I’ve written before about how reading, for me, is now social.  I didn’t expect that would ever change...I really expected that reading would be like it always has been - stories in my own head, and something that belonged to me in a very real way.

But when Andrew burst into my life nine months ago, the way I read (along with everything else) changed.  Suddenly, it wasn’t just me reading.  We read books the other recommended, then talked about it as we read.  Texted quotes and commentary, thoughtful emails and Direct Messages on Twitter about the meaning of certain passages, and the relevance to our own lives...all of that made reading something that was no longer just a refuge where I could live in a world of (at least partially) my own creation.

When I first flipped my class, I got an idea while I watched a reality television show to do something similar to how they engaged viewers.  Throughout the episode, the hashtag for the show appeared in the corner, and viewers were encouraged to tweet their comments in real time.  So I stole that idea and used it for reading and watching video in my English 10 class last year.  They used Today’s Meet as a backchannel, and I saw their level of engagement increase substantially.  They were asking questions that showed more trouble with comprehension than I had any idea existed.  And instead of me answering all the questions, they started answering each other’s questions.  Kids who refused to talk in class were suddenly revealed to be incredibly engaged and possessing more knowledge than anyone realised.  It was actually one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever done in class.

And that’s how we read Night.  I made videos of myself reading each chapter using ShowMe, and we watched them in class.  Students participated over Today’s Meet (we had 1:1 netbooks last year in my classroom).  At the end of the book, every kid passed the assessment...because they actually were engaged in the reading.

And when I started at Redwood, I threw those ideas out for the most part because we were no longer 1:1 and my students were supposedly avid independent, motivated readers.

And a semester later, I’m wondering why I abandoned everything that worked so beautifully for the sake of a little less technology and what turns out to be a group of students who aren’t used to reading for English class.  They are, however, much more adept at using sparknotes and the internet to help them avoid reading.  And they have fooled most of their teachers for a long time, or have simply had a teacher resigned to the fact that her students wouldn’t read what was assigned.  I think all English teachers understand that it's pretty hard to get students to read and focus and comprehend and be excited about books.  And with the influx of technology, attention spans get shorter and teenagers struggle to find as much meaning in Catcher in the Rye as they do in Call of Duty or Facebook.  It's not a problem of this school, or this state, or whatever.  It's a universal problem, at least in American culture.

I had an idea a few weeks ago to have students produce an interactive book of the text they’re reading.  It follows the “Why Read?” inquiry unit we did at the start of the course, because now we’ve read one book together and so we have some experience using the strategies they selected.  And frankly, the way teenagers read has changed.

In an era where they can get high-quality summaries and analysis of most books on the traditional canon for high school literature, and where they’ve come to believe that reading books for school rarely yields anything but pain and suffering, how can we possibly wonder why they choose to do their hours of other homework without even glancing over the pages assigned in their English novel?

But here’s the problem: you can’t analyse what you can’t understand.  And you can’t understand what you don’t read.  So we’re at an impasse.

Now, I’ve had two relatively successful novel units.  We are just wrapping up Death of a Salesman in American Literature, and we are just finished with Night in Humanities.  So for the end product, it makes sense to go back to the original inquiry question: Why Read?

But the more interesting question to me is how my students believe they can help other teens read.  And that’s where the idea for the interactive book comes into its own.  An interactive book, created by the students in my class for the book they are reading or have just finished, could put in features like video explanations of difficult passages, or hyperlinked vocabulary or historical terms, or summaries to start and end the chapter, or focus questions so students can read for deeper analytical meaning.  All of those things would help me as a reader, and my guess is that my students would be helped as well.  But it still doesn’t solve the problem of how to leverage the ability of books to create community.

That’s where the idea for the CoFlipBooks Reads The Fault in Our Stars came from.  We wanted to know what would happen if we got together a group of friends and made videos for each of the chapters that would serve to start a discussion and deepen our own connection to and understanding of the book.  We’ve already got an introduction video and a video for chapter one and it’s been amazing so far.

