~ Define "bad" ~

Sitting at the computer today while Ms. L was having the kids pack up their stuff, I was startled by A. "T said a bad word," he blurted before running back to his desk. Without any other context, and fifteen minutes before Thanksgiving break, I decided to keep an eye out, but not pursue.

My mind was changed by B, who almost never says a word, when he came back in the room from getting his things from his locker and told me, "T said a bad word." I asked a few more questions this time, and found out it was the A word, said to another student. I asked the other student, and he told me the same thing.

I pulled T aside to investigate. He first tried to deny he said anything bad. When I pointed out the unlikeliness that three other people in class were lying to me about it, he tried a new one. "Well, sometimes at my house I hear voices when no one's there." Stifling laughter, I responded, "Really? So you think three different people in our class are hearing voices in their heads, and they all three think the voice is coming from you?" "I guess so," he says.

Since I was getting nowhere fast, I told T I was pretty sure he wasn't telling me the truth, and asked him to have a seat and think hard about what he might have said in the hallway. The tears came then, "Well, I guess maybe I said the d word to A." This was not what I'd heard, but at least he was admitting to something. I had him start on a letter to his mother, telling her what he'd done in school that day.

He worked away for a while, then announced he was done. "Ok, read it to me," I said. Here's how it went:

Dear Mom,
Today in school I called A a dummie.
From, T

"Oh, honey," I said, "you think dummie is the bad word you said? That's not a nice word, but that's not the bad word they told me you said. Three people, T, three people told me you said the A word." He didn't even deny it at that point. Just told me he wasn't sure how to spell that word. "Did you say it?" I asked. "Well, yeah, but I can't spell it."

What followed was a conversation in which he first pretended not to know any word that meant "not telling the truth," wondered why he had to add the fact that he lied to Mrs. N to his letter, then argued about having to have his mom sign the letter and return it to school.

Just in case I thought the half day before Thanksgiving was going to be an easy day. Guess I'll enjoy my break that much more now!

Pie, pie, and more pie

One of the things that didn't change when I came to third grade was the approach to writing. I've used Writer's Workshop and individual conferences with students for years, and while the lessons are a little different for younger writers, the basic structure is the same, and leads to moments with kids where they really get writing, and get excited about it.

D. came to tell me she was done with her story. "I read it, it makes sense." Her story went like this:

I love pie. I cud eat

pie all day

if I kud.

Reglar (regular)

charey

pie.

I love pie.

D. has a hard time writing. She doesn't read very well, which makes writing even harder. I started asking her questions. Why do you like pie so much? What's your favorite kind of pie? Why is that your favorite?

She started talking about making pie with her Grandma, and how her Grandma sometimes puts frosting on the bottom of a cherry pie, which makes it extra good. Just talking to me about it made her smile.

I knew we'd found it. "There's your story," I said, "Your first story basically says you like pie. I don't know anyone who doesn't like pie, but I've never heard of putting frosting in it."

D. went back and completely rewrote her story to tell about making pie with her Grandma and how that makes her feel. She ended up with something she was really proud of.

This is why I love Writer's Workshop, for kids like D. who absolutely hate writing when they come to me, and realize by the end that they do have a story to tell.