English II,
or
How I Learned to Let Students Express Themselves in More than Just a Paragraph
First Year: Attack of the Paragraphs
During my first year as a teacher, I allowed students to express themselves in one way: by writing a paragraph with a particular structure. A paragraph with quotes from the reading in it.
Every. Single. Time.
This was the only way I allowed students to express what they had learned on any given objective at any given time. AJI paragraph. AJI paragraph. AJI paragraph.
Now, I had good reason for this singular method of expression. We were barreling toward the PARCC assessment, which included a heavy focus on evidence from readings (these paragraphs DEMANDED evidence, so they worked well). The PARCC assessment also required students to write three essays under a time crunch--in something like an hour and a half. So we rushed, we read, we wrote, and we repeated.
Every. Single. Time.
This was the only way I allowed students to express what they had learned on any given objective at any given time. AJI paragraph. AJI paragraph. AJI paragraph.
Now, I had good reason for this singular method of expression. We were barreling toward the PARCC assessment, which included a heavy focus on evidence from readings (these paragraphs DEMANDED evidence, so they worked well). The PARCC assessment also required students to write three essays under a time crunch--in something like an hour and a half. So we rushed, we read, we wrote, and we repeated.
The students never revolted, and their writing (in fact) improved as time went on. This was a testament to their work ethic--certainly not to anything I did.
Practice, practice, practice--and practice we did! But struggling writers, or students who desired to crack their brains open and seek new ways of expression, were denied.
Until... second year!
Practice, practice, practice--and practice we did! But struggling writers, or students who desired to crack their brains open and seek new ways of expression, were denied.
Until... second year!
Second Year: ANYTHING GOES (!?)
So, in my second year, my classroom underwent a series of changes--the classroom's four nine weeks became a laboratory for students to show their understanding in various ways. But it didn't start out that way.
Second Year: First Nine Weeks
My first nine weeks of second year was nearly identically structure to my first year. While lessons were much better, students still had me guiding them and setting perimeters every minute:
Monday was new skill day.
Tuesday was skill practice in literary reading day.
Wednesday was skill practice and informational text day.
Thursday was reading/class discussion day.
Friday was a test or some type of project, or essay, including analysis of the week's readings.
Monday was new skill day.
Tuesday was skill practice in literary reading day.
Wednesday was skill practice and informational text day.
Thursday was reading/class discussion day.
Friday was a test or some type of project, or essay, including analysis of the week's readings.
Second Year: Let the Experimentation Begin!
The Story of the Game of Goofs
Hard Work, Awful Scores
I teach state-tested English (tenth grade English for life!). After the first nine-weeks ended this fall, when I was reviewing my students’ scores on their state-test style, diagnostic nine-weeks test, I was not in a good place.
The scores were abysmal.
My students worked hard all nine weeks—for the most part?—reading with me, annotating with me, discussing with me, and writing with me. What happened?
A Goofy Solution
In frustration, I went to Ms. Taylor, one of the most wonderful teachers I have met who happens to be the inclusion teacher in my room three periods out of the day.
She noted that my energy level and personal style (let’s call it high energy, high zaniness, with a sizable dash of frantic and a lot of silly) may not exactly fit the “I Do, We Do, You Do” lesson line. She and I also concluded that the students had to take much greater control of their own learning. Of course, we also needed to catch ALL students rather than move at a breakneck pace (the state test is timed) and miss half the students on half the skills.
As a result, we decided to try something I could’ve never implemented without her help: game-based learning.
What is this "Game?"
My classroom has become a “game” of sorts: The Game of Goofs. Where every week is comprised of units that last between one day and four days. Where individual assignments are “levels” to be beaten in every unit (or “game,” from here on out). So the unit becomes a game, and the assignment becomes a level to be defeated. Each level shows a deepening progression of the skill at hand.
However, each skill is always explicitly taught and discussed at the beginning of each game. This is essentially guided practice, which we in the Game of Goofs call the “strategy guide.”
So, at my own devising, my classroom has become one big game. Who could’ve predicted it?
Each game is comprised of assignments that ask for understanding of the skill at hand, but students may choose how they express their understanding of that skill. Students can write a paragraph using evidence from readings. Students can also make Google Slides presentations, miniature comic books (a classroom favorite), posters, and timelines (all with textual evidence, of course).
