Maximizing Memory (and Learning)

Memory formation is a byproduct of other cognitive processes, explains Dr. Lila Devachi (2008) of NYU’s Centers for Neural Science and Brain Imaging. We cannot say to ourselves, “Okay, I’m now going to make a memory,” and then turn on THE memory-making brain function. However, we can engage the cognitive processes that construct memory as a “byproduct.”

Dr. Devachi lists six such cognitive processes:

1. attention: focused attention increases activity in the hippocampus, a brain structure in which increased activation correlates with memory formation
2. working with information: engaging in QUALITY processing (vs. mere quantity) of new material increases the likelihood of memory formation
3. organizing information: sorting new material and relating it to known ideas and previous experiences
4. generation: actually speaking the item, or retelling, increases the likelihood of memory formation
5. practice distribution: spaced retrieval of new memories increases memory formation; recent research indicates that multiple retrieval rather than multiple exposure (e.g., studying or re-reading a text) promotes better memory formation
6. context: imagining the time and place in which new material is encountered positively influences recall

What can teachers take from this list? Processing new material beyond merely seeing it or hearing it increases the likelihood of memory. A major emphasis of our teaching needs to focus on engaging students in such processing.

The Architecture of Learning™ instructional design model actually builds such processing into teaching. When not using such a framework for designing instruction, we need to be mindful of engaging students in quality processing of new material.

It’s the processing that maximizes memory (and therefore learning).

References
Devachi, L. (2008, October). The limits of memory: How to maximize your memory trace. Session presented at the 2008 North American Neuroleadership Summit, New York.

Transforming Substance into Significance, Part 10: Teacher Expertise—"Critics" & Teachers

Teachers as “Critics”
The BBC used to produce a show in which an individual was taken from his normal surroundings and professional practices and placed in a month-long, immersion experience in a profession he dreamed of practicing. At the conclusion of the month, the individual faced a test. He or she had to interact effectively with peers in the assumed profession and fool the field’s critics into thinking he was a professional. The show was fascinating on many levels—observing the learners who effectively gained the knowledge they needed, watching the “teachers” and seeing their influence—but especially to observe the interaction of critics and pretender.

The critics interviewed three people in each show: two practicing professionals and the “faker” who had completed a month of immersion training. Because they had such depth of knowledge, the critics often knew exactly the questions that would trip up an faker. In fact, the questions required so much understanding of the field that they often tripped up the practicing professionals.

One memorable episode featured a house painter who dreamed of becoming an abstract artist with displays of his work in art galleries. The month featured ups and downs as the painter learned technique, vocabulary, history, and the qualities of great abstract painting. His interaction with peers at a gallery display was quite good. But the critics, who had reviewed his paintings, knew exactly what the painter’s strengths and needs were. (They also knew the strengths and weaknesses of the two practicing professionals whose work was on display.) Within moments of scanning the work, most of the critics identified the “faker.”

What I found especially memorable about this episode, however, was the faker’s response. He wanted to learn more! He had begun to develop as a professional artist, and he treated the critics’ input as a step in the learning. His concluding remarks made it clear that he hoped to continue developing. Returning to house painting would not satisfy this budding abstract artist.

What does this have to with writing instruction? First, the critics had the task of assessing the painter’s work. They had to know what they were looking for so well that by merely scanning a work they could identify its strengths and weaknesses. Writing teachers need to be equally familiar with the writing tasks they assign students and the criteria with which they will assess the results. This knowledge enables coaching: the teacher can quickly assess the strengths and needs of the student writer and suggest ways of improving it. Second, the critics’ input became an instrument of learning. Writing teachers should view assessment as an ongoing component of teaching and learning. The caring input students receive while writing not only improves the writing they are doing but provides guidance for future writing. Coach a developing writer enough on effective sentence limits and soon that young writer’s rough drafts feature better constructed sentences. And when the young writer develops that awareness and the skill of crafting sentences, there will be no going back. That element of good writing has been integrated into the writer’s practice.

Writing teachers need to be effective “critics”; they need to be constantly assessing student writing and offering suggestions for increased achievement. However, unlike critics in the art world, the teacher needs to assess within an environment of nourishing passion (Maisel, 2005). A nourishing passion:

• communicates that a student matters
• conveys that students’ meaning-making through writing is valuable
• makes certain that students understand the purpose for writing
• helps construct feelings of competency in students by actually developing student competencies
• transmits a love for a student’s current project
• takes student thinking and writing seriously
• communicates excitement about writing and each facet it comprises

Developing young writers requires a caring, critical eye combined with a nourishing spirit.

Teachers as Writing Teachers
It may seem obvious that writing teachers need to be effective teachers of writing, but let’s examine what characterizes effective writing instruction.

First, effective writing instruction engages the brain’s natural learning processes—i.e., the teaching aligns with how the brain learns. When teaching concepts such as genre, the teacher uses activities that engage the thinking students need to construct understanding. When teaching revision skills, the teacher uses activities that engage the thinking and action students need to develop utility.

Second, effective writing instruction uses instructional methods known to be effective in developing young writers. Direct instruction in revision skills and coaching throughout the writing process are two examples. Both directly influence the young writer’s ability to improve writing.

Third, effective writing instruction sequences activities in ways that optimize student development. The flow of instruction enables students to gain the knowledge, construct the understanding, develop the utility, and ultimately integrate the new learning into successful and consistent practice.

Finally, effective writing instruction flows easily from direct instruction to individual coaching as needed to optimize student achievement. The teacher adjusts the instructional material and techniques in accordance with student learning needs.

Teaching writing successfully requires a knowledgeable, caring, and effective teacher. No other school-based factor contributes more to a young writer’s development. The best teachers are those who are well-equipped to teach writing—those who know how to craft writing themselves and know how to guide young writers to such practice. The teacher, not any textbook or materials, makes the difference.

For information on Clerestory Learning's The Writer's Stylus, click here or contact Clerestory Learning via this form.

Transforming Substance into Significance, Part 9: Teacher Expertise—Writers & Coaches

Sufficient research exists to make the following claim: the most significant school-based factor influencing student achievement is the quality of the teacher in the classroom. An effective teacher increases a child’s achievement. An ineffective teacher decreases a child’s achievement.

This seems like common sense, but perhaps we remain unaware of the magnitude of difference the classroom teacher makes. Educational researcher Robert Marzano (2003) uncovered the teacher’s significant influence: nearly 70% of a school’s influence on student achievement results from the teacher’s effectiveness. It’s worth reiterating: the quality of the teacher in the classroom is the most significant school-based factor influencing student achievement.

What does this have to do with teaching writing? For students to optimize achievement and reach their potential as writers, we need effective writing teachers.
What, then, makes a writing teacher effective? Four areas of competence emerge:

• effective writing teachers can produce quality writing themselves
• effective writing teachers can coach other writers to improved results
• effective writing teachers can accurately assess writing and identify elements of excellence and potential improvement
• effective teachers teach writing using sound instructional methods in effective combinations

Let’s examine each area.

