Exit Slip-July 8th Wednesday, Jul 8 2009 

To answer today’s prompt, I will make a list of the top five lessons that I will take with me from Summer Institute.

1.  Write, write, write, especially in a journal.  Why a journal?  A journal allows you to simply be a writer.  You can write down your deepest, darkest secrets or simply write a vivid description of something near and dear to your heart.  Writing should not always be focused on  grammar and mechanics, but rather the transmission of ideas, thoughts, and experiences.

2.  Share, share, share.  Once you write, share what you’ve written.  Although some may say that not all writing should be shared, I think that the more you share, the better you become at writing and the more confidence you gain as a person and a writer.   Besides, it’s fun to listen to the writings of others.

3.  Revise, revise, revise.  Revise until you can’t revise anymore.  Seek help from outside sources because everyone becomes impervious to their own writing after awhile.  The perspective of another can help strengthen your writing.

4.  Community is important.  We all belong to a community of some sort.   Sometimes it may be a  literal community, like South Point, Chesapeake, or Huntington.  Other times it may be a community of professionals or learners.  I feel like a community has formed here at MU’s Summer Institute, and I am proud to be a part of it.

5.  Never stop learning.  No matter how many degrees you have or how many years you’ve taught, you’ll never know everything.  Realizing that learning is a lifelong process will help you become a better person and professional.  Never stop learning.

These are just a few of the lessons I’ve learned while at Summer Institute.

Cover Letter Wednesday, Jul 8 2009 

Dear Reader,

I want to take a few moments to discuss a phenomenon that I have experienced over the summer of 2009:  Marshall University’s Summer Institute (SI).  During the three and a half weeks that I have been part of the SI community, I feel as though it has significantly impacted me as a writer, learner, colleague, and individual.  Primarily, SI has taught me that everyone needs opportunities to grow no matter where they are in their life:  as individuals, we must realize that learning is a lifelong process.  To me, as a writer, the continuous journaling every morning for the length of SI has been like exercising the body—only we exercised our minds and hands!  Due to the incessant practice of writing every day, I have better learned how to let my thoughts flow rather than “editorialize” or worry about as Natalie Goldberg, author of Wild Mind, calls it.  SI first of all taught me that I am not perfect, and I still need to grow and mature as a writer.

Another lesson learned from SI is the value in sharing your work.  Actually, this value is twofold:  I, as the reader, become less self-conscious of my writing and more eager to share, and I also learn about my colleagues’ personal and professional lives through their own readings.  As a result of our Sacred Writing times, a community forms, a community that allows us to feel comfortable around one another and become more willing to reveal more and more about ourselves, our hardships, our pain, our happiness, our joys.  I feel that this is one of the most powerful tools of Summer Institute.

Moreover, I think that SI has helped me become more open to the opinions of others.  It is not always easy to have your hard work critiqued, but considering the comments of others is really the only way that we can grow and improve ourselves.  My writing group members, Laura Bentley, and even the “open mic” forum on the National Writing Project’s website have all contributed to my personal growth as a writer because they all considered the strengths and weaknesses of my writing; consequently, in the spirit of community, they wanted to see me grow.  Even the comments provided by my colleagues during my demonstration helped me to see that we can never be perfect, but we can always improve ourselves.  I now understand that all the critical feedback from SI has been designed for my individual growth as a writer, learner, colleague, and even an individual participant in this great community called humanity.

In addition to my personal life, Summer Institute has impacted my future teaching methods as well.  Before coming to SI, I had just completed my second year of teaching.  Over the past year I was given the job of teaching eighth grade English, and along with this job came an actual classroom and real content standards (the year before I was the drama teacher and didn’t have a classroom).  I thoroughly enjoyed this year, designing engaging activities, differentiating instruction, addressing multiple learning styles, and discussing literature.  Yet I still realized that I had by no means reached the limit of what I could achieve in the classroom.  And Summer Instituted helped me to understand this more fully.

