[Today in Writing Workshop] Serendipity

Before I jumped into Writing Workshopland with my students last year, one of the biggest turn-offs was the inability to plan for some things.  To an extent, you have to wait to see what your students are really doing before you can plan some mini-lessons or have some conferences.

But as I’ve experienced life in workshop, one of the things I have come to value most are the happy accidents that happen — the things I can’t and don’t plan for.

For example,  I have not done any mini-lessons (or planned any) on planning and brainstorming. But today one of my students was stuck — staring at his nearly-blank page. I went over to conference with him. We had talked before, so I knew that he had lots of ideas. They just weren’t getting onto the page, he told me.  I realized that he might just be too caught up in the organization of it all. “Try listing all of your ideas,” I suggested, “and then we’ll go back and figure out which paragraphs they belong in.”

And it actually worked. The mini-lesson that never happened came up accidentally in a conference, and it was probably the most effective teaching I did this morning.

As I discussed last week, I also haven’t planned any strategic peer editing.  But today one of my students (casually and without prompting) shared his draft with a tablemate. After reading it, the student called me over and asked if he could begin a new topic. I was surprised as he has been fuirously writing (pages and pages and pages) for four days now.  He said that he really liked his topic; he wants to save it and continue to work on it in the future.  But his buddy’s paper “inspired” him (he used that word!) to write about something different.  After I gave my approval (and congratulations for finding a two topics about which he is passionate), he tapped his friend on the shoulder and said, “You don’t know this, but you just accidentally inspired me.” I wanted to cry. Neither of these students are my most engaged writers. I didn’t plan for them to share, but they did … and when they did, something magical happened that I was not expecting.

I want to add another victory to my list from yesterday:

Victory #4:  The best bits of writing workshop are often the parts I don’t expect, don’t plan for , and don’t control.

[Today in Writing Workshop] My Turn to Reflect (Or What to Make of the Papers)

Yesterday I sat down to begin formally assessing my students’ first paper — their reviews. They wrote. We conferenced (and conferenced and conferenced). They had myriad mini-lessons.  In true collaborative spirit, we made a rubric together based on what they felt was important.  They reflected.

And now, it seems, it’s my turn to reflect.

Their data last week excited me! I was thrilled to see, intheirwords, the this thing really works — that it makes them write more, that it makes them think more, that, in the words of one very hesitant writer, it gives them a “safety net” that gives them confidence.  And still, as I sit down and look at their finished product, I can’t help but feel a degree of frustration.

These papers that we have poured weeks into aren’t perfect. The mini-lessons that I took so much time to carefully craft have clearly not been absorbed by all students. There are comma errors that we specifically addressed together. There are silly, careless mistakes like “their”/”they’re”/”there”.

After all of this, I want perfection.

But, when I sent my frustration to Taylor in an email this morning, she suggested that at this point, maybe the process is the victory. Maybe looking at the product for victory isn’t the right focus at present.   So, here are some of the things I can feel victorious about after our first round of workshop:

 

 From talking to students and reading their reflections, it seems that this is true on the macro and micro levels. They have never been able to sit still for 40 minutes and devote themselves to writing and thinking about their writing. On the macro level,  students report that they have never before spent this many days and weeks working on a single piece, drafting and perfecting.

These are good things. It’s great that they are learning to focus on writing for longer and longer periods of time. It’s great that they are drafting, conferencing, and polishing a single piece until they can see concrete improvement.

Victory #2: Students are learning to ask good questions about their writing.

Through conferences and targeted mini-lessons, students are beginning to think critically about their own writing. They are learning to ask the right questions about improvement, and that, to me, is more than half of the battle.

Victory #3: (Most) Students are truly engaged in the process.

Granted, I struggle with a handful of bare minimum-ists, but overall my students are diligently writing, getting excited about their topics, and engaging in the full workshop process — conferring, mentor-texts, drafting, all of it.

I know there are still places we need to grow.  I need to spend more time engaging those bare minimum-ists and get them to buy-in to their own writing.  There are many mini-lessons (particularly in grammar, usage, and mechanics) that still need to happen.  And I need to find increasingly intentional ways to get students to take what they read in a mentor text and pull it into their own pieces.

What about you?  What are you workshop victories? What are you struggling with? What are you struggling to let go of?

[Today in Writing Workshop] The Students Have Their Say: Data!