Teachers as Writers
“In most other fields of endeavor, those who instruct are required to have a minimum level of expertise,” claims author and teacher Gloria Houston (2004). “In the teaching of writing in the English-speaking world, that has often not been the case, so teachers feel frustrated…Teachers who do not know how to write are required to teach writing…[Teachers] want to do well, but they often do not know where to begin” (p. 1).

Can you relate to this? With rare exception, the teachers I know have experienced the frustration Houston describes. We want to teach students to write well, but we lack the knowledge that would make us confident writers ourselves.

Allow me to illustrate via my own experience. I grew up in a literate environment. My mother loved the public library, and she took me to it often. As soon as I was old enough, I had my own library card. Throughout elementary and secondary school, teachers generally praised my writing. (I was pretty good at snowing my teachers with essay responses that didn’t necessarily answer the question they had asked.) When I entered college, I passed the entrance assessment and bypassed all basic level writing courses. I majored in English and graduated with a Bachelor of Arts degree. From all appearances, it should have been safe to assume that I knew how to write well.

But assumptions do not always match reality. As I began my teaching career, I engaged my students in frequent writing tasks, but I quickly realized that analyzing the themes in great British and American literary works did not equip me to teach fourth grade students how to write well. Saying things like, “You know, like Shakespeare does in Hamlet,” didn’t seem to have any effect. I muddled along with the textbook’s suggestions for several years but always felt I lacked the knowledge to really help students improve their writing. What should I have them consider once the rough draft was complete? What specific direction could I provide for clarifying and strengthening their writing? I was the teacher Gloria Houston describes: I wanted to teach writing well, but I did not know where to begin because I lacked content knowledge. I did not know how to craft my own writing beyond the draft stage.

Which brings us to a critical component of successful instructional writing programs. High quality programs include a comprehensive professional development component—training that equips teachers with the knowledge and know-how to develop their own writing capacity. By improving the writing abilities of teachers, we can overcome the frustration Gloria Houston describes and increase our instructional effectiveness.

Teachers as Writing Coaches
The single most important, most effective, and most valuable instruction a developing writer can receive is coaching by a caring expert. Coaching is a person-to-person activity, a chance for a writer to interact about his work with an interested individual. Good coaching provides strategic help, personal support, and individual challenge.

Increasing coaching increases learning. Marzano (2003) found that students who had teachers that consistently provided timely and specific feedback scored anywhere from 21 to 41 percentage points higher on standardized tests than students who had teachers that failed to provide such feedback. Neurologist and classroom teacher Dr. Judy Willis (2006) offers a likely explanation for this dramatic impact: “One of the most successful strategies for engaging students’ brains in their lessons comes from personal connection and accountability” (p. 82). Through frequent coaching, teachers connect with individual students, hold them accountable, provide an opportunity for student questioning, and optimize learning and achievement.

But what does it take to be a great writing coach? Research suggests:

• in-depth knowledge of each phase of the writing process, especially revision
• knowledge of what completing a specific writing task involves
• knowledge of how to guide a young writer from one phase of writing to the next
• an attitude that is “supportive, honest, critical, but always encouraging” (Lukeman, 2000, p. 17)

Simply creating the time and space for coaching may be a writing teacher’s greatest challenge. Yet when we look at the achievement difference coaching makes, we must conclude that coaching is the most important aspect of teaching writing.

What would you see in an instructional writing program that emphasized coaching? First, the professional development component would include instruction and practice in coaching young writers. Second, the number of major writing projects would be sufficiently limited to allow for multiple coaching sessions as the student completes each project. Third, clearly defined assessment standards would provide unambiguous direction for determining a student’s strengths and for directing the student in improving the writing.

Behind every developing writer, there needs to be a caring coach.

Up Next: Teachers as "Critics" and Successful Writing Instructors. That posting will be the final one in this series on writing instruction. Postings with insights from the recent Neuroleadership Summit will follow.

References
Houston, G. (2004). How writing works: Imposing organizational structure within the writing process. Boston: Allyn & Bacon.
Lukeman, N. (2000). The first five pages: A writer's guide to staying out of the rejection pile. New York: Simon & Schuster.
Marzano, R. J. (2003). What works in schools: Translating research into action. Alexandria, VA: Association for Supervision and Curriculum Development.
Willis, J. (2006). Research-based strategies to ignite student learning. Alexandria, VA: Association for Supervision and Curriculum Development.

Transforming Substance into Significance, Part 8: Integration—Connecting Revision Elements

Revising, says writer and editor Susan Bell (2007), is “a conversation”—an interaction between the writer and text that generates waves of improvement in the text (p. 6). The writer approaches the draft as a critical reader and “converses” with what was previously written. The “conversation” initiates improvements in significant issues, such as the writing going astray, and text-level improvements that strengthen the writing, such as a change in word choice. The writer does not engage in self-pity or self-condemnation for these issues, but attacks the draft, determined to give his voice the best possible expression.

But what does the writer look for during revision? Author and writing instructor Gloria Houston (2004) describes the components of a written piece as points within a continuum (p. 10).


Macro-level elements address the work’s conceptual and structural elements, such as structure,clarity, and tone. Micro-level elements address specifics that strengthen or weaken the work, such as using the most immediate verb tense, editing modifiers, and avoiding There and It as sentence starters. Macro-level revisions strengthen the writing’s effectiveness. They address the question, “Do the ideas and their presentation communicate effectively?” Micro-level elements are specifics—details that compose larger units. They address the question, “Can the specifics be improved to strengthen communication?”

Complete instruction connects macro- and micro-level revision elements. Students learn to consider the influence of every choice a writer makes on other aspects of the writing (e.g., If I use this specific word, will my clarity be affected positively or negatively?). Students learn to “converse” with their writing multiple times to sharpen their revisions for effective and powerful writing.

Up next: Teachers as Writers

References
Bell, S. (2007). The artful edit: On the practice of editing yourself. New York: W. W. Norton & Co.
Houston, G. (2004). How writing works: Imposing organizational structure within the writing process. Boston: Allyn & Bacon.

Transforming Substance into Significance, Part 7: Integration—Connecting Mechanics to Writing

Researchers describe our current writing instruction as being stuck in the eighteenth century with little real relationship to actual writing. A recent study found that students spent only about 15% of their time in school writing, and of that 15%, two-thirds was merely copying, word-for-word, in worktexts
(NWP, p. 6). In many classrooms, students fill time completing worktext exercises, usually identifying parts of speech with underlining, circling, or diagramming of preprinted sentences; correcting capitalization and punctuation in preprinted sentences; or identifying the correct word form (e.g., have or has?) in preprinted sentences.

Despite all this busyness, research indicates that almost no, if any, relationship exists between mechanics instruction and writing achievement. You could train world-champion sentence diagrammers and never produce a student with exemplary writing skills. According to research findings, the relationship just does not exist.

There may be a simple reason for this lack of relationship. Anything taught in isolation—that is, apart from the context in which it has influence—PREVENTS transfer. Yes, actually PREVENTS the beneficial use of knowledge. Why? Because students become habituated to only using the knowledge or skills within the contexts in which they were learned.

