210 East Rosedale The Literary and Education Journal of the Pennsylvania Writing and Literature Project

Winter/Spring 2014 -Volume 3, Issue 1

210 East Rosedale Winter/Spring 2014 – Volume 3, Issue 1

Classroom Memoirs

Judoed, Jazzed and Ready to (Re)Decorate the NCTE 2013 ………………………………..……………………..1 by Jaclyn Gruber

My Great White Whale …..………………………….......5 by Bobbie Wade Navigating a Final School Year, Immersed in History

…………………………………………………….……….9 by Kathy Scanlon Falling in Love with Teaching Again……………..……14 by Maddy Kessler

Personal Memoirs Searching for a Space ……………..........................20 by Brian Kelley Secret of Cellar Doors ……………………………...28 by Starr Troup Snow is Beautiful ……………………………………...31 by Bruce Perlman Once ………………………..........................................33 by Eileen Hutchinson

Educational Insights A Sampling from PAWLP’s 2013-2014 Blog

Classroom Environment – The Emotional Side...……37 by Janice Ewing

Physical Environments are Important for a Good Beginning………………………………………………...40 by Lynne Dorfman

Building Community in a Bigger Space – The Library…………………………………………………….42 by Chris Kehan

Magic Cupcake………………………………………….45 by Rita Kenefic

Snow Mail

Evergreen Wonderland

St. Augustine

Cover Photograph: Icy Branches

210 Rosedale Literary Journal The Pennsylvania Writing and Literature Project

A National Writing Project Site since 1980

Director: Dr. Mary Buckelew

Production Editor: Meg Griffin

Assistant Production Editors: Sally Malarney, Lynne Dorfman, & Karen Pawlewicz

PAWLP Staff: Ann Mascherino, Toni Kershaw and Sally Malarney

www.pawlp.org

A Sampling from PAWLP’s 2013-2014 Blog con’t Practical Management of the Writing Workshop: The Super Board……………………………………………47 by Gaetan Pappalardo

Making it Manageable: Feedback at Every Step…...50 by Tricia Ebarvia

Free Students from the Chains of the Bookroom…..53 by Rich Mitchell

Learning – The Key to Positive Energy………….….55 by Rose Cappelli

Serve Your Enthusiasm…………………..…………..57 by Bob Zakrewski

Poetry

Mathematical Angst in Alphabetical………………….59 Ups and Downs by June Shultz Music……………………………………………………60 by Don LaBranche Losing Nouns ……………………………………….…61 by Don LaBranche My Grandmom’s Kitchen……………………………..62 by Carol Opdyke The Bike Ride …………………………………………64 by Carol Opdyke

Lace Cap Hydrangea

Pink and Yellow Tulips

From the Director

Dear PAWLP Fellows & Friends,

Greetings! Once again, readers will be delighted, inspired, and motivated by the works in “210

East Rosedale,” PAWLP’s literary and educational journal. Plump up your pillow or settle into

your lounge chair. Immerse yourself in the writing and photographs of talented PAWLP Fellows

who capture the essence of magical moments in nature, the mystical moments in life, and the raw

realities of everyday life in their prose and poetry.

PAWLP authors share their views in the most provocative fashion on topics such as current

teacher evaluations, the importance of attending professional conferences, and the art of staying

fresh in the classroom.

Memoirs range from the poetic to the raw and edgy. Bruce Perlman portrays a single moment

during a snowfall with grace and brevity. In his piece, Brian Kelley deftly depicts a high school

experience with images that may shock -- but that resound with the truth of his experience. The

power of poetry is clearly illustrated in the poems that grace this issue – from the light-hearted to

the serious, you will want to read the PAWLP poets showcased in this issue.

If you are looking for classroom inspiration, practical ideas, and wisdom to inform your teaching

life, don’t miss the PAWLP blog section. It contains selections from PAWLP’s 2013 – 2014

Blog.

Finally, a huge thank you to PAWLP Fellow Meg Griffin who is responsible for the beautiful

lay-out and many of the photographs in each issue! Without her commitment, there would be no

ejournal! Molte grazie, Meg!

Please consider submitting your writing and photographs for inclusion in PAWLP’s summer/fall

e-journal (deadline: September 15th)

. See ejournal for submission guidelines. We look forward to

reading and viewing your pieces!

Happy summer reading!

Best,

Mary

Judoed, Jazzed, and Ready to (Re)decorate after NCTE 2013

By Jaclyn Gruber

Pocket-sized technology is omnipresent. Keystones are in their beginning stages. “The

advent of the common core” is upon us. All of this movement creates the sense that the ever-

changing eduworld is evolving at a rapid pace. As educators, we don’t have to take a wrecking-

ball to our pedagogy, but we might need to reorganize the tablescapes or maybe even add a new

ottoman. The major theme and content at NCTE 2013’s Annual Convention reflects this need to

reimagine our classrooms. As the title of this year’s Boston conference promised, (Re)inventing

the Future of English featured presenters reworking traditional approaches, creating fresh

strategies, and employing user-friendly technology. Presenters used the momentum of

education’s changes to propel solutions and (re)inventions. It was all very judo. Ultimately,

lectures challenged the audience to rethink and repurpose what we already do.

Presenters with Folger Shakespeare, for instance, demonstrated inquiry-driven

instruction, forcing students to attend to detail at the diction-level. During the seminar,

participants were able to apply these skills while moving around, having fun, and physicalizing

complex meaning. Ever-ready English-folk played the part of students working with The

Tempest: here are three stand-out strategies, rooted in The Tempest but applicable to all other

works:

1. Human Tapestry: after some background on the political tension within surrounding

kingdoms, educators hypothesized about what kind of art might be hanging on the castle

walls; we became the scenes depicted on tapestries, then defended our logic for the large-

group.

2. Representing Relationships: groups represented Prospero and Antonio’s relationship by

enacting one specific quote; together, all the singular-quote depictions created rounded,

text-based interpretations of the main characters’ intricate history. With intentional quote

selection, character complexity is revealed.

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3. Be the…Boat: in one dense passage, we explored the subtle crime of one brother to

another: under the pretense of safety, Antonio sends Prospero away on an incredibly

dilapidated boat. Participants revealed the subtleties of the excerpt by representing

everything from the ramshackle boat itself (about four people); the mourning Prospero

and his baby, Miranda (two people); or even the rats’ abhorrence from the vessel as the

remaining group skittered quickly away (everyone else played the rats).

With Folger Shakespeare, participants were challenged to shelf embarrassment and dig

into the text in uncustomary ways. Other presentations encouraged educators to attend to

common core standards by revamping classroom staples, like the classroom discussion or student

presentations. Here are a few stand-outs I plan on “moving in” this year:

1. The Backchannel- the backchannel is “everything going on in the room that isn’t coming

from the presenter” (Todaysmeet.com). It’s students’ reactions. Quiet questions. Non-

verbal indicators of understanding. Rather than ignoring unspoken questions or kids’

inward responses, the backchannel allows students to text-in their replies to presentations

or discussions, live. Todaysmeet.com creates a user-friendly discussion board where kids

can react. Presenters explained that this might be used on “BYOD” days (bring your own

device). The backchannel could be used while watching a film-clip, attending a seminar,

reacting to an in class presentation or a lecture. Through this technology, teachers can

alter presentations on the fly and tailor to students’ questions.

2. Conversacolor: using conversacolor, students categorize the kind of response they might

contribute during class discussion. They indicate the writerly moves1 they plan on

making by holding up an index card with the associated color. Through identifying the

kind of response, metacognition allows “students to connect the experience of class

discussion to the skills they need for intellectual discourse” (Scheinberg 2). Rather than

having the teacher direct discussion, students are forced to examine their own rhetorical

moves, transferring those same practices—like transitions, for instance—to the written

word.

1 For a list of writerly moves and research on conversacolor, check the conversacolor internet citation. I also recommend Joseph Harris’s book,

Rewriting: How to Do Things with Texts; he defines similar moves appropriate to graduate/research writing. Finally, similar strategies might also be applied toward myriad literary lenses.

2

3. Sentence Patterning (bringing it back!): A university professor, Lindsay Illich, explained

that we often overlook the utility of practicing sentence patterning. She clearly mastered

this herself, as she spoke articulately about the profession’s reaction to grammar-work:

“Current traditionalists” condemn grammar at the “discursive level” explaining that

“decontextualized grammar methods are pointless”; yet, she continues, as academics, “we

should know better than to use reductive representation of an idea” (Illich). Her primary

argument was that grammar knowledge can help students discern meaning, despite

derogatory buzz in the English community; for certain rhetorical moves have syntactical

patterns they naturally take on. Similar to the theory behind conversacolor, Illich

presented research suggesting making those rhetorical moves explicit gives students tools

to create more complex meaning. She challenges old thinking, explaining that sentence

drills (where students repeatedly write compound-complex sentences, for instance)

increases “language dexterity.”

On top of these useful strategies and more, the best part about attending NCTE and other

academic conventions is that it leaves me feeling inspired. Simply being among all of that

Englishy energy sinks into my pores. As I went up and down the floors of escalators at the

Boston’s Hynes Convention Center, I could tell I was among my people. I think, in order to be a

writer or an English educator, you have to carry some level of quirky—it might be a knapsack

full, might be a dumpster. Either way, the idiosyncrasy filled the place, sprawling-up the tall

lofted ceilings. Being among so many people who feel passionate enough to seek out erudition

and professional development was invigorating, yet it’s also grounding knowing I’m part of such

a unique community. After attending conferences, I always feel jazzed to go back and implement

new strategies with my tenth and twelfth grade kids. New classroom practices are like getting a

new toy. I’m ready to play around and redecorate with my new stuff and (re)imagine my

practices with fresh thinking.

3

Works Cited

Illich, Lindsay. "(Re)Reading Sentence Pedagogies in First-Year Writing." NCTE Convention

2013. Boston, Massachusetts. 22 Nov. 2013. Reading.

Kelly, Carol, et al. "Shakespeare Set Free--Act 5: Using the Common Core State Standards to

Create Meaningful And Authentic Assessments for Your Shakespeare Unit." NCTE

Convention 2013. Boston, Massachusetts. 23 Nov. 2013. Lecture.

Motter, Renee, and Pam McComas. "How to Listen; How to Speak; How to Argue." NCTE

Annual Convention 2013. Boston, Massachusetts. 23 Nov. 2013. Lecture.

Scheinberg, Cynthia. "Cognitive Apprenticeship as Pedagogical Strategy: Introducing

Conversacolor." The National Teaching and Learning Forum 12.6 (2003): 1-6.

http://www.ntlf.com. Web. 1 Dec. 2013.

Todaysmeet. N.p., n.d. Web. 9 Dec. 2013. <https://todaysmeet.com/>.

About the Author

Jaclyn Hope Gruber is a teacher of tenth and twelfth grade English at Great Valley High School. She continually

experiments with designing creative lessons, seeking to help kids communicate complicated ideas and think beyond

the literal meaning of texts. In addition to education research, she is drawn to analysis of societal norms as they

relate to the individual self—like gender, identity, and health/wellness. Regardless of subject-matter, she seeks to

research and innovate publications, melding modes with layout and medium, both technical or text-based. She also

likes board games, Frisbee, love, and fun. Jaclyn.hope.gruber@gmail.com

Winter Streetscape

4

My Great White Whale

By Bobbie Wade

This is a cautionary tale. It is also a whale’s tale and perhaps, like Moby Dick, it harbors

a bit of a warning about the dangerous waters into which hubris and acquisitiveness can lead us.

My tale begins with second graders studying whales. A gaggle of eight year olds was seated,

cross-legged, before me on the carpet. Their faces were eager; many arms were waving. We

were discussing the possibility of adopting a whale.

Many years ago, before the advent of “No Child Left Behind” and the sequential adoption of

“new” standards, then core standards and most recently, state core standards, I was able to teach

thematically. One unit of study focused on whales. Those frighteningly depleted and fascinating

ocean-going mammals gave my class a reason to learn. We researched the length of different

whales, measured and then drew them life-sized on the blacktop with sidewalk chalk. A one

hundred foot long blue whale did a wiggly swoop over a belligerant-looking killer whale in

between the basketball hoop and the four-square game. We compared the weight of whale

babies and human babies. We wrote whale story problems. If there is a pod of seven humpback

whales and three swim away, how many humpback whales are left? We read a great many books

about whales. Some of them were charming stories; many were nonfiction texts. We wrote

nonfiction reports and fictional stories about whales. Words like “echolocation” and “krill” and

“migrate” swelled growing vocabularies. We listened to the haunting song of the humpback and

sang our own version of “Baby Beluga.” We performed a readers’ theater play about whales.