Students have also completed scavenger hunts that involve them getting up, moving around the room to search for parts of assignments or questions to be answered. The kids work in different stations around the room. They move, think, seek, and ask questions.
Students have worked with each other and sought each others’ help.
One huge caveat, though: through it all, students are responsible for figuring all directions and assignments out on their own. They are welcome to ask questions (they know I’m not mean, and they take advantage of that at times), ask for help, and receive help. However, they have to be aware of when they need help. Then, they have to decide to ask for help. Finally, they have to ask specific questions—no more “I don’t get it” or “I don’t know what to do.”
(Disclaimer: This last paragraph about directions is contingent on a few factors. The way I treat directions works because I have a classroom culture that allows for me to act this way regarding assignments. I naturally relate well to the kids, and they relate well to me, so me being hard on them about directions and assignments doesn’t come across as mean or insensitive—it’s more of me setting a high expectation for them to be responsible and independent. It has worked well so far! I also have a great inclusion teacher who helps build my classroom culture in three of my six english classes. We hammer the kids about directions. It’s a skill they need to work on.)
So—why try all these shenanigans?
To catch as many students as possible.
In this “game,” I push students to work as fast as possible (and sometimes impose time limits), but, for the most part, students have the ability to work at their own pace. This way, students learn the skills necessary, but they learn them because I do not allow them to move on until they have completed each assignment. Level 1 has to come before Level 2, etc. As a result, some students move slowly—but these students also master these skills (to some degree) due to the understanding that they, as the student (player?) must beat each level before moving forward.
Lessons Taught (and Learned)
So, in the end, I have realized my classroom needs to be much less about “me” and much more about “them.” Much less of me controlling every moment and word of every day and much more of them working, thinking, exploring, questioning, solving, getting frustrated, finding answers, and seeking help. As well as moving, making, producing, creating. Building. And hopefully, eventually, understanding.
Has the Game of Goofs been perfect? Not by a long shot. I’m only a second-year teacher. As a result, I have made some big mistakes when implementing this game. There have been days where far too many students did far too little work. (Lesson: When the students do ALL the work in a day, the teacher realizes how important investment and motivation is to a classroom. The teacher also realizes how confusing some of his assignments can be.)
There have been days where moving around the room produced less work (rather than more). There have been days where comic book assignments turned into beautiful covers with no skill-based information on the inside. There have been days when the number of questions about the assignments (levels) drove me up the wall.
There have also been days when I focused on the negative more than the positive. When I focused on what we didn’t get accomplished rather than what we did. In the midst of the clarity of mind Thanksgiving Break brings, I am working to push my students even harder yet remain positive rather than dwelling on the negative.
But we’re working on it. I’m figuring out, better and better, how to give the kids control over their own learning without letting that same independence wreck the classroom. I’m learning how to push students while being innovative, engaging, exciting, and still (Lord knows) get them ready for a looming state test.
So how do I attempt to catch struggling students? By the Game of Goofs. We all play the game (including Mr. Hart), we play at our own pace, and we do our best.
And until the doors swing open for summer break in May, we’ll continue to see where the next level leads us.
I teach state-tested English (tenth grade English for life!). After the first nine-weeks ended this fall, when I was reviewing my students’ scores on their state-test style, diagnostic nine-weeks test, I was not in a good place.
The scores were abysmal.
My students worked hard all nine weeks—for the most part?—reading with me, annotating with me, discussing with me, and writing with me. What happened?
A Goofy Solution
In frustration, I went to Ms. Taylor, one of the most wonderful teachers I have met who happens to be the inclusion teacher in my room three periods out of the day.
She noted that my energy level and personal style (let’s call it high energy, high zaniness, with a sizable dash of frantic and a lot of silly) may not exactly fit the “I Do, We Do, You Do” lesson line. She and I also concluded that the students had to take much greater control of their own learning. Of course, we also needed to catch ALL students rather than move at a breakneck pace (the state test is timed) and miss half the students on half the skills.
As a result, we decided to try something I could’ve never implemented without her help: game-based learning.
What is this "Game?"