One of my first discoveries came when I realized I didn’t use enough writing in my writing classroom!  Although my students did, of course, write— for example, a Halloween narrative, business letters, a research paper, and a literary analysis paper—I till didn’t use it enough.  I addressed the content standards, but didn’t really delve beyond them.  After experiencing Sacred Writing, I now want to incorporate more personal journaling in my classroom where students and I sit physically close to one another (in a circle?) and share our writing.  During this time, I want to emphasize the need to write, not check for grammar errors or wonder how your writing will sound to others.  I feel as though I have learned through Summer Institute that journaling is time to capture a memory or write down your thoughts, not produce the American masterpiece.  Students can do this later once we begin revising.

In addition to Sacred Writing and the revision process, I have also gained a wealth of knowledge from my own and my colleagues’ demonstrations.  Namely, I am now going to use more reflective writing in my classroom—perhaps on major projects—and an I-Search paper instead of research paper.  However, I may also use the multigenre project as outlined by William Strong in Write for Insight instead of the I-Search paper.  Regardless, I believe that my research standards will be managed and taught very differently in my classroom in the future, a change that both I and my students will certainly appreciate.

Now, this brings me to the contents that you will find in the rest of my e-portfolio.  First of all, I want to mention that all of the pieces in this portfolio were written and revised exclusively within the confines of SI.  Although I tried to use past pieces of writing, I decided that I really wanted to start fresh and with a clean slate.  Secondly, I included each of these pieces because I value them and want others to hear my stories, whether they are personal professional, technical, humorous, etc.  Even though I love all of the pieces within this portfolio, I am especially proud of my personal and professional pieces because they went through more revisions (although the deep revision piece did as well—I’ll talk about that momentarily) than the rest.

I love “Place of Escape,” one of my personal pieces, because Laura Bentley really pushed me to use sensory details, and this particular piece was the perfect vehicle for sensory details.  As she read the piece over and over, she made suggestions and comments, always wanting more sights and sounds.  I am appreciative that Laura pushed me to what I consider new heights:  description is an important part of writing and allows the reader to really live vicariously through your writing.  I think the end result is almost poetic, thanks to our writer-in-residence, Laura Bentley.

As previously mentioned, I enjoyed writing the professional piece, “A New Leaf,” a reflective writing based upon my experiences with a student named Steven during my second year of teaching.  In “A New Leaf,” I tell the story of how Steven taught me an important aspect of teaching:  let students be themselves.  This piece reveals an important part of me, particularly that I am willing to learn and even change (hence the title “A New Leaf”) as a result of what my students teach me.  I feel empowered by the fact that I can drop my garb of being the All-Knowing Being within the classroom, kick back, and let my students teach me a thing or two about life, the classroom, and writing.

The deep revision piece entitled “Letter to Susan Walker Morse” was written after my visit to the Huntington Museum of Art.  This revised writing was part of an earlier piece that can also be found within my personal writing, “Susan Walker Morse.”  I really wanted to use the original paragraph because I thought it was an insightful glimpse into young Susan’s life; after all, I knew nothing of Susan, but I was able to muse about the possibilities of her life by merely viewing a picture of her as a young child.  For my deep revision, I took the original paragraph written at the Huntington Museum and turned it into a letter to Susan Walker Morse.  The end result, I think, was effective because I was able to address my concerns and insights directly to Susan Walker Morse.  In addition to using the deep revision process at SI, I will try to incorporate this into my own classroom as well.  I think my eighth graders would love to be able to think about different genres and how they may or may not affect the content of their original piece.

My demonstration document, “Building Bridges Between Writing and Science,” is based upon the demonstration that I presented with Beth Wireman, a teacher in my school building.  It shows research on the subject of project-based learning, in addition to what I learned and how I can implement projects into the writing and science classroom.  Another piece that was written during Summer Institute was my ethnography, which is essentially a retelling of that day’s events.  In my own ethnography, I attempted to write a play that included all of the leaders, facilitators, and fellows as actresses and actors.  I believe that my ethnography shows that I can write creatively and imaginatively, something we all want our students to display as well.

