Write to Be Heard

Teaching Reflection by Annmarie Ferry

After an emotionally draining week, I sat down at my work station, talking myself into doing something productive when all I really wanted to do was log a sick day and go home.  As I perused my emails--some spam from former students' parents, a fairly regular occurrence in the past month or so--a subject line grabbed my attention. Instead of the telltale spam lines, it actually had the student's name. This particular student's parents advocated for him like nobody's business, and we quickly formed an alliance, one that aimed to boost *Tim's confidence.

I wanted to share with you because you believed in him...it began. I truly did believe in this kid, even when he tried his hardest to convince me he couldn't meet my expectations. 

Tim signed a very good music publishing deal with a music company in LA. He is writing music and lyrics for famous artists and also still pursuing his own music. Every hair on my arms was standing on end as tears welled up. Like I said, it had been an emotional week, but who am I kidding? I get choked up anytime I hear something awesome about a former student. 

He always did well in writing, and he proudly remembers the award you nominated him for.  Wait. What? I think back. I did nominate him for a school-wide English III subject area award that he ended up winning, but I can't believe he actually remembers that. 

You changed his life! Thank you. 

I read that last line 100 times, tears now streaming down my cheeks. I would have never fathomed a small gesture like that could have such a lasting impact. 

It's not often in life we get to see or hear about the influence we have had on people. But, when we do, it's so affirming. 

That affirmation could not have come at a better time.

I started reflecting upon that English III class. All of the students assigned to me had Individual Education Plans (IEPs), and many of their deficits had to do with written language skills.  They came to me convinced they were not good writers because of past standardized writing tests on which they did not score proficient. Ditto the state reading assessments. Trying to convince this group of jaded 16-17 year olds that they could write was no easy feat. 

I knew the best way to do that was to have them write. Every single day.They wrote short responses to thought questions. They wrote dialectic journals. They wrote personal responses to literature. They wrote poems, including my favorite, the found poem. They wrote letters. They wrote speeches. They wrote mini-memoirs. They wrote short stories. They wrote RAFT responses. They wrote some essays, but not formulaic 5-paragraph essays. In fact, I banned 5-paragraph essays. 

"Give me 4 or 6 paragraphs," I told them as they all stared at me in shock.

"We don't know how to write any other way," they whined.

I assured them I'd help them through the process of breaking the mold. "Plus, I don't like odd numbers," I responded with a wink.

What I got that year was some fantastic 4-paragraph essays with well-developed body paragraphs, not the requisite 5 sentences they were used to. It wasn't easy, but the learning process never is--if you're truly learning and growing. 

More than that, I was treated to some really deep and insightful writing.  First, we had to establish a safe space, a supportive community of writers. We did that through writing and sharing that writing. I had to be the one to start that, to make myself vulnerable right off the bat. I sat amongst them and wrote while they wrote. Then, I plopped my writing under the document camera and let them critique it. At first they were hesitant to give me feedback, but they began to open up to the idea. 

Some of them jumped at the chance to share their writing while others needed more time to put their words out there. Some of them never did read their words out loud, and I didn't forced it. They shared their thoughts in writing, and for them, that was an act of bravery in and of itself. 

These kids just wanted to--needed to--be heard, to have a voice in a world that didn't seem to value what they had to say. I don't think any one person told them they didn't count. I believe it was years of being labeled as "learning disabled" and falling short on state tests that made them feel less than. 

The writing they produced that year was all the empirical evidence I needed that I was on the right track. I watched as they blossomed and became more confident in sharing their thoughts and ideas. 

That is the real power in writing. Not everyone is a natural-born writer, just as I'm not a talented painter or singer. But, by applying a growth mindset and providing ample opportunities to just write, writers will be born. Their craft will be honed. 

Above all, writing gives everyone a voice. A voice that begs to be heard. A voice that deserves to be heard. 

*name changed to protect student's identity