My classroom has become a “game” of sorts: The Game of Goofs. Where every week is comprised of units that last between one day and four days. Where individual assignments are “levels” to be beaten in every unit (or “game,” from here on out). So the unit becomes a game, and the assignment becomes a level to be defeated. Each level shows a deepening progression of the skill at hand.
However, each skill is always explicitly taught and discussed at the beginning of each game. This is essentially guided practice, which we in the Game of Goofs call the “strategy guide.”
So, at my own devising, my classroom has become one big game. Who could’ve predicted it?
Each game is comprised of assignments that ask for understanding of the skill at hand, but students may choose how they express their understanding of that skill. Students can write a paragraph using evidence from readings. Students can also make Google Slides presentations, miniature comic books (a classroom favorite), posters, and timelines (all with textual evidence, of course).
Students have also completed scavenger hunts that involve them getting up, moving around the room to search for parts of assignments or questions to be answered. The kids work in different stations around the room. They move, think, seek, and ask questions.
Students have worked with each other and sought each others’ help.
One huge caveat, though: through it all, students are responsible for figuring all directions and assignments out on their own. They are welcome to ask questions (they know I’m not mean, and they take advantage of that at times), ask for help, and receive help. However, they have to be aware of when they need help. Then, they have to decide to ask for help. Finally, they have to ask specific questions—no more “I don’t get it” or “I don’t know what to do.”
(Disclaimer: This last paragraph about directions is contingent on a few factors. The way I treat directions works because I have a classroom culture that allows for me to act this way regarding assignments. I naturally relate well to the kids, and they relate well to me, so me being hard on them about directions and assignments doesn’t come across as mean or insensitive—it’s more of me setting a high expectation for them to be responsible and independent. It has worked well so far! I also have a great inclusion teacher who helps build my classroom culture in three of my six english classes. We hammer the kids about directions. It’s a skill they need to work on.)
So—why try all these shenanigans?
To catch as many students as possible.
In this “game,” I push students to work as fast as possible (and sometimes impose time limits), but, for the most part, students have the ability to work at their own pace. This way, students learn the skills necessary, but they learn them because I do not allow them to move on until they have completed each assignment. Level 1 has to come before Level 2, etc. As a result, some students move slowly—but these students also master these skills (to some degree) due to the understanding that they, as the student (player?) must beat each level before moving forward.
Lessons Taught (and Learned)
So, in the end, I have realized my classroom needs to be much less about “me” and much more about “them.” Much less of me controlling every moment and word of every day and much more of them working, thinking, exploring, questioning, solving, getting frustrated, finding answers, and seeking help. As well as moving, making, producing, creating. Building. And hopefully, eventually, understanding.
Has the Game of Goofs been perfect? Not by a long shot. I’m only a second-year teacher. As a result, I have made some big mistakes when implementing this game. There have been days where far too many students did far too little work. (Lesson: When the students do ALL the work in a day, the teacher realizes how important investment and motivation is to a classroom. The teacher also realizes how confusing some of his assignments can be.)
There have been days where moving around the room produced less work (rather than more). There have been days where comic book assignments turned into beautiful covers with no skill-based information on the inside. There have been days when the number of questions about the assignments (levels) drove me up the wall.
There have also been days when I focused on the negative more than the positive. When I focused on what we didn’t get accomplished rather than what we did. In the midst of the clarity of mind Thanksgiving Break brings, I am working to push my students even harder yet remain positive rather than dwelling on the negative.
But we’re working on it. I’m figuring out, better and better, how to give the kids control over their own learning without letting that same independence wreck the classroom. I’m learning how to push students while being innovative, engaging, exciting, and still (Lord knows) get them ready for a looming state test.
So how do I attempt to catch struggling students? By the Game of Goofs. We all play the game (including Mr. Hart), we play at our own pace, and we do our best.
And until the doors swing open for summer break in May, we’ll continue to see where the next level leads us.
The Rules of the Game: An Introduction
Our First Every Strategy Guide:
Level 1: Reading, "Discovering the Tidal Pool"
Game of Goofs Units:
For more units:
Products of the Game of Goofs:
Student Work and Actions Shots
The above slideshow was created by two students who make Room 11 a bright place during 4th period.
The above slideshow was made by a student who makes Room 11 a bright place during 4th period.