Frida Kahlo, Pablo Neruda and Magical Realism: High Expectations and Year 6 Writing

In my pupils’ dreams I am a mutant robot who chases them.

After 12 years in teaching, yesterday was a first for me. Three children read their writing aloud to the class and each one moved me to tears. Now I’ve cried before: emotional assemblies, fantastic examples of progress through perseverance, hearing about the early life experiences of the children (not to mention that class I had as an NQT who brought on tears more bitter in taste) but this was different: it was the realisation that these 10 and 11 year olds were real authors, who have the power to inspire emotions in their readers.

I have to say I am immensely proud of the children, of my planning team, who came up with most of the ideas, and with myself for not making a mess of the delivery of those plans.

So this article is a description and reflection on this unit of learning, what made it successful, what could be improved and how the conditions for its creation could be recreated. Some of my colleagues have expressed concerns about how practical it is to teach from a novel, so hopefully there are some simple takeaways here to help anyone planning from the starting point of a novel.

The unit itself developed quite organically from an initial idea around the book The Dreamer by Pam Munoz Ryan. We chose the book after reading Doug Lemov’s Reading Reconsidered because we wanted a text which introduced a complex narrative form. And, since we were studying South America, this book’s use of magical realism to tell the story of Pablo Neruda’s childhood seemed perfect.

The first few weeks were dedicated to explicit instruction of vocabulary and a variety of strategies which might come under Pie Corbett’s umbrella term ‘reading as readers’: preparing passages for reading with expression, ‘control the game’, close reading, and oral and written responses to reading.

We have realised that when it comes to explicit vocabulary teaching three words is an ideal number. The inspiration for this step came from ‘Bringing Words to Life, Second Edition: Robust Vocabulary Instruction’ by Isabel Beck and Margaret Keown. In this book, the authors suggest a maximum of six words for effective instruction but I prefer fewer (3 or 4) as this allows for less time to be spent on this section of the learning and more opportunities to engage with the reading. The children enjoy encountering the words they have been rehearsing in a ‘real’ text and benefit from advancing the story; it takes a lot of reading to get through a novel and you need to read at least some during each lesson. If you haven’t read the book above, or at least the summary in Reading Reconsidered, then really you should – and while you’re at it follow @Bedr0ckLearning on Twitter for free resources.

However for an extremely simplified overview:

  1. Pick phase two words (advanced words which have high utility across various domains – as opposed to technical vocabulary – phase 3 – or words used widely in spoken language – phase 1)

  2. Using detailed and child friendly explanations, tell children the meaning, don’t ask (you want the children to be thinking about correct usage and meaning not inventing plausible synonyms).

  3. Use creative and engaging activities which encourage children to play with the word use (e.g. finding synonyms and antonyms, inventing sentences, word matching, using images, cloze procedure, oral games etc.)

Here is a simple vocabulary matching activity, which we backed up with lots of oral practice. We spent some time as a planning team creating child-friendly explanations and, though I wouldn’t normally print them out for children, it was a useful activity for us teachers.

We also spent some time close reading the text and spent some time modelling text marking. I often shared my copy with my text marks, trying to be as explicit as possible with the text marking process. You can see an example here.

This was the first time we had introduced text marking to the pupils in this way and next year I would like to investigate how to codify text marking a little more and also make sure we plan wider opportunities to practice this important skill. This year our main success criteria for text marking was ‘don’t underline if you don’t have anything to say about it’ (See Reading Reconsidered by Doug Lemov).

The Dreamer is a masterful piece of work, full of carefully chosen vocabulary and delicate yet precise narrative devices. The more we read, the more we fell in love with it. Many of the ‘Phase Two’ words (see Beck and Keown) repeat throughout the book allowing children to recall previously learnt vocabulary. Generally the level of challenge on offer was ideal for the pupils: even the best readers were stretched somewhat.

After one read, we were slightly concerned whether The Dreamer would engage the children but we couldn’t have been more wrong. On finishing the final page there was a chorus of, “Owww!” And, “That was the best book… EVER!”

My main tip for securing pupil engagement over the course of a novel is to spend longer analysing the key elements at the start of the story: character, setting etc. Then, as the plot develops, gradually increase the amount of reading and reduce the number of interruptions. Helping children understand the context at the start is crucial but later, like all of us, they will want to finish the book. And whereas at the start you might look at more factual or thematic issues (e.g. let’s look at the relationships between the characters), later interruptions to the story line should be more reverential in tone (e.g. I have to stop you there: can you see what the author has done with her word choices! Isn’t that such a careful and thoughtful use of language?) This will pay back dividends later when you are writing. I am currently reading Tom Sherrington’s The Learning Rainforest and he explains more clearly than I can, how this passion for the text influences pupils.