We’re working on translating this for use in the classroom, and how it could fit into an interactive book.  We don’t have all the answers yet, but that doesn’t matter.  Part of blogging for me is sharing what is in process, rather than just what is finished product.

So when school starts on Monday, we will start talking about constructing an interactive book that will help students read socially and with thoughtfulness and depth.  I’d love to hear what you think about how that should work.

And please watch our book club videos!  And read with us!  And create video responses to any of the chapter videos!

As I’ve been reading some new books over break, I’ve noticed something.

The way I read has changed now that my use of technology has changed.  Let me give you an example.

I read Looking for Alaska. You should too.  But luckily for me, Andrew (my favourite person with whom to read a book) HAS read it.  So as I was reading, and crying, and laughing and wondering how John Green got so nerdfighting awesome, I was also doing something that has become part of my reading ritual/routine/practice these days.

I was messaging Andrew with quotes, thoughts, connections to our own lives, and questions.  I found that when I was struck by the beauty of something, I wanted to just send him the quote.  So I would type out the quote and often realise just how much more beautiful it was as I was copying it verbatim.  And he would respond, and we would talk about it.

And it made me love the book even more.

Then I read An Abundance of Katherines.  And he hasn’t read it.  But he (and you) should.  I found myself actually enjoying it a bit less, not because it was inherently less enjoyable, but because I wasn’t getting the same interaction I had with Looking for Alaska, and before that dozens of other books Andrew and I have read together (synchronously or asynchronously).

When I read, I often take on some of the images, metaphors, turns of phrase, or other subtle patterns in my own writing.  I’ve found that having that kind of assimilation with my favourite books deepens my own ability to express myself, and simultaneously communicates a deeper meaning to anyone familiar with the original work.  I can make an allusion to a character, or a particular scene, and the background of my writing becomes so rich with references that it is a tapestry of meaning to which only some of my readers have access.

That may sound elitist or exclusive, but it’s something we all do.  We make inside jokes with people as a function of relationship.  It connects us to them, and adds shades of depth to our ordinary interactions.  It creates backstory and shared history.  It knits us together in thousands of tiny stitches.  And that’s the same way authors connect to the readers - they give us in-jokes, references to famous stories and situations, and in that way, we understand the world they have created and can see ourselves in it.  If the book is really good, those ideas can actually mean something both inside of and outside of the original context of the novel.

You only have to look to fandom to see that this works extremely well.  How many people dress up like Star Trek, Star Wars, Harry Potter, Hunger Games, etc. characters because they feel like it’s a world they inhabit?  On a smaller scale, I was at church on Sunday and someone came in wearing a The Fault In Our Stars shirt (the one that matches the cover, only it says “okay” instead of the book information).  I told her how much I loved John Green and the book and therefore, the shirt; instantly, we had a point of connection where none existed before.  The same thing happens when I wear my birthday present from Andrew - the NOT COOL ROBERT FROST! t-shirt.  Anyone who recognises it is really just recognising one of the stitches that hold us together.

It’s part of human nature to seek connection with others.  And one of the ways we do that is through telling stories and imagining ourselves and other people complexly.

So that is what Andrew and I have been talking about lately.  We wanted a way for our kids to engage in many of the same practices that we do as readers: practices we try to model for them so they can see proficient readers and start to change their conception of what it means to read with thoughtfulness and depth.

That’s originally where the ideas for reading journals came up.  When we read books that we’re teaching (or preparing to teach) we don’t do formal annotation, but we do some informal reading journal strategies (and one of us who will remain nameless uses only envelopes and file folders for these).  So I showed my students my crazy messy notes (that I have cleaned up and posted here, along with instructions if you are interested) and talked them through what my idea of a reading journal is.  