Math and science were not isolated from reading and writing. One passionate interest moved us

through many school days.

As we approached the end of our whale unit, I told my students that many kinds of whales were

endangered. We discussed the finality of a word like “extinct.” I read aloud accounts of beluga

babies born with defects that resulted from the pollution in their environment. I showed my

students footage of fin whales and humpbacks with scars from their collisions with ships, and

porpoises drowned in the nets of fishermen. It began to be clear to those eight year olds that the

remarkable mammals they’d been studying often suffered in encounters with humanity.

5

Finally, I asked my students if they would like to adopt a whale. I explained to them that we

could purchase a whale adoption kit through the World Wildlife Fund. For a $25.00 donation to

the WWF, we would obtain a photo of our adopted whale and a certificate of adoption. If each

child (and their teacher) donated one dollar we could purchase the whale adoption kit. The vote

was unanimous. We would adopt a whale!

The school where I teach is located in an affluent community. Because I wanted the

commitment to save a whale to reside within each child and not his or her parents, I emphasized

that each student would need to EARN the dollar that he or she donated. An animated question-

and-answer session ensued. The children wanted to know “Could I walk the dog for a dollar?”

“Could I do the dishes for a dollar?” My students seemed quite willing to work to save the

whales. Eventually, the discussion of ideas for earning dollars waned.

Like any good teacher, I gazed across tousled heads and smiling faces in front of me and said

“Are there any other questions?” From the back of the pack a small voice rose in query.

“Where will we keep it?”

For a moment I was completely nonplussed. “Where will we keep it?” Where will we keep a

WHALE? A giggle bubbled up through my ribcage and threatened to resist suppression. Next

came self-criticism. Why hadn’t I realized that eight year olds would assume that, if you adopted

anybody or anything, you’d bring him/her/it home? Clearly I hadn’t explained the World

Wildlife Fund process of adopting whales very well. Of course these children would assume that

adopting was not so very different from buying. Pay your money; bring it home. That would be

consistent with the culture in which they lived and with their experience. It was only then that I

realized that I had an opportunity to help my students understand that our role in this world isn’t

to possess the magnificent creatures around us, but to preserve them. My second graders did

resign themselves to adopting a whale without having it shipped to our school. They seemed

satisfied with a certificate of adoption and a photo. It was a learning experience for all of us.

They learned to temper their acquisitiveness and I learned that believing I knew all there was to

know about second graders was pure hubris.

6

The days of thematic teaching are a warm, hazy memory. This week my principal evaluated me

using the state’s new teacher evaluation system. This pretty, petite administrator looked at me

over a mountain of paperwork at our pre-observation conference. She patiently explained the

process to me, showing me one form after another that required either my input or hers. One

form, titled “Domain 4a: Reflecting on Teaching,” requires us both to choose appropriate boxes

with descriptors of my classroom and my teaching. The page is covered, on both sides, with a

large matrix. My principal will have to decide, for instance, whether “Little instructional time is

lost due to classroom routines and procedures” or “Students contribute to the seamless operation

of classroom routines and procedures . . .” When my principal has made her choice amongst the

many boxes in the matrix, she’ll be able to assign a number, a grade, a descriptor, to me as a

teacher.

Autumn Creek

7

Something in me rebels at being reduced to a number. The classroom synergy is a VERY

complicated thing. It varies from year to year and from day to day. Some factors in the product

are beyond my control. I wonder if studying this matrix and striving for a “seamless operation”

will really make me a better teacher? I KNOW that I inspired children to learn in the past. I saw

the excitement on their faces, felt the “Ah-hah” with them when they’d mastered something.

Does that sound conceited? It does. It sounds conceited to me. And maybe that’s the problem.

The teachers I know are fairly humble folk. They don’t seem inclined to rise up and shout “I

KNOW I’ve been reaching kids! I KNOW I’m a good teacher!” Seems too much like hubris. I

think the real hubris lies in the assumption that you can reduce a dedicated, passionate

professional to a number.

Paul Tough has argued that character - not cognition - is central to success. I believe that. Do

you? If so, who was the better teacher, the one who was concerned about whether her students

had developed a reverence for life in its many forms on this planet, or the teacher who is

preoccupied with the “seamless” distribution of materials? I’m afraid an imprimatur of

“DISTINGUISHED” may be my great white whale. Instinct tells me it’s dangerous to make that

my preoccupation and so I’ll keep my focus on the children and on what I’m teaching and let the

domains fall where they may.

About the Author

Bobbie Wade (Writing Fellow, 2010) is in her 22nd year of teaching second grade in the Radnor Township School

District. She loves encouraging seven-year-olds to read and write, but is also passionate about teaching math. She

has taught math methods courses at Cabrini College and Rosemont College. Bobbie graduated from the College of

William and Mary in Williamsburg, Virginia with honors in English Literature. She earned her M.Ed. at Cabrini

College. Bobbie’s two grown sons are her greatest source of pride and joy. She lives in Paoli, and if you look up

some back issues of Main Line Today, you might find a couple of Bobbie’s essays. B32755@aol.com

8

Navigating a Final School Year, Immersed in History

By Kathy Scanlon

Launching my 35th

year of teaching, I informed my eternally patient husband that I

needed two breaks in the calendar to make it through June, followed by a long summer weekend.

My strategy for surviving the entire year was simple: plan and execute mini war history

adventures for the winter break, spring break, and the Fourth of July. My husband agreed, as

long as I planned the entire trio of itineraries – as usual. Done deal!

Winter spirited us up to Quebec City, replete with French and Indian War history.

Quebec’s Plains of Abraham, where both General Montcalm and General Wolfe suffered mortal

wounds, determined the fates of Canada and America, so we marched across fields of snow to

examine Farmer Abraham’s field. A Southern Comfort Manhattan on-the-rocks at the Chateau

Frontenac, perched above the mighty St. Lawrence River’s cascade of ice rocks offered a brief

respite from the chill. We hiked the heights above the St. Lawrence in the snow, visited the

Museé de la Civilization for a Samurai exhibit, and sampled several French Canadian culinary

delights -- including wild boar. We perused the tiny, impressive French and Indian War

Museum, where I purchased a biography illustrating striking similarities between Wolfe and

Montcalm. I navigated with my Parisian French, a real workout for my subjects and myself!

Spring brought us Civil War history tours of Tennessee and Mississippi, our ultimate

destination: Shiloh National Battlefield and Park and my reading Herman Melville’s requiem

“Shiloh” beside

“The church so lone, the log-built one,

That echoed to many a parting groan

And parting prayer.”

We sampled several rounds of Southern biscuits and gravy, and the world’s sweetest

sweet potatoes … presented to me at one restaurant, along with half a stick of butter! I tasted

Mississippi River stones, packaged gourmet jellybeans. “Kiss my grits” became my mantra –

they warmed me after trekking through acres of damp, clammy battlefield.

We sampled a Grand Ole Opry live radio musical revue and the Parthenon in Nashville,

and visited William Faulkner’s Rowan Oak homestead in Oxford, Mississippi with great

reverence. We even stopped at the Peabody Hotel to observe the infamous wild Peabody Ducks

9

parading from their lobby fountain and pool into their penthouse bound elevator, as we sipped

Lynchburg Lemonade while the duck stars elicited generous applause.

We toured the town of Corinth, once we discovered a significant battle had occurred

there at the railroad crossroads. My husband tasted their iconic “slug burger” at the local drug

store, a concoction one shouldn’t inquire about too specifically. Somewhat like Spam, it fused

soy, pork and beef scraps doused in miscellaneous spices and slathered with Southern barbecue

sauce. We split our first malted together. I purchased a Mississippi mud “bowl” at the local

jeweler’s, where we perused antebellum wall murals and kibitzed with two genial clerks. The

ceramic mud bowls -- actually short, chunky vases -- traditionally hold bouquets for Corinth’s

young ladies, who save the brown ripple-splashed bowl vases for their trousseaus. One clerk

admired our “cute accents.” Honestly!

I must return to Corinth one day, where families descended from Southern rebels light a

candle for each fallen soldier, Union or Confederate, where a Welcome Center clerk appreciated

my thanking her in person for a cordial post-it invitation she’d sent me months before inside the

mailed brochure I’d requested. Both national battlefield centers, in fact, featured superlative

educational displays. I certainly recommend Shiloh and Corinth highly for family and

educational field trips.

Holly Springs, Mississippi

hosts tours of antebellum estates in

warm weather. A brief pass through

this little gem as we left Corinth led us

to the home of prominent civil rights,

women’s equity, and anti-lynching

activist Ida B. Wells Barnett. After my

husband recommended a few

restoration tips to the curator, we

headed to Memphis, where we cruised

James Baldwin’s Beale Street and

toured Elvis Presley’s Graceland.

10

I sailed through a poignant teaching year by June 20, so I’d scheduled my third little trip:

Gettysburg and a repeat stay at a retired physical education teacher’s B&B right outside

Antietam Battlefield in Keedysville, Maryland. It was the closest we could find lodging, at 50

miles away, but we had anticipated sleeping even farther away. We skipped Sharpsburg, as

Southerners call Antietam (named for the creek) since we’d visited the previous year, and instead

headed about 50 miles back up country to Little Round Top in Gettysburg National Park for July

2, the exact date when the 20th

Maine Volunteers saved the Union line.

Chris and I chose not to climb up Little Round Top in the 90-degree plus heat. Instead,

we explored re-enactor encampments at its base, dappling a parched field. Men dressed in period

Federal uniforms recreated the mid-nineteenth century for a few days during the 150th

anniversary commemoration. Recent Federal sequestering revealed blatantly ugly neglect: poison

ivy decorated every fence as we watched a faux skirmish, complete with smoke-only artillery

fire. We avoided the ivy, but nasty chiggers lanced both my ankles. The itch seemed weirdly

worthwhile, as we conversed with folks from East through West, including England!

A few weeks earlier, by June 20, I’d completed my fantastic final full-time contracted school

year, loving my students, appreciating their parents as well as my colleagues, and respecting my

noble profession – teaching every single day from September through June! Huzzah! A fitting

finale for a great career fit. Now, I’ve got some leisure time for planning my next phase of travel

adventures. Our investment will remain minimal: a little over $50 a night for two folks slightly

over fifty-five. Stay tuned!

Kathleen Hall Scanlon

Kathleen Hall Scanlon reads, contemplates, and blissfully sketches via itineraries or reflections,

eventually acting on her historical-literary wanderlust. She expects to embark on “Plan C”

shortly, squeezing out a mini adventure as spring flowers into summer. She furthermore plans to

drag her husband along for a well-deserved escape. More important, she anticipates paying no

more than slightly over fifty bucks a night for two folks a little over fifty. Watch her “Keep in the

sunlight.” Benjamin Franklin

* * * * *

11

* Preview of a follow-up article I have planned for after I take the trip….

My retirement, like an extended sabbatical, has been restorative. Healthy and optimistic, I

am deluged by cultural opportunities. And I’m always poised for travel. The school calendar no

longer restricts my scheduling -- unless my husband joins me, which necessitates planning

prudently.

A general contractor, Chris limits my opportunities for jaunts because of his work

projects. I negotiate brilliantly. A relentless travel planner, I can present a “Plan B” – even a

“Plan C,” if necessary. My winter plan A was an expedition to Vicksburg and Natchez,

Mississippi, traces of U.S. Grant’s trouncing the rebellion, and continuing on to Andersonville,

Georgia’s Civil War prison camp. Ultimately, we would reach the National World War II

Museum in New Orleans. He shot that one down the instant several work projects collided.

Next up: Plan Bay of Fundy, although such a venture requires passable roads for

transport from Southeastern Pennsylvania. Late spring, perhaps.

