Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts

Friday, February 9, 2018

Flipping Feedback: Revising Peer Review

For several years in middle and secondary, along with the last year or so with freshman composition, I have held onto the belief that someone besides me needed to be the first eyes on a student's paper.  After all, students can read for clarity and expression, saving me the initial roughness that is the rough draft.  I have tried to create a writing environment that organically developed beyond what the peer review worksheets could do. Even though we would discuss feedback protocol and how to respond to each other's writing and what it looked like/sounded like,   

peer review sessions always fell flat.  

I did not realize what needed to change.  But then in the midst of reflecting on the fall semester and its false starts and mediocre ends I read "Teaching Writing as Journey, Not Destination" by Paul Thomas.  In this post, Thomas discusses student feedback from his composition courses.  Notably, his students wanted instructor comments on essays before working with peers.  Because I was in the beginning stages of planning spring's Composition II, the timing was right for rethinking draft due dates, turnaround times, peer feedback, and final papers.  

And now it was time for the first essay.  Instead of students bringing drafts to class for a peer review workshop, students printed their essays to turn in to me, an adjustment to my usual digital submission requirement.  I had thought about how students would access my comments the following week and discuss them with partners.  With the likelihood that some students would not have their laptops, I decided hand-written margin comments on hard copies would provide a tangible anchor for peer conversations. 

The next class, I began with a writing prompt asking students to tell about their previous experiences with peer feedback.  Predictably, they wrote about its ineffectiveness.  As I walked the room, I could see comments such as "waste of time." One student wrote, "My experiences with peer review is not telling them what the teacher can tell them."  

Students only trusted the person who assigned and graded their essays.

Another student commented, "I'm not a fan of peer review because I'm not good at giving feedback when reading an essay."  

Students did not trust others or themselves to be effective readers and responders.

After this opening activity, we discussed what they hoped to gain from the workshop and developed a peer feedback protocol.  Honesty topped the list.  Students desired honest feedback, which demonstrated they really wanted to improve their writing.  They also listed "praise," "offer ideas," "suggestions for revision/corrections," and "ask questions."  One student suggested the acronym TAG: Tell something good, Ask questions, and Give suggestions, which is similar to the Praise-Question-Polish protocol introduced to me in the Louisville Writing Project (an affiliate site of the National Writing Project).

Students read my comments and then reviewed these comments with peers while using the peer feedback protocol.  I heard conversations.  A few students did not turn in rough drafts the previous week; however, they either helped others with feedback or did as this student who said, "Although I didn't have commentary on my paper due to me not submitting my draft, I sat and listened to the others who did receive feedback and got a lot of help from that."  I learned from feedback at the end of class that, for the most part, students' experiences of peer reviews were both helpful and positive.  For the most part.  Yes, we still have a ways to go, but I feel confident that I made the right move for this first essay.  

Thank you to the many mentors out there who constantly help me re-envision my teaching.  

Monday, January 29, 2018

Missing the Leap: Removing Scaffolding too Quickly

For our first assignment in my freshman composition course, I wanted them to select an article of their interest and choosing to use for their discourse analysis.  After reading and discussing The Declaration of Independence the previous class, last week (our fourth class meeting together) students wrote a response to "What do you think the founding fathers intended the American Creed to be?" After a brief discussion and a too brief introduction to Padlet where we could capture our ideas, I asked my students to search for an article that connects to the themes we had identified in the historic document (e.g. equality, liberty, pursuit of happiness).

And the plan collapsed.

I watched my students attempt their (figurative) leap from incomplete scaffolding to grasp a crumbling ledge.  Students' hands popped up with questions in some parts of the room while elsewhere they sat gazing into their computers for answers.  The supplemental instructor and I visited students one on one, working our way around the room to coax students in the directions we had begun to travel the previous class period: topics such as free trade and the collapse of agreements, equality and the current questions about equal pay or discrimination, and freedom and the discussion of immigration and DACA. 