Connecting Mechanics to Writing
All of this does not mean we should avoid teaching mechanics, but it does implicate our current practices. If we are truly committed to improving students’ communication abilities, we cannot continue to teach mechanics in isolation. We must combine elements to provide complete instruction for constructing lasting learning.

Mechanics should be taught from the understanding that their purpose is to help the writer communicate more clearly with the reader. Author and writing teacher Gloria Houston (2004) describes mechanics as “an act of courtesy to the reader on the part of the writer” (p. 20). Keeping this perspective can help us give mechanics the attention they deserve without overemphasizing their importance. Think of it this way: you have a child who you want to learn to express gratitude when they’re given a gift. You mention to the child that it’s good to say “Thank you” in such a context. The next time they’re given something, you might prompt them with, “What do you say?” But you don’t take hours and hours of time drilling the response or abandon child when they forget. You instruct efficiently, prompt as needed, and point out the times when the child expresses gratitude without prompting.

Mechanics should be taught as a means of thinking—a way of helping students make their writing more “meaningful, well-constructed,” and “information bearing” (Rothstein, Rothstein, & Lauber, 2007, p. 72). Instruction and practice need to progress beyond the recall and identification levels to multiple and diverse uses within widened contexts.

Mechanics should be taught as prerequisites to learning actual writing practices, such as revising; instruction should move from teaching the prerequisites into teaching associated writing practices. For example, when teaching adverbs, students generally learn to identify the modifiers and circle them in preprinted text or place them correctly when diagramming a sentence. If any writing is included, teachers often ask students to write a paragraph or story using as many adverbs as possible. This is the OPPOSITE of good writing practice! Students need to know how to identify adverbs so they can ELIMINATE them from their writing: “Inspect adverbs carefully and always be suspicious. What are those little buggers up to? Are they trying to cover up for a lazy verb? Most adverbs are adjectives with ‘ly’ tacked on the end, and the majority of them should be shoveled into a truck and hauled off to the junkyard” (Provost, 1985, p. 76-77). Good writing uses strong verbs and limits adverbs. Students need to identify adverbs in order to revise their writing by strengthening verbs and eliminating adverbs. To teach students to do such revising, they must be able to identify adverbs, but they must also be able to consider the adverb’s role in the sentence, evaluate its necessity, and make decisions that result in improved writing. Students gain such skill by writing themselves AND engaging in multiple revisions of that writing. Just circling adverbs on a worksheet without the connection to revising writing PREVENTS the transfer of identifying adverbs to actually improving writing. Complete instruction connects elements of grammar with actual writing practices.

Up next: Connecting Revision Elements

References
Houston, G. (2004). How writing works: Imposing organizational structure within the writing process. Boston: Allyn & Bacon.
National Writing Project & Nagin, C. (2003). Because writing matters: Improving student writing in our schools. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass.
Provost, G. (1985). 100 ways to improve your writing. New York: New American Library.
Rothstein, A., Rothstein, E. & Lauber, G. (2007). Writing as learning. A content-based approach. Thousand Oaks, CA: Corwin Press.

Stepping onto the Soapbox: Honest Grading

Many readers have heard me harp on this issue during professional development events: grades that reflect anything other than the actual achievement of the student are a lie. Dishonesty should play no role in teaching. If meeting the objective is an A, then a school must declare a B to be a failing grade. Failing to meet the objective is failing (not a B!), and merely meeting the objective earns a C. A grade higher than that should represent achievement surpassing the objective. This issue of grading dishonesty extends beyond the elementary and secondary levels. Read this article, and then commit to full integrity in assessment and grading.

Okay, off the soapbox! The series on writing instruction will continue in the next posting.

Transforming Substance into Significance, Part 6: Authenticity—Writing to Learn

Consider the following findings from research:

Author and teacher Gloria Houston found that students who wrote at the conclusion of every class regardless of the discipline (i.e., they wrote at the end of math class, science class, social studies class…) made greater achievement than their non-writing peers. Houston (2004) reports: “At the end of the project,…every teacher indicated that journals were one of the most useful tools they had in helping their students learn…students who had been in the project for three years made remarkable gains on standardized tests. Aside from the test score gains, teachers believed that their students had not only learned how to be good test takers, they had learned how to be good learners” (p. 214-217).

Similar research reaches a similar conclusion: writing increases student achievement. Students who were engaged in writing in all classes during a school year gained three benefits over their peers who were not so engaged. First, they had final exam scores averaging seven points higher than their peers. Second, not a single one of these students earned grades of D or lower; there were no failing students in the writing group. Third, the writing students demonstrated more positive attitudes toward learning. Researcher John Franklin (2003) suggests writing as a “key to improving student learning” (p. 5).

Writing is a means of learning. “With every sentence you write, you have learned something,” claims Ueland (1987). “It has done you good. It has stretched your understanding” (p. 15-16). Writing experts refer to this aspect of writing as “knowledge transforming”—“constructing ideas and images through writing” (Fearn & Farnan, 2001, p. 183). In writing, “information promotes curiosity or speculation,” suggest Fearn and Farnan, “and the writer uses the information and the curiosity to construct knowledge not originally accumulated” (p. 183-184).

When students write, they deepen their learning and increase their achievement. An authentic instructional writing program recognizes the benefits or writing to learn and provides the training and resources necessary for every teacher in every discipline to engage students in writing.

Up next: successful instruction features several integrated elements.

References
Fearn, L. & Farnan, N. (2001). Interactions: Teaching writing and the language arts. Boston: Houghton Mifflin.

Franklin, J. (2003, Summer). Breaking the barriers: How writing across the curriculum programs help students and teachers. Curriculum Update, 4-5.

Houston, G. (2004). How writing works: Imposing organizational structure within the writing process. Boston: Allyn & Bacon.

Ueland, B. (1987). If you want to write: A book about art, independence and spirit. St. Paul, MN: Graywolf Press.

Transforming Substance into Significance, Part 5: Authenticity—Writing Process

Many educators answer "The Writing Process!" when asked about how to teach writing. For many years, educators believed that if they just pushed students through five (or six, or seven…) prescribed steps, writing abilities would naturally develop: If we could just get students to brainstorm, and then draft, and then…Unfortunately, the writing process, as it’s typically presented and explained, lacks the content and skill knowledge students need to write well.

Let’s explore two steps in the writing process, brainstorming and revising. Brainstorming typically involves students thinking about what they might write. Sometimes, if the student is preparing to write expository text, this first step may involve some research. Some teachers will even have students develop graphic organizers in this “prewriting” step. While each of these activities may play a role in writing’s earliest stage, they fail to provide the direction a young writer needs.

Why? One reason: thinking. If a writer’s thinking is disorganized, the writing will be disorganized. "Clear thinking makes for clear writing," claims editor and author Susan Bell (2007, p. 111), and editor Jack Hart (2006) concurs: "Writing is, in one sense, organized thinking" (p. 43). Thinking, organizing concepts into logical structures, is a precursor to good writing.