I’ve scurried on to my latest project: “Plan C.” Limited to five nights by my husband,

I’ve resolved to coordinate a trip to Cincinnati (and Indianapolis, for an afternoon) that will cost

no more than $55 per night. Fueled by our trusty Saturn L300, we will eat healthy, sleep cheap,

and tour amazing historic and cultural spots with the added onus of age 50+ discounted rates. We

anticipate visits to Cincinnati’s Art Museum and Symphony Orchestra, plus numerous historical

sites including the National Underground Railroad Freedom Center. The Cincinnati Zoo,

American’s second oldest after the Philadelphia Zoo, offers both a penguin parade and their

healthy Base Camp Café. Of course, we can pop into the Cincinnati Reds Hall of Fame, home to

Philadelphia’s and Cincinnati’s “Charlie Hustle.”

Indianapolis features the Crown Hill National Cemetery, a beautiful Victorian burial

ground where President Benjamin Harrison and three US vice presidents rest eternally, among

gangster John Dillinger, two-time Pulitzer Prize-winner Booth Tarkington, James Whitcomb

Riley, creator of the poem “Little Orphan Annie,” sixteen Civil War generals, and 1,616

Confederate soldiers who died confined at Camp Morton Union Prison Camp.

12

Crown Hill now harbors thirty or

more white-tailed deer, plus over 100

tree species, tagged for one’s botanical

enlightenment. Downtown Indianapolis

additionally features a monument to the

USS Indianapolis, sunk by a Japanese

sub, leaving most of the crew to face

man-eating sharks. Only 317 sailors --

after 900 escaped the sinking and

explosions -- escaped the sharks. So, you

see, we must spend an entire day in

Indianapolis!

Lodging will additionally provide value-oriented nights at a local Motel 6 or

EconoLodge. No-frills lodgers, Chris and I require a quiet, dark sleeping environment. Smaller

accommodations work best as we voyage nonstop, night and

day. Our requirements: clean space, free breakfast, free Wi-Fi for travel directions and local

highlights. Forever a teacher, I yearn for extensive historical, literary, and cultural insights to

share.

*Your next thrifty teacher trek may just evolve from Plan C….

About the Author

Kathleen Hall Scanlon is a 35-year veteran and 2003 PAWLP and NWP Fellow whose teaching experience spans

the inner-city high school English classroom to the suburban middle school gifted support classroom. She

additionally coordinates the Lower Merion Secondary Summer Youth Program, offering specialty classes in

Gothic/Science Fiction/Fantasy, Poetry, Reading/Writing Math & Science, and African American classes with

PAWLP colleagues. An ailurophile, Kathleen and her husband cohabit with Renard, a three-legged orange tabby

muse, whose adoption story appeared in his veterinarian’s recent online news blog. Her extensive library of real

books renders eternity within her hands – her seventh graders read Blake, too. Powers240@aol.com

Irish Crossroads

13

Falling in Love with Teaching Again

By Maddy Kessler

Though I’ve had many inspiring moments during my teaching career, it was a particular

line from the Winter/Spring 2013 issue of the PAWLP e-journal that provided the spark I needed

to write this piece. In a previous lifetime, when my sons were very young, I did some freelance

writing, and my “muse” had been lying dormant for quite some time. I found myself drawn to

the article, “Words of Thanks,” by Linda Milanese Kerschner. One line in particular jumped out

at me: “I still stung from my decision to leave the career I loved because of the negativity

toward the teaching profession and from my own acrimony towards people who couldn’t say a

kind word, who didn’t want to notice the hard work our jobs entailed.”

Talk about making text-to-self connections! I, too, still sting from my decision to

officially resign last August from the school district I had taught in since 1999. However, my

situation and outlook have greatly improved since then. The emotional pain, physical exhaustion,

and occasional bouts of self-doubt have subsided.

Moose

My difficulties stemmed from the nearly impossible hurdles I was expected to overcome

as a classroom teacher working in one of the poorest districts in the state, a district that has

ranked in the bottom 5% in student achievement for many years. Due to budget cuts announced

in the spring of 2010, I’d lost my job as an elementary reading specialist and was able to accept a

seventh-grade English position beginning in the fall because of my dual certification. I spent the

summer reading books and articles on classroom management, trying to psych myself that I’d be

able to hit the ground running in September.

Somehow I managed to make it through two years in an atmosphere in which security

guards patrolled the hallways, and it was not uncommon for teachers to call for assistance in

breaking up classroom brawls. It was an atmosphere in which math and English teachers were

required to provide their students with paper slips stating their recent benchmark assessment

levels as well as the number of points needed to cross the threshold to the next level; students

were expected to be able to access these “tickets” upon the request of an administrator. It was

an atmosphere in which the administration was overwhelmed by disciplinary referrals, yet it

placed greater importance on whether the daily agenda was posted properly, or whether the

required teachers’ data binders contained a table of contents, than in finding ways to provide

much-needed classroom supports. These supports were needed not only for teachers, who could

barely deliver instruction because of chronically disruptive behaviors, but for the students who

were exhibiting those behaviors. It was an atmosphere in which the term “academic rigor” was

frequently thrown around, even though many of the students could barely write a paragraph or

read on grade level.

Despite the hours and hours I put into the job trying to come up with engaging lessons,

reward systems, and ways to raise test scores, I realized that I couldn’t be the heroic English

teacher of The Blackboard Jungle or Freedom Writer. Just like those inspiring characters, I was

determined not to give up, but the “quality of life” issue finally won out, and after a long period

of introspection, I decided to quit. For many months, I battled with feelings of incompetence,

letting the negative energy of my experience at the middle school consume me. Occasionally, I’d

encounter someone who’d worked in a similar environment, or who knew someone who had, and

I’d feel buoyed by empathetic words. It would take many of those conversations, the healing

power of time, and finally, a new job to make me love teaching literacy skills to kids again.

* * *

15

In the months that followed my departure from the district that had employed me for 14

years, I had several interviews for a variety of reading positions. While I blamed my advancing

age and level of experience for receiving no offers, I can’t help but wonder if feelings of

insecurity and even negativity came through in my answers. My karma finally changed when I

was offered my current position as a part-time, long-term substitute reading specialist in a

nearby, affluent school district. I provide extra support to one or two students at a time, either

once or twice a week, based on their IEP reading goals, and I periodically assess their progress.

My caseload includes a high-functioning, autistic eleventh-grade girl; an intellectually

compromised 19-year-old girl with Prader-Willi syndrome; several students diagnosed with a

“specific learning disability”; and three boys identified as dyslexic. I also work with an

intellectually disabled 17-year-old boy who reads at the second-grade level; a co-worker had

informed me that this delightful young man had previously been “warehoused” for several years.

Every one of my students is delightful to work with. Whenever I pick up my autistic

eleventh-grader from her Learning Center for a reading session, she walks awkwardly in front of

me, as if running late for an appointment. Though relatively high functioning on the spectrum,

(in her English class, she has completed The Kite Runner and Siddhartha), she exhibits various

quirky behaviors. Among them is an obsession with dragons--in particular, the protagonist

Eragon’s reptilian confidante in the first book of Christopher Paolini’s series, The Inheritance

Cycle. Recently, in order to help her with inferencing, I started a poetry unit. During a lesson in

which we explored sensory images, she imagined--while flapping her arms like a seal and

gleefully exclaiming “Glub! Glub! Glub!” --how Saphira would fare in the ocean.

My Prader-Willi student is also quirky and obsessive—not about dragons, but about the

chance for precipitation. She eagerly reports to my room at 7:35 a.m. and, invariably, at some

point during our session, she’ll say, “I don’t think it’s going to rain today,” or “It’s supposed to

rain today.” During our initial sessions, we’d continued with the adapted workbook-style

version of Oliver Twist that I’d found in her file. We’ve since tossed that aside and read two of

the books from Lemony Snicket’s series of “unfortunate events.” At one point, as she was

leaving, she briefly returned to the room, having had an apparent epiphany: “I bet it’s Count

Olaf!” she said in a gleeful whisper, speaking of the disguised antagonist. “Because,” she added,

referring to the ending of the last book we’d read, “remember that he got away?” In similar

fashion, she recently departed with a comment about the troubled protagonist in Sylvia

16

Cassedy’s Behind the Attic Wall. “I think Maggie is going to change!” The English teacher in

me was thrilled—aren’t most teachers of literature obsessed with character evolvement?

Another of my students, a 16-year-old who reads at the third-grade level, struggles with

addiction and complex family issues. Before I met her, I was given a heads-up that she’d been in

and out of rehab and that she most likely wouldn’t be receptive to instruction. When her

caseworker first escorted her into my room, I was admittedly a bit intimidated by her cursing and

complaining. Knowing that she is passionate about animals, I found a heartwarming essay on

thisibelieve.org (a highly recommended website!) about the emotional astuteness of dogs. With

my support, she was able to read and comprehend the material with ease. In addition to working

with her on various other short reading passages, I’ve been reading to her the autobiographical

book Smashed: Story of a Drunken Girlhood, by Koren Zailckas. The deal has been that if she

does her assignment, I’ll read the book to her for the remainder of our session. Fully aware that

the book is well above her readability level, I was nonetheless thrilled when she asked to take it

with her, promising to keep it in her backpack rather than leaving it at home.

For most of my students, I occasionally pick and choose certain activities in the leveled

workbooks lining the shelves in my office. However, I can’t imagine using them as the core

program for anyone. I’ve always believed that if a reading passage is boring to me, it’s most

likely going to be boring to my students. I know that I can still teach the necessary skills and

strategies with richer, more appealing literature. It’s for that reason that I’ve been reading one of

my favorite books, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime, with two of my dyslexic

eleventh-grade boys. Sometimes I have them follow along with the audio book and sometimes

we take turns reading orally. I make up my own activities in order to conduct periodic

comprehension and decoding checks.

With students capable of tackling more sophisticated material, I’ve practiced close

reading using excerpts from Malcolm Gladwell’s The Tipping Point and have even used—with

scaffolding-- articles in The New Yorker. At one point after reading the Gladwell text, I had two

students take turns asking each other a “5W” or a “How” question and was pleased to discover

that they did indeed comprehend the text.

* * *

Truth be told, I’m certain that most of my previous middle school students would be as

delightful to work with as my current students, given the luxury of one-on-one support. I know

17

this because some of the very same kids who nearly brought me to tears when I was trying to

teach in the classroom gave me “goosebumps” moments during conversations with them while

they were serving detention. Most of them had grown up in single-parent households, their

fathers incarcerated or otherwise out of the picture. Most likely their mothers were too tired

from trying to make ends meet to read them bedtime stories. One student who had the dubious

honor of being a “frequent flyer” on the suspension list was on the autistic spectrum and in the

foster system; he failed my English class miserably. It wasn’t until May that his case worker

emailed me a behavioral questionnaire to complete on his behalf. While he was often the bane of

my existence during my Period 1-2 block, he was a total sweetheart after school.

My current job has been extremely therapeutic. My passion for finding materials and

employing strategies to fit the instructional needs of each student has been re-ignited, as has my

love for teaching reading and writing. I’ve also regained my confidence in the professional

decisions that I make.

Until recently, I believed that there was some kind of dichotomy between “remedial” and

“special ed” kids. In my previous district, once kids were “identified” and given IEP’s, they were

removed from my roster and assigned to special education teachers. Sure, such identified

students meet certain well-established criteria that average struggling readers do not. While I

know, on an intellectual level, that delivering appropriately tailored literacy instruction is best for

all students, it hadn’t been until I started working with my current “caseload” that I realized that

you can experience as much joy working with a learning disabled child as you can helping

students during a vibrant reading or writing workshop. Engaging, research-based strategies can

be adapted to any learning environment. Unfortunately, my previous job gave me real-world

exposure to what we already know—that the environment in many schools in low socioeconomic

districts is not conducive to learning. Sadly, many disadvantaged students who might otherwise

experience success are not able to do so, not because of any lack of intelligence, but because of a

lack of resources.

While administrative decisions preclude me from remaining in this position—they are

requiring dual certification in special education and reading—I will continue to enjoy the ride

until June. I don’t know what lies ahead for me, but I feel refreshed and look forward to

whatever my next journey as a teacher of literacy will bring.