After bailing water the second half of class, I asked students to complete an exit slip with their topic of interest and the questions they had at that point. 

It was obvious to me that I needed to repair the scaffolding for this new group of students, but I was so stuck in what went wrong that I had difficulty focusing beyond the stack of slips with students' topics and questions.  Fortunately, chapter 7 of The Innovator's Mindset by George Couros (@gcouros) gave substance to my work.  His description of the eight things to look for in today's classroom gave me pause as I considered how I was creating opportunities for voice, choice, time for reflection, opportunities for innovation, critical thinking, problem solving, self-assessment, and connected learning. 

I wanted these characteristics in my classroom, but having already planned the end of the semester, I was missing the incremental steps of establishing the classroom culture that warmly invited students into these conversations and periods of reflection.  My intentions steamed ahead of community.  I attempted choice and critical thinking without building solid foundations that would make students' voices and connected learning meaningful.  Though it was mid-year for K-12 students and teachers, and a second semester continuation for my pre-service candidates, it was a new course and a fresh start for me and these freshman composition students.  I needed to know where they were so I could meet them there, something at this point in the year in my previous teaching positions I have not had to do.

The exit slips indicated that students needed much more assistance with finding articles.  I located ten articles that I hoped would honor students' interests while providing for rich analysis.  Categorized into general themes of liberty, equality, and pursuit of happiness with topics ranging from discrimination of people with disabilities to wage gaps to DACA to opportunities for happiness, articles would provide choice but in a way that kept this first assignment manageable.

This teaching mis-experience sank my spirits and no amount of positive interactions that day changed this feeling until I worked on a solution.  The bigger lesson from that day was this:  In the deepest part of me I want to be a good teacher, but more importantly I need to really see and know my students in order to do so.  Only then can we build a classroom in which we can solve these problems together.

Friday, January 19, 2018

Welcoming the Spring Semester

Welcome 2018!  

This new year and new semester prompted me to consider what I want to be and do in 2018.  Determined to be more and better in this year than I was in 2017, I began January 1 with reading, reflecting, and enjoying family time.  Each day is an opportunity to shape who I am and want to be.  My new and improved routine did not begin on January 2.  Some weeks into 2018 and the first week of spring classes, I'm still figuring out how to get up in time to stretch or have coffee, wake up children, read a news blog, make lunch, get ready for the day, and leave the house to drop off the high schooler before work.  After a few days of saying, "I think I need to start my day earlier," I reset my alarm.  Baby steps.

Many things stay the same when you work within an academic calendar.  I have ongoing projects with accreditation, research, and writing that stretch along the August-July continuum rather than the calendar year.  Yet, new classes in the spring semester revitalize me with opportunities for curricular revision.  And this semester, two pathways to enhance my understanding of students and partnerships have presented themselves in very different settings.  One is within my freshman composition course; the other is in my secondary English methods course.

The second semester Writing Studies delves into discourse communities, and in my particular learning community cohort the focus is civic engagement.  I began planning for this course in November while attending the National Writing Project Annual Meeting.  At that time, I was introduced to the PBS documentary American Creed and worked with instructors who had previewed the film and developed resources.  It was with even more good fortune that I learned the director of freshman composition at my university had received a grant for including service learning in the Writing Studies courses.  My course will analyze historical discourse, which will unfold as an exploration of today's discourse and the needs in our local communities.

My affiliation with the Illinois Writing Project and my participation with the National Writing Project College, Career, and Community Writers Program (C3WP) placed tools in my hands that will deepen this exploration of discourses in the composition class.  These argument-writing resources provide a framework for putting texts in conversation with one another and a foothold for students to engage in these conversations with each other.  Being present, being open, and being responsive allowed me to make the connections necessary to plan this semester.  I hope that what the freshmen experience within the class is as meaningful as planning for them has been.