Finally, I have included my informal writings in my e-portfolio.  These are mostly a compilation of Sacred Writings and exit slips from SI.  My exit slips discuss using technology in the classroom; they range from frustrations over not being able to use technology efficiently to dreams of one day using blogs and wikis with my classes.  On the other hand, the Sacred Writings reveal different aspects of my life, from my love to books to summer memories.  Overall, these Sacred Writings reveal my newfound love of journaling and sharing with my group of SI fellows, and the need to incorporate journaling more often into my personal and professional life.

Overall, SI has been a wonderful process of maturity for myself as an individual, a writer, a student, a colleague, a professional, and a teacher.  The effect on my life will continue to resonate throughout the years.

Sincerely,

Bethany Hunt

Exit Slip-July 7th Tuesday, Jul 7 2009 

I have thoroughly enjoyed using the blog during Summer Institute.  It feeds my obsessive compulsive disorder because I can create neat little posts; I even have the option to edit them whenever I notice a small error (I just got finished changing the dates on a few of the posts so that they would all look the same; i.e., 7th instead of 7 or 29th instead of 29).  As a new member of the Facebook community, I have encouraged my “friends” to visit my blog website and a few of them have read my posts and viewed my movie.  I went to my blog on Saturday when my mom was over for the 4th of July and I proudly showed her my shoe fetish video at Vimeo.com.  I also enjoy looking at other people’s posts, learning about what they’ve experienced, seeing their writing styles, and sometimes even looking at the web design they’ve chosen for their blog!  Consequently, I would love to use blogs within my writing classroom.  I think that students would enjoy sharing their personal journals and even more formal work on the Internet; after all, I—as an adult—loved using the blog, so why wouldn’t they?  I am just worried about the unpredictable nature of technology in the classroom, and the headache, worry, and class time that would suffer as a result.

I’m told that the e-portfolio will be more of a permanent fixture and cannot be changed like the blog.  I am saddened by this because I want to have the leisure of being able to change something that I’ve posted if I find a mistake—no matter how small.  Overall, I think the e-portfolio has been worthwhile and I am, once again, proud of all the pieces I have compiled in it.  It’s been awhile since I’ve written creatively, journaled, or really reflected on my teaching.  Therefore, I have enjoyed creating this e-portfolio as a professional and personal piece.  I don’t really know how I’ll use this professionally other than showing it to my colleagues.  I suppose if I ever left the school district, I could use my e-portfolio for an interview.  However, I would love to use an e-portfolio in my classroom.  I think it would be an easy way to compile the students’ work because it would be accessible to parents (if they have Internet acceses) and I wouldn’t have to worry whether I’ve lost a student’s folder or a piece from the folder.  Again, though, the upkeep of a blog and the stress that would accompany it are big negatives for me.  I’m afraid of something happening with the technology that I couldn’t fix on my own or even having enough computers for my students to work on.  I guess these are problems I’ll just have to work through.

Technology Piece 3 Saturday, Jul 4 2009 

Digital Storytelling

I think that digital storytelling is a great project that can be used in virtually any classroom.  A digital story could cover content in science, language arts, math, social studies, health, etc.  The problems are, of course, the issues that arise with any technology project.  How do I get the equipment and supplies?  How do I deal with troubleshooting issues?  I have dappled in digital storytelling over the past year because my school adopted the digital arts program through Pearson Education.  Students really enjoyed it and loved being able to take the traditional report and make it into a video instead.  My favorite part was always the viewing:  we would prepare popcorn and watch the videos on a large screen television.

On the other hand, I would love to be able to explore this genre more myself.  I don’t have a particular subject that I would like to explore, but I really liked Jennifer Sias’ movie on her grandmother.  I think I would like to tell the story of a family member and their life in Appalachia through a digital story.

Deep Revision-Part 2 Friday, Jul 3 2009 

Letter to Susan Walker Morse

after the painting, “Portrait of Susan Walker Morse,” ca 1820

Part 2

July 3, 2009

Dear Susan Walker Morse,

You do not know me, and probably never will.  In reality, I do not know you that well either.  I know you are now in heaven, and will never receive this letter, but I feel like I should write you because I am intrigued by a picture of you as a baby.  I also think I might have discovered a dark, hidden secret about your life that was probably not all that different from any other nineteenth-century woman.  Before I reveal my findings, though, I want to briefly tell you about myself.