My students polished, printed, and turned-in their first writing workshop piece — a review. After the staple-dust settled, I had them reflect on the experience of writing paper #1 and writing workshop more generally.

 Of course, not every reflection was positive. Not every student loves writing workshop. Some still don’t like writing. No matter what. Period.

As you can see, the reflection was free-response. I have tried to encapsulate their responses.

How many mentor texts did you consult on your own?

0 – 7%

1 – 23%

2- 28%

3 – 30%

4- 7%

5+ – 1%

 

What was the most helpful mini lesson?

Genre — 3%

Leads — 38%

STAR Revisions (Kelly Gallagher) – 32%

Cleaning Up Your Writing — 13%

Organizing Your Review — 26%

Creating the Rubric — 1%

Did sharing your paper with peers help you improve your writing?

Yes — 65%

No — 19%

Maybe — 15%

 

How has writing workshop changed your writing?

Made me revise! — 7%

Gave me more time! — 40%

Gave me feedback — 32%

Made me think about my writing — 23%

Gave me skills that improved my writing — 17%

 

How has writing workshop differed from writing experiences in previous English classes?

Choice — 23%

Skills were actually taught/broken down in class — 21%

Gave me time to write — 32%

Gave me more help/ feedback — 21%

I’ve never written this much before — 5%

I have done writing workshop before — 5%

Gave us structure and routine — 3%

This was a new genre for me! — 7%

 

What do you think? What jumps out at you?  How might your students respond to these questions?

[Teaching Idea] The Power of Peers

Peer editing is the bane of my writing-instruction existence.  In my head,  I have visions of students intently listening to one another’s papers, becoming inspired by their peers, and subsequently revising with gusto. And instead, because my students in the past have seemed so ill-equipped to provide feedback to one another, I have resorted to peer editing checklists, peer editing letters, and an infinite number of other ineffective time-wastes.

Why do we force it, then? Why do I have a firmly-held belief that moving kids toward effective peer editing/ peer revision/ peer feedback is important?

I suppose it’s because I know that I  have heard writing from peers in the past that has sparked something in my writerly brain — things I’d like to try, ways I’d like to experiment. This happens in collegiate writing workshops all the time. So there must be a way to replicate it — or something like it — with high school students. Right?

Today, instead of a big peer editing rigmarole, I split my students into groups based on genre (those writing book reviews together, those writing TV reviews together, etc.).  These were my instructions:

  • Each person at your table should read your review out loud to the group — even if it isn’t perfect and even if it isn’t finished.
  • As you read, notice ways that you can improve your review. Ask for feedback if you need it!
  • As you listen, consider things you could borrow from your peers and put into your own review.

They read. They chatted a little bit. And then I had them reflect. On an index card, I had students write their name and tell me,

  • One thing they noticed they need to change as they read it out loud and/or
  • One thing they would like to borrow from a peer for their own paper

In a class of 27,

  • 4 wanted to work on mechanics and usage
  • 2 wanted to work on word choice / tone
  • 14 found specific things they wanted to add
  • 7 wanted to work on reorganization of paragraphs or the combining of paragraphs/sentences.

I was surprised … and a little impressed.  I had students staple these index cards to their drafts.

 It wasn’t exactly peer editing, but the interaction with peers sparked some measure of insight. Will they actually use these suggestions for revisions? I don’t know; we’ll see.  But I was proud of them for thinking critically and developing a goal to improve their writing.

[Dialogue] Why We Teach What We Teach

For you, what is the ultimate goal of teaching English?

Rebekah: I think we seek to teach students about themselves and the world around them through literature, and teach them how to express themselves and respond to the world around them through speaking and writing.

Taylor: Rebekah says it so beautifully that I hardly have anything to add. It’s a blessing and a curse that English class is about processes – specifically, thinking and communication – instead of discrete facts and knowledge. It certainly makes grading more difficult (how I sometimes envy the math teachers and their Scantrons!), but on the other hand, I feel like we equip students with skills they’ll use forever, rather than data they’ll forget tomorrow (and would be able to find on Google anyway).

 

Is that why you became a teacher?

Rebekah: I definitely became a teacher in order to teach English – because I loved books and words and writing. I later found out I loved lesson-planning, too. Much, much later – like, years later – I discovered, to my surprise, that I also love high school students.