In my secondary English methods course, five teacher candidates are continuing their program that began last fall.  We weathered some obstacles in the fall course, including my attempt to add writing and research layers to an already packed schedule.  We tried writing personal pieces with little time to develop them.  We recorded teaching episodes but did not fully take advantage of the feedback feature that was available in the technology platform.  After experimentation that resulted in marginal (if any) success, I should have been hesitant to try anything new this spring.  However, I want to enrich the candidates' experiences in the program, and have prepared myself for the setbacks that might occur. 

It has been a dream of mine to recreate my graduate research assistant experience of assisting a middle grades methods course taught in a middle school, often utilizing technology for backchannel discussions about classroom observations.  At the least, I hoped for my candidates to observe in a school together at the same time so that we could unpack the observations in our weekly class sessions.  Though possibly more than I should have hoped for, I also wanted a classroom space within a high school.  I am thrilled that our new partnership with a local high school opens doors for that dream to become a reality.  We meet in our high school classroom next week.  As we discuss candidates' observations and unpack the assigned readings, it will feel different from our university campus space.  I want it to feel different.  High school is where they have chosen to be, and it is my responsibility to prepare them.  Surrounding ourselves with the high school culture is only the first step.

Baby steps.

Saturday, October 1, 2016

Longing for Writing Space as an Early Career Researcher Professor

I woke this morning with the longing to write, the need to carve time for creativity, to voice the thoughts swirling around in the ether.  Simultaneously, university course work tugged at the coattails of a writing desire that has become more and more elusive over the past several weeks.  I wobbled against its weight.  The pull of grading, of announcements to students clarifying their questions, and of emails to colleagues scheduling meetings worked to stifle what I know to be true: if I do not write, I cannot teach writing, nor can I teach future teachers how to teach writing.

Attending the Illinois Reading Council (#IRC2016) reminded me of the passion I need to reignite: writing to discover new ideas and to nourish the ideas that have had little time to take root.  A small group of professors with the College Instructors of Reading Professionals answered questions, and more importantly offered much-needed encouragement in my pursuit of what fills me as a professional.  Anne Gregory with NIU said it best when describing how early she rises each morning to workout: "I deserve this . . . and you deserve the time for your passion." Deserve.  I deserve the time to write.  That one word shifted my thinking profoundly.

But it did not shift my ability.

In a late afternoon session yesterday, Ralph Fletcher showed us poetry and encouraged us to draft a few lines ourselves.  I stumbled.  My phrases were lackluster.  The poem ended awkwardly with no connection to Fletcher proposed be our final two lines.  And how I needed that punch to generate an image, an idea about a memory long past.  I could then, and now, feel the rusty spigot creaking little by little with each word.  No pressure except for the words pressing themselves against the narrow faucet opening.

When Kelly Gallagher spoke in his session about voluminous writing in the classroom, I nodded agreement.  How can students improve their writing and enhance idea generation, organization, and detail development without constant opportunities to experiment with craft and improve writing stamina?  His strategies for engaging students in low-pressure writing without increasing the grading workload should be easy to implement in any grade level.  In fact, I am eager to add his Reading Reasons to my collection of professional resources to become as well-referenced as so many other reading and writing experts.

But then, let's flip the voluminous writing concept back to us.

Are we creating the space--time and place--for low-pressure writing in our own professional and personal settings?  In a sense, everything I have written in the past several weeks has been for a "grade."  Grading students' essays and communicating with colleagues or partner schools via email are higher-pressure writings that become evaluated by the people who read them.  Likewise, reports, course syllabi, and students' degree study plans cannot receive failing grades.  I like having a job.

Blogging is that release for me.  Writing in this space solidifies the ethereal thoughts, giving them legs to stand on . . . and hands to shake loose whatever weight might be hanging onto the tails of this new coat I am trying on.

So tell me, how do you create the space for writing?  What do you recommend for early-career researchers and professors?  What helps you reignite writing when other weighty obligations begin to take over?