But first, what it’s not:

• Cornell Notes, or other kinds of structured note-taking
  
• Graded or evaluated in any way
  
• Treasure hunting for symbols or metaphors
  

In fact, there are only a few things I insist be included:

• Actual thoughts about the text
  
• Something that responds, connects, or interprets the text
  

That’s it.  They can illustrate or use other visuals, they can write out quotes, they can tell a personal story, they can make bullet points of key words or ideas, they can note patterns or repeating language/ideas/themes, etc.  Most of them do a combination of those things.  Some like to write down quick thoughts and then go back and write a more polished version at home that night.  

The point is that I want them to have something that they wrote about the text during or just after when they read.  I’ve found that it increases comprehension, helps them formulate questions so they engage the text more fully, and assists their composition and planning process when the time comes to write the essay or do the project at the end of the unit.

But here’s the flaw in the plan: they are the only one benefitting from these.  They do share with their group, and then often with the whole class, but that is a very limited sphere of influence.

That’s the flaw this New Idea is designed to address.

So instead of doing all the reading journals individually on paper (some do them digitally on their own device), we want students to choose one section of the book and do a video reading journal.  This will look a little like the Death of a Salesman videos I wrote about in the last post, in that they will get a particular section of the book and will be asked to work in a small group to make a video.

But there’s a slight difference.  This video isn’t about analysing character.  It’s about connecting to the text.  And they can talk about anything they want, so long as it gets them to engage and read both academically and empathetically, treating the characters and situations with thoughtfulness and complexity.

It would be a little like a book talk, but with a focus on pointing out the things in that section of the text that can pull the reader in and help them understand the book more fully.  So a straight summary won’t do it.  Neither will some vague statements about character.

I don’t know if this will work, but I think the primary goal is to get students to make a video in which they make people care about the book and want to read it.

All the videos would be under four minutes, but other than that, could be put together however they wished.  They could use puppets, green screen, animation, RSA-style, still pictures, PowToons style, or just sit in front of the camera and talk.

The first step is to make some model videos.  So Andrew and I are working on a project that involves reading journal videos for John Green’s AMAZING book The Fault in Our Stars.  We’ll post it here when we finish it.  Our hope is that we will put together a series that involves members of our PLN (including non-English teachers, because hey, reading isn't an "English Teacher Only" activity) to model what these can look like, and then we can start our students with a plethora of models for inspiration.  We can also work out the bugs in the system before assigning it.  Eventually we’d love our students to actually make videos to send to their classmates across the country (so Andrew’s students make them for a book my students are reading too, and then my students make videos and then send them back, etc.).

And it just sounds like a hell of a lot of fun.  It’s kind of like a book club with more #EduAwesome.

We’d love to know if you’ve tried anything like this before, or have ideas to make this idea even better.

I never realised just how much I took for granted about reading.  Every year, I vastly overestimate my students' ability to read on their own.  I assume that just because everyone in my department assigns reading regularly as homework that students are actually doing it and getting it.

This week has been the reality check for me: They aren't.  Even the "high achievers" either aren't doing the reading or they are doing it and not understanding it.  Even the AP students in some cases.  These are kids who get A's in everything, who can write and articulate intelligent arguments.  And they aren't reading what we assign.

These are the kids who are getting accepted left and right to Purdue and Brown and Cornell and UCLA and Cal.  These are the best kids from the best school in the best area.  

The real tragedy is that these are the exact kids who need the beauty and the breath of fresh air that comes with a good book.  The bookroom is filled with titles that I would have killed to teach at previous schools - Kite Runner, Me Talk Pretty One Day, Sula, The Things They Carried, Things Fall Apart, The Namesake, Their Eyes Were Watching God, Indian Country, Slaughterhouse Five, Pride and Prejudice, Man's Search For Meaning...our bookroom has hundreds of choices.

Hundreds of choices that our students pretend to read or understand for most of their four years here.

