Slice of Life Story - Reflections on the Slice of Life Challenge

Today is a great day for some reflection. For today marks the end of a journey. -A journey that commenced exactly a month ago with my involvement in the Slice of Story Challenge for March. This writing challenge was concieved and set up by Stacey Shubitz and Ruth Ayres from Two Writing Teachers and it is to these writers and educators, I am indebted.

It is said that it is the journey not the destination that is important, and there is ample evidence that is indeed true. While taking part in this challenge I have made discoveries, for part of this journey has involved exploring self. I have also been able to learn of common incidents in their real state by reading the words of fellow writers. These incidents have allowed me to contemplate and connect, despite our geographical differences. I have gained a better appreciation of the happiness that resides in the present moment. When we learn to do this we stop borrowing from the bank of future hope. I have also made discoveries, -words, phrases, ideas as well as the optimism that resides in the attitudes of my fellow citizens of the world. Involvement in this writing challenge has enabled me to give and receive feedback in regard to the words generated by my fellow participants. As writers and life long learners this psychological stroking is vital to our persistence. For me personally, one of the critical things gained from taking part in this project is the self discipline it requires to write and post a slice of life entry each and every day. Another real positive is the sense of community one obtains when feedback is received. It is the responses that make it so worthwhile. To hear of common experiences, to hear of wonder and curiosity, to hear of empathy, excitement and joy is what sustains us all.



This morning I walked to the Pacific Ocean from our Broadbeach apartment, a short walk through the adjacent parkland. Vicki and Sunni had gone before me and as I stood on the headland, they waved to me. The beach was closed to swimming because of the swell. It didn’t matter, it was refreshing anyway, just standing at the shoreline and letting the waves tumble over my feet. I took a few photos before joining my fellow beach buddies to dig holes in the wet sand- ‘We need your big hands Papa!’ Sunni informed me. It was then the words of Jimmy Buffett came floating back to me...
Feel it all with a willing heart
Every stop, there's a place to start
If you know how to play the part with feeling
I play with feeling
(Le vie Dansante)
So, it’s all about taking part, being involved, playing with feeling. No matter whether it’s a writing challenge or digging in the wet sand at the beach…

Slice of Life Story - At the Airport And Ready For Some Chillaxing

Today I flew to Brisbane for a few days of relaxation at Broadbeach on Queensland’s Gold Coast. My frequent flyer points made this flight cost free. However, it was a no frills flight and the only item they didn’t charge customers for was the air we breathed.

Broadbeach is slightly south of Surfer’s Paradise and is a destination favoured by snowbirds. It is some time since I was last here and development continues to leave its indelible mark on this coastal Mecca. This area is Australia’s Florida. The people of the Australia southern states flock here, particularly in the winter months, when the local population swells. It is currently school holiday time and children are everywhere in profuse numbers. The air here is warm and heavy. Dense cumulonimbus clouds blanket the sky and one senses rain is never far away. A sense of languidness pervades the action of people out and about on the streets. The pace is suitably slow. You feel your shoulders relaxing....
I find airports fascinating places for people watching. I wonder about their lives and their destinations. All those people gather in the one place before launching themselves in so many different directions and for a multitude of reasons. There are times when I wish I could interview them and create a documentary on destinations. I sat next to a man on the plane who seemed a little agitated. He had my favoured aisle seat. His legs never stopped moving throughout the two hour flight. He read his newspaper from front to back before starting again. When we landed and the seat belt sign was extinguished, he was out of his seat as if propelled. I was left wondering was he always like this?, or did something happen within the last twenty four hours that has created this tension within him?
Anyway for the next few days, my aim is ‘chillaxation’ -a new word I discovered in an airline advertisement this morning...

Slice of Life Story - The Creek Is Wild This Morning

It rained heavily overnight. Following successive seasons of below average rain, we now appear to be moving into a period of increased rainfall. Autumn has arrived with a series of resounding downpours. The creek below our house is running a gusher this morning. It is almost bursting its banks such is the rush of water down its course. Most of the year its maintains a low steady flow as it meanders around rocks on its way to Port Philip Bay less than a kilometre away. Ducks and wading birds such as egret occasionally drop in for a splash and a feed. Water weeds thrive in the warm shallow water along the banks during the summer months. Butterflies flitter about seeking out the butterfly bushes (Buddleia davidii) I planted near the creek's edge. .

Today the character of the creek is dramatically altered. It is ferocious and irrepressible. No wading today. The torrent races by our place along the valley of the creek with such impressive momentum. The birds seem impressed by the rain. From the trees that line the creek they sing out with raucous joy. I have been told that up to eighty species of bird have been identified living along the creek line. I can’t attest to sighting quite that many, but I do know they are out in big numbers this morning and their shrill cries astonish.
The sight of all that fresh storm water in turmoil, surging seaward has me in awe. It looks thick like brown cream as it churns past running slightly over the bank in places. Even the sight of water in such an agitated state is mesmerizing. It is hard to look away. For me the creek is always interesting, sometimes frightening and often quite beautiful. I watch in wonder.

Slice of Life Story -Here's To Your Health

I hope I am not being presumptuous by delving into the someone elses domestic issues, but I do have some experience, be it limited, with the US health system...

I recall watching a documentary in the eighties titled ‘Don’t Get Sick in America’ The film outlined the problems associated with the delivery of health services in America at that time. Its message has remained with me through the years. My six years living in the US as a legal alien taught me a few extra things about the prevailing health system. At one point I experienced its obvious limitations. I paid $1500.00 for a few rudimentary blood tests. -Tests that would have been covered by the health system had I been home in Australia. I eventually recouped my costs because I could afford additional health insurance. I was stunned when a rudimentary consultation at a cost of $200  had to be paid up front, before the doctor would agree to see me. These events reinforced my concerns about the health system of America. It presented as a system that is not inclusive of the old, the frail, the vulnerable or the poor. I have found myself following with much interest, the long and painful journey that the US Health legislation has taken through the corridors of Washington.