Wednesday, June 1, 2016

Operating on the Dissertation Behemoth for Academic Publishing

When I first entered the doctoral program in summer of 2011, I viewed academia as a place where someone else shared knowledge with me.  In that fall's doctoral seminar class, however, the professor shared bewildering information.  We needed to eventually publish.  Whether we co-authored with mentor faculty or were the sixth author on a research article, we would be in better academic and professional standings if we published in journals (although Raul Pacheco-Vega questions this logic in his recent blog post).  So, as a full-time middle school language arts teacher and part-time graduate student, I ignored this advice and focused on providing endless feedback on 8th grader drafts and writing my own projects, articles, reflections, or unit plans for graduate coursework.

Fortunately, a popular writing course at the university cycled the program every few years and fit my schedule.  Writing for Publication brought together students from across disciplines in a joint effort to resurrect old drafts for journal submission.  We dug deeply into Wendy Belcher's Writing Your Journal Article in Twelve Weeks: A Guide to Academic Publishing Success.  I wish I had purchased the actual book rather than the digital version, but her website provides the consumable resources so books can stay "clean."  The intense yet practical approach pushed me to write, revise, share drafts, and revise again while also researching possible journals and attending to specific audience needs.  I finished the course successfully and submitted my manuscript, which I described in a previous blog post.  My waiting resulted in disappointment when it was rejected several months later.  With the bustle of other projects and without the pressure of a grade, I let the manuscript and feedback collect dust.

Over two years later, several pieces of writing lurk within my computer, notebooks, and coursework folders.  I have written drafts of literature reviews and reflections in preparation for my dissertation and some did, in fact, make their way into that behemoth of data and analysis.  I proudly and successfully defended my dissertation (Understanding through Narrative Inquiry: Storying a National Writing Project Initiative) on March 28, 2016.  Imagine my excitement when my committee members said they could see possibilities for six journal articles I could develop from this work.  Six!

Six! Imagine my anxiety knowing I should dissect my beautiful behemoth into smaller beasts for academic journal writing.  I wrote a semi-traditional five-chapter dissertation and pushed its boundaries only slightly with creative mini-narratives to describe findings in chapter four.  How do I distill the essential learning found in my research problem, literature review, methodology, findings and closing discussion chapters?  How do I engage in meaningful academic writing that highlights my insights about professional learning communities, teacher-leadership, planning professional development, trust, and invitation?  These are real questions for which I have not yet found answers, even though I feel it is my responsibility to already know.

I do not step lightly into this task.  For many months I raised and cared for each of these 213 pages.  Now, like Dr. Frankenstein, I have to operate on a monster for these insights to live on.  Thank you in advance, Wendy Belcher, for being my assistant.  And thank you, readers, for your own experiences about how you managed this task.

Wednesday, May 18, 2016

Terminal Degree as the Beginning

As I listened to Ashley Miller speak at the doctoral hooding ceremony about her fears of not graduating, of that dreaded email requiring one more course or one more draft, I realized how real my own fears had become.  The time-line of defending my dissertation at the end of March, addressing the committee's recommendations in early April, sending the revised draft to my adviser soon afterwards, submitting the final dissertation to the graduate school before April 22, and the ceremony on May 13, intensified these fears rather than relieved them.  And when I was in line to step onto the stage, I held back the urge to look inside the cardboard tube with the University of Louisville seal to see if anything was inside.

The ceremony marked the transition to "Doctor" as one to be taken with great responsibility.  Dr. Beth Boehm, vice provost for graduate affairs, assured our families that a terminal degree meant "the end"--no more coursework or dissertation drafts.  Yet, this journey is just beginning.  As doctoral students, we learned how to create new knowledge.  Through our doctoral programs, we discovered the needs within our communities.  Our new terminal degrees have positioned us as researchers, creators, and problem solvers.

