SSI Intervention: Day 1

It started a little rough 

I couldn't sleep last night thinking of how today would go.  Would they show up?  Would they participate? Would they rebel?

Then of course when it was time to drag my sorry butt out of bed, I was slow, which imperiled my plan to leave early.  I heard some rodent scratching underneath my kitchen cabinets, so I kicked the cabinet willing it to stop.  It didn't.  

Then when I slid into my driver's seat exactly one minute ahead of schedule, I felt the unpleasant damp sensation through my pants which alerted me to the fact that we had left my sunroof open overnight when a rain shower rolled through.  My son likes to stand on the console through the sunroof in order to survey his dominion. This was the first time we forgot to shut it, and the evidence was all over the back of my clothes.  I ran back inside, grabbed a Tinkerbell beach towel, hoping it would absorb most of the moisture.  It didn't.  

I get to school and I've left my lunch on the kitchen table and my coffee in the fridge. Oh, and of course, several colleagues walk in with me, so I feel compelled to tell them the sunroof story. Awkward? Why yes, it was. (Silver lining: Admin fed us today! Yeah, Funyuns!) 

I get to class, and I've forgotten to print some graphic organizers for my partner teacher in case the copies didn't make it in time.  They didn't. She can't access the attendance in her Google Drive, so that needed to be printed, too.  And, oh crap, I just knew I had some more index cards.  I don't.  All of this before 7:25 when the bell rings and our first students start to arrive. 

So I flip the switch

Good morning! Did you have a good weekend? Oh, yes, I have ear buds you can borrow during your break. Yes, you're in my group first. Nope, you don't need a pencil unless you don't like writing with scented markers. You can sit at any table, just grab a book off the cart before you sit down.  Oh, yes, thanks. I'm doing great! I'm excited that you're here.  

Guys Write for Guys Read

The Lesson

Today's lessons were from my favorite collection of short stories to use in intervention, Guys Write for Guys Read, edited by Jon Scieszka. I love using this book because it's written exclusively by male authors, poets, illustrators, news & sports writers and editors, and all of the stories revolve around the theme of what it means to be a guy. Not surprisingly, guys slightly outnumber girls in reading intervention, but even girls love reading about the crazy things guys do.  

My lessons all have a kinesthetic element because I will lose them if they don't move around, so today's lesson involved centers.  They read; they answered individual open-ended questions on an index card and then placed their card in the box.  Then they moved to the next station at their own pace. With about 15 minutes left, I divided the students evenly among the centers where they would take on the role of teacher.  They could use their own entry or select any entry from the box to use as the basis for their answer.  They would then in turn remind the class of the answer and present their best answer to the question.  We listen; we evaluate using hand-signals, and we celebrate. Repeat until every center has been expertly taught.  

A "recipe box" center from a 7th grade rotation, pre-SSI

The efficacy

Over 15% of the students missed all or part of their intervention.  On day 1.  Some kids had missed so much of last week that they hadn't been notified yet. No one likes having to get or give that kind of information on the fly. As far as behavior problems, I'm fortunate to already have relationships with the vast majority of these kids because I could see them resisting the temptation to rebel.  

To know their personalities is to know what motivates them or what will shut them down.  I know that if C starts to complain, then I can start singing to shut him up.  I know that I can appeal to J's desire to be a leader. I know that it would be more effective for A to do three centers well than to rush through six. I know that V & G will work if they aren't together, but N works best if she has a partner like B. I was asked to arm wrestle a student more than once today.  One kid asked me if I still kept the video from two years ago of me falling in the hallway that my principal was kind enough to copy from the security footage. (I do)  And I did have to sing, "Do You Wanna Build a Snowman", but only twice. 

It would be ludicrous to only hire a temporary tutor attempt to make progress in this system because they would only be address cognitive deficits, not the socio-cultural or affective domains. I feel for kids who have to go through this process with virtual strangers.  We're teaching kids not empty vessels waiting to be filled with the right knowledge. '

I'm glad these kids don't view me as a stranger.  This might be my best Day 1 yet.  