Living as I do in a country that has enjoyed the benefits of a universal health program since the 1970’s, I have found the debate somewhat disappointing and ill informed. The campaign waged by interest groups such as Fox News in opposition to the proposed changes, strike me, an outsider looking in as inflammatory and squarely aimed at fanning the flames of fear. Rhetoric designed to merely scare people treats them with contempt. Informed and measured debate has been conspicuous by it absence. Words such as socialist, Marxist, communist and the totally over the top 'Armageddon' have been bandied about without a proper examination of the facts.

The implementation of the Medicare system in Australia did not condemn our country into becoming a socialist basket case, let alone a Marxist totalitarian regime where the government controlled our thoughts. Pundits making such alarmists  statements clearly need to take a chill pill!

Universal health coverage has managed to work in Australia. It operates in Canada and most of Europe, but the vocal critics of health coverage in America say it can’t possibly work in America. Not too sure why this is so. I suspect it doesn’t suit the all powerful HMO lobby and the pharmaceutical companies. They would appear to have the ear of certain politicians. Lobbying and its associated money trail remains a cancer in US politics. It’s sad when elected officials use this most serious domestic issue to settle ideological grudges This sad divide is taking place at a time when premiums and other uncovered expenses are so high that the insurance many workers obtain through their employers, does not save them from financial bankruptcy in old age.
Australia’s health system is not perfect, it does however, provide a safety net for all our citizens, irrespective of their financial circumstance. Currently debate is under way to further improve the delivery of health services across the nation. It remains a work in progress.
A caring and compassionate society must work to ensure a heatlh system is in place  and that system is inclusive, not just for the well off. I applaud the efforts of those in America who have shown the courage to persist with this course of action. I wish all my American friends Good Health!

Slice of Life Story - Routines and Rituals on Saturday

My Dad was renowned as a creature of habit. He always sat in the same chair in our family lounge room and always drank his cup of tea from the same cup.-and it was always Robur tea. His daily rituals were firmly established. He did not entertain the idea of radical change, or unexpected departure from established behaviours.

Now I’m beginning to realize that I too have some firmly established routines and rituals. This morning for instance, I was up and about early, just after sunrise, in order to make an eight o’clock appointment with my hairdresser. It’s Saturday morning and I’m continuing a ritual that has endured for more than twenty years. I have been going to the same hairdresser, Leni for all that time. The appointments have been set for early on a Saturday morning for as long as I can remember. I am in and out of the salon in just over twenty minutes and it always goes something like this when I arrive.
‘Morning Alan, are we going short today?’
‘No, just a trim thanks Leni.’
‘Maybe, one day short?’
‘Who knows, maybe?.’
We then talk through our usual range of subjects -travel plans, the weather, family and home improvements. This is the pattern of our Saturday appointments.  I have become one of the salon’s oldest customers due to my reliance on Leni to cut my hair. The truth of the matter is, I trust her cutting skills. The length of my locks is literally in Leni’s hands.
With the passage of time, I find myself becoming more than a little concerned about her rapidly approaching retirement. When this time eventually arrives, I will have a big decision to make. My well established routine will end.
Routines are something that place us very firmly in a comfort zone. The only decision I have had to make about haircuts for the last twenty years has been – when, never who or where. Some people change hairdressers regularly. Not me. I remain loyal to Leni!

Slice of Life Story - The Potential That Lies In Artefacts

I took a bag containing a collection of artefacts into a classroom last week. I invited students to delve into the bag and take out a single item. I then shared the story associated with each item. In my mystery bag of goodies students lifted out a ticket to the Sydney Olympics, an old camera originally owned by my father, a Turkish coin, a photograph of my grandson, a badge designed by Author and illustrator, Terry Denton and an antique Balinese bamboo spice container. The students listened respectfully as I told the stories quickly and enthusiastically. They had questions, their curiosity aroused by the various items I shared. My aim was to show them that we all have stories to tell. Sometimes those stories surround the keepsakes, treasures and artefacts we hold close. I challenged them to think about some of their personal artefacts as a potential source for writing ideas. They resolved to go home and sketch or photograph some of these treasures and place them into their respective notebooks and write about them. I suspect that previously these things had been overlooked. They now had a fresh lens through which to view their world. I am filled with anticipation as to what their investigations might uncover.

Unlocking the ideas that reside in things is always energizing. One student told me as I was leaving, ‘I can’t wait to write about some of my special artefects’ That comment made my heart sing.

Slice of Life Story - Discovering Where Ideas Dwell

An exchange I had with a teacher just a few days ago has been on my mind since then. It is buzzing around my brain.

The teacher was at pains to tell me how her students were struggling to think of topics for their writing. ‘They never seem to come up with much, so that’s why I have to give them sentence starters.’ The word 'have' jarred in my ears.

I was asked to work with her students. ‘Could you demonstrate how writers get their ideas?’ I wondered if the teacher had ever considered this same question?
Had those young writers been asked to explore this same idea? I got the impression I was expected to fix them in some way. I felt strongly that the answer lay elsewhere. Had any enquiry taken place?
Demonstrating and modelling how we connect to the world around us is a vital lesson for our students. We need to demonstrate how we see the potential in things for writing each and every day. We need to demonstrate how we harvest ideas and how we excavate memories. Listing, brainstorming, discussing, questioning, wondering, sketching, mapping, musing, note making all form part of that critical pre-writing part of the process we need to share. If we teach with expectation that lacks support for thinking and linking, ideas will find it difficult to flourish. Instead of a brainstorm, we’ll be lucky to get ‘isolated drizzle!’ If writing is a magic act we need to take our students back stage and show the tricks that are hidden up the magician's sleeve.
Nothing influences a child’s attitude to writing more than the choice of topic. If the child has chosen it and if the teacher shows genuine interest in it, then there’s often no limit to the effort the child will make. Young writers who are given this power become confident in choosing topics for themselves. I compare this with the approach of my own fifth grade teacher who owned the topics we wrote about. She merely threw them at us each Thursday afternoon. There was little confidence building in that approach. It did, no doubt influence the attitude of many of those students in the opposite direction to writing.
My thoughts around this issue continue to bubble away...