Through courses in education and literacy theory, teaching writing, cognitive coaching, and qualitative research design and methods, I discovered the need for "small data."  I am prepared to analyze trends, identify learning gaps, and further disaggregate data as tiny lenses into education; yet, more exists to be seen and heard.  My dissertation research study narrated the stories of a teacher leadership team and the liaisons across the country who developed and implemented a Literacy Design Collaborative professional development workshop called Assignments Matter.  Narratives such as these show us effective ways into big data.  Teacher and student narratives help us see the faces behind the numbers.

Inspired by the speakers' encouraging words, my adviser Dr. Penny Howell's vote of confidence, and my professor Dr. Lori Norton-Meier's special congratulations, I enter the next phase of my education.  Empowered with the knowledge of how to create new knowledge, I attend to the literacy and professional development needs within education through organizations such the Illinois Writing Project.  And although I hesitated to add "Ph.D." to my C.V. until it was official, I now have a signed parchment that no one can take away from me--I'd like to see them try.

Monday, May 2, 2016

Students' Voices at the IWP Writing Palooza

What happens when students, teachers, parents, and grandparents come together in the same space to write and share?  The Illinois Writing Project hosted a Writing Palooza on Saturday, April 30 to find out the answer to that question.  What we discovered far surpassed our expectations.

The Writing Palooza event featured Adrienne Gibbs as the keynote speaker to jump start our day on writing.  She shared lines of poetry from noted authors and some of her own writing from middle school.  Everything and anything can be a story, she encouraged, and writing flourishes when writers discuss their works together.

The morning and afternoon writing sessions and workshops included poetry, soapbox speeches, and memoirs for grades K-2, 3-5, and 6-8.  In the poetry sessions I attended or facilitated, parents and teachers were encouraged to join in the writing and discussions.  The primary focus, though, was empowering students' voices.  

In the middle grades poetry session, R.J. with the Young Chicago Authors invited introductions from everyone.  These introductions were slightly different in that he asked us to rate the day on a scale of 1-10 and share one thing we often think about but do not get to talk about.  How powerful it was for students (and teachers and parents) to answer this question!  Students around the room identified environmental concerns, worries about their neighborhoods, world events, self-destruction, and other issues they have weighing on their minds with no outlet for conversation.  A common thread wove its way across the room.  Yet this space was different than their more familiar settings of school and after school activities--here, students could discuss and, better yet, write.

One girl in our afternoon poetry session rated the day a 10.  I wondered what made this day shine so brightly for her.  Was it her morning session on writing memoirs, perhaps?  Was it the lunch led by The Chicago Community Trust with information about leading #onthetable2016 civic community conversations?  Or maybe she was there with friends who had also found an outlet for their writing passions.  I did not have the chance to ask her, but I did get to hear what she had to say.

The IWP Writing Palooza culminated with an author share in the auditorium where Adrienne Gibbs began our day.  A few of our youngest eagerly started the line, and we watched with amazement as the line perpetually grew longer and never shorter.  The thirty minutes allotted for this part of the day grew into forty-five.  Students shared narratives about their first roller coaster adventures and soapbox speeches about playground repairs or ugly words on bathroom stalls.  And poetry.  Their poetry, like what was written by the girl in the earlier session and the one by another girl, pointed out the unfairness of stereotypes and made me wish a whole community could fit into that auditorium to hear what these students had to say.

I am excited that the Writing Palooza might become an annual event.  But what I realized even more at the end of this incredible day was that students need more than just one annual event for their voices to be heard.  Where is our daily palooza joining communities of students, teachers, and parents together to write and share?  

Tuesday, April 26, 2016

English Language Learners: Learning beyond Professional Development (Part 3)

In my English Learner/Bilingual Methods independent study course I wanted to experience different types of learning experiences.  An Illinois Writing Project in-service day offered two sessions on EL strategies for writing, one in K-5 and the other in 6-12.  This was my first introduction to practical strategies to use with students in the classroom.  During another Writing Project event seven weeks later, I had the opportunity to revisit EL professional learning with the same presenter.  Although some of the content overlapped, the professional development presenter, Melissa*, adapted the strategies and activities to the grade levels during the in-service day and expanded the discussion of standards and assessment during the later session.