Personal Note:  When I drove home on my still-damp seat and made my son cry because he will no longer be surveying his dominion from the sunroof, I did find a lovely surprise in my mailbox: I have been selected to receive an academic scholarship to help pay what I lack in my masters courses.  Two-thirds done! Hooray!

What does SSI stand for, anyway?

April, sweet, April.  

While most teachers are breathing a collective sigh of sweet relief that testing is finally over, I'm gearing up for another intense round of S.S.I., or Student Success Initiative to the uninitiated.  It really is my favorite time of year but also the toughest.  

In Texas, 8th graders must pass the STAAR Reading test to be eligible to move on to high school.  In most years, they must also pass the math, but thanks to some shifty-shifts in the state standards, math is off the hook this year.  My friends A & R are very happy about this stroke of luck.  So am I, come to think about it, since I don't have to try to remediate around math's intervention schedule. (IOW, we can do what's best, not just what's most convenient.)  It also means that student who failed both tests won't have to spend literally their entire test day in intervention.  You can imagine what that does for morale.  

Phase 1:

Of course the first step of SSI is notification. Our student notification process is admittedly a bit complicated, involving a holding room, grade level teachers, an inclusion teacher, two intervention specialists, and the counselor, not to mention the APs who were calling parents.  We explain their results, tell them what to expect for the immediate future, let them ask questions, & hand them a summer school application.  That's right: if they are unsuccessful a second time, then they are heading to summer school.  We're not worrying about that yet.  They are assigned a small intervention group and told they won't be in a few of their classes for the next two weeks.   

The Demographics:

A few of them thought they were in some sort of trouble receiving a discipline action. Several are no strangers to the principal's office for tardies, absenteeism, disrespectful behavior or classroom disruptions.  Ultimately, they were happy to be out of class and caused a ruckus in the holding room.  A few kids in this group come from unspeakable circumstances, so the results of this test rank right up there with the ozone layer in terms of the "I couldn't care less" radar.  Others have no parental support, no bedtime, no one telling them to go to school, no one making sure they take their meds.  No one to be disappointed. 

A few were crestfallen even emotional.  Too sad to even talk. They knew they struggled, but they'd hoped that just maybe they had eeked out a passing grade.  Now their hopes for the summer and beyond were put on hold.  Some kids in this group have parents who expect great things for them, who make plans for vacations that may now have to be postponed, who have best friends who are "gifted and talented" and receive academic awards.  They feel as though they have disappointed everyone.

The largest group of them knew why they were there.  They'd had been in an intervention class for years. We weren't telling them anything they didn't already know. They are Special Ed students who have never passed in the six years they've been taking standardized tests.  They are the immigrant students who came from tiny impoverished schools and whose time in the country could easily be calculated in months, not years, but still are expected to take and pass the exact same test.  They are the ESL-lifers who try, really try, but just can't shake the label.  They're not disappointed because this is who they've come to believe they are.  

What's next?

Bright and early Monday morning, small groups of frustrated eighth graders will trickle down to my little corner of the school and begin a regimen of intervention.  I've picked the absolutely best partner teacher whose expertise perfectly complements my own. We've been given top-notch support staff who bring both energy and experience.  I've got a principal who loves kids first and lets everything else come second. I've got administrators who trust me to do what's best for kids. They haven't saddled me with any unreasonable expectations or forced a workbook down their throats.  I've got a school full of teachers who are writing personalized letters to each student and not compounding the problem by forcing them to make up the work they're missing. I've got a team who have shared their own lessons with me on top of their regular responsibilities and who put up with a fair bit of inconvenience to accommodate this intervention, and still their response is just, "What else to you need?" Yes, I feel very lucky.  

This weekend, I'm gearing up, as I have been in my mind for weeks.  I'm bringing my A-Game: I'm busting out the smelly markers, the personalized folders, the PINK Starbursts, the music, the picture books, the literacy centers, the videos, the rolly chairs, the comfy couches, the technology, the stickers, the novel choices, the puppets and the brain breaks.  But mostly, I'm bringing the positive; I'm bringing the relationships; I'm bringing the engagement.  Maybe, we can bring back that swagger.  