Slice of Life Story - Under The Milky Way Tonight

I’m standing in front of our house it is late in the evening and I am patiently waiting for our little dog Boo to do what dog’s need to do at the end of the day. It is a surprisingly mild evening for March and as Boo scratches and sniffs about, I wait patiently like a supervising parent.  I look skyward. There is the hint of a breeze this evening and the trees whisper a kind of lullaby.

The night sky is clear and my eyes connect with a glittering star garden. I can see for a million miles tonight but I have no interest in going anywhere at this particular moment.

I stand in awe and wonder as this magnificent sparkling extravaganza; this blanket of stars holds me mesmerized. I begin looking for the Southern Cross constellation. As a young boy I would lie in bed and stare out my window at the night sky. The moon would shine on me. My recollection of this childhood memory is immediate and strong.

As Boo trots back to me, snuffling and brushing against my leg in a sign that she is ready to go back inside, I glance up one last time. Under the milky way tonight, I have enjoyed this small moment. It is a great finale to my day.

Slice of Life Story - Up Early And On The Way

Today I was up at 5.20am in order to work at a school in Melbourne’s west. When I left home it was 6.30am and still dark outside. The morning was mild and the sound of birdsong muted. The warble of magpies had not begun, although in the distance the cackle of the kookaburras was noticeable. Like me they were out and about early. The difference being that I rarely cackle in the morning. It often takes me some time before I can open both eyes simultaneously.

If I leave at this time, the journey only takes me a little over 75 minutes. It places me marginally ahead of the morning rush. If I leave any later, the trip becomes a stop start crawl than can take almost two hours. The choice is a no brainer really. Commuter chaos is not an attractive option. So up, and on the road early is the way to go.
I arrived at the school a good hour before school commenced. This allowed me time to settle into the day ahead, fine tune my demonstration lessons, organize resources and check in with teachers. The early get up paid dividends at the work place. The day unfolded smoothly and I departed at day’s end well pleased with the gains made.

Slice of Life Story - An Unplanned Pickle Project!

Yesterday I made green tomato pickle. I picked the last of the tomatoes from our small vegetable garden, found a recipe for green tomato pickle relish and set about producing a few jars of this delicious condiment. Today when I entered the house, I could smell the sweet remnant smells of the previous day’s cooking. The blending of tomatoes, onions, apple vinegar, sugar and spices were lingering in the air. There was a time when I’d regularly do cooking and preserving of our home grown produce, but other things has pushed this activity to the back of the queue in recent years. It was most satisfying to reconnect with such therapeutic activity. Cutting the onions and apple, blanching the tomatoes and then removing the skin, combining them in a large pot on the stove and adding copious amounts of vinegar, sugar and spices was fun. Then I found myself with the task of constant stirring over the simmering pot as the ingredients softened; the mingling aromas tickling my nose. The best thing about this spontaneous task was that I found myself involved in something that disconnected me from the computer.

In those jars I have a spread to savour and enjoy across the coming months. My father used to make green tomato pickle. I recall it well. The smell, the taste and the sight of long glass jars filled with the yummy green spread all came flooding back to me in yesterday’s little endeavour. It prompted me to make labels for the jars, such was my pleasure in this unplanned pickle project! 

Slice of Life - Those Autumn Leaves

Another day in the Slice of Life Story Challenge for MARCH...

Sunday morning finds me sweeping leaves from the drive way in front of our house. As I vigorously work the broom, the wind and the trees conspire to frustrate me. I clear the area of leaves, turn to walk away and then notice my twin foes are taunting me with fresh deposits. Leaves, twigs and small branches miraculously appear seemingly from thin air and lay on the concrete. Leaves dance and flitter before settling on my previously clear canvas. I return to sweeping and remove the latest wind borne irritants. I sweep with renewed intensity. With Shakespearean seriousness I want to cry -'Out damned spot!' because to me this is a tragedy.

I am determined to win- but I won’t. Such is the inevitability of this lopsided contest. Trees and wind one, eternally damned sweeper nil. At least I tried and I did enjoy the transitory pleasure of a clear driveway for those few seconds. Small pleasures punctuate our days. I shall return yet again and go through this ritual of sweeping the driveway –but not today. The wind and the trees will once again frustrate my efforts and commence to do their thing. Is that the wind I hear whispering, or do I actually hear the soft hint of a snigger? I truly believe those things that challenge us, do make us stronger!

I am the broom warrior and as Arnie once so famously uttered –I’ll be back! but for now, I'll leave well enough alone.

Slice of Life Story - The Age of the Sage

Ah Saturday! -A chance to let your thoughts meander a little. For reasons I can’t fully explain my thoughts today are about becoming venerable. I have reached that age where I feel a little more qualified to offer sagely advice. Advice acquired from the wisdom that living brings. Maybe one day I could squat in a cave on the side of a remote mountain and deliver one off advice to confused and worried souls. They could climb up to my humble abode and I could provide the name of that tune they have been humming for days but for the life of them cannot recall the title. Now that would be fulfilling. I know how annoying it is to have an unrecognisable tune circling your brain like a blow fly in a jar. I might also offer one off pieces of advice to soothe trouble minds. So if this is to be my future career move, I need to develop a manifesto:

The Wright Thoughts

Embrace simple pleasures
Take time to listen to music every day
Always wear comfortable underwear
If the sign says fast food think about it slowly
Don’t meditate in the middle of the road
Stop feeling guilty if your favourite ice cream flavour is vanilla
Hold hands
Wherever you are- be there!
Try to find a job that brings you satisfaction
Make certain the person you marry is your best friend
Avoid conservatives. They only want to paint the town beige.
Don’t throw bricks straight up
Sleep in a comfortable bed
Sand between your toes is okay. Sand in your shorts isn’t
Never wear tight clothes on a long trip
Put things back the way you found them- except large maps.
Don’t be afraid to pick up litter
Never take the words I love you for granted
Remember its just one big ocean- keep it clean
Don’t feel guilty about disliking cats
Go to Venice at least once in your life
Every stop is a place to start
You are not an adult until you’ve cleaned gunk out of the sink with your bare hands.
Always take your socks off before you get into bed
Drive until you come to a T intersection if that’s what you want to do
Never forget that sheep are stupid
Breathe in, breathe out, move on (Thank you JB)
Laugh at yourself. Seriously, don’t take yourself too seriously
Don’t worry if you get tongue tied trying to pronounce Namibia
Play hide and seek in the supermarket occasionally
Listen to the songs of birds
Lie on the grass and watch the clouds float past –but not during a thunderstorm!
Never pee into the wind or dare someone to slap you in the face with a wet fish
Skip down the street if the mood takes you.
Grow old disgracefully
It’s possible to be a devotee of  Vivaldi and Jimmy Buffett simultaneously
Anyone can be a poet
A piece of technology may be idiot proof but not teacher proof
Kids are different
Once you've seen one shopping centre, you've seen a mall
Write! It enables you to live life twice!


Further consideration about a prospective future as an oracle leads me to think more about caves; the associated cold and dampness and the prospect of sharing with bats. Afterall, my knees are somewhat arthritic already. So, I am now reconsidering my future plans. Maybe it might be simpler to envision a future as a balloon seller?

Slice of Life Story - The Reading-Writing Connection

Today I challenged a group of graduate teachers to be the readers and writers their students deserve. I urged them to celebrate their literate lives, their passion for learning, with their students. I was talking about the reading- writing connection and how we as educators must endeavour to make these links explicit for our students. It should not be taken for granted that kids’ get it’ It worries me that on too many occasions I have entered classrooms where the teaching of reading and the teaching of writing exist like silos. In those classrooms there appears to be a massive disconnect between these aspects of the literacy program. They should be interdependent. They need each other’s support.

It got me to thinking how my reading life supports my writing life. My reading provides a rich harvest of ideas for my writing. It is nourishment. It is fodder. The reading provides a multitude of teachable moments to share. My reading reflections help me determine what I want students and teachers to discover about reading and how it influences the continuing quest to understand the reader I have become. 

I know that I read for different purposes and therefore the quality and range of the texts I choose varies significantly. When I have extended time for reading, I choose more challenging texts. The extra time enables me to go deeper into the book. I can savour the beauty of the author’s words. I have time to reread and reflect upon the more complex aspects of the text. There is a direct correlation between these extended reading times and term breaks or when I travel. On such occasions, I often find myself reading biographies and travel books, - perenial favourites.

During the school term I am a voracious reader of professional books, magazines and on-line articles. Some I skim read, others require repeated readings and note taking. They all require reflection.They all challenge me to think, compare and contrast.  I also have a stack of books I intend to read and they sit on a shelf in my study waiting patiently for me to return. I am grateful to my reading life for it helps sustain my writing life.

Slice of Life Story - Coffee and Karma

I am sitting in my preferred coffee haunt Via Boffe, looking out the window, as I enjoy a coffee fix and make notes in my writer’s notebook. I am stunned to see a car do a three point turn on busy Main Street on street market day!


The car swings into the disabled parking space directly in front of the café. I am transfixed by the audacity of the driver. Two large, able bodied women emerge from the car and remove bundles of assorted bedding, including a duvet from the rear of the car. They cross the road looking somewhat like floating fluffy clouds, walking in the direction of the dry cleaning shop presumably. They return shortly, minus the load of bedding, remove two handbags from the car, before heading off to explore nearby shops.

About ten minutes later a parking officer; the kind renowned for eating their own young appears and duly places a parking infringement notice on the car’s windscreen. I believe I have witnessed karma.

Slice of Life Story - A Maniac Mentor

Today I was conducting a read aloud using a trusted mentor text, Jerry Spinelli’s ‘Maniac Magee.’ The focus of the lesson was ‘readers generate their own questions. I was using the think aloud strategy to reveal my thinking and locating the evidence from the text that was supporting my thinking. My copy of this book is looking a bit tired. The pages have yellowed, and dog eared at the edges. The front cover is scarred with a burn mark where I left it in front of a data projector that proved way too hot. It has travelled to many school locations stuffed in my bag. Despite its ragged façade, it has served me well. I have used it so many times to teach aspects of writing and reading across the nine years that I first purchased it. Jerry Spinelli is a trusted writer. He shares the task of teaching with me and has never failed to support me.

Before I bought this book, I had no prior knowledge of Spinelli’s writing. I now own several of his books. We have become a team., Spinelli and I. In his writing Spinelli makes liberal use of repetition. He assists the reader to develop strong visual images through his use of the strategy ‘show don’t tell’ and his sentences are often short and punchy. Above all, he tells a great story.

It was back in 2001 that a colleague in New York ( a fellow Aussie) alerted me to the works of Jerry Spinelli. He suggested I would be doing myself a favour if I read a book titled ‘Maniac Magee’ and because I trusted his judgment, I duly bought it. Readers make recommendations to fellow readers all the time. This was a significant recommendation. I have thanked my friend on numerous occasions since that time.


Following the lesson a student approached me informing me how much he enjoyed the demonstration and then told me he wanted to read ‘Maniac Magee.’ Another convert perhaps?

Dealing With Correction

How do we assist students to establish clear procedures for editing their writing? How do we help them to develop skills for proofreading?

A basic ideas

• Expect your students to be their own first editor. Build this into the routines in your class.

• Model and demonstrate how you undertake such a routine

• Notice student needs based on the edits your students make and teach accordingly

• During conferences teach one or two editing skills students might use

Sample Editing Checklist. Suitable for Grade 2 (Adapted from Ralph Fletcher)

SKILL

• I have written complete sentences
• I have used capital letters at the beginning of sentences 
• I have used correct ending punctuation 
• I have checked the spelling of key words

*You would modify the list according to the age level or the need.

