I’d like to use a word I just read in a book, used by an actual doctor, which makes it a real word. The word is problatunity. My Grammarly app just put a big red line under that word telling me I better fix it. I’ll use it in a sentence: Teaching writing is a problatunity.
Don’t you just love when people take two words and smoosh them together and make a new word? Why not? Its two things we know, problem and opportunity, and creating something new and more delicious. Like the first person who decided to put peanut butter and jelly into the same sandwich. Problatunity.
Yes, it’s a problem and an opportunity. In order to turn that frown upside down, let’s focus on the bright spots, build on the strengths, and look for what’s working.
Here’s some opportunities:
Writing is connection. A writer uses craft and structure to reach out into the world, searching for another heart and mind to create a spark. A spark, which if tended and encouraged can become a fire, giving warmth and comfort.
Writing is expression. It’s art. We have this desire to be seen and loved for who we really are. Writing is a mirror for ourselves and others. It shows us the way, or reminds us of what is important.
Writing is a conversation, happening regardless of time and space. If there were no one to read the writing, would it still be writing? If a tree falls in the woods…
Here’s some problems:
Writing is a privilege. There are many who might like the freedom to raise their voice without persecution. Most of the time the persecution comes from the very same pen that did the writing in the first place.
Writing is translation. It is essentially trying to express abstract thoughts into organized concrete symbols on a page in a way that conveys meaning. Think of all the processes those thoughts have to go through, all the decisions that have to be made. Ug, it’s exhausting. I’m exhausted right now.
Writing is hard. Words on a page are tangible, real. Words you write have the potential to stay. Anything you write can and will be used against you. Yes, we have freedom of speech in this country, but a verbal contract just isn’t what it used to be. I’m just sayin’, seems like writing matters a bit more.
Writing is rules. Every good writer knows the rules. All of them? And how do you use a semicolon again? Don’t get me started on spelling.
Here’s the problatunity:
According to something called the Standford Study of Writing, we are in a writing revolution folks. Hallelujah. More people are writing now than ever before: social media, emails, reports, books, posters, blog posts, etc. Writing is actually working. As in, it’s doing some work in the world. Writing is creating change. And as things change, rules change.
However, the rules may not be changing, we are. This writer calls rules lampposts in an ash-ridden apocalypse. Boy do I love me some lampposts on a dark and dreary night.
Maybe this means we actually like rules, just not when they hold us back. We want to get out there and create new rules, rules that keep us safe but also allow us to explore and discover and create our own rules.
Its kinda hilarious that the problem is almost always the solution. Life, this funny thing. Rules are the way, know them, break them. I’m sure some yoda-like character said that in some movie, somewhere.
Here’s the application:
How can we take what is working in the world and recognize it in our students? That’s really what we should be doing every day right? Seeing ability in our kids, naming it for and with them, and guiding them through how to use it in powerful ways.
Students are learning the rules. All the time. Rules for this classroom are different than the rules in that classroom. Rules for the cafeteria, rules for the playground. Rules for friendships, rules for safety, and on and on we go.
To be honest. I love rules. I almost dare say I can’t function without them. When I walk into a room, I immediately try to figure out the rules. Knowing the rules helps me understand how to behave, because I also like to have fun. Having fun usually includes breaking the little rules. The really tiny rules. The ones no one really cares about. Ya, I’m that crazy party animal breaking all the tiny invisible rules. Back it up everyone.
The point is, how can we teach our kids the rules, but also how to break them?
Let’s remember that the rules for writing are lampposts. They are guidelines. Practice. Write every single day. Play. We learn the rules and we decide if they apply today. Writing, people, I’m talking about writing.
Here’s the Practice:
When teaching writing in our classrooms, we want our students to see more of the opportunities and less of the problems. It is time to lower the stakes. Low-stakes writing is defined by where the value is placed. As teacher’s we often place all the value in writing on the rules, otherwise known as grammar and conventions.
What if we emphasized the value of the student thought, expression, and ideas? Students have learned to keep quiet. Specifically, “be quiet” is generally a rule in education. Let’s break it.
What if we develop a practice of writing where none of the rules matter? What matters is that they stop editing and revising their thinking before it ever even gets to the page. You can bet they have a lot to say. I dare you to sit down with an eleven year old and ask them about anything.
Here’s the Magic:
Set a timer. Set it for 2 minutes. Stop. Count your words. Set a goal for more words tomorrow. Share your writing if you want.
That’s it folks. The magic is in the time limit. Its the only rule.
Ah, and rules are meant to be broken.
Read my 6 Big Reasons to Love a Writer’s Notebook post for additional classroom structures that will have your students loving writing and you reading their minds!
What Do You Do With A Problem by Kobi Yamada speaks to everything I have mentioned above and is a powerful read for humans.
Ish by Peter H. Reynolds is one of my favorite mentor texts for supporting students as they learn to let go and write a first draft.
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