And for some reason, I have always considered the subject of the lessons and the objects of those lessons to be discrete items.  Teaching English was one issue. Teaching English to high schoolers was another.

In my heart, I started primarily as a teacher of English, became a teacher of teenagers years later, and, in the last year or so, have moved somewhere in the middle – which I think is the healthy, happy place for me to be.

Taylor: It’s funny; I never thought of it this way, but teaching English and teaching teenagers came sort of separately to me, too. I was an English major – a poetry writing major even – and spent my school years immersed in books. My summers, though, were spent working at academic camps for high school kids. I loved both, but it took me a while to realize they could go together. And another high school English teacher was born!

 By what criteria do you select what you teach?

Rebekah: Taylor and I are fortunate to teach in a fairly open and permissive school system – we don’t have hard-and-fast pacing charts, we don’t have to teach a certain text at a certain time of year or a certain genre of writing in a certain month, and we don’t have texts that we have to teach. It’s awesome.

But that also makes it really hard to decide what to teach and how to teach it.  A problem of having too many options.

I choose texts to which most students should be able to connect and for which they are developmentally ready.  Beyond that, I want to teach texts that show students something about the world that I think they need to see. For my tenth graders, I love teaching Of Mice and Men so that we can dig deeply into issues of discrimination during the Great Depression and in our own cafeteria. And I love teaching Much Ado About Nothing so that we can think about the effects of gossip. With my IB students, I choose texts that I think are meaty in terms of literary value and merit.

Obviously, the story of how, why, and what I teach in writing is a longer story that has undergone a much more dramatic shift in the last eight years. To sum up, though, I teach genres of writing that they will see again and use again in future courses and the “real world”.

Taylor: I’ll echo what Rebekah said (although I am not nearly as good as she is at leading discussions about social issues) and add that as a 9th grade teacher, I try to choose texts that employ sophisticated literary techniques in ways that are accessible. For me, this means traditional-but-accessible novels like To Kill a Mockingbird, non-traditional-but-accessible novels like The House on Mango Street, and a variety of (mostly contemporary) poetry. As I’ve moved into teaching in our school’s pre-IB and IB program, diversity has been on my mind more, too.

Like Rebekah, I try to teach the genres of writing students will see again (especially as a ninth grade teacher trying to lay some proverbial foundations).

Have your selections or methods for selection changed through your career?

Rebekah: Oh, yes. I think they change every year, really.  When I started teaching, I believed that I was, in fact, Michelle Pfeiffer in Dangerous Minds and that teaching English was teaching social justice. All the time.  (Let’s be honest: “I am not Michelle Pfeiffer” is still one of the mantras I repeat to myself.)  I taught for the purpose of radically changing society through the changed lives of teenagers. It was a bit dramatic.

I have shifted my views over and over through the years. I have taught solely based on skills they would need in the future. I have taught solely based on the love of great literature and the value of literature in a society.

Right now, I am trying to find balance. Teaching English really has all of these possibilities in mind. Currently, teaching writing is my big passion, and the literature is mostly just giving students something to think and write about.  This year (and last year, and for years before that as a hunch)  I see writing – really good writing – as the thing that will propel them forward academically, professionally, and personally.

Taylor: 3.5 years hardly makes a career, but I will say that my first two years, I taught what everyone else taught. As my feet got wet and I figured out what was in our deep, dark book room, I figured out that I should teach what the kids need, instead of what’s always been done (although the two overlap sometimes).

[Teaching Idea] (Crafty) Book Talks

   One of the ways that I seek to break up the enormous chunk of Crafting, Conferencing, and Inspiration time that I have set aside for students is with book talks.  But not just any book talks. Since we are focusing on writing all semester long, our book talks will likewise focus on writing — on craft.

Every day, a different student is responsible for giving a crafty book talk — first giving the class a run-down of the major plot elements and then honing in on one element of the writing that they love or hate.

Here’s the rubric!

[Writing Workshop Fundamentals] How Rebekah’s Classroom Makes Writing Workshop Work

As Taylor mentioned in our dialogue last week,  writing workshop is a complete and all-consuming way of classroom life — not an activity that you slip in when you have a few minutes to spare. One of the biggest elements of planning for writing workshop in your classroom is tackling all of the things that elementary school teachers are great at — systems, routines, folders, color-coding, etc.

