The reader's notebook we use, a customized version of Fountas and Pinnell's
Guiding Readers and Writers (Grades 3-6)
, is a seventy-page spiral notebook with photocopies of charts and lists trimmed and glued into the front. The notebook has several sections for recording students' reading activities:
â¢
Tally list:
This page is divided into columns for the genres and number of titles I require students to read. Students tally the books they have read as they go, and I sign off on any genre requirements that they complete.
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Reading list:
This list is where students record all of the books they have read or attempted and abandoned. Each book's entry includes the title, author, date the book was finished, and the student's assessment of how difficult the book was to read.
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Books-to-read list:
This list serves as a shopping list or plan for a student's future reading. Students record sequels that are yet to be published, books recommended by peers or me, or books that they have previewed and want to read later.
â¢
Response entries:
The majority of the reader's notebook is dedicated to response entries. The focus of these letters is aesthetic; students reflect on their personal reactions to the books they read and on the authors' writing. I write letters that respond back, asking questions and digging into students' interpretations and appreciation of their books.
I make a notebook for myself, too. I record all of the books I read from the beginning of summer to the end of one school year and carry the notebook with me to class every day. During book commercials (on-the-spot book recommendations by students), I list any books students recommend that I would like to read, and I access my notebook during conferences and class discussions when a student needs the name of an author or a recommendation about a book they know I have read. In the section of my notebook that corresponds to the one where students write their response entries, I write conference notes instead. Students grab their notebooks every day at the beginning of class and refer to them constantly, adding books, checking off reading requirements, or drafting responses. When we meet for conferences, I expect students to bring their notebook so we can look at it together and talk about it. And I bring mine.
WHISPER
Reader's Notebooks
MY CLASSROOM IS AN anthillâalive, bustling, each member working independently, yet united in our common purpose: reading. An undercurrent of students' voices, whispering to one another, reinforces the feeling of industry and meaningful work. Josh and Jon stretch out across a pile of beanbags in one corner, wrapped up in their books. Courtney and Lauren sit on the couch, heads together, reading
What My Mother Doesn't Know
, Sonya Sones's latest book of narrative poetry. Bishop sits at the computer, skimming Amazon for quotes he can cite in his book review of
Peak
. Jacob and Madison are updating their reading lists. Daniella is writing a response letter. The students' writing and conversations are a natural progression from the reading that they are doing. I sit in the center, perched on my green director's chair, chatting with Eric about his latest book,
Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
, and his experiences in reading such a challenging work:
“The vocabulary in
Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
is pretty complicated. How did you get through it?”
“Well, some of the words I looked up, and some I skipped; I could get the idea.”
“Did you find yourself rereading parts of it?”
“Yeah. I read slower, too.”
“Eric, those strategies you usedâreading more slowly, looking up words, skipping words when you found clues to the meaningâthose are all strategies that readers use when they come across words they don't know.”
“It took me a while, but I was proud of myself for finishing it.”
Eric and I talk about what he plans to read nextâMichael Crichton's contemporary adult science fiction novels
Jurassic Park
and
The Lost Worldâ
and I dash off a few comments in my notebook about his use of reading strategies to define unknown vocabulary.
Our conferences are born in students' notebooks, where they write response entries to me once a week and turn them in. (See
Figure 4.2
for an example of a response entry.) I study each child's reading progress in greater detail by looking at the first three sections of their notebook.
These pages tell me about a student's reading momentum. I look for holes in reading lists and note trends that may indicate whether the student is finishing books or avoiding particular genres like biography or poetry. When I see that a student is having problems getting through books, sticking too closely to a genre, or not making plans for future reading, I consider whether the student is stalled.
After school, I dig through the milk crate under my desk, where students turn in their notebooks to me, and pull Molly's from the top of the pile. Her recent response letter makes me smile. Molly is reading Cornelia Funke's
Inkheart
because I suggested it to her. We have come a long way from the first weeks of school, when I plied her with book after book and she rejected them all. She was suspicious of any book I recommended back then. Now she knows my suggestions come from a reader's enthusiasm, not a teacher's agenda. Her entry (see
Figure 4.2
) provides valuable clues about Molly as a reader and what she takes away from the book she is reading.
FIGURE 4.2
:
Extract from the Reader's Notebook of a Student
Source: Molly, grade 6.
I see that Molly can repeat the events of
Inkheart
, a basic comprehension skill, but her entry reveals much more. Her anticipation for the ending shows her engagement with the story and her investment in its outcome. By soliciting advice about whether she should read the sequel, Molly reveals our trusting reader-to-reader relationship.
