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Northwest Education Fall 1998

In This Issue

In This Issue

Seeking Common Ground

In the Beginning

For the Love of a Book

Leading with the Heart

When Life and Words Collide

Creating Eager Readers

Book Buddy

Peaceful Proposal

About This Issue

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Susan Marchese's students learn to love reading, delve for meaning, and challenge themselves: LEADING WITH THE HEART

WHIDBEY ISLAND, Washington—They don’t know it, but residents of a Puget Sound port owe a debt of gratitude to a woman who taught third grade in Rocky Point, New York, some 20 years ago. Lynn Petersen was wielding the chalk at Joseph A. Edgar Elementary School when Susan Marchese was a child. It was in Petersen’s class that Marchese was inspired to follow in her teacher’s footsteps, a path that led her to Whidbey Island and a blackboard of her own.

Just up the road from the mussel rafts of Penn Cove and the turn-of-the-century storefronts of Coupe- ville’s town center, is Coupe- ville Elementary School, where Marchese teaches a multiage class of first-, second-, and third-graders. Her students are learning far more than the mechanics of literacy. Inspired by their teacher’s enthusiasm for the written word and guided by her creative instructional approach, these students are learning to love books and to delve deeply into the literature they read.

In a 1996 research study conducted by the Northwest Regional Educational Laboratory’s Assessment and Evaluation Program, Marchese’s students far surpassed their peers in reading comprehension. In the study, teachers were asked to read a fable to their class and then ask students to respond to a simple prompt, designed to gauge their level of evaluative thinking. After reading "The Camel Dances" in a collection by Arnold Lobel, students at other schools had trouble interpreting the tale, which is about a camel who follows her dream to dance. But the essays that Marchese’s students wrote about the fable included analysis of the deeper meaning of the fable. It was clear to researchers that Marchese’s approach to teaching reading comprehension was working.

Marchese focuses on finding "ways to make students want to learn and love it," she says. "They have to love what they’re doing."

AN ABUNDANCE OF BOOKS

Books are the heart of the classroom. Because reading is the key to all learning, students need access to books—an abundance of books, "a lot of really great literature," Marchese says.

There are shelves of books, boxes of books, racks of books. There are Caldecott award-winners and Newberry picks, books that have been recommended by other educators and books that have not. In fact, the walls are so covered with resource information that the classroom itself reads like a book.

"Many of the books are organized by subject, and not necessarily by level," she says, showing a visitor around her classroom. "I also have some organized by level. White, for example, indicates a beginner’s box; then I have red, blue, and green. And, of course, there are the chapter books. And books organized by author."

Shelves and bins are clearly marked to help students find what they want. Authors like Dr. Seuss, Eric Carle, and Laura Ingalls Wilder are all identified, as are series like Anne of Green Gables and The Chronicles of Narnia. Subject headings include such topics as cowboys, holidays, and biographies.

"It looks chaotic, I think, if you’re an outsider coming in," says parent volunteer Nicki Hall. "But through the year, I see that it really works for the kids. Whatever a student wants, they can find."

The arrangement makes it easy for students to pursue their interests, something that Marchese believes is crucial. It’s a sort of lead-with-the-heart-and-the-brain-will-follow philosophy.

"If they’re interested in a certain subject, they can find books that will pique their interest," she says. "If they like a certain author, they know where to find more."

When students are asked what kind of books they enjoy, their responses are generally predictable.

"Books about dogs," says one student.

"Detective stories," says another.

Ben, however, has a surprising answer, considering he’s only eight. "My favorite is realistic fiction."

To clarify his answer, he explains, "That’s something that could really happen, but didn’t. It’s not a true story."

Ben has learned about realistic fiction, as well as other genres of literature, from Marchese. One of her wall displays includes definitions not only for realistic fiction, but also for historical fiction, science fiction, folklore, fantasy, poetry, biography, and informational books.

"The standards I set are high," she says, "but the kids need to be challenged."

This may be one of Marchese’s biggest strengths as a teacher. She sees no limit to what students can learn. Whatever their level, she makes sure they climb higher.

Challenging students at a wide range of levels is critical in a multiage classroom.