18

About the Author

As of this writing, Maddy Kessler is wrapping up a long-term substitute position as a reading specialist at Strath

Haven High School. She will be remaining with the Wallingford Swarthmore School District as a secondary teacher

in their Extended School Year summer program. Previously, she worked for 14 years in the William Penn School

District, primarily as an elementary reading specialist and then as a seventh-grade English teacher. She hopes to

continue working as a reading specialist and is also launching a private tutoring business. She has two grown sons

who live in Philadelphia and resides in Wynnewood with her husband and two dogs. maddykessler2@gmail.com

Lilacs in Bloom

19

Searching for a Space

By Brian Kelley

Tires screeched across the high school parking lot and tufts of pale smoke drifted like angel’s

cloaks behind my aunt’s red Dodge. Accelerating towards a row of empty parking spaces, I

punched the brakes hard with both feet to try and spin and twirl into an empty spot. I almost

pulled it off as the creaking and groaning frame rocked to a rest diagonally across the painted

lines. No harm though. No other cars had parked at this end of the lot yet. With shaking hands, I

adjusted the wheels and then fussed the rectangular, red Dodge between two lines. Locking it, I

strutted by myself towards the school’s entrance with a notebook tucked high and tight against

my chest and wondered if anyone watched me.

Every morning, teenaged boys dressed in cheap slacks, blazers, and thin ties spread themselves

across the cement steps. This morning, they were damp with Spring. With large, cheek-stuffing

bites, they devoured brown bag sandwiches on soft, long rolls. Few talked in the morning before

school started.

With heads lowered towards the ground like the penitent, most read newspapers pinned open

against the wind by their shoes. We never read the entire paper. If asked, most boys would admit

they read the sports section then flipped through the ads for adult movies and peep shows, and

repeated the process throughout the day.

Creatures of habit, today was no different. They read and reread the same three articles all day:

Marty Bystrom pitched another lousy game for the Phillies, the Sixers admitted dreaming of

drafting Michael Jordan, and the Soviets withdrew from the summer Olympics. Later, most of

the boys would buy a second lunch from the cafeteria and spread their newspapers open on the

lunch table and stare at the Phillies box score again, combing the numbers and then memorizing

them.

20

During 3rd period, my economics teacher stopped mid-class, as he did each day, to borrow one

of the many newspapers folded under our desks. Distracted, as he rifled back and forth through

the stock quotes, he asked, “Hey, anyone know who drove that little, red battleship into school

this morning?”

We were silent; I was not yet aware that he meant me.

“Anyone see that little, red car race into the yard this morning?”

Some hands raised as he bent the corner of the paper to see the room; all faces pointed toward

me.

“Was that you in that little, red car?”

My voice cracked, “Yes.”

“You little demon. That was some move. Glad I was already inside.”

The class laughed and he returned to the paper, ignoring us until the bell rang.

I’d never driven myself to school before today. Usually, I walked through four blocks of row

homes to Snyder Avenue and then took a Septa bus another seventeen blocks to 26th and Snyder.

If I didn’t have change to buy my own paper, I read the headlines of the backs of newspapers

held by others on the bus. On lucky days, someone would leave a newspaper behind, folded on

their seat. From there, I walked another three blocks of neighborhoods to school. If I caught

Septa just right, I could make it in an hour, but public transportation didn’t always run on time,

and sometimes crowded buses would cruise past us inexplicably.

Classes switched and the halls filled with bodies and noise that sloshed in all directions like

floodwaters rushing through narrow spaces. Hustling to our next classroom, we tucked pencils

and pens behind our ears because no one would be caught dead with a pocket protector. And for

boys who seemed to carelessly scrunch up the sleeves of blazers and damage shirt collars by

21

flipping them up, we kept our shirts clean. For the fear of stray ink, no pen tip would come close

to touching our shirts. Irrespective of weekday or weekend, some guys religiously pressed their

clothing before leaving the house: denim jeans, Polo shirts, cotton t-shirts, wrinkle-free dress

pants, and silk ties. Whether needed or not, for some, a hot iron was part of the daily routine

along with a comb, cologne, and a single gold chain.

Inevitably, someone would punch a stack of books from beneath someone’s arm. It didn’t matter

if he knew him or not; if the books looked ripe for a punch, they would soon tumble free. The

textbooks drew the most attention. Covered in brown shopping bag paper, they would explode

from our arms if we didn’t cling to them. Before anyone picked them up, the mob used its feet to

skid them back and forth across the hallway like bloated hockey pucks. Lockers flew open and

slammed shut as guys stole swigs of Coca Cola and belched with the intention of prying a few

laughs from nearby friends.

My friendships had been fraying, especially my oldest ones. Joey, my friend since elementary

school, gravitated towards DJing and detailing cars and Michael, a friend just as long,

disappeared with gyms and guitars even though we saw him everyday. Other friends guzzled

quarts of beer on a nightly basis or asked for passes from class to sell pot in the bathrooms. Some

worked part-time jobs and didn’t come to school every day. Others carried guns and drove

Cadillacs and none of the rest of us could explain it.

My talent in sports waned the older I grew. Anything I had an aptitude for (drawing, painting)

was isolating and expensive.

A guy I barely knew, sitting on a windowsill in our Chemistry classroom, hopped down and

waved me over, “Yo, Kel, your car is blocked in.” The sleeves of his blazer were pushed up past

his elbows and the blazer lapel was snapped to stand straight up.

Since Mr. Petrarca had not started class, everyone crowded the window. Frosted white, the

windows could not open all the way. Heads maneuvered around each other to see down into the

lot. A small white Toyota hatchback idled directly in front of my aunt’s car. Leaning against the

22

Toyota, Father Leonard, the principal of the school, casually smoked a cigarette and kept my

aunt’s car blocked in..

Father Leonard, considered the cool, new addition to our all-boys, Catholic high school, recently

jostled the crowded halls like a salmon rushing upstream between classes and brandished a large

pair of gleaming scissors overhead. As he SNIP-SNIP-SNIPPED the air he screamed, “JEWS

MADE HERE! JEWS MADE HERE!”

Short and perpetually smiling, Mr. Petrarca joined us at the window, placed his kind hands on

my shoulder and said, “You’d better go see him.” Class should have started five minutes earlier,

but I remember his patient smile as he opened more of the windows so that more of the boys

could hear everything about to happen.

It was a long walk through empty, silent hallways. Custodians pushed wide, fringy dust mops

side by side at the far end of the hall. Every surface burnished like a church on Sunday morning.

Occasionally, the murmurs of male teachers bled through the solid wood classroom doors but for

the most part, the halls remained silent. When I passed Mr. Capuano’s room, I forgot that he was

one of the few who kept his classroom door propped open at all times. Scribbling algebra in

colored pens on plastic sheets, he leaned across an overhead projector from a tall, metal perch.

Stealing a glimpse of me, he yelled, “Kelley, you little hammer, why aren’t you in class?”

The eruption of laughing boys followed.

I stepped back so I could see Cap’s face. He was an egg-shaped man with massive forearms.

Thin, greasy strands of black hair clung to his bald head, and he broke balls just for the laughs in

class. It didn’t matter who it was; he fished for opportunities to do it.

“Father Leonard wants to see me, I think.”

He shooed me away as if I interrupted him and he didn’t really want me to answer. I remember

23

his face changing as a funny comment took root. I couldn’t hear it, but I knew Cap, and I knew

he cracked a joke at my expense. And that was ok.

I remember the aluminum exterior doors popping open and slamming against the brick wall with

an unintentional bang--as if I exited the building in a roaring attack of Father. My mistake caused

the opposite reaction. It made me sheepish and uncertain. Furthermore, Father’s back was to me

and the noise didn’t make him budge.

Instead of flinching, he took a pleasurable drag of his cigarette. The long, slow exhale swirled

over his head and dissipated.

For Spring, it was a windy, raw day.

I approached and stood in front of him with a bowed head and hands shoved deep inside my

pockets, “Father,” I lied, “this is my car.” I prayed that he wouldn’t call my family.

He finished another drag and flicked the cigarette before looking at me. A burst of wind caught

it and made it change direction dramatically; it curved and crashed against the asphalt, tumbling

end over end and disappearing into the bright afternoon sunshine.

Father Leonard could have been face to face with the devil. I remember his lips, purple and thin,

held a firm frown. Intense and hard, he looked chopped and shorn from dozens of black and

white photographs of his image. Full of edges and severe lines, his face was cut and shaped with

those long, Jew-making scissors. He was that pale and still and rigid. He stood up straight and

punched a finger into my chest, knocking me backward.

“Don’t ever drive in my school yard again. You walk. Don’t ever ride in anyone’s car in my

school yard again. You walk. Don’t ever approach me again unless I call you; you should be in

class. You wait for me. Don’t ever interrupt my vices. You owe me a goddamn cigarette.”

He really said “goddamn” and stretched even taller as he hitched at his pants like one of John

24

Ford’s gunslingers. Made up of sharp-angled, geometric shapes, his face shifted as if invisible

hands slid scalene eyes over right angled cheekbones.

I blinked in disbelief, “What?”

“You heard me. You owe me a cigarette. Nothing filtered either.”

I stuttered, “I don’t smoke.”

“Oh shit that’s just perfect.” This annoyed him more than my driving.

After reaching in through the driver side window, he shut off his car and pocketed the keys.

Slapping at his pockets for a cigarette and not finding one, he rooted through his glove

compartment before holding up his palms as if excusing himself. He turned toward the building

and called over his shoulder, “I need a cigarette and I’m out. Wait there. Don’t you dare move.”

25

Sunlit Dahlia

Mumbling, “I’m not done with you,” he vanished inside the school.

And I waited.

And shifted my weight from foot to foot.

Hundreds of heads watched me wait through so many different sized window slats. Everywhere I

looked, heads nodded to one another and weighed what would happen next. Depending on the

light, sometimes all I could see were dark silhouettes and only felt their eyes through the narrow

openings in the frosted glass.

I marked the day by the dull, outdoor bells of class changes rattling against the cold brick. I

thought about going in to see Father, but he told me not to move and I feared the possibilities.

More than once I jingled my aunt’s car keys in my pocket and looked with longing at the driver’s

seat--picturing myself warm and safe.

Sometimes I walked to the library and read. But I had stopped reading because I lost my library

card. When I waited for another, I left without it because it would be mailed. I remember the

empty brightness when I was told I had to wait for a new card before I could take a book. And I

remember the silence. Without a book in my hand, or permission to read, I walked home

reminded that I was alone.

The new library card never made it into my hands.

Shivering through the end of the school day, I watched students filing out of the building empty-

handed. From within the crowd, two secretaries approached me. Without saying anything, and

barely glancing at me, both climbed into Father’s white Honda and lit cigarettes. One handed me

detention slips for cutting class 4th period through the rest of the day and the other handed me

one detention slip for using a parking space without possessing a permit. The wind kicked up,

26

and I held to three weeks detention tightly as the grey-haired secretaries laid on the horn and

cruised through the dissipating crowd without braking.

I waited until the school yard emptied before I started the car, but I do not remember the ride. I

remember the circles. And I remember my imagination at work. I remember thinking. Around

and around, again and again, I circled our neighborhood--searching for a space that felt close

enough to home.

About the Author

I grew up in South Philadelphia among extended family. We had four houses on one city street and a few

others nearby. My aunts, uncles, and cousins were children of Italian immigrant parents or great-grandparents.

Coming to this country with very little, they taught their children the most noble of virtues: be generous. As a child, I

witnessed my family share food, money, and time with anyone who needed something. It was just the way it was. So,

it comes as no surprise to me, that among these beautiful, lasting influences on my life is one

generous example set by a grandfather who I never met. Bjk925@gmail.com

Still Water

27

from The Secrets of Cellar Doors

By Starr Troup

The morning world outside Gran’s house was covered with frost. The nights had been

cold the past several weeks and the yard was sprinkled with the final remnants of the fallen

leaves. My little brother and I raked last weekend, and moved the piles to the burn barrel at the

back end of the yard. The trees had been nearly bare; we were glad to be finished with that chore

for the season. In the week since, the oaks and maples had given up the rest of the leaves and

were now gray silhouettes against the sky. The frost had stayed awhile this morning, thanks to

the gray overcast clouds. When my feet landed in the yard it was with a crunch as the brittle

leaves cracked under my sneakers.

Beside the porch against

the house was a pair of metal

doors, the entrance to the cellar.

Bilco doors, Gran called them, sat

against the house at a steep angle

to the ground. Gran’s were

painted a dark forest green that

matched the porch trim, and in the

summer blended with the growth

in the yard. In the winter those

doors were my ski slopes. I

packed the white powder of snow against the doors to make it hard and slick. I stood at the top,

my boots my skis, and slid the whole way to the bottom. It was only five feet from top to the

bottom of the slope, but for those few moments I felt the wind on my face and the thrill of flying.