I have fond memories of reading
Inkheart
, too, and I am pleased that Molly enjoys it as much as I had hoped. My curiosity about her personal connections with the book forms the basis for my response:
Dear Molly,
I enjoyed
Inkheart
, too! It is one of my favorite books (I know I say this all of the time, but I mean it!). I have never read a book which explores the power of reading to change your life (both negatively and positively) in such an interesting way. I always ask readers of
Inkheart
which book they would read themselves into if they could. Do you have a favorite story you would like to visit? Which character is your favorite? Can you guess who mine is?
Inkspell
is wonderful, and certainly worth reading, but you might want to take a break between
Inkheart
and the sequel. Both books are so long!
No inauthenticity here; obviously, I have read
Inkheart
. My conversational tone with Molly about a book we have both enjoyed and my advice about reading
Inkspell
reinforces our bond as readers. I ask Molly high-level comprehension questions that require her to evaluate and analyze the book and her impressions of it.
These letters are exchanges between a more experienced reader and a less experienced reader, not a list of questions probing whether or not Molly read the book. I challenge Molly to think more deeply about the book, but from the stance of a more advanced reader who read
Inkheart
, too. Readers whispering back and forth about their reading experiencesâthis is how reading should look.
CHAPTER 5
Walking the Walk
When I look back, I am so impressed again with the
life-giving power of literature. If I were a young
person today, trying to gain a sense of myself in the
world, I would do that again by reading, just as I did
when I was young.
âMaya Angelou
Â
I feel really bad about all those good books out there waiting for me to read them.
âParker
Â
Â
R
ETURNING FROM WINTER BREAK, my students gather around me in the hall. “Well, did you make it?” Madison asks me, referring to my goal of reading one book for each of the twelve days of the holiday.
“No, I didn't. I only read eight.”
“Only eight? Only eight,” Jon laughs at me, shaking his head.
“Yeah, I got bogged down in a book I wasn't enjoying, and I started to read less so that I wouldn't have to deal with it,” I admit.
“What book was it, Mrs. Miller?” someone asks.
“The True Meaning of Smekdayâ
it's on a lot of hot book lists for this year, and it's about alien invasion; you would have thought it would have been more exciting, but it just drags and drags.”
Stacey pipes up, “That happened to me when I tried to read
Uglies
. I know that all of the girls rave about that book, but I just couldn't get into it.”
Turning back to me, Madison asks, “So, what did you do?”
“I set it off to the side and read
The Higher Power of Lucky
instead! Hey, Riley, I finished
Marly's Ghost
, too; thanks for recommending it to me. I loved it, but it was sad!”
Riley laughs, “I know!”
“Does anyone else want to read
Smekday?
” I ask them. “I bet it would be good for another reader, but I am going to abandon it.”
Several students clamor to get the book from me, and I pass it on. My students like to read the books that I read and recommend to them, but they also like to read the books that I have abandoned and prove me wrong. A few years back, Jared strutted around the entire year because he read and loved
The Last Book in the Universe
, by Rodman Philbrick, a speculation on a possible future without books. I had renamed this book
The Last Book I Will Ever Finish
because I had abandoned it twice. Jared declared it was one of his favorites and got several other students to read it, too.
The Need for Reading Role Models: The Crux of the Reading Crisis
My credibility with students and the reason they trust me when I recommend books to them stems from the fact that I read every day of my life and that I talk about reading constantly. I am not mandating an activity for them that I do not engage in myself. I do not promote reading to my students because it is good for them or because it is required for school success. I advocate reading because it is enjoyable and enriching. When my students think about me in the future, I want them to remember me as a reader with a book in my hand and a recommendation on my lips.
The relationships I build with my students are predominantly those of one reader to another. I am so enthusiastic about reading, so joyful about books, so willing to share my opinions and my reading experiences that my students are swept up in my love of books and want to feel it for themselves. We talk about books together all day, from the first moment I greet students in the hall until we pack up books to read at home each night. My students laugh at me when I stagger into class bleary-eyed and tell them that I stayed up too late reading my latest book. They may laugh, but they also see that reading is something I value enough to lose sleep over.
Findings from a 2007 Associated Press poll, reported in the
Washington Post
, indicate that the average adult American read only four books that entire year. This statistic does not tell the whole story; of the adults who read, their average was seven books, but 25 percent of the respondents did not read a book at all (Fram, 2007). Teachers fare no better on surveys of adult reading behaviors than the general population; in the 2004 article “The Peter Effect,” Anthony and Mary Applegate report that of the preservice teachers whom they studied, 54.3 percent were unenthusiastic about reading, leaving little hope that these teachers would be able to inspire students to engage in an activity they themselves did not enjoy. This data is all the more alarming when you consider that “one of the key factors in motivating students to read is a teacher who values reading and is enthusiastic about sharing a love of reading with students” (Gambrell, 1996). What is going on here? Why aren't adults, even teachers, reading, and what is this doing to our students?