"I think that’s always a concern with multiage," says Marchese. "People see that first-graders are challenged because of the third-grade exposure. But they worry about the third-graders. In fact, most of what I do is at a third-grade level, and I’m constantly looking for ways to challenge the more advanced students."

But that doesn’t mean she neglects the more basic needs of first- and second-year students.

"This year," she says, "I had a number of beginners who needed extra help. So I focused a lot on skills work—like phonics, for example. I really hit phonics hard this year, and the second- and third-year students benefitted from the reinforcement as well."

On the issue of phonics versus whole language, Marchese is adamant that you can’t teach one without the other. "I don’t think you can separate them. They go together. I mean, how could they not?" she asks. "I get frustrated when I hear about teachers who are just teaching phonics, or they’re just doing whole language. I don’t know how you could take one away from the other." Marchese alternates between whole-language and enrichment projects (such as literature groups), and skills practice (such as phonics or spelling).

For assessment, Marchese logs a fair amount of one-on-one time with children, using a variation of a running-record model (see Creating Eager Readers for more on running records), where she examines how students decode what they read and why. She gives book tests, as well, to make sure students are performing at the level the district requires.

"If someone does get stuck, I try to guide them," Marchese says. She arranges for paired reading, in which one student can prompt the other. She also provides one-on-one time with a parent volunteer. "And," she adds, "it’s important to choose just-right books."

How does one determine if a book is "just right?"

"Well, there’s the five-finger rule," Marchese explains. "If they miss more than five words on a page, it’s probably too difficult.

If they can read the whole thing quickly, without any difficulty, it’s probably not challenging enough. During independent reading time, I can help them sort it out."

She also has printed handouts for parents who assist in the classroom or work with their child at home. These include hints for helping a child sound out or decipher words, as well as an idea of the kind of questions to ask to gauge comprehension.

Indeed, comprehension questions are an extremely important component of Marchese’s approach to teaching literacy. At storytime, for example, Marchese will stop before opening a book and ask students what the title suggests. Throughout the story, she’ll pause to ask questions to make sure students are processing what they’re hearing. When students take the "author’s chair" to share a story they’ve written, it’s always more than a recitation. The class listens carefully, because discussion follows. At poetry time, which takes place once a week, students not only practice their presentation capabilities, but spend time comparing new poems to others they’ve read.

LITERATURE CIRCLES

Eventually, students learn to ask the questions themselves. In literature circles, one of the children’s favorite activities, Marchese lets students choose one of a handful of books. Small study groups are then formed based on same-book selection, and these groups read the book together, a little at a time, stopping along the way to discuss what’s happening.

A group that calls itself "Hot Diggity Dog" is reading Nate the Great and the Missing Key, a story in which readers are given clues to help solve the mystery. One student has been given the job of holding the "question" card, a visual remind- er to ask salient questions and keep on track. "So where’s the key?" he asks, as the group flips pages back to a clue-laden passage. Citing this excerpt, they surmise that the key is on Fang’s collar and not with the parents, as they previously thought.

When they’ve finished their book, each group "celebrates" by coming up with a creative project related to the story they’ve read. This may be a puppet show or a play, a mobile or a painting, or any one of a whole list of ideas posted on the wall. The members of Hot Diggity Dog are pondering their options, when one member suggests making a board game called "Find the Key." Teammates leap on the idea.

"Yeah, we can have pieces that you turn over to see if the key’s there," says one.

"What about a space with a banana peel that says, ‘Go back five spaces?’" asks another.

In group and solo reading projects, students summarize story lines in individual response logs, a task that helps them process the information.

"Reading and writing go together," Marchese states. "That’s a really important link."

Because the thought process is paramount, the first focus of writing projects is to get thoughts down on paper, without stopping to edit.

"Techniques of grammar and spelling are taught after children experience the thrill of expressing themselves in writing," writes Marchese in a parent handout. Unfettered by an internal editor, students write freely in their journals every day, recording significant events, summarizing book passages, jotting down ideas for stories.

On other assignments, however, students learn to apply spit and polish. The six-trait writing assessment process, a model developed by the Northwest Regional Educational Laboratory, has been an enormous help, according to Marchese. "It’s been really great in terms of writing and reading."