In the summer the doors were my beach. The metal absorbed heat from the sun. I put my towel

on one door and my book and my tumbler of iced tea on the other, then leaned back and closed

my eyes, hearing imaginary waves slapping the sand and smelling imaginary salt in the air.

But summer was past, and white winter was still weeks away. It was the autumn between.

Blizzard

28

I lifted the door by the handle then jumped aside to let it fall open. The bang as it hit the

doorstop echoed against the neighbor’s brick house, then echoed back against Gran’s. I waited

for a moment until the sound softened, booms quieting into a sigh.

The cellar was dim. It had never been wired for electricity. I started down the steps

holding onto a narrow stone shelf carved into the wall of the stairwell. The oak stair planks were

no longer flat; decades of feet traveling down, then back up, had worn a dip in the center of each.

I wondered how many thousands of steps had touched here. In the coolness of the air at the

bottom I could feel the presence of the woman whose husband had built the steps and the shelves

in front of me. I sensed she had been proud of his craftsmanship all those years ago, and of the

things she had learned in order to preserve food for their family.

I sat down on the bottom step and closed my eyes. I saw him, the man who had built the

shelves. His faint presence was hurriedly hammering, first placing the oak planks across the

supports he had built, then nailing them in place. He was going away soon, I could tell by the

look on his face – determination to do this thing for his wife, sadness at having to leave. But he

wasn’t in despair; his manner was resolute. Then I knew. He was going to fight in the war. He

had joined the Pennsylvania infantry, signed up at President Lincoln’s request, to fight for what

he believed in.

He looked up. With my eyes still closed I saw her coming down the stairs, excited to see

her husband’s progress. She smiled and told him of all the things that would be waiting on the

shelves when he returned. He set his hammer on the floor and pulled her toward him.

The past faded and the woman’s ghost murmured away as I reached for the flashlight

Gran kept on the shelf. I inhaled and a heaviness tickled my nose. Just faintly, there under the

musty smell of the closed-in space and the dirt of the floor and walls, was a reminder of hot

summer days in Gran’s kitchen. The scent, fresh and alive, was of the sweat and spices that were

a part of our days of canning – smells of tradition.

I looked at the shelves – what a colorful tapestry we had woven that summer. On the

bottom shelf the jars were filled with dark green beans Gran and I had snapped, cooked, and

canned. I pointed the flashlight to the shelf above and caught a glint of purple, a moonless night

sky in a jar. Elderberry jelly.

Gran was probably beginning to wonder what had happened to me. I brushed aside the

cobwebs and picked up one of the jars.

29

My flashlight blanked just as I heard Gran call my name.

“Coming.” Loud enough so she could hear me.

Gran was waiting on the porch. She smiled as I handed over the jelly, and flashlight. She

glanced at the light and then at me, head tilted, a wrinkle between her eyebrows.

“Dead batteries,” I explained.

“I thought you got lost,” Gran said.

“Well, I sort of did. I have some questions to ask you.”

Gran laughed. “You always do.”

Spending long days with my Grandmother, cooking elderberries for jelly, and forages to

the stocked cellar shelves were common occurrences that became important in my life. When

galaxy-sized questions go unanswered, traditions and rituals can be a way to celebrate the

enchantment of the universe. I’ve learned this looking back. When I was young I knew only the

joy of time with my grandmother. I had no idea that the things Gran and I did together would

become a strong thread, binding seemingly unrelated pieces of my life into a patchwork quilt that

I would someday admire.

About the Author

Starr Troup is the managing editor for CavanKerry Press, an independent publisher of poetry and memoir. She a

PAWLP Writing Fellow, a graduate of West Chester University, and a graduate of Wilkes University where she

received her MA and MFA in Creative Nonfiction Writing. She lives to write, and continues to work on her

nonfiction manuscript, Long Reach River, from Oxford, Pennsylvania. She lives with her husband, Chris, and her

two cats, Macintosh and Pippin. starrmt@gmail.com

Covered Bridge

30

Snow Is Beautiful

By Bruce Perlman

The party had ended but

the snow was still gently falling in

Beacon, New York; a small quiet

neighborhood along the Hudson

River. The light snowfall seemed

to make it even more-so. A couple

walked out of the cozy, warm

party all bundled up from head to

toe ready for the frigid, snowy

walk home. White lights adorned

neighborhood homes where in

their brightness one could just make out the sparkle of the light pristine flakes that were falling.

No doubt snow was underfoot, about 6 or more inches where the street was totally white-

covered. The only sound one could make out was the sound of boots crunching the fluffy, light

new fallen snow. If you stopped to listen very carefully, maybe, just maybe you could hear the

snow as it swirled and fell adding more whiteness and beauty to the surrounding landscape.

This couple could feel the bite of the cold air on their cheeks, brushed by snowflakes as

they made their way from the sky above to the earth, adding to the gentle softness of the road

below. Quiet... stillness and the clean refreshing white of the night. One glove covered hand

reaches for the hand of another. A heart melts but it does not disturb the snow. Crunch, crunch,

crunch, the boots make their way in the center of the snow-covered, silent street, hand in hand.

The warmth from within leads the pair to a detour to view the Christmas lights from a

neighboring house... Blue and white the lights bring life to the continuously falling snow. A car’s

headlights break the silence, but once out of sight the stillness returns.

Soon, up ahead the warm glow of icicle lights welcomes the twosome home. The night

closes as snow continues its mission to cover the earth in silence, the landscape transformed; the

beauty of the snow.

Winter Treescape

31

About the Author

Bruce Perlman has been teaching elementary school for 27 years and has taught all of the elementary grades except

for kindergarten. Writing is his second passion, next to teaching. In his spare time, Bruce enjoys outdoor activities,

time with his family and vegetarian cooking. He is also involved in local community theater and is involved in a

movie project this summer. The inspiration for most of his writing comes from real life experiences. This memoir is

no exception. mrperlman@yahoo.com

Snow Ornaments

32

Once

By Eileen Hutchinson

In the Fall, I saw the musical, ONCE, at the Academy of Music with some of my colleagues.

With no assumptions, I was deeply enthralled with the story plot that intertwined the everyday

lives of an aspiring Irish musician and Polish piano player in the pursuit of their lifelong dreams.

The integrity of the characters and heartfelt songs really struck a chord in me. Despite their

challenges and setbacks, they always played a harmonizing melody to keep their dreams alive. It

truly stirred some emotions in my soul for this revelation.

We live only ONCE,

So keep that ONCE alive

Follow your dreams you yearn to strive

Celebrate each day joyously

Hug your loved ones tenderly

Cherish the memories with delight

Grace your pardons with forgiveness in sight

Be grateful to God for the blessings in your life

Learn and grow from each triumph and strife

Make your ONCE –the life you wish to lead

Time full of joy and wonder with every good deed

Laugh, love, and live

With a heart that truly gives

Feel the power of words

Rockin’ deep in your soul-

Just Believe

Let your ONCE unfold.

So, Carpe Diem-Open your eyes

To life’s mysteries, wonder, and surprise

Never say never-Dare to Dream

The possibilities endless- wherever they stream.

33

Even with this “AHA” moment, I still get stuck in overwhelming drums of daily

obligations. Now, in my mid-forties, I am panicking that my stars of possibilities are fading

away. Full-time work coupled with the roles of wife, mommy, educator and aspiring artist can be

a demanding balancing act to uphold. And to be quite honest with you, EXHAUSTING! My

personal endeavors and aspirations seem to get buried as I try to fulfill all of my roles with high

expectations.

In January, I began reading a book, I DECLARE by Joel Osteen. In this book, this pastor

distinctly tells his readers that our words have creative power. His message reiterates that our

words and beliefs control our destiny. He takes his readers on a thirty one day journey to speak

faith over your future and rediscover the person you’re truly meant to be! So I decided to write

my own DECLARE mantra for the pursuit of my life dreams.

Pink Dahlia

34

I DECLARE

I DECLARE to wake up each morning with a positive, win attitude

I DECLARE to take some time each day to exercise, meditate, and pray for a sense of

peace and balance

I DECLARE to be a more loving, dedicated wife who listens and works more patiently with my

life partner

I DECLARE to be a caring and responsive mom who spends quality time with her son,

I DECLARE to be an educator, coach, and colleague who listens and respects the ideas

of others while using research and best-practice instruction for all students to reach their personal

BEST,

I DECLARE to keep my passion for music and writing alive by playing the piano,

singing songs, or writing daily in my journal,

I DECLARE to set small goals for my life projects, believing fully in their intent and

meaning

I DECLARE to read this mantra daily for guidance and motivation

Our life fortune is carved by the words we craft from our everyday experiences. We are

special souls placed on this earth for a purpose. As we get older, we realize how time is so

precious. Every waking moment reminds us to live fully in the now. It is not the dress rehearsal,

so write your own script, sing your song, or design your backdrop.

We are all masterpieces, blessed with many gifts if we choose to act on our words and

just take risks. Our words can keep our melody playing so we can always BELIEVE. Just

ONCE-let your powerful words own your dreams.

About the Author

Eileen Hutchinson is a 99’ Writing and 05’ Reading Fellow. She currently works in the West Chester Area School

District as an instructional coach. She is a busy Mommy to her 5 year-old son, Bobby who loves karate and music.

For the past six years, she shares her love for writing by coordinating the PAWLP’s E-POETRY contest and the

summer youth writing programs in the Lower Merion School District. She loves snuggling up to a good storybook

with Bobby or writing in his green crayon journal. ehutchinson@wcasd.net

35

Winter Berries

Educational Insights: A Sampling from PAWLP’s 2013-2014 Blog

Classroom Environment – The Emotional Side

By Janice Ewing

Along with the thinking and care that we give to setting up the physical environment of our

classrooms, most teachers are concerned with establishing a safe and productive climate for

learning as well. As a new school year begins, it seems like a natural time to reflect upon the

emotional spaces that we’re striving to create and sustain. With that in mind, I turned to a few

mentors for inspiration.

Donald Graves, in The Energy to Teach, says: “You, the teacher, are the most important

condition in the room.” That sounds obvious on the surface, but what does it really mean? Here’s

more from Graves: ‘It is the quality of our own lives as we engage with the world that is one of

the major sources of energy for our students. It is the questions you ask aloud about the world,

your curiosity, the books you read, and your personal use of writing that teach far more than any

methodological course you’ve ever taken.”

I had read these words before, but rereading them at the end of August opened a new window.

The added meaning that I took this time is the value, as the summer draws to a close, of holding

on to the personal experiences and growth that we’ve had over the summer and transferring that

energy to our students. My husband and I just returned from a trip to the Pacific Northwest.

Browsing in a bookstore in a small town along the Columbia Gorge, I came across Cheryl

Strayed’s Wild, which chronicles her trek along the Pacific Crest Trail. In my graduate class, I’ll

share the serendipity of finding a perfect-fit book and encourage them to share similar

experiences.

Regie Routman, in Literacy and Learning Lessons From a Longtime Teacher says, “One of the

most dramatic and significant changes I’ve made in my teaching and coaching is to notice and

celebrate everything the learner has done well. When we celebrate the learner, we make honest

statements that explicitly acknowledge and name learner’s accomplishments.” In my experience,

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finding a balance between celebrating success and providing the constructive feedback needed

for growth can be challenging, but a foundation of trust makes it possible to achieve.

In What a Writer Needs, Ralph Fletcher shares a quote from Patrick Shannon: “Risk allows

students to outgrow themselves.” In discussing the importance of experimentation, Fletcher adds

“We need to redefine the success ethic, not just in writing classes but during the entire school

day, to mean not only Did you get it right, but also Did you take a chance? Did you try

something you’ve never tried before?”

My own teaching experience ranges from Head Start to the graduate level. I’ve found that some

things remain the same. If learning requires risk-taking, then learners of all ages need a safe

environment which encompasses a broad view of success and a celebration of small, but

meaningful steps along the way. As you begin the school year, here are some questions to reflect

on, either independently or with a trusted colleague:

*Do I share my interests and passions with my students, and invite them to do the same?

*Do I find ways to integrate these interests into the curriculum?

*Do I share my growth and struggles with literacy with my students and encourage them to do

the same?

*Do I model the curiosity and vulnerability that I want my students to evidence?

*Do my students have the autonomy to make choices with appropriate structure and scaffolding

to enhance their learning?

*Do I use read-alouds (with all ages) to build community?

*Do I use writing as a way to enhance learning and community-building in all subjects?