Time to Tell Your S.T.O.R.Y. -A Guide to Narrative Writing

For 7th graders in Texas, March means prepping for the STAAR Writing Exam.  Fortunately, our kids write consistently throughout the year, so the idea of writing a couple of one-pagers doesn't phase them.  However, the specific expectations of the state require that students demonstrate some key skills in their responses.  

Though I'm an interventionist who works with kids every day, I also am in a supportive role as the D.C. We all have a common planning period, so I plan with each of the three grade-level teams once a week, plus we have a department meeting most Wednesdays.  I've worked as a campus-based strategist/coach in the past, so I've rather settled into that role once again; as a result, I help to plan a lot of lessons, which is one of my favorite parts of teaching!  

My principal allowed me to attend the Texas Council for Teachers of English Language Arts conference this year, so I wasted no time implementing my favorite takeaways.  Before I even left, I found a great expository acronym in the TCTELA journal that I shared with my team via a Prezi, which they, in turn, shared with our students.  While they felt like it allowed from some great AHA! moments for expository writing, they naturally requested a narrative equivalent.  

Disclaimer (of sorts):  Let me state right off the bat that this is not an intervention, but rather a tool for first-time instruction.  So many times we beat the proverbial dead-horse trying to reach that last 10% that just aren't getting it, that the average or advanced kid doesn't get any new tools for their own tool kits.  Whole-group writing instruction tends to be among the worst offenders.  We can't just relax when we get reluctant writers to write; we have to create an environment where all writers can grow. <steps off soapbox> 

So that's why I wrote a guide that assumes a basic level or writing ability (coherence, organization, conventions) and that hopefully challenges all writers to improve their craft.  

Here's what I came up with for the acronym S.T.O.R.Y.:

See my Prezi from the website HERE

S: Start Strong, Stay Strong:

Your intro should hook your reader, it's true. But don't stop there! Any story can have ONE good part, but great writing is well-developed throughout. Include only key details, descriptive language and precise word choice. (But don't abuse the thesaurus!)

Six Traits Foci:  Idea Development and Word Choice.

This "slide" reminds students that they must remain consistent throughout the entire paper in order to be considered "satisfactory". We revisit Gretchen Bernabei's BA-DA-BING  strategy.  We "Prove It".  We "SMAPHO".  We practice "hooks".  I love to include this clip from Friends of Joey abusing the the-saurus.  NOTE:  Please trim it or start at :14 to avoid an inappropriate reference!

T: Transitions Save the Day:

Transitions are the words and phrases used to keep the story moving at an brisk pace-to keep your reader interested. Connectors are the cousins of transitions. These conjunctions, pronouns and prepositions connect ideas within sentences while transitions connect ideas sentence-to-sentence.

Six Traits Focus:  Sentence Fluency
For such small little words, transitions pack a huge punch in terms of polishing a piece of writing.  Middle school readers are learning to develop their ideas but often lose their reader while moving between them.  We teach them to identify relationships between sentences to pick the most appropriate transition or conjunction.  

O: Originality is Key:

No one can tell your story as well as you can. Likewise, you cannot tell a made-up tale with as much detail and conviction as you can your own true, authentic story. Why? Because you are writing what you know! Narrative writing should be expressive and significant. Your reader should have zero doubt as to why you chose to write about this event over any other life event you could have chosen.

Six Traits Focus:  Voice

Middle school writers are generally insecure, so their comfort zone extends only as far as they sound like everyone else.  Voice is an abstract concept, undefinable but clearly recognizable when present.  Mentor texts provide published exemplars for young writers. We think through the models pointing out attributes as the logical next step in the process.  Many times voiceless writing lacks specificity, so we practice including thoughts and imagery among plot events.  

R: Revise Wisely:

When you read back over your own writing, chances are you are either in love with what you've written so far or you are so sick of the process that you just want to be done. Either way, you're draft likely gets published fairly untouched. NOT WISE! Drafting involves writing from the heart while revising is writing with your brain.  YOU NEED A PLAN! Use the D.R.A.F.T. process to revise each part of your paper and watch it come alive!