When it comes to the issue of correction I suggest teachers provide feedback that engages students in cognitive problem-solving as they attempt to self-edit. Students should be expected to self-edit their texts after receiving feedback, ideally in class where they can consult with their peers and teacher. (Exceptions may include students at lower levels of proficiency, who may not possess the linguistic competence to self-correct.)

Different types of errors require varying treatments. Students may be less capable, for instance, of self-editing some errors with sentence structure than more discrete errors at the word level.

Additional contextualized grammar instruction (in class or through self-study and enquiry recommended by the teacher can facilitate progress in accuracy if it is driven by student needs and integrated with other aspects of error treatment (teacher feedback, charting, proofreading etc.). Katie Wood Ray’s book Study Driven deals with enquiry driven investigation of story grammar in detail, providing excellent support for developing such curriculum approaches.

Maintenance of error charts, ideally made up by the students themselves -with guidance from the teacher, can heighten student awareness of their weaknesses and of their improvement.

Research findings reveal that contextualized feedback is more effective than isolated skill sessions. Even students themselves realize that they will learn more from feedback. Feedback on preliminary drafts is more effective than feedback provided after the writing is completed. By then the writer has moved on from the piece. Their attention is elsewhere.

Oral feedback via writing conferences is highly effective on preliminary drafts, because it provides strong interaction between teacher and student and opportunities for instant clarification of meaning. For the student, talking to a teacher about his/her work and responding to the teacher’s questions is a way to expand and clarify ideas and objectives. I always have the student holding the pen- making the changes. Some teachers find this difficult. They just want to get at those surface features and fix them up!

Because some students make a large number of errors, feedback can easily become overwhelming. It is far better to focus on errors that are global/serious (interfering with understanding) and frequent (as compared to other errors). Most of the careful written corrections undertaken by teachers are actually wasted. Error correcting takes lots of teacher time and energy and many students just do not want to see their writing after teacher corrections. This type of correction wrests the responsibility from the student. The teacher effectively owns the correction process and the developing writer is totally overwhelmed. It entrenches dependency and devalues ownership and responsibility for making the writing ‘reader friendly.’

How can the student add to their writing skills in a way that accords with previous grammar knowledge and vocabulary?

One method is Author’s circle. Such group writing helps students to benefit from feedback and support from several peers. It assists students to learn not only from their mistakes, but from the mistakes of others and makes effective use of the students' and the teacher's time.
You can use the white-board, or large chart paper on an easel. One student writes while the rest of the group from one to three others offers suggestions and corrections during the writing process.

Author’s circle seems to be an effective method of correcting writing errors. Immediate feedback is quick, within the groups and again when corrections are suggested in front of the entire class there is further reinforcement. This small group approach allows students to benefit from group assistance in a peer-learning situation. It is an adjunct to partner sharing.

Another instructional practice is interactive writing, where a number of students share the pen and compose the text for the group. This is best done with teacher guidance.

With the entire class looking on a review of a writing sample can be conducted with class members offering constructive feedback. This takes approach takes time to establish as it requires trust, empathy and a degree of risk taking.

Once correction is incorporated into the teaching framework of the writer’s workshop those out of context skill sessions and hideous black line exercises become excess to need. The teaching of writing grammar needs to embedded in authentic contexts to be fully appreciated and embraced by our student writers.

Slice of Life Story - Consciously Slowing The Flow Of The Day

Sometimes it’s good to saunter, to amble, to take your time. Wander about in the various moments of the day. You see more when you do that. Today, I wanted to slow down a bit, enjoy the moments along the journey through my day. It proved a little difficult given that I was working. Still, I did my best not to rush. Inwardly I tried to slow down. I was conscious of keeping myself in check. Even when I was driving, I wanted to remain unfazed by the impatience and urge to rush of my fellow travellers. Better to arrive a few minutes later than normal than feel under self induced pressure. I am tired of rushing, racing and feeling harried by the pace of my work life in recent weeks. It’s not a case of stop the world, more a case of being aware of the speed and trying to regain the necessary equilibrium.



I recall when living in New York that each time I left our apartment in Midtown, I felt as though I was jumping into a fast flowing stream. People always appeared to be rushing –an irresistible tide of bodies rushing to get nowhere in particular. I quickly became one of them. Gawking tourists became an obstacle to negotiate. I could not believe what I had become in such a short period of time. When I returned to my home in Australia it took time to adjust to the slower pace. I would leave friends in my wake even when walking down Main street for a coffee…

Right now I need to keep working on adjusting my inner speed. Change to a lower gear. 'Slow down you move too fast, you’ve got to make the morning last.' Ah yes, good advice. I had a great day today. I got the speed right, and it worked a treat. Appreciating the small moments was reward in itself.

Slice of Life Story - A Load of Old Piffle

Words come and go. They fall out of favour and new words enter the lexicon all the time. We accept and understand the evolving nature of language. That is what makes it so intriguing. Shades of meaning also exist and terms I heard when living in America sometimes held different meaning back home in Australia. I was always conscious of these differences when out and about. So often we find ourselves code shifting when in different social settings. That’s what makes language so fascinating

Today, in the school I was visiting, I heard a word I have not heard for some time. A teacher engaged in a conversation with a colleague used the term ‘piffle’ (perhaps a blend of piddle and trifle; circa 1878 meaning to talk or act in a trivial, inept, or ineffective way foolish or futile talk or ideas; nonsense.) I can recall my mother using that exact word with phrases such as ‘What a load of piffle!’ I wondered what today’s generation would make of the word piffle?

It seems to me that most people are content to offer a few stock words and phrases in our modern conversation. Rather than expand the range of language used, television and the mass media have limited the range of expression. Such a global influence has resulted in the loss of a plethora of words, phrases and sayings. Mass media speak has standardized the way many of us convey information. Language has become simpler and less nuanced. Colourful expressions such as, ‘Don’t stand around like a spare groom at a wedding’ have been reduced to the less exciting: ‘Get real!’ So I can see why words like piffle have fallen by the way.  Now, all this wondering has lead to me writing this piffling poem:

A Load of Piffle

I heard the man who lives in the apartment next door
Say to his wife
That’s a load of piffle
And I wondered to myself
Why did he take a load of piffle into his apartment?
How did he get that all that piffle upstairs?
Did he carry it up the stairs in a bucket?
Did he carry it on his back?
Or did he put the piffle in his pocket
And plod up the stairs


And now that he’s got that piffle upstairs
What will he do with it?
And what does a pile of piffle look like anyway?