An authentic instructional program illustrates the relationship between thinking and writing, in part, by how it engages students in writing’s earliest phases. Some questions to consider when reviewing a program include:

• Does the program emphasize research as a pre-drafting process—even for most works of fiction?
• Does the program engage students in exploring and discovering connections between concepts.
• Does the program aid students in the organization of those connections?
• Does the program encourage the writer to identify a slant for expository writing?
• Does the student propose central questions prior to drafting expository writing?

Let’s shift attention to a later phase: revising.

Some educators like the term revising, some like editing, and some like proofreading (though each of these really represent different foci). By revising, I’m referring to the process of improving writing at both large (e.g., clarity) and small (e.g., using active verbs) scales. But what should students look for in reviewing a draft? Should they read it backwards to check for spelling and declare it finished if no errors are evident? Should students read the draft aloud to hear how their writing sounds?

Revising requires multiple reviews of a draft because improving writing requires attention to a plethora of elements. Are the verbs active wherever they can be? Are the antecedents clear? Do the sentences contain too many prepositional phrases? Are the modifiers necessary? Does each paragraph have a consistent focus? Does the writing “show” rather than “tell” wherever possible? Revising brings waves of improvement to writing, but to be successful, young writers need overt direction for revising their writing. Does the writing program emphasize revision? Does it teach students how to revise by having them practice on prepared writing samples? Does it provide tools for students to use in revising their writing?

The Writing Process, while seemingly well-known in a general sense, contains steps featuring a myriad of supporting skills. Without mastering the supporting skills, students will not be able to use the writing process to produce quality writing. An authentic writing program provides detailed instruction and training in each phase of writing, from structuring thinking before drafting to generating waves of improvement before publishing.

References
Bell, S. (2007). The artful edit: On the practice of editing yourself. New York: W. W. Norton & Co.
Hart, J. (2006). A writer’s coach: An editor’s guide to words that work. New York: Pantheon Books.

Transforming Substance into Significance, Part 4: Authenticity—Genre Variety

Knowing how to write in a variety of genres is like having a fully-loaded toolbox. It provides effective means for addressing diverse circumstances. An authentic instructional writing program educates and engages students in writing from several genres and their related subgenres.

Genre variety exposes students to effective writing techniques. For example, analyzing an editorial may reveal an author’s use of facts, logic, and conclusions to argue an issue. In contrast, analyzing a narrative may reveal an author’s use of similes and allusions to connect to known concepts. Noting and practicing such techniques can improve writing.

Knowledge of genres influences reading abilities and improves learning. As students understand a genre’s characteristics and techniques, they improve their abilities to comprehend writing within that genre. Studying the writing reveals how the genre “works”; knowing how the genre “works” increases comprehension of writing within it. Increased comprehension aids learning in all academic areas.

Knowledge of genres also develops flexibility. Genre flexibility enables an individual to use writing effectively in diverse circumstances. For example, knowing how to write a formal letter that includes persuasive arguments can empower communication with local and national leaders. Relatedly, knowing how to write a short story can enable an individual to write fiction for entertaining others or to use illustrative anecdotes within expository text.

An authentic instructional writing program—one that actually teaches students to write well—equips students to write beyond the traditional fiction-nonfiction genre dichotomy. Major genres should correlate with reasons for writing. We write to communicate (genre: communicative). We write to inform and explain (genre: expository). We write to celebrate influences on our lives (genre: narrative). We write to entertain (genre: story). Each of these reasons comprises more focused reasons for writing. For example, expository writing informs and explains, but it does so through analysis, biography, comparison, or one of several other subgenres. Works of expository writing often combine such subgenres. Students need to master each subgenre and be able to combine them for effective communication.

Genre variety matters, and the genres composing that variety matter. Does the instructional program equip students to write in several different genres? Do those genres and their related subgenres represent reasons to write? Do the subgenres build in such a way that students can combine them for effective communication? An authentic instructional writing program equips students to address diverse demands by developing writing capacity in a wide variety of genres; an authentic instructional writing program fills a student’s writing toolbox.

Transforming Substance into Significance, Part 3: Authenticity—Reasons for Writing Instruction

Authentic writing programs recognize valid reasons for instruction. Obviously, students need to learn to write because life often requires written communication—a tendency expanding due to technology. But learning to write well influences a student’s academic abilities and quality of life.

First, by learning to write well, a student gains a means of expressing his perspectives. We teach individuals, each with a voice worthy of being heard. Writer Brenda Ueland (1987) challenges teachers, stating, “The only good teachers for you are those friends who love you, who think you are interesting, or very important, or wonderfully funny; whose attitude is: ‘Tell me more. Tell me all you can. I want to understand more about everything you feel and know and all the changes inside and out of you. Let more come out’” (p. 8). Students equipped with good writing capacity can express their created individuality—their interests, their passions, and their humor.

Writing also serves as a means of learning. Writing experts refer to this aspect of writing as “knowledge transforming,” a “constructing ideas and images through writing” (Fearn & Farnan, 2001, p. 183). In writing, “information promotes curiosity or speculation, and the writer uses the information and the curiosity to construct knowledge not originally accumulated” (p. 183-184). Writing promotes elaboration, the forging of conceptual connections that construct understanding. Writing creates an intersection of learner, learning, and expression. This merging transforms distinct data to integrated understanding.

Third, writing capacity influences how a student views himself. If a student believes his thoughts and opinions matter AND he possesses the means to communicate those thoughts and opinions, he is more likely to become a PARTICIPANT in democracy—someone with the means to change his standing rather than view himself as a victim of forces over which he has no control.

Writing develops important cognitive functions such as working memory. “Few activities are as cognitively demanding as writing” (Dingfelder, 2006). In fact, different writing phases engage different elements of working memory. While drafting obviously engages verbal working memory, planning a piece of writing actually engages spatial working memory. Writers “represent their ideas visually when trying to structure their essays,” notes neuropsychologist David Galbraith (Dingfelder, 2006). Spatial working memory empowers planning, verbal working memory empowers drafting, and both empower revision as writers evaluate and improve both idea-level structure and word-level details. Improving working memory abilities influences fluid intelligence, a group of abilities “considered one of the most important factors in learning” and “critical for wide variety of cognitive tasks” (Jaeggi, Buschkuehl, Jonides, & Perrig, 2008). Teaching students to write may actually equip them for better overall learning.

Writing develops thinking abilities and increases student achievement. In one study, students who were engaged in writing in all classes during a school year had final exam scores averaging seven points higher than their peers, did not earn any report card grades of D or lower (i.e., there were no failing students in the writing group), and demonstrated more positive attitudes toward learning. Researcher John Franklin (2003) suggests writing as a “key to improving student learning” (p. 5).

Finally, writing provides insight on student learning. As teachers, we gain insight into student understanding through a student’s writing and can make the instructional adjustments—either greater challenge or additional instruction—that optimize student learning.

A program’s philosophical statement addresses its instructional rationale, and an authentic instructional writing program recognizes valid reasons for teaching students to write well. These reasons extend beyond the obvious ability to use writing to respond to circumstances. They address a student’s quality of learning and life. Without such an understanding of writing instruction’s potential contribution to a student’s education, a writing program may lack the instructional emphasis that will optimize student achievement.