My name is Bethany Hunt and I am a student at Marshall University in Huntington, West Virginia.  One day, while visiting the Huntington Museum of Art, I was drawn to a painting of you as a small child.  I must admit that my initial reaction was one of horror because you did not resemble any other twenty-first century infant that I have ever seen.  Of course, that is obviously because you are not a twenty-first century child, but rather a product of the 1800’s.  I went over to the picture and attempted to read about you, but did not because I had a task at hand:  I needed to write about you in my journal so that I could go back and share my writing with others.  So, you see, I really don’t know much about your life, although I still think your painting reveals something about you.

I will be blunt:  did you grow up too soon?  You may not understand what I mean, so let me explain.  In my twenty-first century world, normal children spend well over four years of their life as a child.  Parents do not expect that their young children will acquire impeccable manners, the ability to listen to other people’s opinions rather than their own, or dress in adult-like clothes.  Americans in 2009 do not assume that their infants or toddlers will have the manners of a mature adult.  Yet your portrait in the Huntington Museum of Art reveals that you may not have had the luxuries that modern children enjoy.

For instance, I noticed that you were wearing what we call “blush” (but you almost certainly knew it as “rouge”) on your plump cheeks.  Your lips are also outlined with red lipstick.  At the age of one year, a child is not really old enough to wear makeup.  After all, I didn’t wear makeup until I was eleven or twelve years old.  Why, then, are you wearing makeup at such a very young age?

Secondly, I see from your picture that you were wearing a burgundy, brick-red gown with slightly draped sleeves when the artist drew your portrait.  There are small puffs at the shoulders and a green ribbon loosely tied at your breast.  Once again, I am struck by the maturity that your dress adds to your small frame.

All of these observations have led me to the conclusion that you probably grew up too soon.  I surmise that you didn’t get to enjoy being a child, and that you were introduced to the hardships of life at a shockingly small age.  Several questions arise, and I yearn to know the answers.  What sort of childhood did you lead?  Was it lonely?  What was expected of you?  Did you know the death of a loved one at an early age?  Where you exposed to disease too soon?  What was your life like as an adult?  Did you have children of your own?

I know you will never be able to reply to this letter, but it is still therapeutic to ask you these questions anyway.  I sincerely hope that your childhood was a happy one and that you did not, as I put it, “grow up too soon.”

Sincerely,

Bethany Hunt

Professional Piece Friday, Jul 3 2009 

A New Leaf

Fall 2008

After writing the journal topic on the whiteboard one day with a brightly colored red marker that smelled faintly of sweet cherries, I gingerly sat down at my seat and set my classroom timer for ten minutes.  Since some of my students cannot read cursive, and since I demand that they learn and become accustomed to cursive, I was obliged to read the journal prompt to the students out loud.

“Describe a time when you ‘turned a new leaf’ or changed like the character in our short story,” I announced.  The class set to work, pens and pencils scratching away at notebook paper.  Some students sat and pondered the question, wondering how they would ever fill half a page on a topic that didn’t require a right or wrong answer.  While some teachers may relish in what is sometimes considered “down time” in a classroom—also translated as “time when the teacher can take a breather”—I knew that the magical spell would be broken sometime during the course of the next ten minutes.

Sure enough, my prediction came true.  A few minutes into the journal writing, Steven, a student with a mop of curly chestnut hair and a roguish grin on his face, spoke up.  “Mrs. Hunt?”

“What?” I replied, wishing that he would just come to my desk instead of interrupting the whole class.

“I have this relic from World War II at my house and I found this site online about skinheads.”

“What?” I answered, wondering what synapse in his brain had fired off that thought.  And to change the subject:  “Are you finished with your journal?”

“Yes.”