Six Traits Focus:  All 

Revision is another intangible for students who often confuse it with editing for errors.  At that TCTELA conference, I forewent waiting in Christopher Paul Curtis' book-signing line to attend Jeff Anderson's and Deborah Dean's workshop named after their new book Revision Decisions.  They define the acronym D.R.A.F.T. as a plan for revising sentences. I scooped up that book, came home from the con on Sunday, and began implementing it on Monday. For the first time, struggling and average writers understood what they were supposed to do during revision. The recognize choppiness, repetition and wordiness. In a recent reflection exercise, the vast majority of students declared it the year's most valuable strategy and one they intend to use on future writing.  Here's a link to Jeff Anderson's website where you can purchase the book.-No, I don't get a kickback; I'm not that kind of blogger.  But you should get this book, like yesterday.    

Y: Your Story is a Gift, So Wrap It Up

Pay particular attention to how you conclude your story. Thoughtfully consider the final impression you wish to leave on your reader. A reflective conclusion is when the narrator thinks back to how he or she felt at the of the time of the event but then reveals current thoughts and feelings as his or her older and wiser self. This further emphasizes the reason you wrote this in the first place.

Six Traits Focus:  Organization

Plenty of resources exist to help readers choose a great "hook", but conclusions don't get quite the same treatment.  Many middle schoolers just end their stories abruptly devoid of ceremony while others add a generic statement which makes their story sound like an expository essay with an anecdote.  Writers need to learn to transition from the moment to their present minds in order to reinforce the story's relevance and bring closure.  

In conclusion, 

Well-meaning decision-makers will often over-emphasize tested subjects and de-emphasize those that are only tested intermittently, such as writing.  The caveat of these choices is that students lose their writing confidence and forget their best strategies in these off-years.  The best writing instruction is consistently self-selected reading that are natural mentor texts for impressionable writers.  Additionally, authentic writing tasks and abundant opportunities to play with written language further serve to strengthen student mojo.  Occasionally, they will still benefit from specific, common sense reminders of simple improvements they can aim toward.  

What letter (strategy) would you have added to my acronym?  

Hey Kid, Your Literacy is Showing!

"Hey, Mrs. J, you know what this reminds me of?  This story reminds me of how the society saw the Socs and the Greasers in The Outsiders. You know how even though the Socs did the same things as the Greasers, people thought they were better kids because they were richer?"

"You're right, dude. Do you realize that you just made a text-to-text connection? And when did you read the Outsiders?"  Delighted inside, I thought: Be careful, kid...your literacy is showing.  

"Oh, uh, Mrs. P. is reading it to us.  I don't really listen though."  And just like that, the bubble is popped.  He realized that he had exposed a glimpse of the metacognitive processes of his brain, thus deviating from his social group's manifesto-Passive Disengagement.  

Scenes like this play out almost regularly in my eighth-grade intervention class which is filled with what the system dubs "struggling readers", "low-achievers" and "reluctant learners."  What the system didn't bargain for was a subculture of students who've now joined together in this new identity and have little-to-no interest in ever getting out of it. 

As a reading interventionist, I've worked directly with these students in some form or fashion for the past five years not counting my years as a regular ELA classroom teacher. I've learned some surprisingly common characteristics about intervention students which drive my teaching practices.  

1.  They are diverse. They are not all poor.  They are not all male.  They are not all LEP.  They are not all from broken homes.  They are not all non-Caucasian.  Sure, I have kids that represent many of these stereotypes, but I also have the popular, well-dressed white girls whose parents are pillars of the community.  You never know.   

They are also just as diverse in their skill level.  Some have excellent comprehension skills but cannot read between the lines.  Some can read long passages with beautifully fluent articulation, but can't tell you a thing they just read.  Some cannot decode or retain first grade sight words.  Some come to us as 13-year-olds with virtually no formal education.  

Diversity should be celebrated, but it can be a teacher's greatest challenge. Interventions should be just as differentiated as a regular classroom.  They need choices; they need physical state changes; they need to thoughtfully challenged.   They need the most talented teachers in the school who know how to create a lesson that is engaging, relevant and rigorous.  