Up next: the importance of genre variety

References
Dingfelder, S. (2006). Writing exercises all aspects of working memory. Monitor on Psychology 37 (7). 19.
Franklin, J. (2003, Summer). Breaking the barriers: How writing across the curriculum programs help students and teachers. Curriculum Update, 4-5.
Fearn, L. & Farnan, N. (2001). Interactions: Teaching writing and the language arts. Boston: Houghton Mifflin.
Jaeggi, S. M., Buschkuehl, M., Jonides, J., & Perrig, W. J. (2008). Improving fluid intelligence with training on working memory. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences 105 (39).
Ueland, B. (1987). If you want to write: A book about art, independence and spirit. St. Paul, MN: Graywolf Press.

Transforming Substance Into Significance, Part 2: Authenticity

Effective instructional writing programs possess authenticity; they actually teach students how to write well. This may seem like an obvious characteristic, one that every program possesses, but experts describe our current instructional writing programs as having little relationship to actual writing. Students fill instructional time completing exercises, usually identifying parts of speech in preprinted sentences, correcting capitalization and punctuation in preprinted sentences, or identifying the correct word form (e.g., have or has?) in preprinted sentences. Despite all this busyness, research indicates that almost no, if any, relationship exists between such practice and actual writing achievement. With such programs, you could train world-champion sentence diagrammers but never produce a student with exemplary writing skills. The programs lack authenticity because they fail to actually teach writing.

To actually teach writing, an instructional program must contain and teach quality writing’s characteristics. This emphasis can be assessed, in part, by examining the program’s research-base. What sources and experts did the developers consult in constructing the program? Note an important distinction: by research-base I do not mean evidence that the program improved standardized test scores. Such evidence can be informative, but the program is unlikely to produce writers if actual writing experts were not consulted in the program’s development. Again, an important clarification is needed: by writing experts, I mean individuals who are professional writers, or better yet, editors.

Why does this matter? Wouldn’t individuals with expertise in teaching language arts provide the necessary research-base? No. Instructional experts definitely play a critical role in a program’s development, but if they have never written or edited for publication—something beyond an article here and there—they may lack the knowledge needed to establish the necessary content—the concepts and skills that will develop student writing capacity. Let me illustrate by contrasting how an educational expert and professional writers/editors view writing. I own a textbook used widely in college level courses that train education majors in how to teach the language arts. In the opening chapter, a well-known educator argues that students learn to write by writing. She continues this argument, advocating daily journal writing and weekly story writing for elementary students. For her, frequent writing means engaging students in writing many first drafts with little or no follow-up. Teachers who follow her advice and apply her methods will have students generate large amounts of drafting but little actual writing.

In contrast, when professional editors write about writing, they typically devote one chapter to drafting and nine or more chapters to revising. Writing involves careful crafting of the initial draft. Real writing only begins with drafting, but students in many classrooms spend 90% of the instructional time devoted to writing doing 10% of writing’s actual work! Why? Because the instructional program lacks authenticity; it fails to teach students how to successfully revise their first drafts—it fails to teach students to transform substance into significance.

The research-base matters! Whom did the program’s authors consult to establish the program’s content? If they failed to include insights from professional writers and editors in their initial research, the program likely lacks authenticity. It likely teaches something other than writing.

Coming next: authenticity evidenced in genre variety and purposes for writing

Transforming Substance Into Significance (Part 1)

I apologize for the long pause between postings.

I'm beginning a series of postings addressing writing instruction. I know this is a slight departure from the usual emphasis on neurocognitive research, and I will return to that emphasis, but I'm excited about the potential we have to improve student writing achievement. What follows is the introduction to the series which will be continued in several future postings.

Comments & questions are invited!


Transforming Substance Into Significance 1

For years, writing instruction received less emphasis than more easily measured disciplines like reading and mathematics. Standardized testing tended to only assess writing mechanics such as punctuation and grammar—easily measured knowledge (e.g., In which of the following sentences is a comma used correctly?). Since what is tested tends to get taught, actual writing instruction beyond grammar and mechanics received little if any attention. As a result, students learned where to use quotation marks and apostrophes but lacked authentic writing capacity.

Unfortunately, these poor instructional practices continue in many classrooms. Researchers describe our current writing instruction as being stuck in the eighteenth century with little real relationship to actual writing. In other words, we are teaching something other than writing while we claim to be teaching writing. Research also indicates that almost no, if any, relationship exists between mechanics instruction and writing achievement. You could train world-champion sentence diagrammers and never produce a student with exemplary writing skills. The relationship just does not exist.

That is not to say that understanding writing’s mechanics does not have a place in writing instruction. It does, but our narrow focus on it fails to produce proficient writers—even if language scores on standardized tests are high. In fact, research suggests that standardized test scores based on knowledge of writing’s mechanics indicate nothing about actual writing capacity.

What, then, characterizes successful writing instruction? Three traits characterize successful writing instruction: authenticity (the instruction actually teaches writing and not just supporting knowledge/skills), integration (the instruction transfers mechanics to actual writing knowledge and skills), and teacher expertise (the instruction is provided by a teacher who knows and uses quality writing practices).

These three elements are so tightly connected that a lack of any one diminishes the others. For example, authentic writing instruction has to be integrated instruction taught by a teacher who knows how writing’s mechanics (punctuation and grammar) translate into good writing practices. Effective writing instruction illustrates all three; one cannot exist without the other two. Let’s examine each one separately and then explore their interactions within effective instruction.

You Must See This!

If you missed the segment "Of Mice and Memory" on PBS's Nova, take a few minutes to view it here. It's a fascinating report, and one that will make you want to keep (or get) moving!

Thanks, Staci, for alerting me to this!

New Thinking About Memory

For several years, researchers presented memory types as being semantic or episodic. (Other memory types also exist—e.g., muscle memory.) Semantic memories hold factual content, such as Albany is the capital of New York. Episodic memories may also hold factual content but within a context commonly thought to be narrative in structure. For example, I can recall being a narrator for the first third of my second grade class’s dramatic presentation of Bambi. Notice how the memory includes contextualized information, actually forming a small narrative: “Once upon a time, Kevin narrated the opening portion of the play Bambi performed by his second-grade class…” Recalling that Albany is New York’s capital lacks the same potential for plot.

Dr. Robert A. Burton (2008) suggests a new view of memory types. Semantic memories remain those “that require only memorization,” but rather than episodic memories, Burton suggests perceptual memories as a better label. Perceptual memories require “decision making, logical analysis, or reasoning,” and can undergo “revisions, augmentations, and diminutions” (p. 85). Perceptual memories, in other words, require cognitive processing that exceeds memorization.

This does not negate the reality of memories stored in episodic structures. We certainly can tell stories and can even weave plot and drama into memories of common experiences. However, Burton’s suggested change recognizes that we use more than narrative to process and structure new data as we construct memories.

