Early this year, after giving the first major writing assignment, I noticed that my 8th grade
students were having trouble expressing their thoughts in writing.  In discussions, they showed unusual
thoughtfulness and an ability to respond critically to one another’s ideas.  When it came to writing, they were not
afraid to put pen to paper and get started, as some of my former students have
been.  Most were surprisingly
comfortable banging out a paragraph (or three) on a topic.  At first I was pleased.  They appeared to have greater fluency in writing than some of my former classes of students. 

Then I read the work. 
My students’ voices were completely different in writing than they were
in class discussions.  The
thoughtfulness I’d come to expect and enjoy from their spoken words seemed to
fade behind muddled sentences that did not flow, contradicted one another, and
ultimately communicated very little substance.  I felt like a doctor who’d just opened up a healthy-looking
patient for a routine surgery and found something completely unexpected.  What was going on?

After careful assessment of my students’ writing and some
interesting conversations with them about it, I think I know what's been ailing them.  They had not thought of writing as something that starts in the mind and is an
extension of their thoughts and spoken voices, a tool to communicate ideas to
others.  Instead, writing for most of my students had felt more like some alien language that comes out of a pen when the teacher asks
for it!

I needed to help the students connect what they think and
say with the act of writing.  I applied a method I call Writing Outloud, in which students in speaking in front of the class on a topic, off the cuff, and then write about what they say, or respond in writing to what another
student says.  They turn these
ideas into paragraphs, and elaborate on them, both through speaking and in subsequent paragraphs.  Then we identify the big idea that each
student has focused on and thinks is significant; we shape
essays around these big ideas.

I now have complete drafts in front of me, and I am happy,
because they are substantive. 
Students are writing from real thoughts, experiences, and beliefs about
important, relevant topics. 

But there is still much work to be done, and I’m not
comfortable simply commenting on the drafts, correcting errors, and asking
students to rewrite, (though they expect this).  I need to teach them to revise.  To do this authentically, students and I are going to need
to think a little more carefully about audience and purpose.  I want them to stop thinking of me as the audience.  Who would they really like to reach in this piece, and how
might they adjust their writing to do it better? 

The problem with authentic revision is that it’s going to take us away from formulaic writing.  What’s wrong with that, you might
ask?  Nothing, except that everything I’ve learned over the years about the standardized test my students
will take in mid-January tells me they need to be able to follow a strict, dry, five
paragraph essay formula to do well on it. 

Who is the audience for the essays my students must write on
the statewide ELA test?  What is
the message they need to communicate to that audience?  The message is a superficial one that
has nothing to do with the content of what they are writing, and everything to
do with proving they can answer a question in a prescribed format.

This sounds startlingly similar to the initial problem I had
with my students’ writing.  Their words were superficial and lacked voice and substance.  They were constantly looking for a right answer from the
teacher, and if one wasn’t presented, they were trained to make it up and
package it neatly in paragraphs. It was very hard for them to write clearly and
compellingly, because they were not actually writing to communicate. 

I’m stuck at that familiar crossroads where I'm sure many other teachers in this country find themselves throughout the year.  Teach for the child or teach for the test?  If I dismiss my own professional
judgment of what my students need and simply teach the test’s formulas, are they really guaranteed to perform better? 
What exactly do they gain from the difference?

It’s November 11, and I’m going to invest some time in
developing my students as real writers, because I just can’t see the logic in
anything else. Some people have said good teaching is good teaching, and the
scores will follow.  I’m not so
sure, but I’m willing to take the risk. 
Will let you know how it works out.  

[image found at http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://cassandrapages.typepad.com/the_cassandra_pages/images/2007/07/10/crossroads.jpg&imgrefurl=http://cassandrapages.typepad.com/the_cassandra_pages/2007/07/crossroads.html&h=375&w=500&sz=45&hl=en&start=55&usg=__rMOJjEx6C-njoxyM0awFVLEr5D8=&tbnid=6K7aU9sFSseiPM:&tbnh=98&tbnw=130&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dcrossroads%26start%3D40%26gbv%3D2%26ndsp%3D20%26hl%3Den%26sa%3DN]]