*Do I use language that invites open-ended responses and inquiry?

*Do I model and expect respectful communication with all members of the school community?

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*Am I creating an environment in which my students feel safe enough to take the risks needed

for learning?

How are you fostering a safe and energetic climate for learning in your classroom? What

practices have you found to be successful in the past? What new practices are you trying out this

year? We would love to hear what’s happening in your classroom!

About the Author

Janice Ewing is a PAWLP co-director and an adjunct instructor for Cabrini College. She loves reading and

writing, especially poetry, and finds energy in inquiry. She and her family and friends enjoy talking about books

and movies over good food and wine.janice.ewing@gmail.com

Ice Flakes

39

Physical Environments are Important for a Good Beginning

By Lynne Dorfman

The organization of your classroom sets the stage for learning. It should reflect your personal

beliefs and values as an educator. Miller says, “Classroom environments are organic – they

grow as we do. The best of them reflect the hearts and souls of those who inhabit them. They’re

never really finished. They’re never really ‘done’.” Debbie devotes the first section of her

book, Teaching with Intention: Defining Beliefs Aligning Practice, Taking Action, to setting up

the physical classroom environment and creating an energizing culture through the kind of

interactions we value and nurture with our students. She suggests inviting a trusted colleague or

two into your classroom in early September and asking him or her to tell you what the classroom

environment reveals about your own personal beliefs as an educator.

Environments really do speak out in a loud voice. As a literacy coach, I was able to visit many

classrooms. In Mrs. Lombardi’s classroom, students worked around two large tables and were

able to partner with a student to the left or right. They could establish eye contact with members

of the entire group. Mrs. Lombardi often joined them at the tables. Students had access to

myriad materials and didn’t have to rely on the teacher to get a ruler, markers, paper, etc.,

avoiding unnecessary interruptions throughout the day. The displays and counters reflected the

students’ work and allowed them to learn from each other. Books were everywhere – not just in

one place. Collective thinking was recorded through ongoing conversations on an anchor chart

and posted for easy access by all students. As new ideas bloomed, the students simply added

them to the appropriate chart. Mrs. Lombardi asked for student input to arrange and rearrange the

classroom environment; thus, creating a level of ownership, creativity, and changing focuses.

Sometimes the best ideas come from our students! After all, the students were growing and

learning new things throughout the year. The environment reflected their growth in

understandings and abilities. You don’t need test results to tell you what the children in this

environment were learning and were able to do – there was ample evidence everywhere!

The classroom environment helps create a passion for learning, giving students a chance to work

in many different combinations of peers, and through these collaborations, students form a

40

community of learners that have developed a trust and respect for each other’s thinking. A

simple checklist may help you get started:

— Post expectations for all students to see (created and charted as a class effort).

— Cluster desks for working partnerships, group work, and easy student movement.

— Place materials such as rulers, crayons, paper, and markers where students can access.

— Make sure students have an area or desk to store their personal belongings.

— Display student work at many stages – published or “work in progress” at a height where your

students can read each other’s work.

— Find an area for conferring and feedback other than at your teacher desk.

Books should be placed everywhere, not just in one location. Some suggestions include a

featured genre corner, a special shelf for duplicates of mentor texts you will use for focus

lessons, a possible area for nonfiction including newspapers, maps, manuals, magazines, etc.,

books collected for author study, a library arranged by genre or level of difficulty (easy – just

right – challenging) or both.

How have you fostered the creation and advancement of an energetic learning community by

designing an effective physical environment? Are you thinking of doing something new this

year? Your ideas are welcomed here!

About the Author

Lynne Dorfman is a PAWLP Co-director and adjunct professor at Arcadia University. She is the co-author of

several books. She enjoys writing stories and poems, planting flowers in spring and celebrating birthdays and

holidays with friends and family members. Lynne has three Welsh Corgis that keep her entertained. She misses the

days when she taught horseback riding to riders of ages four to sixty-four.lynnedorfman@comcast.net

41

Building Community in a Bigger Space – The Library

By Chris Kehan

For the past four years, setting up my classroom has been different than it was for the previous

nineteen years. Having taught in the regular education classroom for those nineteen years, I

made the leap into library media specialist. While I still see myself as a classroom teacher, my

classroom just grew in size and so did my number of students. Creating a space where students,

teachers, and parents feel welcome and safe to take risks is extremely important for librarians.

Most libraries are situated in the center of the school; hence it’s the hub of activity. “Entrance

through our doors admits one to infinite worlds, magical kingdoms, and the treasure trove of

knowledge created by our world’s best thinkers, artists, and scientists.” (Grimes, 2006)

Such a place as Grimes describes doesn’t only take place in September, it needs to be maintained

throughout the year. One of the pleasures I have in teaching in the library (that I had in the

regular classroom) is to share my passion for reading. I wear my reading heart on my sleeve

every day. My students know I am a reader because I share what I’ve read over the summer, as

well as what I read throughout the year. My assistant shares what she’s read too, and our

students know they can come to us for a good recommendation. Putting up a bulletin board that

features the teachers and staff in your building with the cover of the book he/she read over the

summer is a great way to show everyone is a reader. “What books, how, and to whom we

choose to present them determine who enters the kingdom.” (Grimes, 2006) Displaying our new

books prominently throughout the library entices readers of all ages to check out those books.

Using Animoto (www.animoto.com) to create videos of the new arrivals gets the children

excited to read. Oohs and aahs can be heard as the book covers appear on the screen to upbeat

music. Reading aloud with animation and voices helps to bring books and reading to life for my

students.

Choice is a big factor in book selection. When readers have autonomy over what they read, they

will read for pleasure and interest versus reading for an assignment. Getting my students to

understand themselves as readers and thinkers helps to guide them in the books they choose.

Knowing the collection is just as important because it helps me to give direction to those children

42

who are discovering themselves as readers. I love when I can provide five or six titles/authors to

my students, and they ultimately decide to choose one to take home. I know it’s been successful

when they return within a week or two to get another one by the same author or within the same

series. Often they return with a smile and say, “That was really good, do you have another one

like that?”

Creating opportunities for children to talk about books is also important to librarians and

classroom teachers. “To create a community of readers in our libraries, we need to provide the

models and the arenas for conversations to take place through the creation of book clubs, blogs,

and scaffolded dialogues.” (Grimes, 2006) One way to do this is to host book clubs. My fourth

grade team does parent-student book clubs four times within the year, and they are held in the

morning (before the official school day begins) in the library. The team and I collaborate on

what books will be read and how we can facilitate the conversation among the students and their

parents. We also use each opportunity to booktalk the next book we will be reading so as to

entice the parents and children to continue with this wonderful venue. Another way to promote

book clubs is to invite students to join an author book club. If your library hosts author visits,

then the children can be invited to join you for a morning or lunchtime book club and read one of

his/her books prior to the visit. The book club can meet weekly or bi-weekly so the momentum

is maintained and the book is read in a timely manner before the visit. If a bi-weekly schedule is

set up then a blog (www.edublogs.org) can be created to keep the lines of communication open

on the weeks the book club doesn’t meet.

In order for the library to be an open book to the community-at-large, it is important to have a

website or newsletter informing parents, children, and teachers of the happenings going on in the

library. If a library has a website, then links to newsletters, book lists, author sites, research

websites, and policies can be posted regularly. Creating bookmarks for students to take home as

they check-out books can inform parents of the website’s URL address. Refreshing the site on a

regular basis will keep parents, students, and teachers coming back to learn more about the

library and all it has to offer.

In September, open your doors to the possibilities of creating a space where people who visit

want to come back again and again. Keep those doors open throughout the year, and those who

43

enter will want to stay. Consider these questions as you work to create a space where your

students, parents, and colleagues want to enter and stay a while:

What opportunities do you provide where your students can talk about books, authors, and

interests?

How can you publicize/share the wonderful literature (fiction, nonfiction, and poetry) available

to you and your students?

How will you help your students to discover the readers that they are?

How do you transform apathetic readers into a community of engaged, thoughtful readers?

How can you invite parents into the literate lives of their children?

How will you inform students and parents of the wonderful things happening in your classrooms

on a regular basis?

Grimes, Sharon. Reading Is Our Business: How Libraries Can Foster Reading Comprehension.

Chicago: American Library Association, 2006. Print

About the Author

Chris Kehan is a library media specialist at Warwick Elementary School in the Central Bucks School District.

Prior to being a librarian she taught 4th

grade and 6th

grade for 19 years. She is the Co-Director of the Summer

Institute and Summer Courses. Some of the PAWLP courses that are offered throughout the year have been

developed by Chris. Reading and writing are her two passions that she enjoys sharing with children and

adults. ckehan@cbsd.org

44

Magic Cupcake

By Rita Kenefic

As a child, I relished a visit to Gruber’s Bakery for a “magic cupcake”. What was so special

about this chocolate treat? The dab of whipped cream in the center made an already delectable

cake something special. These weren’t just ordinary cupcakes. They contained an element of

surprise and magic that kept you coming back for more.

So what do these magic cupcakes have to do with teaching? Well, as a reading specialist, I’ve

spent the last two weeks assessing students who are potential candidates for small group

intervention. Today, my testing is complete and I am armed with information that will drive

decisions about the nature of support I can offer. The main advantage, however, is that I have

now met personally with over thirty students. Not only do I know their independent reading

level, I also know a little about their background, the kinds of books they like to read, and their

general attitude towards reading. For me, this knowledge is the magic that will form the core of

my future relationship with each student.

On the flip side, each of these students has had an opportunity to meet and converse with me

in a non-threatening, informal manner. During our testing time, I’ve been able to answer some

of their questions and assure them that participation in small-group intervention will be

beneficial and FUN! In any relationship, first impressions are important and the teacher/student

relationship is no exception. Like the center of that cupcake, I hope these children were

pleasantly surprised by our first interaction and leave my room anxious to come back for more.

The opportunity to meet so many students on an individual basis over the past few weeks

drives home the necessity of establishing positive relationships. No matter our subject area, the

fact that we all teach individuals with unique interests, talents, problems, strengths and

weaknesses must remain uppermost in our minds. Steven Layne (2009) contends that the four

most important words kids need to hear are “I thought of you.” As we get caught up teaching a

demanding curriculum, we can easily forget the importance of relationship.

45

In an effort to improve independent reading this year, I have recently reread two standout

books chock full of suggestions to strengthen independent reading. Both The Book Whisperer

by Donalyn Miller and Igniting the Passion for Reading, by Steven Layne address the

importance of learning about your students and using this knowledge to guide their literacy

growth. Below, I’ve distilled a few of their suggestions that I hope will work magic in my quest

to turn students into lifelong readers:

Use surveys to learn about your students interests so you can guide their book selections.

Use them again at the end of the year to show students how they have grown and

changed.

Establish high expectations. (Donalyn Miller sets a goal of forty books per year for each

of her sixth graders).

Share your own enthusiasm for reading through books talks, displaying and discussing

the grade level book you are reading, and even creating a special shelf for books you

personally recommend.

Focus on generating interest and helping students find “just-right” books. Steven Layne

suggests that conferences, group discussions, and regularly taking the “Status of the

Class” are key ways to accomplish this.

These books have inspired me to prioritize relationships this year. Hopefully, my classes will

become the magic cupcake my students crave.

How will you enhance the relationship with your students this year so that they will grow as

readers, writers, and people? Please share your ideas.

About the Author

Rita Kenefic has been an educator for thirty years. She has taught at the elementary, secondary, and college level.

Her passion for growing readers and writers is superseded only by her passion for her large family which includes

her husband, Mike, their five children and their spouses, and their nine grandchildren. rkenefic@cbsd.org

46

Practical Management of the Writing Workshop: The Super Board

by Gaetan Pappalardo

The writing workshop is fluid. The currents and tides are in constant motion (literally and

figuratively) because it’s fueled by the human element. I’m not going to lie. It’s a mess. I know

this sounds like a headache. It certainly can be, but kids need this “mess” to find the gold. Barry

Lane, author, speaker, and musician, states in his book, But How Do you Teach Writing?, that

real writing needs time, space, and freedom.

I don’t have all of the answers because the questions change each year when your students

change. However, I do have a trick to manage the space in your classroom when dealing

specifically with conferencing. And, I’m happy today, that it’s working this year.

