I teach middle school English, read and profusely highlighted Nancie Atwell's seminal work IN THE MIDDLE, and once served as an intern at her Center for Teaching and Learning one snowy February in Edgecomb, Maine (a class act, Atwell came in on a snow day to meet with a group of teachers who expected the day to be a complete loss due to the school closing). Under her influence, I built an in-class library at considerable cost, launched a full-steam-ahead reading workshop, and spent countless weekends poring over kids' reading journals so I could write back encouragement and questions. Still, there were always questions and concerns about the workshop method (not to mention the time-intensive journals), plus new reading strategies to reckon with as the years rolled by. This new book deals with both issues - concerns related to workshop methodology as well as the latest reading strategy fads.
For instance, in recent years our school has jumped on the "Sticky-Note Bandwagon" and English teachers were like flies to flypaper following its prescriptions to create better student readers. Under this "Reading Strategies That Work" spell, we began to isolate readings, stop our readers mid-page, and teach kids how to make connections, determine importance, ask questions, make inferences, visualize, and synthesize.
You can imagine my pleasure, then, when I read Atwell's words in a chapter called "Comprehension." She writes, "In the 1990's, I jumped -- VAULTED is a more accurate verb -- onto the comprehension-strategy bandwagon.... In I plunged. I explained proficient reader research and schema theory to my students. I prepared, rehearsed, and modeled a connection-packed read-aloud of a short story by Robert Cormier. Then I passed out individual pads of self-sticking notes and invited kids to activate their existing schema, connect these to the new schema that emerged as they read, and capture it all on sticky notes" (pp. 51-53).
If misery loves company, then you know why I found comfort in these words. You see, I, too, had followed the pied piper. I, too, had sensed something was wrong as my students dutifully parroted my words and terms while playing a game whose rules I spelled out. And yes -- I, too, had sticky-noted my way to reading perdition, wondering all along why so sound a theory was striking such a strident note with my increasingly restive 8th-grade readers.
Enter THE READING ZONE, where the Empire Strikes Back in the form of Atwell reaffirming her original tenets, built on the work of countless researchers such as Frank Smith and Louise Rosenblatt. Turns out, all that stopping to think about reading was interfering with... reading; and all that stopping to write on a sticky note was interfering with... the zone. In the words of Atwell via Rosenblatt, it's a case of efferent reading vs. aesthetic -- reading for knowledge (as in, from a textbook or article) vs. reading for pleasure (as in, from a novel, short story, or poem). Must the "fun" be gutted from reading with a coroner's report of "Death by Sticky Note"? Atwell thinks not.
And when you think about it, it's common sense. As teenagers, how many of us -- while we secretly continued to read THE OUTSIDERS by flashlight under the covers long after Mom had insisted we go to sleep -- remember pausing Ponyboy to write down a connection, detaining Dally to determine importance, or stopping the Socs to synthesize? Not this guy. In a world far away from the sheets and blanket that tented my head, I was in the zone, flipping pages without realizing they were pages, wondering if Johnny would pull through and live or if Dally would ever get to "see" stuff like sunrises. Isn't that what reading was supposed to be? Isn't that what made reading such a vicarious delight?
A satisfying return to sanity, THE READING ZONE came as a needed refresher for me and a reaffirmation of the vows I once took. Having read it, I feel as though I have strayed, become lost, and found my way back again.
For new readers to Atwell, this book will serve as a clarion call to the ramparts. It is an eloquent plea for pleasure reading, for kids, and for sanity in English instruction. In addition to practical "how to" type information, Atwell explains her philosophy with support and includes a special chapter addressing high school English teachers -- those keepers of ancient traditions that often perpetuate the sins of our pedagogical fathers. For anyone who remembers reading MOBY DICK chapter by chapter and pop quiz by pop quiz, it is a whale of an eye-opener.
As for workshop-related concerns, Atwell admits that she, too, struggled under the workload of carrying boxes of reading journals home each weekend. First she broke it up by having kids write to each other for 3 weeks, then her for 3 weeks. And now she's come to having kids write a "letter essay" every 3 weeks (the kids' letters can be staggered) ONLY about a book that they have completed. This reduces the number of letters and allows the kids a greater range of topics to address (Atwell provides prompts) as they look back. It also hones the literary criticism skills in such demand during high school and college.
Overall, the book serves as both long-awaited updating to IN THE MIDDLE and bracing read for teachers and parents who are new to Atwell's teachings and beliefs. As for me, it was proof that Thomas Wolfe was right. You CAN go home again... and I feel like I have. For that, I tip my metaphorical hat to Atwell. As is the case with hers, my workshop classroom will continue to be a work in progress, always built on a bedrock of principles based on choice.