I'm not pointing fingers at my colleagues - I assigned reading homework last semester, and many of my students told me they didn't read all of those books either.  And some of them got A's from me too.  So we're taking kids who love reading, who read for pleasure, who will do homework, who are compliant, and churning out students addicted to Sparknotes, trained to jump into the point in the discussion where their failure to read or understand will be noticed least, and who think that literature is just an excuse for a treasure hunt for symbols that they can identify and spit back out on a test.

So what's going on?  And more importantly, how do we fix it?

If we believe that teaching through literature is the Right Way, and that the skills developed through beautiful literature can help students see their own life more clearly, analyse more carefully, and engage with the world more actively, then it's imperative we figure this out.  And I'm the least capable person to figure this out, because I did all the assigned reading in high school and college, loved it, and understood the vast majority of it.

So I asked my students.  In a previous post, I outlined the process we went through to ascertain what would be the best reading strategy for them.  I would encourage you to read that before continuing with this post.

So here's are some of the take-aways from that mini-unit.

First of all, it's different for every group of students.  That makes sense - any teacher can tell you that the climate of one section can be wildly different to another section of the same class.  But how often have we treated them the same in the method we use for reading?  I know I have.

Secondly, it will be a system of trial and error.  When we came up with the plan, I had a student ask, "What happens if we end up not liking this, or it doesn't work - are we stuck with it?"  NO!  The whole purpose in giving them voice and choice is to make it work for them.  Why would I force them to stick with something that wasn't working just because "they chose it"?

Thirdly, students are not used to being asked these questions.  They haven't thought about it either, on the whole.  They never think to question their teachers.  They said to me, when I asked why they don't question what we're doing, "But we just assume that either you have a reason or that it would be rude to ask.  So we don't ask why."  I died a little inside on that one.  Any student, regardless of age or ethnicity or grade level or ability, should be able to respectfully ask the teacher for rationale behind any assignment.  And if the teacher doesn't have one, it should prompt some serious reflection on the teacher's part.  I told my students that I would never ask them to do something for which I couldn't articulate a reason.

Finally, it's not enough just to have class discussions or to have students reflect on what they're learning and why.  Students need to be given far more voice and choice than they usually get in factory-style education.  I've found, over and over, that when I ask them for input, their ideas and cognitive process are amazing...often better than what Andrew and I came up with.  Most of the plans are a result of students advocating for what they need, and trying to take ownership over their education.  I'm confident that more students will be reading the assigned novels for these courses.  And it's not because they like me.  It's because they feel like it was their choice, and that if they have something to say about the process, the product, or the text itself, they have the freedom to say it.  They don't have to hide the fact that they hate the book - in fact, sometimes that's the start of the best discussions in my classroom.  And if they honestly aren't reading at home, how is it helpful to act out a farce in which we all pretend they ARE reading?  It's teaching them that education has shortcuts.  That they can get all of the answers off the internet.*  

Is that really what we want to be teaching them?

*side note: When I said that many of my PLN agree that "if you can google it, it's not a good question to include on a test" they just couldn't understand what a test would look like with information that wasn't googleable.  I gave some examples, such as: instead of memorising the dates of the Civil War (googleable), argue whether or not Lincoln did enough to prevent the war (not googleable).  Their words: "Yeah, that second option is way more interesting and useful."  Yes.  Yes, it is.

Below the fold are the specific plans that we worked out in each of my three classes that have started a novel. 

So in about a week and a half, I start over.  Andrew and I have been brainstorming a way to start the semester, given that about 1/3 of each class will be returning students and the rest new.  I've wished more than once that I could just keep all my kids until the end of the year - we are at the point where the real amazing movement and progress is possible.

But there's no point in looking back.  It's time to move forward.

So the best idea we had was about reading.  All three of my classes are reading heavy - four to six novels in the semester.  I've really struggled with how to do reading in a way that fits with the mindset that Andrew and I have pedagogically and the context I have practically.  I don't want students to have to do all the reading at home.  We know that doesn't work for most of them, and it's often the homework left for last - many times, following 3-4 hours of homework into the early hours of the morning. 