I have to say I find piffle particularly puzzling


So I say, let’s hear it for words like piffle and all those other long forgotten words. Words like codger, lingo ,and fopdoodle to name but a few. Let's make an effort to restore some vitality to our somewhat diluted conversations.

Slice of Life - A Brief Conversation With Cooper

This morning I rang my grandson Cooper, to check in on how he was going. Cooper is aged four and lives in Sydney some 900kms away. He is at an age where absence doesn’t make the heart grow fonder. Absence makes the vision fade, so it is important to maintain the profile with regular chit chats as he sometimes likes to call them. When I called he was somewhere outside doing nothing in particular, but he came to the phone when his Dad called for him and the conversation went something like this:

Hi Cooper’

‘Hello Papa’

‘Well, what have you been doing this week?’

‘I‘ve been roller-skating.’

‘Really? I didn’t know you had roller skates.’

‘Yes, I got them for my birthday.’

‘How’s your balance?’

‘Good!’

‘Now tell me, what have you got planned for today?’
‘I’m going to have a milkshake.’
‘That sounds like something to look forward to…’


-And with that he was gone. The thought of the milkshake had obviously triggered a need to hurry things up a bit and I was extraneous to that primary need. Maslow’s hierarchy of needs was clearly operating here.
My son, Stephen came on the phone and laughed.
‘You struck out that time Dad. The thought of a milkshake is clearly more important in the pecking order right at this moment, it seems.
“Short and sweet today. Maybe I’ll have better luck next week?.’


That’s the way it goes sometimes. Children have a way of reminding you where you stand in the scheme of things. When he was three Cooper asked to speak to me one evening and his call duly came through and I was pleasantly surprised by his call. We chatted for quite some time on that particular occasion about a whole range of matters. Later I told my son how happy I was to have had such a great conversation with Cooper and what a pleasant surprise it was to get his call. I was so obviously pumped.
‘That’s great Dad, but I have to tell you were third behind the Easter bunny and Spiderman,’ Stephen informed me
‘Ah well, I’m at least in good company,’ I responded.

Slice of Life Story- Vivid Verbs and The Sound of Silence

I was driving yesterday morning and thinking about my day's work. In particular I was thinking about revision strategies and the way vivid verbs enhance writing when young writers are taught to use them to greater effect. Looking closely at the verbs in a writing piece is a great way to revise a writing piece. The reader’s ability to visualize is greatly enhanced when vivid verbs are consciously employed.  They are the muscles of writing in the same adjectives are the fat. Well, at that precise moment as I lingered in that verb vibe, my trusty ipod threw up a golden oldie in the form of Simon and Garfunkel's 'Sounds of Silence' and it was as if I were listening to the lyrics for the very first time. My awareness was suddenly heightened and the power of the verbs struck me. And the connection was complete.

‘When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light that split the night and touched the sound of silence…’

Wow, what a great use of verbs to aid the listener; the reader. ‘Sounds of Silence’ was my first album purchase and with that my collection of music began. Yet, despite all those years of hearing that particular song, I had failed to register with the strong nature of the verbs in the lyrics. I not only read differently now, but I also listen differently. Katie Wood Ray, I thank you for this.  As I looked down the vast hallway of my memory, recollection of that song in that far away time came surging back. Music and memory fused together in a sudden moment of recall of a schoolboy’s purchase. A time when school days were nearing an end, and summer was calling out to an uncertain teenager with a head full of dreams and aspirations.

Musical memories work like a time machine conveying us back to the misty recesses of our earlier life. When music connects to memory, it evokes strong recollections of past events. It is in those musical connections that we conjure up memories of angels, ghosts, hope and heartache. Vivid verbs and vivid memories –what a combination!

And in the neon light I saw ten thousand people maybe more…

Slice of Life Story - When Socks Go Wild!

It’s Friday; the end of a demanding working week and for reasons I cannot adequately explain, my thoughts have turned to socks.

I am so glad I’m not a sock. Crammed into stinky shoes-rarely seeing daylight, socks endure a most depressing existence. It is hardly surprising then that socks really make the most of being tossed into the wash! It’s a chance to break out, go wild and even make a break for freedom. Before you dismiss me as a loon, consider the following…
Once we toss them into the washing machine socks finally get the chance to hang out with other items of apparel. Once in the sudsy world of the wash cycle, socks get to rage and have fun- spinning with shirts and undies, splashing about with fellow socks; tangling and untangling. Oh what freedom!


As the machine goes through its cycles, socks rock and roll without a care. Finally the spin cycle begins and that’s when socks realize the good times are fast coming to an end. That’s when they go into panic mode. They cling desperately to the sides of the machine hoping not to be noticed when the spinning ends.


Amazingly some fortunate socks actually escape the scrutiny- they find themselves overlooked when the wash is removed. They avoid detection, by slinking from view. How do they manage it? I’m not quite sure. However, I know they do avoid being discovered and much evidence of their success as escape artists readily comes to mind. Think about it for a moment. How many times have you placed a pair of socks in the wash only to have a solitary sock return? Where does that other sock disappear to? How does it manage to break free?


While it remains a mystery akin to the eternal disappearing coat hanger legend, I feel a genuine sense of empathy with socks. Who among us can begrudge the humble sock making a dash for freedom? Afterall, would you like to live such a socking life, up close and personal with all those stinky toes?

