked and looked back at where I had gone. My face was hot, myhair sweaty, but nothing scary seemed to happen. The street had looked like our

street: parked cars, tall trees, a sprinkler hissing on a lawn, and an old womanbending over her garden. I started again, and again I rode the curve, my eyesopen as wide as they could go. After a few circle eights I returned to our street.There ain't no dogs, I told myself. I began to think that maybe this was like one of

those false rainbow warnings.

I turned my bike around and rode a few times in front of our house, just in case

Mom was looking for me. I called out, "Hi Mom. I haven't gone anywhere." I sawher face in the window, curlers piled high, and she waved a dish towel at me. Iwaved back, and when she disappeared, I again tore my bike around the curveonto Sarah Street. I was free. The wind flicked my hair and cooled my ears. I did

figure eights, rode up the curbs and onto lawns, bumped into trees, and rodeover a garden hose a hundred times because I liked the way the water sprang upfrom the sprinkler after the pressure of my tires. I stopped when I saw a kid my

age come down a porch. His machinery for getting around was a tricycle. Bigbaby, I thought, and said, "You can run over my leg with your trike if you want." Ilaid down on the sidewalk, and the kid, with fingers in his mouth, said, "OK."


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He backed up and slowly, like a tank, advanced. I folded my arms behind myhead and watched a jay swoop by with what looked like a cracker in its beak,

when the tire climbed over my ankle and sparks of pain cut through my skin. I satup quickly, my eyes flinging tears like a sprinkler.

The boy asked, "Did it hurt?" "No," I said, almost crying.

The kid could see that it did. He could see my face strain to hold back a sob, twotears dropping like dimes into the dust. He pedaled away on his bucket of bolts

and tossed it on his front lawn. He looked back before climbing the stairs anddisappeared into the house.

I pulled up my pants leg. My ankle was purple, large and hot, and the skin wasflaked like wood shavings. I patted spit onto it and laid back down. I criedbecause no one was around, the tears stirring up a lather on my dirty face. I roseto my feet and walked around, trying to make the ankle feel better. I got on mybicycle and pedaled mostly with the good leg. The few tears still on my eyelashes

evaporated as I rode. I realized I would live. I did nothing fancy on the way home,no figure eights, no wiggling of the handlebars, no hands in my pockets, noclosed eye moments.

Then the sudden bark of a dog scared me, and my pants leg fed into the chain,the bike coming to an immediate stop. I tugged at the cuff, gnashed and oil-black,until rupping sounds made me quit trying. I fell to the ground, bike and all, and let

the tears lather my face again. I then dragged the bike home with the pants leg inthe chain. There was nothing to do except lie in the dirt because Mom saw meround the corner from Sarah Street. I lay down when she came out with the belt,and I didn't blame the dog or that stupid rainbow.


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Mentor Text 2

Eric, by Shaun Tan (from Tales from Outer Suburbia)

Some years ago, we had a foreignexchange student come to live with

us. We found it very difficult topronounce his name correctly, buthe didn't mind. He told us just to call

him "Eric." We had repainted thespare room, bought new rugs andfurniture, and generally made sureeverything would be comfortable forhim. So I can't say why it was thatEric chose to sleep and study mostof the time in our kitchen pantry. "It must be a cultural thing," said Mum. "As longas he is happy." We started storing foods and kitchen things in other cupboards

so we wouldn't disturb him.

But sometimes I wondered if Eric was happy; he was so polite that I'm not sure

he would have told us if something bothered him. A few times I saw him throughthe pantry door gap, studying with silent intensity, and I imagined what it might belike for him here in our country. Secretly I had been looking forward to having aforeign visitor -- I had so many things to show him. For once I could be a localexpert, a fountain of interesting facts and opinions. Fortunately, Eric was very

curious and always had plenty of questions.

However, they weren't the kind of questions I had been expecting. Most of the

time I could only say, "I'm not really sure," or "That's just how it is here." I didn'tfeel very helpful at all.

I had planned for us to go on anumber of weekly excursionstogether, as I was determined toshow our visitor the best places in

the city and its surrounds. I thinkEric enjoyed these trips, but onceagain, it was hard to really know.

Most of the time, Eric seemed more

interested in small things hediscovered on the ground. I mighthave found this a little exasperating,but I kept thinking about what Mumhad said, about the cultural thing.Then I didn't mind so much.Nevertheless, none of us could help


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but be bewildered by the way Eric left our home: a sudden departure early onemorning, with little more than a wave and a polite goodbye. It actually took us

awhile to realize he wasn't coming back.

There was much speculation over dinner later that evening. Did Eric seem upset?Did he enjoy his stay? Would we ever hear from him again? An uncomfortablefeeling hung in the air, like something unfinished, unresolved. It bothered us forhours, until we discovered what was in the pantry. Go and see for yourself: It'sstill there after all these year, thriving in the darkness. It's the first thing we show

any new visitors to our house. "Look what our foreign exchange student left forus," we tell them. "It must be a cultural thing," says Mum.


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Mentor Text 3

Jewmaican, by Melinda Tenenzapf

Melinda had the world against her from the very beginning of her life. Her momcommitted suicide when she was 4 months old, and it goes without saying that

her death was a tragedy for her whole family. But Melinda's story brightenedwhen Beverly entered her life. Beverly was a Jamaican woman who was hired tobe Melinda's nanny, but ultimately became her mom, accepting Melinda into her

family and her culture. You can say that Beverly contrasted with the rest ofMelinda's family, since they were all Jewish, but they all loved and supportedMelinda in different ways. This film includes many themes, including ethnicity,tragedy, biased storytellers, and much more.

View at:http://listenup.org/screeningroom/index.php?view=9ceca559045e304ba6ef5b72ea4d6af3

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