So there has to be a way to give students the ability to use class time to read; that, paired with the ways that I'm encouraging reading rather than punishing the lack of reading, means that students won't have the stress that normally accompanies the teaching of a novel.  And part of that process is helping students explore why reading is so important.

So why do we read?  That's the question that will kick off our Explore-Flip-Apply mini-unit for all three classes.  From reading the essays from my Essay Exposition class about their experience in English thus far, it's clear that they do not understand why we're asking them to read books that have little to do with them or their lives.

Again - why are we asking them to read these books?  

It's because we believe that literature has a universality that can speak to the experiences that make us human.  Books tell us what it means to love, how to grieve well for lost love, why friendship is essential, how travel broadens our horizons.  They connect us to people with whom we have no connection, and will never know.  They show us the range of human experience and guide us through challenges and successes.

But more importantly for English teachers, literature is a vehicle to get our students to write and think critically.  Not to say that the "universality of human experience" angle isn't important - that's certainly the reason that adults continue to read after their education is complete.  But for our students, we use the characters, the plot, the setting and the writing itself to show them how we have analytical conversations, how to build a rational argument in writing, and to make connections.

But what do our students see?  They see us asking them to analyse the development of a main character.  They see us asking them to write a business letter in the voice of a character.  They see us assign reading quizzes and journals that ask them to interpret specific passages through a critical lens.

They don't see that all of those things are building their ability to become strong critical thinkers.  Is it any wonder that they push back against reading?  Is it any wonder that they don't see reading as important?

For our first unit, we want them to see both sides.  I have a feeling they can generate the "universality of human experience" answer, and that is what they will do on day one.  We will pose the question - why read literature? - we will see the reasons they develop.  Then for "homework" that first night, we will have students watch a short video where Andrew and I talk about why we use literature to teach our classes - and they will take notes.  

The next day, they will be in the computer lab and will be introduced to Google Drive and the AutoCrat script* we'll be using to create new documents for each assignment.  Once that is set up, we will compile the notes students took the night before onto a collaborative note-taking document.  The idea is that they start to develop note-taking strategies that will serve them well in college.  They will not often need to take notes in our class (rarely is there direct instruction, rarely is note-taking required while watching a video, and rarely do we assign ANY homework, let alone a video with notes) but working on collaborative documents will set the foundation for the CO-Lab partner work we will do later.  Then they will work on a reading timeline for their own life.  

The last two days of the mini-unit will be a Socratic Seminar (with collaborative note-taking, live during class and a backchannel discussion**) on why reading literature is important for high schoolers and a short vignette about a meaningful literary experience, positive or negative, from their own life.

The hope is that showing them that reading is about more than getting a grade, hearing about heartbreak, analysing a symbol, or memorising plot points will help them see the relevance of the reading we'll be doing.

The next portion of the unit will be watching Derren Brown's Apocalypse, which plays with the notion of a zombie apocalypse and uses a strong literary reference to The Wizard of Oz...yet another reason to read: so you understand references in popular culture.

I'd love to hear your reasons for why people should read literature.  Having a list of reasons for our video that draw from our PLN would be amazing.

*The amazing thing about this script is that students fill out a google form on the tmiclass.com website, then get emailed a document that is automatically shared with us, dropped in the correct folder, and titled with a standard naming convention.  It's pretty much the coolest thing in the entire world.  Second to collaboration, I guess.


**During our Socratic Seminar at the beginning of the year, I introduced a format I used for reading and watching movies last year and wrote about here on the blog.  Essentially, I open a todaysmeet.com thread, and display it on the front board.  Students then choose inner circle - talking - or outer circle - participating on the todaysmeet thread.  Then there is one students responsible for bringing in the interesting ideas from the students in the outer circle.  Started using this structure in September, and students have loved it and told me that it drastically lowers the anxiety associated with how they have been graded for discussions in the past.