Help Board by Night, Super Board by Day

I first saw the help board in action when I interned at the Nancie Atwell Center for Teaching and

Learning. Ted Demille, first/second grade teacher, used this technique pretty successfully. I was

taken aback at first at how this tiny wipe board on the wall almost ran the classroom. Ted used

the board in a very basic, but effective

manner. Like a Honda, it just worked.

1. Sign up when you need help.

2. Erase your name when you are

finished speaking to the teacher.

Easy, right? Wrong. When I started using the

help board I ran into all sorts of problems––

Too many students signing up at once, kids

forgetting to erase their names, not getting to

the help board, losing markers, signing up out

of order: you name the problem, I had it. But,

of course, this is learning. However, I didn’t

47

scrap the help board right away. I wanted to give it another shot. I changed. I started using the

help board in a very specific manner. Instead of just using it for conference sign-ups, I used it for

whatever I needed to help manage my instruction and manage my writers.

So, without any further ado, let me introduce you to my new and improved, classroom tested,

kid-tested, writer-tested, teacher approved—-Super Board.

The Secret: The uses of the board need to remain fluid. The board is not set in stone and needs

to change to accommodate the needs of the teacher and the students.

Tips for a Successful, Fluid Super Board

Write and Erase: Hold the students responsible for writing their own names and also

erasing them when they are finished speaking to a teacher or help is no longer needed.

Placement is Key: Strategically position your help board so you can see it from all areas

of the classroom. Also, make sure it’s large enough to read from across the room. I

almost always meet with the students on their turf, so being able to read the board quickly

keeps your flow flowing.

Avoid a Hoard: To avoid all of your students trying to sign up at one time, introduce the

help board when you think your students have a) gained some writing stamina (writing

for longer periods of time) and/or b) have demonstrated that they can use their writing

time, not only for drafting, but for other “authorly” behaviors (rereading, revising,

editing, revisiting maps and lists, research, etc…)

Order: To keep your students in order, you can put numbers on the board, lines for

names, letters, create sections, etc… The key is to try different things until something

works.

Keep it Fluid: This is the most important tip by far. Your board needs to change with

the needs of the students and the teacher. For example, I write headings on the help board

to guide my writers. For example, I might write questions like Finished a first draft? or

Stuck? at the top of the board. If you want to get more specific, you could write Share a

48

Beginning or Used a Good Verb. I also use the board during publishing time. Just make a

t-chart—-One side says published, the other, still working.

Super Board in Transition

What strategies help you manage your space?

About the Author

Gaetan Pappalardo grew up on KISS, street hockey, and Transformers. He teaches third

grade at Green-Fields School in West Deptford, NJ and writes stuff for

kids.gaetanp@comcast.net

Snowy Pine

49

Making it Manageable: Feedback at Every Step

By Tricia Ebarvia

Conferring with students can be exhausting. Sometimes a single conference can take 10-15

minutes, and if you have 100+ students, conferring is also incredibly time consuming. Time

spent conferring with students is time away from whole class instruction, curricular planning,

and much-needed grading. But feedback from conferring is invaluable. When I was in the

Writing Institute two years ago, I emailed Penny Kittle for some advice. I was struggling with

how to fit all the elements of the workshop model outlined in her book Write Beside Them.

When I mentioned reducing time for conferring, her response was unequivocal. “Conferring is

our most powerful teaching time,” she responded. “Everyone learns best in the context of their

own writing piece, so we have to work it into practice.” Still, time is always the issue.

Given increasing demands on teachers to do more with less, dedicating time to confer with

students can be a challenge. And yet it is “our most powerful teaching time.” So what can we

do? Over the years, I’ve pieced together a system that works for me, and maybe it will for you,

too. First, whenever possible, I’ve thought small. What does that mean? For me, it means

breaking down the writing process (including feedback) into smaller, more manageable parts.

This fall, when my freshmen were ready to begin their summer reading essays, I structured our

writing process to provide feedback at every step. Here’s what I did.

Google Forms

First, I had each student submit his thesis statement online via a Google Form I created. I

then copied and pasted the entire class’ thesis statements into one document and made copies for

the class (I removed student names). The next day, we reviewed everyone’s thesis statements as

a class using the document camera. By reviewing the thesis statements together, each student

not only received individual feedback, but also learned by looking at many student models.

Additionally, because the thesis statement serves as the foundation for the essay, I could identify

any problems before students continued writing.

50

Online Feedback

From there, we moved immediately to the body paragraphs (we save the introduction for the

end). I asked students to submit the first body paragraph online for my feedback. Our school

uses an online program - Turnitin.com - where I view and comment electronically (you could do

this using Google Drive). In this way, students could receive and read my feedback relatively

quickly. Students turned in their paragraphs on Friday, I commented on them over the weekend,

and students were able to review my comments online by Monday. Students then used my

comments as a guide for writing their second body paragraphs on Monday night.

In-class Mini-Conferences

By Tuesday, students had two body paragraphs written. During class, students began work on

their third body paragraphs. Meanwhile, I walked around the room to read their second body

paragraphs and confer with students about questions or issues they were experiencing. As I do

this with each student, I model the language of effective conferring and nearby students benefit

from hearing the feedback their peers receive. Because we were only looking at a small piece of

writing - a single body paragraph at a time - in most cases, I only needed 2 to 4 minutes per

student and I could deliver at least one piece of specific feedback to each student. There were 3-

4 students I didn’t have time to reach, so I took their paragraphs home to review, mark-up, and

return the next day.

Peer Editing & Review

By Wednesday, students had three body paragraphs written. This time, students were in

charge. Having already written two body paragraphs themselves and after receiving feedback

from their teacher, students were better equipped to provide feedback to one another. They used

this peer editing sheet to guide them. They worked silently for the first part of class to complete

the sheet and then conferred with each other when they were finished. I walked around to

eavesdrop, jump in, and comment. I found that by structuring the process this way, I’ve moved

the responsibility of feedback from me to the students. When they came in with their

introductions and conclusions a few days later, I had them exchange papers and peer edit, as well

as place a few (anonymous) samples under the document camera for class review.

51

I know that this process might seem a little overwhelming. Honestly, it’s taken me years to

figure it out. I started with one piece and just kept adding and refining it to meet the needs of my

students and as the technology has changed. If you’re looking for ways to provide more

consistent and focused feedback, maybe my process can work for you. If not the whole process,

then perhaps one or two of its parts. Or maybe you have some tried-and-true tips for conferring

and feedback you’d like to share? What challenges have you faced and how have you addressed

them?

*** As an added note, Penny Kittle’s work has been unbelievably valuable to me as a teacher. In

addition to her books, she provides wonderful resources on her website, including several

handouts focused specifically on the writing workshop and conferring with students.

About the Author

Tricia Ebarvia is a teacher at Conestoga High School in the Tredyffrin-Easttown School

District. She is also a PAWLP fellow, completing the Reading & Literature Institute in 2009 and

the Writing Institute in 2011. Her teacher webpage can be found at mrsEbarvia.com.

Tulips Close-up

52

Free Students from the Chains of the Bookroom

By Rich Mitchell

I have a theory about novels. As a high school teacher, I assume that the dim, damp, locked

bookroom across the hall from my classroom is similar to many if not most high school

bookrooms around the country. Copies of To Kill a Mockingbird, The Great Gatsby,

Huckleberry Finn, and Heart of Darkness, line the shelves, some tattered, some new; some

Everbound, some paperback. My theory is this: We teach books like To Kill a Mockingbird, The

Great Gatsby, Huckleberry Finn, and Heart of Darkness because our schools own them. They’re

great books, don’t get me wrong, but aren’t the true reasons we use them financial and practical?

Do we not order ten new copies of The Great Gatsby annually because we already own so many

other serviceable copies? Can we deny that we work with To Kill a Mockingbird because it’s

easier and cheaper than finding a new book, written by a living author, with similar, yet more

current themes, and no SparkNotes?

How can we expect students to seriously read, write, and think forwardly, when everything

we use to facilitate such reading, writing, and thinking is older than their parents and

grandparents? How can we get them to understand the value of writing when we teach them that

good writing—that which is studied in schools—only happened in the past?

I’ve fought the novel fight in many ways. Due to space constraints, I’ll illustrate one. Each

spring, I am responsible for selecting the summer reading title for incoming AP seniors. I must

justify my choice to my department and my district. When the students come to school in

September, I offer extra credit for donating their books. Once they do, I have acquired a new,

school district endorsed text for use in the classroom the following year that has no

SparkNotes—a book students might enjoy because I’ve made my choice with them in mind.

Ultimately, “enjoyment” isn’t my primary concern for summer reading. Rather, I aim to help

enlighten students about their world. If I’ve selected a 21st century novel, chances are I can

justify attempting to move student writing, reading, and thinking forward working with that

novel. Currently, the progressive thinking “Everbound” to the bookroom is that “racism is

wrong,” that “slavery was horrific,” and that “utopias are actually dystopias.” Students have a

53

pretty good grasp on these things. What they don’t know is that, for instance, slavery still

happens all over the world, including in the United States. They know racism is wrong, but they

don’t understand, know about, or care to hear about institutionalized racism. Indeed, many

students believe racism has ended.

Thinking “forward” about the 21st century and the concerns that accompany it require

teachers to think about the choices we can make. It takes a little creativity, but if we’re not

creative, who is going to be? If we’re not creative, teaching English becomes an annual review of

the past, rather than a discussion based in truth and honesty about the future.

Richard Mitchell teachers Senior English at West Chester East High School

and is a doctoral student at the University of Pennsylvania studying reading,

writing and literacy. He lives in West Chester with his wife Maggie, and their

daughter, Evelyn Rae.

Cleo in Bloom

54

Learning – The Key to Positive Energy

By Rose Cappelli

In his book, The Energy to Teach, Donald Graves says, “We can never underestimate the

energy contained in learning” (79). Since I consider myself a life-long learner, I think it is

learning that is at the heart of what keeps me motivated and helps me to sustain positive energy.

In 1997 I attended my first Keystone State Reading Association Conference. I was there for

only one day, but I remember trying to get to as many sessions as possible. I recall scribbling

notes as fast as I could in my notebook, writing my own thoughts in the margins as to how I

might apply this new learning. Sometimes it was a question, sometimes a child’s name,

sometimes a star or an exclamation mark – something to show the learning I wanted to return to

and apply. That first conference experience opened up a whole new world of professional

development for me. I remember clearly the energy I felt as I shared my new understandings

with my colleagues. I have returned to the KSRA conference every year, and many others –

Reading Recovery, NCTE, IRA. Conferences always act as a source of energy to keep me

moving forward as a teacher.

Learning from and with colleagues through professional reading has also been a major factor

in keeping me energized. Many of those I consider to be my colleagues I have only met through

the pages of a book, but their thinking has energized me and influenced me in so many ways.

One of the first books to have a major effect on me as a learner was Regie Routman’s

Invitations. I immersed myself in it on a long train ride from Pennsylvania to North Carolina,

marking it up with post-its, highlighting, and margin notes. That school year I would start my

day by rereading a short section before getting the kids up and ready for school. I would think

about that passage throughout the day, trying to apply the ideas as I went about my work with

students. Of course, I went on to read just about everything Regie Routman has written, but I

think doing that short daily reading influenced me as much as her words did. Even in retirement,

I still like to start my day with some kind of professional reading. Often now it is a blog post, or

perhaps an on-line abstract of a longer article. To me, it’s like a blessing on the day – let me

think about this and how I can use it in my work. Although my professional life has recently

55

shifted, centering more on work with teachers than directly with students, reading professionally

is something I could not do without.

But my collaborations with teachers isn’t all “virtual.” I learned and continue to learn so

much from the collaborative work I have done with fellow PAWLPer Lynne Dorfman. We have

written much together, but we have also engaged in many reflective discussions about the most

effective ways to help students continue to move forward in literacy. I have found that when I

share ideas with colleagues individually, in small groups, or in larger professional book

discussions, my thinking is always nudged and my energy level is raised. As Graves reminds us,

“The more we take risks and learn from each other, the greater the energy-giving satisfaction”

(68).

Learning begins with questions. Take some time to think about the questions you have, and

consider the possibilities of where you might find the answers. Perhaps it is in your own

reflection, or maybe a conversation with a colleague. Maybe you can discover something by

reading a journal article, or a snippet from a professional book. Wherever you find the answers,

that new learning will energize you and motivate you to keep moving forward.