Students apply the six traits—ideas, organization, voice, word choice, sentence fluency, and conventions—in "publishing" books of their own. Starting with an idea, they write a story draft, revise it, edit it, and finally "publish" it— adding illustrations, a cover, a publishing date, and a brief author bio.

Here’s how a book by third-grader Elyse begins: " Down," I yell as the 10-month-old puppy jumps on the guest. "Down, Beau!" He runs over to me, tongue hanging out, a smile on his face. That’s my puppy, Beau. A jumpy, happy, black-and-white 10-month-old puppy.

The work demonstrates that Elyse is far past simple Dick-and-Jane sentence structure and has even begun to grasp concepts like establishing voice and employing interesting details, in addition to using more complex mechanics. Later in the story, she even ventures into metaphors when she compares the shape of a dog toy to a snowman. She is extremely proud of her book and is already thinking of the next one.

Like others in the class, Elyse clearly loves what she’s doing. In fact, it’s not unusual to see Marchese’s students sitting inside at recess. First-grader Katie elects to stay in to finish a piece on orcas. Third-grader Ben is hard at work on a book celebration project. When the schedule occasionally gets off track, and Marchese cuts down on silent, sustained reading time, students are disappointed.

TEACHING OPS

Marchese never misses an opportunity to teach. Instead of having students draw crayon hearts or flowers for Mother’s Day cards, Marchese invents a more meaningful project.

"What’s the first place you remember?" she asks her students. "The first place you lived?"

A dozen hands shoot up.

"I lived in Alaska, " says one child.

"I’ve always lived here," says another.

"What do you remember about the place you lived?" Marchese asks. "Describe it."

When they answer, she prompts them with further questions: "What color was the fence? Were there any flowers in the garden?"

Once they have a picture in mind, she has them transfer the image to paper.

When storytime arrives later in the day, Marchese introduces a book called What You Know First. For the next 20 minutes, chins rest on elbows and knees, pigtails hang motionless, eyes are glued to the book in Marchese’s hands. After the enchantment of the story has ended, Marchese pulls them back into the classroom with a simple question: What do you think the story is about?

The more advanced third-graders wave their hands frantically, but Marchese waits for some of the first- and second-graders to speak. Little by little, they sort through the events of the story, and Marchese weaves the older students into the discussion, letting them prompt the young- er. It turns out the story is about a farm on which a young girl lived, the first place she remembers. The children’s eyes light up when they grasp the connection to the pictures they’ve just drawn.

Excited, they continue to discuss the story, Marchese prompting them further with questions about sensory details. A student remembers a reference to a cow’s soft ear. Another remembers the scent of hay. Next, the students put pencil to paper to write their stories, taking care to include details like those in the story they’ve just heard.

This learning experience is something mothers will undoubtedly appreciate more than a generic holiday message.

A number of these mothers— and some fathers—visit the classroom to help out.

"I’m Susan’s biggest advocate," says parent volunteer Amy Hauser. "I mean, there are a lot of teachers who have just one grade level, and they don’t really have a handle on where their students are, assessmentwise. Susan really knows where each kid is at, and how to challenge each one at their level.

"And she does it creatively," Hauser continues. "Last year, she did this thing with imagery. It was wonderful. She would read a section from a story that included references to imagery, and then the children would draw a picture of what they envisioned. In their pictures, they would include key words that helped them visualize. I remember one day, she even read a passage from Snow Falling On Cedars (a bestseller by Northwest author by David Guterson)."

"If I’m reading something that strikes me," Marchese says, "I’ll bring it in and tell the kids, ‘I really like this part in this book I’m reading,’ and I’ll share a little bit with them."

Children, it’s true, learn from example. And Marchese sets a good one. Students get excited about reading and writing and learning in this classroom, in part because their teacher gets excited about reading and writing and learning.

Perhaps Dan Sakaue, Principal of Coupeville Elementary, says it best: "She’s the kind of teacher you want your kids to have."

There is no doubt that Marchese has made an impact that will extend far beyond Coupeville and even Whidbey Island. In fact, second-grader Katie has already announced her plan to follow in Marchese’s footsteps.

"When I grow up," she says, "I want to be a teacher like Ms. Marchese."

And so the path continues.

Students have to love what they're doing - Susan Marchese

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