Slice of Life Story- Being Joyfully Literate

Every day when I enter the classroom I carry with me the words of educator and author, Regie Routman. It was from Regie I got the magic words  that as teachers we need to be 'joyfully literate' I have lost count of the number of times I have uttered those words over the years, in my work as a consultant and coach. Teaching in part is a performance art. We emit messages about where we stand as readers and writers each time we find ourselves in front of a group of students. Kids know if we are genuine with our utterances regarding the importance of literacy. Every day it is more important to  act out 'show don't tell' when it comes to sharing the joy of being a literate being.  


Today I found myself reading one of my all time favourite poems, Michael Rosen's 'Chocolate Cake.' I love presenting this poem for numerous reasons -the humour, the connection to childhood, Rosen's wonderful words, the atypical structure of the poem.  For me, it is  an absolute pleasure each and every time I launch into the reading. I look at the faces of children seated before me, and the spark of delight I witness, drives me to provide the most animated reading I can possibly give. It is for me, an absolute buzz to be able to share this moment with such an appreciative audience. By the end of the reading they are hanging on every single word. They laugh, they smile, they imagine. This is my reward. They want more.  


I began teaching the year Neil Armstrong walked on the moon. I am immensely proud of the fact that I retain the same enthusiasm for teaching I possessed when I entered the profession all those years ago. Teaching is too important to be anything less than joyfully literate. Regie, you are absolutely spot on with your message. 

Slice Of Life Story -The First Time Is Often Memorable

This morning I found myself talking and writing with a group of Year 9 high school students. They were generating a list of potential writing ideas for a narrative and one student suggested making a list of ‘firsts.’ They began to think about all those first times in their lives. The talk began to flow easily. I sat and listened and began to think.

Our lives are punctuated by so many of these first experiences. Some of them are profound and unforgettable, others somewhat regrettable or embarrassing. Sometimes the first time we experience a thing becomes the last time as well, for we determine never to repeat that event. As one student told the group, ‘The first time I ate onions was also the last!’

Suddenly a thought rushed into my head -I know where I was the first time I heard ‘The Beatles!’ I was not exactly sure where that came from, but it surfaced without warning, so I decided to work with it and began jotting down notes in my notebook…

I had just stepped off the school bus and dragged myself across the road to the local milk bar (drug store) as teenagers do. I had change in my pocket and a couple of my school mates in tow. In those far off times chocolate bullets were so cheap. You were able to buy 8 for a penny!

A juke box had just been installed and it was playing as we entered the shop. The song was ‘From Me To You’ and I was immediately drawn to its energy and sound. At that time I did not know who it was serenading me, but I found myself moving towards the player to check it out. I needed to know. My curiosity was aroused. Music has always been a strong force in my life and this compelling need to identify the performer indicated that same musical force was evident on this occasion. I had not heard of the Beatles, so the name was unfamiliar as was the sound. Soon it would be everywhere. Soon it would be everything…

Through the mists of time, the memory of that day came floating back. It is such a strong and clear recollection and it arrives as a pleasant surprise.

Slice of Life - The Ring's The Thing

I’m standing in a shopping mall waiting to order my lunch from a sandwich bar/deli; the kind where you build your sandwich from an assortment of fillings. My order is taken and I stand waiting for the sandwich to be completed. A man standing beside me begins to order his lunch from a second person serving behind the counter. As he begins to relay his order, his phone rings. He dives into his pocket and extracts his phone of choice and holds up a hand to the woman before uttering ‘Hang on a minute.’ She immediately stops sandwich construction duties, and stands as if in suspended animation for what seems an eternity. Her serving tongs are held like a torch in the air while phone man attends to his phone message. The woman says nothing, as if frozen mid order. An interminable time passes with phone man glued to his phone listening, still listening.

All the while the woman waits. Her eyes though, begin to betray her disquiet at what is taking place here. She says nothing. The man finally lowers the phone from his ear and resumes calling his order. No apology, no explanation. The woman with incredible restraint and good grace, resumes her duties and completes the order.


I cannot believe what I have just witnessed. Mobile phones have now spread into every corner of our lives. Their spread is so pervasive that they have become the most intrusive piece of technology known to man. It seems that there are many among us have lost sight of respect for others when it comes to using phones. We frequently find ourselves privy to conversations that range from ho-hum to excruciatingly private. A form of banal news reporting assaults our ears. Phones interrupt meetings, movies and sandwich orders too it seems. -And don’t get me started on ring tones!

The lines of appropriate behaviour and respect for others have been further eroded by our inability to deny ourselves immediate gratification. Phone etiquette would seem an appropriate focus for public service announcements.


*Please note that my phone was on ‘silent’ during the writing of this slice.

Slice of Life Story - News and Views that Raise the Hackles

I probably should stop reading newspapers. I picked up the newspaper from the front of my house  and the headline that greeted me made another deliberately inflammatory statement regarding the so called ‘education revolution.’



Whenever I read about education in the print media, it so often involves the views of people so far removed from the reality of schools and their unique issues, that it is almost laughable. It doesn’t prevent them from espousing views that run counter to the efforts of committed educators and the communities they serve. Politicians talking about education frequently bandy about the term ‘accountability.’ You hear them blurt media grabs such as, ‘We need more accountability in schools, more transparency in reporting learning outcomes, parents are demanding more information!’


I have reached the conclusion that by transparency they actually mean ‘control.’ Politicians view education as something they can ‘appear’ to assert control over. They do this in the belief that it gains them kudos with their constituency. They view schools as a vulnerable target, and actually they’re right. Schools are vulnerable. -Vulnerable in terms of funding; vulnerable in terms of perception. As we know, everyone is an expert on education by virtue of the fact that they once attended school. It matters little to their pronouncements that schools and the delivery of education are an evolving entity, subject to change. The view of many is welded to some mythical golden era when schools were somehow much better.


Politicians pursue educational ‘accountability with a zeal that is not equally reflected in their dealings with lawyers, dentists, architects and similar professions. Educators deal with real accountability on an ongoing, daily basis when executing their duty of care. Accountability is not a foreign concept to teachers. It is at the forefront of their thinking- as it should be. This political, poll driven cry of ‘greater accountability in schools’ reminds me of the saying, ‘If a politician is telling you what’s wrong with schools, you’re probably looking at the problem.’