We then moved into the writing phase. Loosely following the imitate, innovate, independent application model described by Pie Corbett, we decided to write a whole class Magical Realist Biography so we reread sections of Pam Munoz Ryan’s book with a more authorial eye allowing pupils to ‘copy and paste’ her style before taking more creative control.

In art we were studying Frida Kahlo and one of my colleagues noted how many crossover themes there were between her life and those explored in The Dreamer: family, identity, independence, illness, the jungle, indigenous rights, machismo, magical realism etc. (the children came up with even more ideas). Eventually we put dos y dos together and began to write Magical Realist Biographies of Frida’s life.

Using the fantastically illustrated book Frida Kahlo by Isabel Sanchez Vegara in the Little People Big Dreams collection we planned an outline together. (I also employed one of my favourite ‘hacks’ for enhancing subject knowledge by listening to Radio 4’s In Our Time which has an episode dedicated to Frida).

We made a deliberate decision to pitch this writing as high as possible. We had many classroom discussions around the decisions we might make as authors: using symbolism, foreshadowing, Chekhov’s gun, making sure our imagery was consistent, how to control pace and how to elicit emotional responses in our readers. Much credit should go to the year 5 team for sending us such grammatically literate writers, but we had also been drilling the children all year on the non-negotiables: understanding of the subject and the verb, which leads to an understanding of main and subordinate clauses; all the punctuation knowledge and sound spelling strategies. This frees the children up to devote working memory to higher order thinking (e.g. how can I use punctuation to create the effect that time is moving very quickly?)

Using various levels of support; such as Guided Writing, Slow Writing and after reading exemplars; we wrote each chapter against success criteria (the children demanded that each chapter be themed around a colour and written on coloured paper!) This is at a time in the year when many year 6s have abandoned success criteria altogether, fearing the lack of ‘independent’ work. But two points are important here: firstly you have to teach children how to write before they can achieve and secondly there is much ‘independent application’ that can be found in children’s work even after something as closely controlled as slow writing (see David Didau or The Literacy Shed’s DADWAIVERS). For example if you modelled semi-colons but the children used dashes for parentheses then this demonstrates that the child can independently use parentheses.

For anyone who has read The Dreamer, you can see how this young writer has adopted elements of Pam Munoz Ryan’s style.

The writing they produced was of a high standard but we now needed the children to independently produce an extended piece of magical realist writing. So we asked them to think about their own dreams. What would they like to be when they were older? How would they get there? Each child broke down the journey and planned it out. Many picked up on the idea that the challenges you face in life and how you overcome them are the most interesting story to tell.

Being asked to write a fictional biography about yourself but in the third person and from the perspective of the future so in the past tense is a challenge. However, the children seemed freed by the writing. Maybe the fact they could change details at will allowed them to detach. Maybe the third person narrative perspective helped too. For some the writing felt like therapy and they told utterly compelling stories about real tragedy: from the death of a beloved pet to divorce to losing a parent. Each time the brief to write magical realism, gave the stories a poetic freedom and the sense of disorientation was shared between protagonist and reader.

One child, inspired by the interweaving of poem and narrative in The Dreamer, wrote the following words, which I have typed to preserve their anonymity:

[The arguing] happened every time Father came for three years. Then, something happened. No-one could quite put a finger on it. Or at least in front of the children. Father stopped contacting them. He never came. They had no idea where he was or what he was doing.

A small, ever moving, ever growing, ever shrinking lifeform slowly orbited a larger ever moving, ever growing, ever shrinking lifeform. Slowly the invisible bond between them broke. The first lifeform spiralled out of control. Ever moving, ever growing, ever shrinking, ever changing.

The fact that they wrote these words knowing I would read them gave me a huge sense of privilege and I hope, once they are published (alongside their beautiful Frida Kahlo style self portraits) they will be an item to cherish for many years to come.

We could improve: we only really explicitly taught vocabulary at the reading phase which means they had four weeks without. I would like to reflect on how well we taught the ‘writing for reading’ lessons too. However overall we feel it was highly successful.

It will certainly be a hard unit to follow. Our next project: using the musical West Side Story as our ‘text’. The key to successful planning, I am learning, is firstly to turn off your internal filter; no matter how much you think, ‘no that won’t work’ or ‘that’s too ambitious’ try to work through the idea until you are all agreed that it will work or to shelve it for now. And secondly, base the learning journey on some well grounded and solidly understood pedagogic principles and, when planning, focus as much of the conversation on the ‘why’ as you can rather than simply discussing the ‘how’.

