The Intersection

I recently presented a workshop in Los Angeles entitled, “The Early Years of Teaching.” Despite its title, this workshop invited teachers from all experience levels to come together, learn about tips for classroom management and lesson design, analyze a lesson through the student experience, and consult with one another about some of their conundrums at this stage in the school year (or in their careers). The first activity of the day was creating “classroom agreements,” in which all group members were invited to respond to the following question: In this workshop, what supports do you need in order for you to learn best? List at least three. After writing individually for a minute or two, participants then were invited to talk with a neighbor and come to an agreement on 3 - 5 common ideas. From that point, participants gathered in groups of four, then eight, and then all 20+ of us reconvened to settle on 3 - 5 group agreements. The responses weren’t so differ

I teach at an independent high school, and one of the courses I teach, Advanced Composition, is a class focused on lots and lots of process writing. While I'm a fan of basic decorum in a school setting, I do introduce students to a word that some may deem too vulgar for classroom discourse: sh*t. I say it a lot. I can't say this term is original by any stretch, and I'm not trying to curry favor with the kids by being that edgy, cool teacher who drops f-bombs, stands on desks, and makes students rip up their copies of Dickens while sounding my barbaric yawp (I prefer subtlety). But sh*t certainly has its purpose. Thanks to Bird by Bird author, Anne Lamott, "sh*t" has become a household word for the beginning of the writing process. She introduces writers--and writing teachers--to the concept of " Sh*tty First Drafts ." Lots of writing teachers make reference to this chapter of Bird by Bird , and many share in Lamott's philosophy: Now, pract

Like many approaching middle-agers and digital immigrants, I'm new to the blogging world. I read blogs; I comment on blogs; I like blogs--I even know that "blog" is shorthand for web log, so there ya go. While I hope to post about a range of topics, and hopefully focus in on issues of teaching and social justice, this first blog post is dedicated to my dog, Buster. Buster is a rescue dog--and his issues run deep. I used to be annoyed at those bumper stickers people had regarding their rescue pets, the ones that read: Who rescued who?  Mostly, I was annoyed because I went back and forth between whether the object of the verb should be "who" or "whom." But then when I came to the surface and got over my pretension, I thought of Buster. Buster doesn't care about the who/whom debate (most of my students don't either).  And when it comes to the notion that a pet can rescue his/her/their owner as much as an owner can rescue his/her/their pe