2.  There's more going on than a skills gap.   If workbooks and test prep were the answer, then just about anyone could teach my students.  But by the time low-achieving readers reach middle school, their reading gaps are compounded by their own negative self-image.  They don't identify themselves as readers or writers, and school is something that has to be endured rather than enjoyed.  

Our collective answer has been to attack the gaps, i.e. to address the cognitive deficits in isolation.  However, even with intensive, data-driven interventions, these students are falling further behind their typically-performing peers.  The causes for their deficits are complex and varied.  It very well may have started with a language barrier, an unstable home life, or a sketchy educational background, but many students overcome these obstacles and catch up.  The question we need to be asking is how do we address their cognitive gaps while still accounting for the needs of the whole student?  

3.  They want to belong.  Thankfully, so many of my students over the years have had something "else" in which they excel:  football, art, band, drama, soccer, choir, basketball, etc.  Maybe they're very involved in an a youth group or have a very close-knit family or cultural community.  Regardless, we can build on the confidence and security they feel within this group and try to extend into the world of academics.  The ones that keep me up at night are the ones who don't identify any worthwhile affiliations or strengths because I know that it's just a matter of time until some predatory group will find them and take them into their fold.  

On any given day, at least half of an interventionist's job is working in the affective domain, not the cognitive.  Like Aibileen reminding Mae Mobley in The Help, we tell them "You is kind"--You are a good kid, a great group mate, a team player...; "You is smart"--You have skills! No one but you noticed that! Look how far you've come. "You is important"--We miss you when you're absent.  You are a great leader.  No one can take your place.  

They may say they don't care, but they do.  They may not care about books or about school, but they care about their relationships, even the ones with teachers.  They will get frustrated. They will fight you.  It's not personal.  When this happens, I start fresh the next day with a smile and a fist bump.  

4.  They are exhausted.  Imagine spending eight hours in a job whose tasks required you to have the knowledge and skill level of a bachelor's degree, but you only have a high school diploma.  You struggle for eight-hours a day, 5 days a week, but because you were found "below expectations" on your yearly review,  your employer requires you to give up 45 minutes of your lunch hour to be re-trained. Oh, and those few precious weeks of summer vacation you're looking forward to?  Yup, you're gonna probably going to lose some of those, too.  

That's pretty much what happens to these kids.  They fall behind in regular classes, so we give them more classes or we keep them after school or in the summer.  They are forced to spend most of their day doing something they hate and that they're convinced they're not good at doing.  The one class that they love, that keeps them motivated?  Well, we likely pull them out for more intervention.  

We have no idea what they have to do when they get home, what adult responsibilities they have to take on.  We don't always know when kids have so much autonomy that they are staying up, or out!, all night doing whatever they want.  And then, let's start school before dawn for the bulk of the year.  Is it any wonder why they've physically checked out?

5.  They don't hate intervention.  What they hate is what intervention costs them, namely their free time, their favorite elective class, and perhaps, their pride.  They hate the stigma.  They hate that they need it.  I'll never forget the time that I was doing pull-out interventions for a group of 7th-graders.  One kid had ignored his pass directing him to come to my classroom and went right on to P.E.  I marched right down to the gym and fetched him from the basketball court.  To his friend's inquiry of where he was going, he shouted, "She's pulling me for some f***ing reason!"   

Of course this kid was way out-of-line and I calmly escorted him to the A.P.'s office where he received an appropriate consequence. The other "of course" is that he didn't go to the pull-out either.  What a waste of all our time!   I'm not going to excuse what he did, but I  understand the sentiment.  Playing basketball in gym might have been the only positive experience he awaited in the long school day, and we were taking that away from him.  Not only that, but he left behind a gym full of boys who were getting to keep their basketball time.  

Imagine how well that intervention would have gone if he would have made it to class with the same dismal attitude.  I cannot remember what skill we were supposed to have been addressing, but I can tell you that HE would have learned none of it.  

So what?  Well, if you're bothering to read this in your own free time, I've probably not unleashed any ground-breaking revelations for you.  But I think it's time to change the conversations we're having about interventions and the students for whom they are designed.  What we're doing is not working, for the most part, but not for lack of effort.  

What have you learned about intervention students that you could have added to this list?