Source: Graves, Donald H. 2001. The Energy to Teach. Portsmouth, NH: Heinemann.

About the Author

Rose Cappelli is a 1996 PAWLP Fellow. She is the co-author with Lynne Dorfman of Mentor Texts, Nonfiction

Mentor Texts, and Poetry Mentor Texts. She continues to pursue new learning about gardening and birds. You can

read more of her blog entries at www.mentortextswithlynneandrose.com, or follow her on Twitter at

@RoseCappelli.

56

Serve Your Enthusiasm

By Bob Zakrzewski

Often this time of year when winter overstays its welcome, I find solace in the sun

stretching each day longer, melting January and February’s icy blues and chapped pinks into

March greens. And as a high school English teacher on a block schedule, facing mid-winter

accompanies meeting new students, reminding me of James Baldwin’s apt observation: “Fires

can’t be made with dead embers, nor can enthusiasm be stirred by spiritless men.”

Enthusiasm fuels my teaching. Years spent honing the art of organizing lessons and

developing an understanding of writing, although well-spent, could not sustain me. Walking into

class with a well-prepared plan and confident knowledge of the day’s literature felt great, yet,

lacking enthusiasm, the lessons fell flat.

But awareness does not equal action, and acknowledging enthusiasm’s importance did

not suddenly make me comfortable showing it. Evolving from “divinely inspired fervor” (via

Greek en/in + theos/god), the word evokes otherworldly energy I considered beyond my grasp

(No, Dead Poets Society did not inspire my career choice). More comfortable deflecting blame,

I complained, “Aren’t the students here to benefit from my knowledge? Shouldn’t my expertise

be enough to motivate them?” This mentality bred frustration, and my teaching career would not

have lasted long without changing it.

Most literature I teach, and perhaps the purpose of literature itself, promotes considering

other perspectives, yet I did not. After much trial and error addressing this problem, my self-

centered approach gave way to embracing classroom diversity. I found each student could,

regardless of ability or interest, engage more comfortably with literature if I acted as content

facilitator rather than knowledge dictator. And fortunately, I enjoyed showing enthusiasm for

their learning far more than showing it for how much I already knew.

A colleague and I recently discussed teaching challenging literature, and she mentioned

relying on how all reading and writing provides opportunities for personal and social exploration,

which can appeal to anyone in some way. The trick is finding this “way”, and an effective

57

English classroom creates a space for this exploration. My enthusiasm ignites student

willingness to, as I call it, “play school” and see where the journey goes. This exploration can

produce anxiety and discomfort, but genuinely listening to student reactions while sincerely

sharing mine forges a trusting environment where all can consider our barriers and how to

approach them. And once this personal investment is made, active reading and thoughtful

writing soon follow.

Today my classroom is a paradox of individualized itineraries on a group tour. I am the

tour guide, yet my world changes with each excursion, influenced by the varying perspectives

every traveler brings. Returning to James Baldwin, he added, “Enthusiasm in our daily work

lightens effort and turns even labor into pleasant tasks.” My pleasant task involves helping

students board the “English Class” vessel and travel out of frigid winter to the warm climes of

June, anticipating our destination, but more enthused by what the journey teaches along the way.

About the Author

Bob Zakrzewski is a 2009 PAWLP Fellow. Teacher since 1999, he currently teaches English at

Strath Haven High School and Cabrini College. In addition to literature and education, Bob is a

father, music-lover, and devoted Phillies fan--even during their current struggles. He can be

contacted at rmzak@mac.com.

Feeding Time

58

Mathematical Angst in Alphabetical Ups and Downs

By June Shultz

Algebra, addition, applications--

Baffling binaries,

Computation confusion,

Divide, denied, disjointed differences,

Equals not equal; Evens are odd and never add up,

Failure, frustration—no elation.

Golden ratios: Geometry success!

Hit and Miss,

Integers,

Joy jammed—jarred jumbles of numbers,

Kill the curiosity of learning,

Low grades—hope fades,

Missing the key to algorithms and logarithms,

Numbers Not Nimble,

Odd digits, odder,

Problems—problems and more problems,

Quizzical questions, questions, and more questions,

Rough equations,

Subtraction distraction—No Satisfaction,

Tutor supplied –Theorems Applied,

Volumes of victory in vectors!

What do you mean Math’s obscene?

X + Y = Z after all!

About the Author

June Shultz (Writing fellow 2000) directed a preschool—teaching the 4 and 5 year olds, taught HS English, 5th

grade, and 8th

grade MS Language Arts over a span of 36 years. Writing and reading are her first loves, followed

by travel, rails to trails biking, and spending time with her 5 year old grandson. She currently holds multiple

positions in the Keystone State Reading Association. She lives with her husband of 46 years in Strasburg, PA.

jls@epix.net

59

MUSIC

By Don LaBranche

I’ll probably soon forget this spring,

tarnished and slouched in a long shadow

like a plumb line across the infant corn.

The sun is high over the meadow, and I’m alone

with the grasshoppers. There’s a purpose

to their song not unlike those my mother

sang at the sink after she fried the last

of the eggs for my father before he set off

to work in the barn and the fields.

She was always singing. Hymns

when we kids were in the house, but

sea shanties and pub songs

when she thought we were out of earshot.

I watched her when she sang at the sink

where hot water burned her hands. And later

by the radio at night, as she rubbed

five and dime skin cream into her palms,

her fingers, her knuckles, especially

her chapped and swollen knuckles.

Her eyes closed and her lips barely moved.

60

LOSING NOUNS

By Don LaBranche

What is it called when you take chunks

of meat and mushrooms, green peppers and onions,

skewer them on pointy metal stakes and then

lay them out cross-wise on the grill for four to five

minutes, then turn them over until the meat is tender

and the veggies are black and sweet, and you lick

your fingers after you push everything off the stake

onto white rice because the kids won’t eat the brown?

And who was that woman in the smokin’

red dress at your nephew’s wedding right around the time

of REM’s third album? The one whose husband ran off

with the pharmaceutical rep from D.C. that he met

the same night Michael Stipe bought us a high end

Pinot Noir in that Atlanta restaurant after you struck up

a conversation with him about the crème Brule.

What was her name anyway? And that town

we visited the following summer: white church

with green trim by the lake where the country store

had single bottles of beer for sale, and where they made

those sandwiches on thick black bread with home made

chips, and they had paddle boats to rent on the beach

where the college girl flirted with the lifeguard all day,

and where the ice cream stand sold those great pretzels

we liked so much buried in the fudge ripple. Was that in Maine?

Or was it in Rhode Island?

I can’t remember anything anymore.

61

About the Author

Donald LaBranche (Writing Fellow, '93) graduated from West Chester State College and Widener University. He

taught physical education, swimming, third and fifth grade in the Chichester School District. In 2002 he

participated in a week long internship at the Center for Teaching and Learning, Nancy Atwell's demonstration

school in Maine. He has taught graduate level courses for PAWLP as well as a class in Science Fiction, Fantasy,

and Horror to fascinating teen writers in the Young Writer's summer program. His poetry has appeared in

numerous publications. donaldlabranche@gmail.com

Boat Ashore

62

My Grandmom’s Kitchen

By Carol Opdyke

My grandmom’s kitchen remembers -

The steaming pots and

Sterilized canning jars.

My grandmom’s kitchen remembers -

The smell of red, ripe-picked tomatoes

Transformed into her delicious sauce.

My grandmom’s kitchen remembers –

The large purple grapes as they

Steamed on the stove and

Melted into sweet, thick jelly.

My grandmom’s kitchen remembers –

The smell of roasted fresh peppers

Baked in the oven

Perched for their new jar homes.

My grandmom’s kitchen remembers –

The crisp ears of fresh picked corn

Ready to be boiled and eaten.

My grandmom’s kitchen remembers –

The window that looked out

Over the willing vegetable garden

That grew just for her.

63

The Bike Ride

Carol Opdyke

“Just a short ride on the handlebars,” he said.

I hesitantly jumped on the front of Billy’s bike.

My heart racing with second thoughts.

Off we went down the hill

A speeding meteor racing toward earth!

In an instant, we were airborne

Our destiny unknown.

The hard blacktop awaiting our arrival.

The next few moments were a blank-

Blood

Embedded gravel

Pain

I limped home.

Billy went to the hospital

Twenty-two stitches later

We were still friends.

About the Author

Carol Opdyke is a PAWLP fellow since 2002. She is a Reading Specialist and is currently the Interim Principal at

Our Lady of Mercy Regional Catholic School. Carol lives in Hatfield with her husband, Dan, and they both enjoy

traveling and spending time with their five amazing grandchildren!

Photography Credits

Winter Street, Irish Crossroads, Moose, Lilac in Bloom, Still Water, Meg Griffin

Covered Bridge, Snow Ornaments, Ice Flakes, Snowy Pine, Boat Ashore, Carriage Roads, The Path

Meg has had many careers in her adult life from stockbroker to baker to brain injury nurse. The fates conspired until

she finally found her passion – teaching. A PAWLP Writing Fellow since 2005, Meg teaches fourth grade in the

Central Bucks School District. She regularly presents at local and national conferences, particularly on technology

integration. Meg facilitated Moving Writing into the 21st Century: Integrating Technology and

Language Arts in Bucks County last summer. megbg60@gmail.com

Icy Branches, Snow Mail, Evergreen Wonderland, St. Augustine, Patty Koller

Lace Cap Hydrangea, Pink and Yellow Tulips, Sunlit Dahlia, Blizzard, Winter Treescape, Dahlia in Pink, Tulips

Close-up, Cleo in Bloom, Feeding Time

Patty taught elementary school in Ohio and Pennsylvania for 35 years. As a PAWLP Fellow, she has facilitated a

variety of courses for teachers over the past 20 years. Most recently, Patty has been teaching PAWLP courses for

youth and teachers at Longwood Gardens, where she gets to combine her love of teaching and nature. Patty also

teachers courses in literature for children and the teaching of reading and writing to undergraduate students at

Wilmington University in Delaware. Pkoller55@gmail.com

Autumn Creek, Winter Berries Kipp Moyer

Kipp Moyer has taught a variety of elementary grades in Pennsylvania and Maryland for the past 21 years. After

taking a variety of PAWLP courses and attending workshops, Kipp became a writing fellow in 2013. Summers are

filled with her nose in a book, pen in hand in her Writer's Notebook, or behind the lens of her camera.

kmoyer@hotmail.com

Boys

Carriage Roads

Submission Guidelines

Manuscripts should be sent by email as a word document attachment to

PAWLPJOURNAL@wcupa.edu.Manuscripts should be double-spaced throughout (including

quotations, endnotes, and works cited), with standard margins. Word 2000 or later is preferred.

Authors using Macintosh software should save their work as Word for Windows. Paper

submissions should be sent only when email is impossible. Please save copies of anything you

send us. We cannot return any materials to authors.

Feature Articles: In general, manuscripts for articles should be no more than 10-15 double-

spaced, typed pages in length (approximately 2500-3500 words). Feature articles can be on

nearly anything dealing with the teaching of writing and reading.

Provide a statement guaranteeing that the manuscript or photo has not been published or

submitted elsewhere present or future in any format.

Lessons: 300 – 750 words. Short, practical lesson plans to bring writing and reading into the

classroom; cross-curricular ideas are encouraged.

Book Reviews: 300 – 750 words. Reviews of recent books about the teaching of writing and

reading, YA Literature, Children’s Literature, other books pertinent to education.

Poetry & Prose: 6 – 750 words. As space permits, we’ll publish poetry and prose.

Teacher Voice: 300 or fewer words on something you need to say!

Original Photographs: Send title and location. Make sure all permissions are secured.

Original Cartoons: Pertinent to Teaching

Other: Something you know we should include but isn’t listed.

General Guidelines

Number all pages.

Use in-text documentation, following the current edition of the MLA Handbook. Where

applicable, a list of works cited and any other bibliographic information should also follow MLA

style.

Please include a short biography including your email. See examples in this and other issues.

List your name, address, school affiliation, the year that you became a PAWLP Fellow,

telephone number, and email address on the title page only, not on the numbered pages of the

manuscript. Receipt of manuscripts will be acknowledged by email, when possible.

210 East Rosedale is refereed, and manuscripts will be read by two or more reviewers. We will

attempt to reach a decision on each article within four months.

Prospective contributors should obtain a copy of the Guidelines for Gender-Fair use of Language

www.pawlp.org