They come at lunch. They grab the graphic novels. The chrome books. They write. Read. Gossip. Help.
She worked on an acrostic poem. Her friends coached into word selection.
I listen in.
They shelve books. File papers. Charge iPads.
He tells me his worries. How she said something mean. He said something mean back. He feels sorry he said it. We talk. He says he wants to write her. To tell her he’s sorry.
The bell rings. Our official class begins.
I meet with book clubs. They plan their reading for Spring break. Around us, students work independently on their opinion writing.
They grab the old charts to check steps. Pick up mentor texts. Look at their data scattered on the walls. One student asks if she can survey the classroom. Other students follow suit.
“Do you think there should be zoos?”
“Do you think there should be school uniforms?”
“Do you think there should be tackle football in youth sports?”
“Do you think kids should be able to vote?”
“Do you think PE should be mandatory?”
I teach them the word abstain.
I work with groups on reading.
Yesterday, my students showed me what they could do without too much of me.
All was not perfect. Some took charge. Some languished. All engaged in literacy where they are right now. They were readers and writers. They showed what they could do. Right now.
I celebrate a joyful day of literacy. Untethered, unleashed.
Thank you, Two Writing Teachers for the March Slice of Life Challenge. It is an honor to be a participant. Read more slices here.
And thank you, Ruth Ayers, for the Celebrate this Week link up. You provide the opportunity to continue to find the joy every day. Read more celebrations here.