As usual, I requested that he show me his work.  He had written a few lines that promptly answered the question, but did not really have the description or explanation that I wanted.  “Steven, you know this is not enough,” I told him, hurt that he didn’t consider my journal topic worth more than two sentences.

Steven listened half-heartedly, only really interested in telling me more stories.  “Guess what I did last night?” Steven loudly asked.  Of course, I was not given a chance to respond, and he continued to tell me about World of Warcraft (WOW)—his favorite online game—and someone that he met online while playing WOW.  Usually, Steven talked so fast that I really couldn’t understand everything he was saying, and sometimes I didn’t have the background knowledge in online gaming or technology to follow his thoughts.

I looked around uneasily and realized that other students were also listening to Steven’s stories.  Great, I thought to myself, now Steven’s distracted other students from their work as well.  Realizing that my beloved down time was dwindling, I quietly told Steven that he needed to go back to his seat and read his AR book for the last few minutes of journaling.  Of course, I couldn’t let Steven get by with interrupting the class, so I also disciplined him by marking his planner yellow—a warning.  As usual, Steven was offended, and he huffed and puffed all the way back to his seat, suddenly crushed and in a foul mood.

Eventually, the class was ready to move on.  Once again, as I had so many times before, I attired myself in my actress’ garb and pretended that I was happy and eager to introduce an engaging activity to the class.  Inside, though, I wasn’t.  I was confused by Steven and his ability to unnerve me.  Sighing, I wondered again why Steven was so intent on disrupting my class with his comments.

But it would take me half of the school year to understand this.

Summer 2009

I am reminded of Steven again during a writing session at Marshall University’s Writing Project one day.  The topic of our journal, What have your students taught you? brings back memories of Steven and my second block class all over again.  I wonder what have my students taught me?  What has Steven taught me?  Other teachers, I notice, are writing with short, even strokes; their foreheads are lined with crease marks, and I imagine that this topic has probably emboldened many teachers to really speak their minds.  Except for me.  I sit in my swivel chair dumbly asking myself over and over what I had learned from Steven, possibly the most difficult student of my second year of teaching.

I am struck by a thought, and my pen eventually begins to form my thoughts on paper.  I write about how Steven has taught me one of the most important lessons that I think a teacher can learn:  don’t take away the spark, creativity, and personality of a student.

Steven and I did not always see eye-to-eye.  He would speak up in class about what I called the most random thoughts on the planet, and I had no idea why.  But, eventually, Steven and I came to a mutual, unspoken agreement, and suddenly Steven didn’t have quite as many marks in his planner as he did at the beginning of the year.  I must confess, I didn’t really understand all at once what had changed.  Perhaps I was just learning to cope with Steven, to tune out his ramblings.  Or maybe Steven was more obedient by the end of the year.  Yet, this is really not what happened at all.  Looking back, Steven’s behavior did not change over the course of the year because he continued to tell me and the class stories about World of Warcraft, his time at Fairland, who he met online, World War II stories, and other tidbits from his confined teenage world.

So, who changed?

While writing my journal for Summer Institute, I suddenly realize that it was me.  I am the one who changed, not Steven.  At the beginning of the year, I didn’t understand why Steven was so eager to tell me about his personal life and his hobbies.  No matter how much I tried to quell this behavior, it never worked.  I realize now that this is because Steven felt secure and at ease in my class.  I didn’t lecture for long periods of time or hand out worksheets for students to complete on their own.  Little did I know that Steven realized this, and he understood that to mean that I would be willing to listen to his comments as well.  After all, he reasoned, if a teacher plans such fun activities and is willing to have discussions about Hitler, gangs, and other interesting topics, then surely she’ll want to listen to me.  He also believed that I, unlike so many of his other teachers, would allow him to simply be himself in class instead of trying to control the students, making unresponsive robots out of them.

In reality, I do not think I had an epiphany or any sudden change of heart about Steven.  There was really no defining moment during my second year of teaching that made me think to myself Aha! I now understand Steven’s behavior.  Rather, it was a gradual understanding.  As I got to know my second block class and myself as a teacher, I understood that I had to give up some of the control and let my students be themselves.