It’s tough. I love my daily dose of newspaper. Most mornings I am almost tempted to roll in the newsprint, such is the fix it provides. My hands are almost shaking as I battle with the plastic wrap surrounding the daily blather. However, there truly are days when the newspaper is only good for wrapping fish heads it seems…

Dialogue -That's What I'm Talking About!

Students using dialogue in their writing is frequently defined by extremes –too much or too little!

Where there is too much dialogue, the writing is more like a script. The writing often lacks any structure in which the dialogue can be supported. We have all seen students doing this with dialogue. They may have whole pages with characters talking except there is something missing. It’s the internal voice –the voice inside the character’s head along with the actions and movements that people make as they talk.

Then there’s the other situation where the dialogue is either non existent or so stilted that it is almost banal. For dialogue to be of value it must reveal something about the characters and their relationship with one another. If the dialogue reveals little about the characters we begin to lose interest in them. A character’s dialogue needs to be pithier than merely talking about the weather. It should aim to push the plot along or reveal something about the plot the reader didn’t know previously. If a character is fussy or worried this should show through in the dialogue.
One tip to improve how students use dialogue is to try getting them to sandwich action between pieces of dialogue so that it looks like this:

Dialogue – Action – Dialogue

‘We’ll have to keep on eye on him’ The preacher put his arm around Winn Dixie. ‘We’ll have to make sure he doesn’t get out during a storm. He might run away.’
Source: Because of Winn Dixie, Kate DiCamillo


This makes a more engaging text variation than having the character speak and then continually adding – Trent said, or Sally said. This eventually becomes annoying for the reader. If the writer sets the conversation between characters out correctly you don’t actually have to keep saying who is speaking –it’s obvious, particularly when only two characters are conversing.

‘What do we do next?’ I asked
‘We stay here and wait.’ my father said
‘Are they all roosting Dad?’
‘Yes. They’re all around us. They don’t go far.’
‘Could I see them if I shone my light into the branches?’
Source: Danny The Champion of the World, Roald Dahl

One of the best ways to conduct a close study of dialogue is to undertake a mentor study. Gathering the work of a particular author and examine how that author uses dialogue. In that way students reach a deeper understanding of craft and conventions. Using authors your students know and trust is the way to go. Have them think about how the author uses dialogue to add to the story. For those students experiencing difficulties using dialogue effectively this would also be a good time to use guided or interactive writing to assist the development of this important text support.

Slice of Life Story -The Ties That Bind

I was sitting in Via Boffe enjoying a coffee and reflecting on the funeral for a friend held the previous day. One of his quirks was to request the same cup for his second cup of coffee. He was among other things –an energy conservationist.

As I sat there in my favourite position near the front window, in walks the café owner’s son, Josh, resplendent in a suit. It is about 11.00 am and the café is filled with customers dressed casually to reflect the relaxed mood of the weekend. Josh stands slightly ill at ease. The suit and he share an uneasy relationship. In his normal work as a chef there is little call for tailored threads. A hand raised to his neck indicates that he feels a little collar proud. In a short while Josh will head off to a wedding- not his own. Little does he, or the bridal party for that matter, realize that later in the day Melbourne will experience one of its most violent storms in recorded history. It will be a memorable day in so many ways.

Staff and customers alike readily compliment Josh on his appearance. The hint of a grin surfaces on his face. In his hand he is holding a carefully rolled up neck tie. With a slight gesture of his hand Josh indicates that he would like some assistance with attaching it. He looks directly at me and mutters quietly, ‘Do you know how to do a tie?’

‘I sure do’ I reply and stand up to assist the young man. I gently lift the collar of his shirt and he hands me the tie in a show of trust. I place it around his neck and he smiles. At the precise moment that I begin looping the ‘tie’ I am struck with a strong sense of déjà vu. As I continue the task, I quietly share with Josh my excavated memory.

‘Josh, doing this for you reminds of a small moment I had about six years ago as I was walking along Adelphi Street in Brooklyn. I was walking toward de Kalb Avenue to buy my lunch at the Clinton Hill diner, something I did most Tuesdays. A young man was sitting in the passenger seat of a car parked beside the kerb. He wound down the window and with a voice that suggested  he was unsure about approaching me said, ‘ Excuse me sir, do you know how to attach a tie?

‘I’ve had a bit of practice’ I told him, ‘Why?’

He held up a forlorn looking tie and asked me would I mind helping him with it. ‘No problem’ I said. He informed me that he was about to present for an interview and he had never worn a tie in his whole life. So there I was, standing on the side of the street leaning through a car window helping a stranger to organize his outfit for an interview. He was so grateful. He was also palpably nervous. He must have repeated the phrase ‘Thanks man, thanks brother,’ about a dozen times. No worries, I told him in that off hand Aussie way.

I wished him the very best of luck with the interview before we shook hands and I continued on my way to the diner. -A chance meeting connected by a tie. I always hoped he got that job, but I never got an answer to that one.

I completed attaching Josh’s tie, then checked that the mandatory knot covered the top button of his shirt, that it sat evenly and comfortably, and that the end of the tie met with his belt –all important issues for a proper neck tie. ‘Should I do up the waist coat?’ he asked. ‘Do that later’ I confided. ‘For now, just relax as much as you can given that you’re wearing a suit.’

A relieved young man expressed his gratitude. My wife, Vicki told him how handsome he looked and how well the tie matched the rest of his outfit. He blushed. Nobody in the café blinked as all this was taking place. Josh downed two quick espresso coffees, bid farewell to us all, and was on his way to the wedding.

As I’m writing this, another tie to my past is suddenly reprised. This one comes flooding back after twenty years. I am teaching Grade 3 at Mount Martha Primary School and we decide to have a tie day!  I, along with every one of my students wore a special tie as part of a special day we organized for ourselves. We measured ties for length and width. We calculated the total length of our ties. We classified them for dominant colours and we voted on the most unusual tie. We took photographs and told stories about the history of each tie.


Ah yes, the ties that bind…