Imagine that you’re a fifth grade student. Your teacher asks you to read to her, timer in hand, every week…though she doesn’t do that with everyone. You like your teacher and your friends in your class, but you’re not a fan of being pulled to the back table for “extra help”. Your hands get a little clammy when the teacher excitedly tells the students that everyone is going to “popcorn read!” You feign excitement, but quietly pray that your friends know you well enough to not call on you…or at least not for the longer paragraphs. Social studies is the worst! Have you seen the words on those pages? Why did those old people have to talk and write so fancy?
In the past, I had been fearful to overwhelm my struggling fifth grade readers with the language of difficult, historical documents, particularly the preamble to the Constitution. I knew that fifth grade student who was reluctant to read, and I didn’t want to crush her. Instead, I spoon-fed her, and others like her, the information from a “trust me, you don’t have to read it directly, I’ll just tell you” perspective. I felt guilty for taking that stance, but justified the instructional decision I was making because the content was more approachable. The accomplished readers? I gave them full access to the text, allowing them to make their own meaning from the complex reading. One group of students received my “effective teaching” lesson plan, while the other set received my “I love you and don’t want to see you struggle” lesson plan.
My love for my struggling readers set them up for failure, year after year. I had to change something about my approach. As I became more aware of and comfortable with the Common Core ELA standards, I began utilizing the practices within my social studies instruction. I chose one rich, rigorous text for all of my classes, regardless of their definitive reading levels. With insight from an instructional coach, I began pulling out the academic vocabulary that my students would face in historical texts. We analyzed the words and discovered the meanings together, rather than looking up in a dictionary or waiting to be told the definition. I noticed that when my students stopped relying solely on dictionaries, they became immersed in the power of language and how words are used in their context. I pulled away from leading the instruction and immersed myself into the role of facilitating instruction. The idea that some students could “get it”, while others would become frustrated quickly became an antiquated notion. I knew the process was working when one of my “low” readers took a “high” reader to task on some text-dependent questions tied to a slave narrative and schooled us all in placing our own interpretations on someone else’s historical truth. This student exchange is why I teach. This exchange did not happen in my pre-CCSS classroom.
After a year of putting this instructional shift into practice, I became more comfortable with my role as a facilitator of learning. One year, my class consisted of 29 students from all walks of life. You could call some of those students spunky, some were shy and most were well below the grade level reading expectations. Sound familiar?
Regardless of this group’s “lexile” levels, I had continued to use the ELA techniques of the previous year and it had become second nature for my students to work with the academic vocabulary and access the original, historical text. The dreaded preamble to Constitution was upon us, but I did not feel the least bit nervous. I knew these kiddos had the tools to overcome the text and truly find the value of its meaning.
My assistant principal happened to stop in while we were discussing the purposes of government. Knowing this group’s reading ability, I could see that she was a bit skeptical that my kids could really access the Constitution text, much less understand it. So, she asked if there were any volunteer readers. Very loud hands shot up across the room, but I could see my AP focus in on a little girl, sitting in the front corner, quietly raising her hand. The AP called on her and Thalya quietly stood up and confidently read the preamble, without stumbling over a single word. The AP looked a little surprised, but followed up with “Yes, but what does it mean?” Hands shot up from around the room, but Thalya was not finished. She went through, line by line, purpose by purpose, giving a beautiful synopsis of what our government should provide to its citizens. The AP sat for a moment and then gushed over this little girl. I was unaware, but just two years prior, the only English that Thalya spoke was the word “hello” after much prompting and many weeks of tears. That fifth grade girl had overcome more than I could have ever imagined.
The beauty of Thalya’s success was that it was not her defining moment. She knew she could read it, she knew that she could understand it. It was just the simple fact that now others outside of our classroom knew that she could read and understand it, as well. As beautiful as Thalya’s story is, my takeaway is that many hands shot up all around the room of students wanting to show our AP that they, too, could demonstrate understanding from this difficult text. Some students went as far as to stalk the AP in the hallway over the next couple of weeks, with the text tucked neatly in their pocket.
The Common Core ELA standards require that ALL students engage in high level texts. They do not offer up excuses or point fingers at scapegoats. The standards are clear and simple. I once heard a presenter say that we often “love our children to failure” and I was so guilty of that prior to fully implementing the CC ELA standards in my social studies classroom. No one wants to see a child falter or fail. It’s in our blood as caretakers to make childhood a time of wonder and discovery, rather than frustration and disappointment. What the CC ELA standards made me aware of and what my students remind me daily, is that raising the bar for students doesn’t equal frustration and disappointment. Rather, the standards allow students to see the wonder of rich language and discover the meaning of deep topics. It gave that struggling fifth grade reader, and many others like her, the confidence and ability to overcome complex text and expand the world around her.
Tiffany Gruen is a fourth and fifth grade social studies teacher at John G. Carlisle Elementary in Covington, KY. She is a Hope Street Group Kentucky Teacher Fellow and a Core Advocate with Student Achievement Partners. Follow her @GruenTiff.