For me, this is something that is ever-evolving; I continue to try to find better and better systems of organization that will help both me and my students. Today, I take you on a tour of my classroom and some of those physical classroom structures that make this thing work.

 Folders

There are folders, folders everywhere!  And notebooks, too! Each of my students has a writer’s notebook (where they keep notes from mini-lessons and quick writes) and a writing folder (where they house their daily reflection log and current drafts). I have crates (left) for each class where they can leave these items if they don’t need them overnight.  The crates are by the door, so that as students walk in, they can grab their materials.

I also have table folders (right). In these I put the day’s handouts for each table, that way I am not spending so much time walking around and passing things out.  When students have homework to turn in, they leave them in these folders for me to pick up at the end of class.

There are yet more folders for mentor texts (left). I keep them in the center of the room and allow students to come up and pull from these whenever they feel they need to. (I also use mentor texts all the time for mini-lessons. These are little vaults of mentor texts that the students can use for inspiration.) Here, you can see I have them categorized by the type of review.  Having these mentor texts at hand for students all the time has made them use them much more than I have seen in the past!

Clipboards

My clipboards for each class (right) hang on the wall beside my desk. This keeps me on the straight and narrow, knowing what the kids are working on and making sure that I conference with all of them a few times per week. If you would like to use my chart, you can find it here.

 

Options

Last but not least,  I made a bulletin board! (This is big news in my world; I hate bulletin board-making. I’m terrible at bulletin board-making.) This is a visual cue for students, reminding them of their options during Crafting, Conferencing, and Inspiration time. You will see that “confer with a peer” is currently covered up; we need more work before they can choose that option.

 What writing workshop organization quandry do you find yourself in? What systems have you found to keep your classroom life straight?

[Today in Writing Workshop] “Worried in advance about…”

My first week of full-time writing workshop is (briskly) swimming along — it turns out that moving from a full semester of literature study (with a long-term sub) and into a full semester of writing workshop isn’t as jarring or traumatizing as I expected it to be.

Best of all — the students are doing. I love talking to them about it. I love watching it happen.

But now that my first genre is in full-swing, I have naturally begun the process of worrying about my next unit.  After students have finished their persuasive piece,  they will be doing territory writing (writing in a genre of their choice on a topic of their choice based on their writing territories,  pioneered by Nancie Atwell, also used by Penny Kittle).  I am anticipating some more persuasive pieces as well as many, many narratives and a few expository pieces, too.

I began worrying about finding good, helpful mentor texts for expository writing, so I shot an email to Taylor.  Here is our conversation today (as well as a very good representation of our work collaboration — I have lots of questions, Taylor has lots of helpful suggestions). This is literally our exact conversation.

 From: Rebekah

 To: Taylor

 Date: Thu, 02 Feb 2012 10:27:33 -0500
 Subject: worried in advance about …

 expository mentor texts.

 Finding narrative mentor texts should be easy enough, but expository … where would I find them?

I’ve now gotten them all so reliant on models that if I don’t have any for their next piece (territory writing, and you know some of them will just want to write “about skateboards”) they will be utterly lost.

From: Taylor

To: Rebekah

Date: Thu, 02 Feb 2012 10:43:08 -0500
Subject: Re: worried in advance about …

It makes me think about what expository writing IS and where it would appearin real life. I guess I’ve always said it EXPLAINS…so I guess it could explain something (or someone), how to do something, or _____ (I feel like  there’s something else? cause and effect?).  If that’s the case, then maybe it could include:

- a profile of someone, some thing, somewhere? travel writing that’s
 not  persuasive? biography?
 - encyclopedia type articles
 - how to do something — instruction manuals, magazine article
 step-by-steps?
 - cause and effect…history articles?

From: Rebekah

To: Taylor

Date: Thu, 02 Feb 2012 10:47:11 -0500
Subject: Re: worried in advance about …
Those are good suggestions. THANKS.

I just don’t know what to call it when a kid wants to write “about
skateboarding”. (Other than BORING.) And in the past I feel like I have pushed those kids to turn it into a narrative — tell me a STORY aboutskateboarding.

But I don’t want to make the kids turn everything into a narrative. BUT, maybe if I say it needs to be one of those other things (a “how-to”,etc.), then they can make their own decisions?