Now, as I sit in the Sacred Writing circle with other teachers, a little more mature than I was at the beginning of last school year, I want to share this important lesson that I think all teachers should heed:  allow students to be themselves.  Don’t suppress their creativity or the individual that they are and will one day come to be.

So, you see, Steven didn’t change.  Instead, it was I, the teacher, who turned over a new leaf.

Exit Slip-July 2nd Thursday, Jul 2 2009 

I think that digital storytelling is a great project that can be used in virtually any classroom.  A digital story could cover content in science, language arts, math, social studies, health, etc.  The problems are, of course, the issues that arise with any technology project.  How do I get the equipment and supplies?  How do I deal with troubleshooting issues?  I have done this before at my school and was part of the digital arts program (although I’m not a professional at it).  Students really enjoyed it and loved being able to take the traditional report and make it into a video instead.  My favorite part was always the viewing:  we would prepare popcorn and watch the videos on a large screen television.

On the other hand, I would love to be able to explore this genre more myself.  I don’t have a particular subject that I would like to explore, but I really liked Jennifer Sias’ movie on her grandmother.  I think I would like to tell the story of a family member or members and their life in Appalachia.

Digital Story-Shoes, Shoes, Shoes! Thursday, Jul 2 2009 

This is a digital story created in Marshall University’s Writing Project.  I chose to make a video about shoes because I love them and have so many of them.  After all, a girl can never have too many shoes.  The following link allows you to view my video at Vimeo.com.  I hope you enjoy!

http://www.vimeo.com/5427542

Deep Revision-Part 1 Thursday, Jul 2 2009 

Susan Walker Morse

after the painting, “Portrait of Susan Walker Morse,” ca 1820

Part 1

Susan Walker Morse. Charlestown, Massachusetts. One year old. Little lady. Brick red gown, slightly draped sleeves. A green bow is loosely tied at your breast. Puffed sleeves on your shoulders. Does the elastic hurt your baby arms? If I were to remove those sleeves, would I notice the trace of an indentation on your soft, plump arms? Your lips are slightly parted. Ruby red. Lipstick. Who has painted your infant’s lips? Are your cheeks also rouged? Has another hand applied these adult touches to your young frame? You are a child. Yet you appear as an adult. Will you grow up too soon? How early will you know the struggles and harships of life? A moment in time. Your portrait is a snapshot of a childhood that will end all too soon. A plump hand gently caresses your breast. You point an index finger at yourself as if to say, “Me, you wish to capture my life?” This brief moment. Gilded in a gold frame, forever immortalized.

Technology Piece 2 Wednesday, Jul 1 2009 

Technology in the Classroom

I am not technologically-savvy, so my experiences with technology in the classroom are rather limited.  Every morning we begin homeroom with a student-led broadcast called “Channel PAW;” my class watches this on an old television sitting on one of my round tables.  Every now and then we watch a movie; however, I do not have a DVD or VCR attached to my ancient television, so I have to rely on my handy dandy resource teacher to set up the projector and her laptop.  (I don’t know what I’d do if it were not for her!)  I have recently made use of the overhead projector, and I have found it to be a tremendous help because it really keeps kids focused.  Moreover, I sometimes allow students to research on the computer.  The only problem with this is that there is a grand total of four computers in my classroom, and two of them are fickle and work only when they want to.  I also have the honor of housing one of the printers for the top floor.  As a result, many teachers and students print to my room.  When the printer is working, this can be annoying since people are constantly in and out of my room.  On the days that the printer does not work (which are more numerous than the days it works!) I have to resort to the math teacher’s room across the hallway to print out my own lessons and handouts.

Now, professionally, I use technology all the time.  For some reason, I reject all of the handouts, tests, activities, etc. that accompany my textbook and opt instead to write my own tests and activities.  I suppose I do this because it allows me more control over my curriculum and because I know my students better than the Prentice Hall textbook does.  Thus I use my computer, printer, and USB stick on a daily basis.

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