Constructing semantic vs. perceptual memories requires different approaches to learning. Combined with multiple rehearsals, comprehension can empower low-level learning—i.e., things “learned” by rote. For example, if I merely memorize the Gettysburg Address, my sole concern is restating the words in their correct order. I can accomplish this by identifying Lincoln’s words in their correct order, and repeating them until I easily recall and restate the entire speech.

But if I want to understand the Gettysburg Address—if I want to grasp the meaning of Lincoln’s words—so I can use my understanding in future problem solving, decision making, logical analyses, or reasoning, my mind must engage additional processes. I must construct perceptual memories. Why? Understanding taps into perceptual thought, thinking that overlays the new data with known experience and weaves the two to produce meaning. Such thinking requires more than restating and sorting details; it requires elaboration.

The Architecture of Learning™ instructional design model aids teachers in distinguishing instructional material types and in designing teaching that fosters authentic learning. Burton’s view of semantic vs. perceptual memories supports the roles of both comprehension and elaboration in learning, and the greater role one may have over the other according to the memories being formed and the material being taught.

Want to know more about Dr. Burton’s work and writing? He’ll be discussing his book On Being Certain: Believing You are Right Even When You’re Not on an upcoming episode of The Brain Science Podcast.

Burton, R. A. (2008). On being certain: Believing you are right even when you’re not. New York: St. Martin’s Press.

Reflections on an Incredible Week!

Despite fire alarms and building evacuations, I enjoyed and learned much from the participants in the inaugural Writer’s Stylus™ training. (And I’m sure those evacuations will make great writing material!) About twenty educators from various Philadelphia- and New York City-area schools made this week unforgettable. Together, we explored visioning’s role in the writing process, revision’s “waves of improvement,” the coaching cycle and its upward influence on student achievement, the role of instruction and mechanics in writing development, and integration of multiple methods to optimize student writing growth.

We also examined interesting brain- and learning-related aspects of writing, such as:

• The brain constructs understanding by recognizing emerging relationships or patterns. Writing is meaning making in that it promotes the thinking necessary for a writer to understand new experiences or concepts, and when the writing is well constructed, it promotes similar thinking by the reader.
  
  
• Writing develops important cognitive functions such as working memory. “Few activities are as cognitively demanding as writing” (Dingfelder, 2006). In fact, different writing phases engage different elements of working memory. While drafting obviously engages verbal working memory, planning a piece of writing actually engages spatial working memory. Writers “represent their ideas visually when trying to structure their essays,” notes neuropsychologist David Galbraith (Dingfelder, 2006). Spatial working memory empowers planning, verbal working memory empowers drafting, and both empower revision as writers evaluate and improve both idea-level structure and word-level details. Improving working memory abilities influences fluid intelligence, capacities “critical for wide variety of cognitive tasks” and “considered one of the most important factors in learning” (Jaeggi, Buschkuehl, Jonides, & Perrig, 2008). Teaching students to write may not only give them a means of constructing understanding, but may actually equip them for better or more efficient learning in multiple areas. Writing engages “more areas of the brain and involves them more intensely than any activity thus far investigated” (Houston, 2004, p. 8).
  
  
• Increasing instructive feedback, such as coaching, increases learning. Marzano (2003) found that students who had teachers that consistently provided timely and specific feedback scored anywhere from 21 to 41 percentage points higher on standardized tests than students who had teachers that failed to provide such feedback. Neurologist and classroom teacher Judy Willis (2006) offers a likely explanation for this dramatic impact: “One of the most successful strategies for engaging students’ brains in their lessons comes from personal connection and accountability” (p. 82). Through frequent coaching, teachers connect with individual students, hold them accountable, provide an opportunity for student questioning, and optimize learning and achievement.
  
  
• Rather than making journals a collection of personal thoughts and feelings (which creates problems for the teacher), journals should be viewed and used as learning tools, in which students write “about concepts or information” they are learning and “the activities in which they are involved in any class” (p. 213).
  Houston (2004) explains the results of such an approach:
  

  …we found that journaling was one of the activities that had the greatest impact on student learning and on test scores…Class-ending journal entries were…written during the final ten minutes of every class. We found that to make this entry productive, the full ten minutes were needed, but that those minutes were valuable learning time…At the end of the project,…every teacher indicated that journals were one of the most useful tools they had in helping their students learn…students who had been in the project for three years made remarkable gains on standardized tests. Aside from the test score gains, teachers believed that their students had not only learned how to be good test takers, they had learned how to be good learners (p. 214-217).

If you missed this exciting event, we are identifying dates and locations for future Writer’s Stylus™ training. Contact Clerestory Learning to receive details via email as they develop. If your school or organization is interested in hosting either Architecture of Learning™ or Writer’s Stylus™ training, contact Clerestory Learning for details.

Dingfelder, S. (2006). Writing exercises all aspects of working memory. Monitor on Psychology 37(7).19.

Houston, G. (2004). How writing works: Imposing organizational structure within the writing process. Boston: Allyn & Bacon.

Jaeggi, S. M., Buschkuehl, M., Jonides, J., & Perrig, W. J. (2008). Improving Fluid Intelligence With Training on Working Memory. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the United States of America, 105(19), 6829-6833.

Marzano, R. J. (2003). What works in schools: Translating research into action. Alexandria, VA: Association for Supervision and Curriculum Development.

Willis, J. D. (2006). Research-based strategies to ignite student learning: insights from a neurologist and classroom teacher. Alexandria, VA: Association for Supervision and Curriculum Development.

Working Memory & Exercise

“Working memory is the gateway to authentic learning,” I wrote earlier this year. Without working memory activation, data will not proceed past sensory registration, preventing consolidation or construction of long-term memory. “Working memory is now known to be a busy, temporary workspace,” explains John Medina (2008), “a desktop the brain uses to process newly acquired information” (p. 124). And the deeper, more elaborate and personal that processing is, the greater the likelihood of data reaching long-term memory.

Recently, researchers at the University of Michigan seem to have discovered a means of improving working memory capacity. Subjects played a simple, Concentration-like card game and then completed tasks requiring fluid intelligence. Fluid intelligence is a cognitive ability that enables reasoning and problem-solving, especially when tasks do not correspond to previous experience. It plays critical roles in learning.

For the first time, this research team demonstrated not only that working memory capacity can be increased, but that it can also be transferred. And, as the subjects experienced more training, their working memory capacity, and thus their fluid intelligence abilities, increased. Additional training increased achievement (Jaeggi, Buschkuehl, Jonides, & Perrig, 2008).

This represents important brain-related research for educators! If working memory capacity can be increased, our approaches to working with all learners, but especially struggling learners, may have powerful new options. Increasing working memory capacity can improve learning abilities and many school-related tasks, such as reading comprehension.

Combine this with the attention exercise is getting, and we may be on the verge of a new combination of activities that dramatically influence learning and brain functioning. In addition to Ratey’s recent book, John Medina (2008) discusses exercise’s impact on brain plasticity. “Physical activity,” claims Medina, “is cognitive candy” (p. 22). In addition to increasing blood flow to hippocampal regions of the brain, which are critical for memory formation, exercise increases Brain Derived Neurotrophic Factor, which keeps neurons healthy and more likely to form connections and encourages the formation of new neurons. Exercise can literally grow the brain!