From: Taylor

To: Rebekah

Date: Thu, 02 Feb 2012 11:28:47 -0500
Subject: Re: worried in advance about …

Yeah, or explaining a particular aspect of skateboarding or type or something? Like put the onus on them to bring in a skateboarding magazine and show you the different kinds of articles in it? Or you could push them toward a profile of a particular guy. Do you think biography qualifies  as
expository? That might get too research-y, I guess.

We didn’t completely resolve the question today, but Taylor did give me some good places to start.  We are super lucky to have one another — experimenting with this writing workshop thing together.  For me in particular, without someone else to bounce ideas around with, I’m not sure I would have had the guts to change the entire structure of my teaching. And I definitely wouldn’t have as many good ideas!

Do you have someone like this at your school — a partner in thinking and writing workshopping? If not, feel free to shoot us an email (writingworkshopland@gmail.com). We’d love to be a sounding board for you!

 

[Today in Writing Workshop] Our First Time Out of the Gate

Today we said goodbye to first semester literature (and maternity-leave-induced chaos) in the dust and said hello to writing workshop.

The kids walked in to a (delightful) confusion of new table configurations and folders awaiting their tables — full of handouts and mentor texts — and individual folders, labeled brightly with their names in neon.  The folders screamed, “I’m new! Write in me!”

At least they did to me.

I walked my students through a dizzying set of new routines — “Writer’s Notebook is for mini-lessons and QuickWrites (no drafts!), Writing Folder is for drafts (all of them!) and daily reflection log!  Here’s where you keep the folders! There’s our daily rhythm! These are the conditions under which you may listen to your iPod!”, etc., etc.

The students seemed … well, attentive. And maybe a little overwhelmed.  But with me.

One mini-lesson later (using mentor texts to distinguish common characteristics of the persuasive genre), the students set to work on a draft, and I cruised the room, snooping on their great ideas. And there were some great ideas. While I had only envisioned reviews of books, television shows, movies, and video games, I saw reviews of apps, cookbooks, webseries, and football games, too!

What a lark! What a plunge!

Tomorrow, the harder work of writing workshop begins — moving them past first drafts, encouraging them to see their writing in different ways, pushing them to take some risks and try something new.

 

-Rebekah

[Dialogue] “In the beginning” …. Getting Started with Writing Workshop

In this series,  we will discuss various issues related to writing workshop, not only as a way to bounce ideas off of one another (which we do constantly), but also to demonstrate that there are many ways to run a workshop while still being faithful to the method. Today, we’re discussing why and how we got started with this crazy thing. :)

How did you discover (or re-discover) writing workshop? What was the appeal?

Taylor: For me, using writing workshop has not been a re-discovery but a constant search for just how I could use it in my high school classroom.  I read all the same books that most future-English teacher read in college, but I had the unique experience of seeing a true Atwellian style workshop in action.  For the first half of my student teaching, I worked with a sixth grade Language Arts teacher who mini-lessoned and drafted and conferenced the heck out of some 11-year-olds!   I saw workshop work.  Of course, I saw the other end of the spectrum (“Julius Caesar essay due Tuesday.  Five paragraphs, double-spaced.”) in my second, 11th grade placement.

When I got my own job, my kids were in 9th grade, somewhere in between those 11-year-olds and the 11th graders.  Starting my first year, I tried to find a form of writing workshop that would fall somewhere in between, too.  I’m still trying.

Seeing both of those classrooms – one in which kids were excited about writing and actually getting better at it, and one in which the traditional methods were producing lifeless, apathetic writing and writers – is what motivated me (and continues to motivate me) to apply the principles of WW.

Rebekah:  For me, it was pure desperation.  I had read In the Middle in my teacher prep program. I was told that this is the way to teach writing. But, let’s be honest, In the Middle is about middle school — a place I hoped to avoid — and everything was such a blur in teacher prep that I just skimmed through it. I figured I would worry about writing instruction later. :)

After five or six years of pushing off  developing a philosophy for my writing instruction — and pretty much just assigning papers — I realized that I kept hitting a big, brick writing wall. The papers were terrible. I was miserable.  The only person who learned anything about writing was me — that this wasn’t the way to teach it.  I thought back to In the Middle and again dismissed it (because that can’t work in high school!). That’s when Taylor discovered Penny Kittle, and everything changed.

So, how has your workshop evolved over the years? What did you try in the beginning that you’ve gotten rid of? What elements have you added? What has remained constant?