Melissa began our in-service sessions with Six-Word Memoirs.  As we tried to introduce ourselves with so few words, we were called upon to succinctly capture the essence of who we are and what we love.  In the morning I wrote this memoir: Wiser for learning words, children, faith.  In the afternoon, I tried my hand at gerunds to describe me: Reading, loving, learning, sharing, teaching, creating.  Other people wrote about children and outside interests, but I do not seem to be that creative.  NPR has a series on Six-Word Memoirs, but teachers must be careful when sharing random selections with students because of possible adult content.  Writing these memoirs shows that words have power in and of themselves without being connected to one another in sentences or paragraphs.  Melissa continued by saying that this activity could be modified with photos, word cards, and sentence frames, which are all appropriate modifications for language learners.

Importantly, teachers must consider two objectives with every lesson: language and content.  To meet these objectives, Melissa urges her district teachers to plan for reading, writing, speaking, and listening in every class.  In our PD sessions, we considered these questions:
How do writing-to-learn and academic conversations shape learning?
What compels me to read and write?
How can we support EL students?
Finding out English language proficiency levels are of primary importance.  English learner development is measured in six levels:
1. Newcomer
2. Emerging—knows and understands phrases
3. Developing—conversational understanding with lots of fillers
4. Expanding—academic language and knowledge of idioms developing
5. Bridging—students may exit the program but still need supports, especially with writing
6. Reaching—fluency
In the morning in-service session, I was first introduced to the language assessments created by WIDA that provide scores for English learners to indicate proficiency levels.  In Illinois, students may be exited from the EL program if they score a composite of 5.0 in writing and 4.2 in reading and math, which are both still at the expanding and bridging levels.  It is important to know what students’ current levels are in order to understand what supports they might need.  The WIDA website provides detailed information including Can Do Statements, helpful for determining the appropriate expectations teacher should have for students at different levels of proficiency.

Melissa cited John Hattie's meta-analysis intended to illuminate the most effective classroom strategies.  The following strategies were noted to have the largest effect sizes and can be adapted to benefit English language learners:
1. Clarity is intentional and purposeful. Teachers know the objectives for language and content and can articulately communicate those objectives to the students.  Teachers must ask, “Do students know what they need to do?”
2.  Lessons include guided, collaborative, and independent tasks.
3.  Tasks are meaningful and engaging.
4. Students can explain the purpose of the lesson and the tasks they are asked to do.
5. Teachers are authentic models.  In language arts and other classrooms, this means that teachers write.
6. Students apply strategies explicitly taught to them.
Melissa also led us in Jeff Anderson’s Power Writing activity, which is a timed writing based on words or images and sets a baseline for writing fluency and endurance.  Power writing is typically completed three times for a minute or two each time.  What is interesting is that often the second timed writing has the largest word count.  For this activity, Melissa used two unrelated pictures, but this activity could use pairs of words or phrases.  When we completed two timed writings on our picture choice, I noticed that the first image related to a memory, so I was immediately able to write.  This prompted me to consider that pictures could be content or academic related or culture related or family, etc depending on the purpose for the classroom writing activity.  These timed writings could also be included in the writer’s notebook and used for seeds for future writing opportunities (see Buckner, 2005 for more writer's notebook ideas).  Capturing writing in this way would allow students opportunities to return to their ideas and expand them.  One strategy would be to use short, timed writings at the beginning of a unit and then at the end of a unit to compare the quantity and/or quality of the writing or words.