What does this mean for educators? First, with new research suggesting working memory can be improved, methods for working with all learners should incorporate proven methods. We are not only teaching so students learn, we are teaching them how to learn. By improving their working memory abilities, we can increase their learning in all areas. Second, we can no longer ignore the influence of exercise. We MUST begin to take exercise seriously as a learning tool. However, allow me to clarify this: by exercise, I mean students actually engaging in regular (i.e., daily!) cardiovascular activity. Playing a softball game in gym class won’t cut it, and neither will pocket video games allowed in the playground. We need to be teaching students exercise habits that can last a lifetime.

Think of it—new neurons ready for use, current neurons ready to connect, and working memories operating optimally. What a learning environment we could create inside our students’ heads!

Now, where are my running shoes and that deck of Concentration cards?!?

Before concluding, I want to suggest a couple of resources. If you read only one teaching-learning related book this summer, make it John Medina’s Brain Rules: 12 Principles for Surviving and Thriving at Work, Home, and School. (Order a copy here.) It’s easy to read and loaded with useful information. Dr. Ginger Campbell interviewed Medina on the Brain Science Podcast (download Episode 37). (The show notes for this interview are here.) The book is outstanding, and the interview is excellent. While at the Brain Science Podcast site, check out Episode 38, which features an interview with Jeff Hawkins, the author of On Intelligence. There's a great discussion of pattern recognition that will be of interest to readers with an interest in the Architecture of Learning. Enjoy!

Medina, J. (2008). Brain rules: 12 principles for surviving and thriving at work, home, and school. Seattle: Pear Press.

Writin' & Readin'

“This doesn’t help,” I thought, closing yet another book that claimed it could improve my writing instruction. So many books I read advocated the “writing process” as the only instructional method needed as long as students wrote frequently. “Have them keep a daily journal,” these books suggested—but what would I say to the student who had “nothing to write about?” “Have them share their writing with peers,” suggested others—but how would that improve their writing? And what should I direct them to say to each other? “Diagramming is the gateway to writing excellence,” still others claimed; can you imagine Charles Dickens diagramming all the sentences in A Christmas Carol before publication? I just couldn’t grasp exactly what I should do to develop student writing capacity.

So, I changed direction and began to research what actual writers and editors said about writing. What I discovered dramatically changed my thinking about teaching writing. More than two years later, I am pleased to introduce The Writer’s Stylus: Transforming Substance into Significance, a new professional development program devoted to writing instruction.

This program’s inaugural training event takes place in Philadelphia, PA, June 23-28th. Additional information is available via email through Clerestory Learning's contact form.

Writing is a transformational process, so the training is designed to take you through that process, discovering its waves of progress, gaining insight for personal writing growth, ultimately to develop tomorrow’s authors.

I also want to make you aware of two reading-related and highly informative podcasts. Maryanne Wolf, author of Proust and the Squid, appears on the Brain Science Podcast for a fascinating interview. Find out why she loves Frog and Toad books, sees reading as essential to sustaining culture, and why she’s concerned about technology’s impacts on reading and thinking abilities. If you haven’t read Wolf’s book, listen first to Dr. Ginger Campbell’s excellent summary and discussion of its content. Go to the Brain Science Podcast website and download Episodes 24 and 29. The show notes are also available: Episode 24, Episode 29. While at the website, I highly recommend you subscribe to the podcast. Subscription is free! Dr. Campbell is an excellent interviewer, and I always find something related to teaching/learning in every episode. You can also subscribe to the podcast via iTunes—simply search for “Brain Science Podcast with Dr. Ginger Campbell.” Past episodes can also be downloaded at iTunes.

In my next posting, which I hope to make soon, I’ll be discussing some recent research on working memory that should influence our work with struggling learners, especially when combined with the findings on exercise and brain plasticity. I’ll be discussing how research findings from these two areas may combine to give us greater effectiveness with all learners but especially with students who struggle.

Patterns & Memory and SPARK Podcasts

Dr. Ginger Campbell, the host and creator of The Brain Science Podcast, presents an excellent discussion of Elkhonon Goldberg's The Wisdom Paradox (click Listen to Older Episodes). Readers with an interest in the Architecture of Learning instructional design model will recognize the influence of this important work. I highly recommend this episode! The show notes for this episode can be found here.

I plan to post some insights from John Ratey's SPARK: The Revolutionary New Science of Exercise and the Brain (click Listen to Older Episodes) in a future post. You can hear Dr. Campbell's interview with Dr. Ratey in another episode of The Brain Science Podcast. Show notes for this episode can be found here.

Click the links above to be taken directly to the website where these can be downloaded. Both are interesting and loaded with information. You can also find these episodes and subscribe to the Brain Science Podcast at iTunes. Subscription is FREE! Enjoy!

Writing Achievement? Part 2

In the previous posting, I questioned the “encouraging” student writing achievement on the latest National Assessment of Educational Progress—aka, the nation’s report card. With only about ⅓ of eighth grade students and about ¼ of high school seniors achieving proficiency, I’m puzzled by the seemingly excited results. Yes, progress is progress, but using these results to show that “the death of writing has been greatly exaggerated,” as the vice chairwoman of board overseeing the testing proclaimed (Dillon, 2008), seems akin to saying that because the tree is only ¾ dead it is not exaggerating to call it healthy.

However, I also questioned what the test actually tests and what we actually teach. Let’s begin with the test, as it mirrors the main error I see in much of our instruction.

Most achievement tests, like the NAEP, give students a prompt—usually narrative, informative, or persuasive—and a confined period, often 20-30 minutes, in which to “write.” The results are then assessed by an “expert” or a panel who determines an achievement level.

Is this an authentic assessment of writing? When professional writers and editors discuss writing, they emphasize revising as THE key to quality writing. Just this morning, I heard an author interviewed on NPR who said writing was a matter of getting a voice in your head and major revision. In A Writer’s Coach, editor Jack Hart spends about 15% of the book discussing matters of process and drafting and the rest of the book explaining all the details that need attention during multiple revisions.

This reality-based perspective reveals the weakness of the NAEP’s and our instruction’s approach to writing. We engage students in drafting and evaluate the results as if they were writing. Often, our approach lacks even sound pre-writing practices, such as developing a vision for what will be written. (And even this step, visioning, requires multiple actions to ensure the draft heads in the right direction.) In testing situations, the time allocated does not allow for much, if any, prewriting thought.

When I earned my undergraduate degrees, we were told that it was important for students to be writing frequently (i.e., daily) and to be producing vast amounts of written work, which we tended to proudly display—the more student writing on display, the better we must be teaching students to write. Right?

No, we were teaching students that writing meant creating a draft and calling it completed. Imagine you hired a builder to construct a new home, and when you arrived at the site several months later you found a pile of building materials. You question the builder who says, “But all the raw materials are here!” Having students draft frequently but rarely complete significant revisions engages students in piling up writing’s raw materials. A home will not emerge from the pile, and neither will authentic writing spring from just the draft.