Taylor: The most significant ways my workshop has evolved “over the years” (I feel silly saying this, since it’s only been 3 and a half!) are:

-         It has shifted from piecemeal to planned.

-         I devote more class time to it.

When I started, I was using elements of WW, all of which I still use – giving students choice, conferencing, mini-lessons, etc.  However, I didn’t give much thought to how the individual elements would work together and to the various systems and routines I would have to put in place to support the workshop.  The summer before my third year, I sat down and considered every aspect of the workshop experience I could think of, from what kind of folders we would need to rules during writing times to how I would determine grades, and that gave me a whole new level of purpose and intention.

Time was also a game-changer.  My first couple years, we “did workshop” when it was convenient, which was not necessarily every day (we had posters to make, after all!  Ah, the silly things I thought I had to do to “engage” students…).  Now, WW gets time every day, consistently.  It’s just that important.

Rebekah: Since I taught writing so poorly for so many years, I didn’t really have a writing workshop adjustment period. I jumped in whole-hog from the get-go.  Trial by fire.

I have changed some little tiny, insignificant bits here and there — like my grammar instruction (working it into the workshop as opposed to making it a separate entity) — but overall I started with all of the writing workshop fundamentals, I saw they work, and I’ve stuck with them.

What fears/obstacles did you have to overcome to try it? What elements of WW (or of current educational realities) made you hesitate?

Taylor: I think my ignorance and inexperience shielded me from a lot of the fear I should have had!  As a brand new teacher with no one telling me what or how to teach, I tried out some of the methods I had learned from Atwell and my student teaching placements without really considering that I was doing something difficult or different.  That became apparent a few weeks into the school year, when I ran into the tough parts…how do I keep track of what everyone’s doing?  Aren’t they supposed to write about literature in addition to these personal narratives?  How am I going to grade all this??

My workshop definitely faded over the course of that first year, replaced by more traditional methods, as most of my energy was swallowed up by figuring out the realities of what it means to be a teacher, to work in a school.  The paperload, grading, questions about genre and SOLs, and the isolation all became obstacles to my idealistic workshop classroom.

Rebekah:  The biggest fear for me was the stuff I couldn’t plan for, which, in writing workshop, is a lot. I LOVE lesson planning and filling out my plan book and having all of my copies in order before class begins.  Knowing that I would have to let go of the reigns a bit and see what happens before planning how to respond to it made me nervous.  I wanted a script going into a conference and all of my mini-lessons planned before the workshop began. And writing workshop just doesn’t work that way for the most part.

What were the hardest parts of getting going?

Taylor: My first two years of piecemeal workshop taught me a big lesson: I had to go all the way with it, and I had to have a “big picture” from Day One.  That thought was daunting…like developing a whole new approach to instruction, with all kinds of tedious details, too (How long will they write?  Which genres will we do, when, how long?  Where do I get the cheapest folders?).  Penny Kittle is the one who helped get me over that hump, and that has made all the difference.  When I could envision how workshop would look in my classroom on a daily, monthly, and yearly basis, it started to fall together.

Rebekah: I totally agree with Taylor; the most daunting part was knowing that to do this right, it had to be a complete and total change in the life of my classroom. Writing workshop isn’t something that is an activity you pull out one day and forget about — everything about the way we did English class was going to have to change. And it’s a lot to think through! Thankfully, I had Taylor who had been there and experimented before me to help me hash things out.

Both of you have cited Penny Kittle’s Write Beside Them as a major influence. How was the Kittle stuff different than what you had read or seen before? How did it move you toward a new vision of workshop in your classroom?

 Taylor: There’s so much that I learned from Kittle, so I’ll just mention one thing – from her book, I realized that not only could WW work in high school, but that it could be rigorous and serious…not all touchy-feely personal narratives and sharing time.  I loved her genre approach, her thoughtful mini-lessons, her challenging mentor texts, and she inspired me to incorporate many of the same strategies and routines.

Rebekah:  For me, Penny (yes, I call her Penny in my head. I think we’d be great friends) is like the Barak Obama of writing workshop. Her book has SO many wonderful ideas, so many fantastic examples — but the biggest thing I took away from it was a resounding “YES, WE CAN!” for high school teachers who previously believed that we couldn’t make writing workshop adapt to our teaching reality.

From that, I not only found the courage to give it a try but also the license to continue to take the fundamentals of workshop and mold them to fit a high school literature course, too!

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