Here it is, the last semester of the school year. I've been with this group of 8th graders every day it seems since the end of August. This week I've got them working on an essay project that discusses what they did while they were out on spring break.
In my class essay writing is done through a series of steps that includes prewriting, drafting, proofreading, peer editing, and revising the work before turning in the final paper. It's a little more drawn out than maybe it needs to be, but it's important to me that they understand how to help make their writing better. It's important to me to show them how they can all become effective storytellers.
Every time we've done this in the past they've complained, dragged their feet, and generally done a half-assed job of things, which usually turns me into an angry frstrated a-hole who assigns extra work to try to get my point across.
..So today in class they came in and I told them to finish up their peer edits in preparation for revising their work to turn in. They groaned, opened their notebooks, and got to work.
Everyone here in the classroom - reading and writing, doing the things I've offered to them during the year to help them write better essays. Sitting at my desk waching them work, I suddenly realize that I don't have anything to do.
...God, I'm bored.
In my class essay writing is done through a series of steps that includes prewriting, drafting, proofreading, peer editing, and revising the work before turning in the final paper. It's a little more drawn out than maybe it needs to be, but it's important to me that they understand how to help make their writing better. It's important to me to show them how they can all become effective storytellers.
Every time we've done this in the past they've complained, dragged their feet, and generally done a half-assed job of things, which usually turns me into an angry frstrated a-hole who assigns extra work to try to get my point across.
..So today in class they came in and I told them to finish up their peer edits in preparation for revising their work to turn in. They groaned, opened their notebooks, and got to work.
Everyone here in the classroom - reading and writing, doing the things I've offered to them during the year to help them write better essays. Sitting at my desk waching them work, I suddenly realize that I don't have anything to do.
...God, I'm bored.