I think one reason we take this approach is a lack of knowledge about revising writing. I know that in my case, even with a degree in English, I really did not understand revision processes until recently. I would tell students to revise their writing without any additional guidance or instruction. As a result, revising became little more than proofing, checking mostly for spelling errors.

So, it seems we have two “issues” to face. First, our current assessments of student writing do not actually measure writing as professionals working in the field describe it. Second, we need to engage students in significantly more revising of writing and provide the instruction necessary to equip students to engage in revision. As author and editor Susan Bell says, “The debate continues on whether you can teach someone to write; I know, unequivocally, that you can teach someone to edit” (p. 1). We need to teach students to edit, to revise and improve their drafts to produce authentic writing.

The NAEP likely reveals something about student achievement, but viewing it as an assessment of authentic writing seems off target. The best assessment of student writing capacity may be the teacher who instructs and observes at every stage of the process, noting the prewriting activity and, especially, the revision abilities students apply. No formalized test with confined, prompted drafting will ever produce writing samples that reveal authentic writing ability. For such assessment, we need teachers with deep understandings of the writing process and the collection of actions present in each step, and learning activities that emphasize revision, revision, revision. Currently, our students draft too much, and actually write too little.

I welcome your insights! Feel free to send me an email or, better yet, post a comment!

Bell, S. (2007). The artful edit: On the practice of editing yourself. New York: W. W. Norton.

Dillon, S. (2008). In test, few students are proficient writers. The New York Times, accessed April 3, 2008 via http://www.nytimes.com.

Writing Achievement? Part 1

The New York Times reported last week that despite the fact that about two-thirds of America’s eight grade students and about three-fourths of high school seniors failed to reach proficient writing levels on the National Assessment of Educational Progress, the federal government is “encouraged by the results” (Dillon, 2008). You read that correctly. With a minority of our students achieving proficiency in writing, the federal government finds cause for celebration.

The Fed’s optimism rests in the contrast of the results with other indicators of student achievement. For some time, the general conclusion has been that student writing capacity is in free-fall. However, the NAEP results show “modest increases in the writing skills of low-performing students” (Dillon, 2008). This is hailed as success, even though the performance of high-performing students remain unchanged.

What’s going on here? Are we so desperate for good news that even a failure to achieve proficiency is hailed as a victory? Certainly the gains achieved by low-performing students are moving in the right direction, but in four years since the last NAEP, those gains are merely modest while other scores remained unaffected.

And the celebrated “gains” are highly questionable. In the same report, the Times cites a 2006 survey of college professors that suggests a large majority of college students possess “limited writing skills” (Dillon, 2008), and a 2003 study that found American companies are spending billions of dollars on remedial training for employees—some “new hires straight out of college” (Dillon, 2008).

So, we have conflicting viewpoints. We should be excited by the moderate gains on the recent NAEP, but we should be mindful of the continued challenge we face in developing student writing capacity.

To me, even the NAEP results make a stronger case for being mindful of the challenge than excited by the gains. With nearly 75% of our seniors still lacking proficiency, the challenge far outweighs a reason for celebration.

However, some fundamental questions remain. Is the NAEP measuring writing ability? If we accept that it is measuring writing ability, what does it mean for instruction? And why are our current instructional efforts yielding such poor results?

I’ll address these questions in my next posting.

Dillon, S. (2008). In test, few students are proficient writers. The New York Times, accessed April 3, 2008 via http://www.nytimes.com.

Insights from Mindfulness

In the article “Are You Working Too Hard?”, Herbert Benson (2007) describes the Yerkes-Dodson Curve, a simple graphic representation that shows how stress improves performance—to a point. Increased stress beyond that point hampers performance. Insights from this relationship led Benson and his research partner to identify a four-step method of optimizing cognitive performance. First, suggests Benson, an individual should “struggle mightily with a thorny problem” (p. 19). This period of concentrated attention provides the brain with the data it needs to continue exploring possible solutions. Second, Benson suggests the individual walk away from the problem and do “something utterly different that produces the relaxation response” (p. 19). Such activity ignites “the mental rearrangement that is the foundation for new insights, solutions, and creativity” (p. 19). Third, as the mind mulls the problem and the needed solution, patterns begin to emerge, producing insights or “breakouts” (p. 19). Finally, Benson suggests acting on the insights with confidence, allowing the breakthrough to influence not only how an individual approaches the problem but also the disposition with which the individual proceeds.

So, what happens when an individual follows such a sequence? In The Mindful Brain, Daniel J. Siegel (2007) recounts an experience he had while participating in research. He and 149 other volunteers participated in a “retreat” that required them to spend 36 hours in complete silence—not isolated, but in silence, somewhat like an extended “relaxation response.” During this period, Siegel describes his thinking and his metacognition regarding his thinking. An insight that will be of interest to those familiar with the Architecture of Learning™ Instructional Design Model involves Siegel’s “streams of consciousness.” Siegel recognized that in his silence, he could 1) attend to direct sensory experience by focusing on the data his senses picked up, 2) observe the data his senses picked up, stepping away from direct experience to consider what had been gained through the experience, 3) conceptualize, recognizing patterns emerging from the sensory data and converting the disparate data into cohesive ideas, or 4) recognize a “sense of knowing,” developing a confidence in the validity of the cohesive ideas. Interestingly, Siegel suggests it is extremely difficult, if even possible, to focus awareness on more than one of the “streams” at a time. We can experience, we can reflect on experience, or we can recognize new knowledge gained from reflection.

What, then, can we conclude from the insights these studies reveal? First, students who seem to struggle with some concept we are teaching may need a break from it. The stress of frustration may exceed the point where cognitive performance is enhanced. At that point, allowing/encouraging the student to step away from the material may enable later success. It is important to note that by “later” I am NOT suggesting the student step away until the next grade level! But a brief break from difficult material can ignite the thinking that may enable a breakthrough when the student returns to the material.

Second, from mindfulness, which I would define as focused attention (admittedly, an oversimplification), and metacognition, the brain’s basic operating processes become evident, and those mirror the core processes of Architecture of Learning™: experience, comprehension (Siegel’s observing “stream”), elaboration (Siegel’s conceptualizing “stream”), and application (Siegel’s knowing “stream,” which enables the use of knowledge). By designing instruction that engages these processes, we can teach in accordance with how the human mind functions.

Finally, both researchers identify the brain’s need for reflection. We cannot engage endlessly in direct experience and expect to construct new understandings. Understanding requires a break from sensory input so that the brain can engage in “the mental rearrangement that is the foundation for new insights, solutions, and creativity.” This reminds us that students need “downtime,” opportunities to comprehend and elaborate on newly presented material.

We continue to see validation of the Architecture of Learning™. These are exciting confirmations of our practice!

Benson, H. (2007). Are you working too hard? Harvard Business Review OnPoint (Winter, 2007).
Siegeal, D. J. (2007). The mindful brain. New York: W. W. Norton & Co.