But no matter how much knowledge and training teachers have, classrooms pose daily challenges and learning opportunities.  In last week's PD event, Melissa shared that she and a 7th grade language arts teacher have been conducting a study to document the supports students need at different proficiency levels.  For the most recent writing assignment, students were to use a folktale model and write their own "fractured" fairytale/folktale story.  However, she and the language arts teacher recognized late in the unit that they had left out some essential scaffolding.  The English learner students did not have a solid understanding of narrative structure, a cornerstone of successfully completing the writing assignment.  For example, one student had worked diligently on his piece for two weeks, but when he shared with the class, his onomatopoeias, simple sentences, and fragments lacked the essential narrative storytelling quality.  The bigger insight she shared with us that evening was that the safe classroom environment allowed this student to share his work without fear of judgment.  This student knew his writing would be received positively, and he would gain constructive feedback from his peers.

Feeling safe.  Some weeks ago, I attended an informational program about the refugee experience.  Later I learned from Melissa that if a school has twenty or more students who speak the same language, districts must provide a devoted EL teacher resource for them.  With the influx of immigrants, particularly refugees, in different areas around Chicago and the suburbs, this mandate has put a strain on several schools working to stay in compliance with the state.  And for some immigrants there may not be a choice of where or when, which is what I learned during a "walk-in-a-refugee's-shoes" activity during the refugee experience program.  As my semester progressed, my coursework was complicating my thinking in unexpected ways about what it meant to teach in diverse classrooms.  My next step would be to visit some.

Suggested resources:
Maria Nichols (2006) Comprehension through Conversation can be a cornerstone for early to mid elementary instruction.
Peter Johnston (2004) encourages teachers to speak to students in the language of literacy.  If we call students writers then they will become writers.
Stephanie Harvey and Ann Gouva’s Reading the World video series can be helpful for exploring culture; however, Amazon only lists the VHS version.
Zwiers and Crawford (2011) Academic Conversations.

*All names are pseudonyms.

Thursday, January 9, 2014

Writing for Publication Fears

It is finally here--the last semester of coursework before I conquer comprehensive exams, submit a proposal, conduct research, write a dissertation, defend the dissertation, and finish.  So perhaps the end is not really in sight at all.  The strange thing is I am more worried about successfully completing one of my classes this semester than I have been about coursework since my first few weeks in the literacy program.  As a qualitative researcher, I would have thought statistics might rank as the biggest scare, but it so far has not come close to what I fear in "Writing for Publication."

In this class, we are expected to submit a polished manuscript to a journal (in addition to reading, responding, discussing, etc.).  Why is this task so frightening?  In previous semesters, I have gathered data, coded, used data software, written memos, and summarized findings.  I have written literature reviews, compiled digital portfolios with extensive hyperlinks, and mindmapped my heart out.  I have submitted conference proposals (and presented), redesigned a course syllabus, and planned workshops.  The journey to this point has been rich with incredible learning experiences.  So what makes this class different?  The audience just got tougher.

First of all, I have no idea what my topic might be.  My inclination is to pick up a narrative I worked on last semester about co-teaching with a friend of mine.  Yet, even though it has embedded research, it is still a narrative which may not find a journal home.  Another thought is to flesh out the experiences of last summer's institute attendees as we begin planning for next summer.  This appeals to me right now in ways it didn't before I had to think about what to write for this class.

Next, I am not sure which journal I should woo.  Most familiar are Journal of Adolescent and Adult Literacy, English Journal, Voices in the Middle, and Language Arts.  Others are probably more appropriate for what I will write, though.  I am not really interested in writing about strategies at this point but about experiences in particular learning conditions--especially the adult learners (teachers) during professional development.

All these obstacles will be overcome with time.  Fortunately, I know the professor pretty well.  She, along with the others in the class, will do what we always do in this PhD program--support and push.  I have already made progress in pushing away the fears of writing by, yes, writing.  My phantom audience has allowed me to voice my concern, list my strengths, and discuss some action items (thank you).  I feel the familiar release that writing gives me.  And for now the fog clears.