If you would like more information, or to look at our plans or resources, just DM me: Mr S (@nosnomolas) or look at this link here

 

Abandoning the Maths Stream 

Implementing a move away from setting.

I don’t know the context in UK primary schools, but if someone has the data it would be very interesting to read. My perception is that most primary schools have abandoned setting. If you haven’t, I would like to persuade you to think about it. 

Even though my school has been teaching in sets for over a decade and a previous attempt to remove sets ended in failure, a couple of articles on the EEF toolkit into Mastery Maths and streaming inspired us to take a fresh look at the way we taught maths. 

Before we began, as a three form entry junior school, we had 3 streamed classes: a larger ‘Higher Attaining’ class with one teacher, a ‘Middle’ grouping with one teacher and TA and a smaller third ‘Lower Attaining’ Group with an adult to child ratio of 6:1. 

The higher group would work through the curriculum more quickly and then work on problem solving activities and reasoning, though often they would attempt elements of the following years’ curriculum. The lowest group would work through the curriculum following the same pace as the higher groups, focussing more on fluency. In reality they might not meet all the objectives in the set time before having to move on.

As a Year 3 team we knew where we wanted to go: mastery-style teaching for the whole class. I will provide practical examples of how this was achieved and resources and links in the next post. 

Despite this clarity of objective, actually achieving this was harder than it first seemed. There were a wide range of stakeholders who were, at least in some respect, resistant to change: 

  • Teachers (there was a general perception held by most, including myself, that mixed ability = harder work for teachers.)
  • Leadership Team
  • Pupils
  • Parents

    Luckily all these groups had a shared main concern: efficacy. 

    Rationale

    Attainment in our school is and always has been strong. Progress is less impressive and we felt that certain groups of children could do better. Namely pupil premium and low prior attainment groups. 

    At one time, our Year 6s sat the level 6 tests and scored highly but the whole feel of the 2014 curriculum is one of ‘mastery’ and so this high attainment stream seems less in keeping with current values. 

    Furthermore, current research seems to back up this approach. 

    Implementation

    Slow and steady wins the race. We were making changes that we believed would benefit the pupils in the long run so a hasty and badly managed plan could have been disastrous. 

    We decided to run a trial. We kept our classes for a properties of shape unit, planned together and ran a pupil survey following this. Teachers and pupils were surprised how much they enjoyed the experience and the leadership team were comfortable with a short term trial. One of the first things we noticed was how the more confident learners from the bottom two groups were really motivated and surprised us with their learning outcomes. 

    Following this success we repeated our trial with a trickier unit (from a planning perspective) on place value. Pupils were delighted and I remember my class cheering when I told them it was ‘class maths’. Although some of the pupils from our top set told us they preferred the status of learning in that group. 

    At the start of this year we rolled it out to our new starters. We had learnt some valuable lessons from our trials but it was still challenging and our learning curve was steep. However some advantages were immediately apparent:

    1. Timetabling

    Teachers are free to change the time of maths to suit their needs. In the past any changes due to trips or special events etc. would lead to either cancelling maths or a complicated rescheduling. Now we just squeeze in an afternoon maths or, if we’re feeling particularly cruel, double maths instead.

    2. Catch up sessions 

    We were able to build in catch up sessions. Sets meant that misconceptions identified at the end of a lesson or in books would have to wait to the following day and then would take learning time from everyone even if only a small group needed it. 

    Now, by blocking out 15 minutes of the afternoon timetable for a whole class ‘Recall’ activity, class teachers and/or our team HLTA can run same day catch up sessions with children identified in the morning lesson. 

    3. Knowing your learners

    There is a lot to be said about strong relationships at primary level. I know my class far better than I ever knew my maths set. I understand when they need a push and when they need encouragement. This year for the first time ever, I am not dreading maths reports because I feel I know all of my children’s mathematical capability as well as I do their writing. Perhaps I was poor at teaching my maths set but it is definitely easier for me now. 

    Furthermore, I see their parents daily, and am able to feedback targets and successes much more easily than in maths sets, where you might not meet the parents until parents’ evening in February. 

    4. High Ceiling

    It is a challenge to make sure that all learners are engaged and challenged but once you get it right those challenges are open to all learners. 

    I have noticed in my class a group of girls who, given their baseline assessment scores, would have been in the middle set, who now regularly take on the reasoning and problem solving challenges and demonstrating a real love of mathematics. 

    5. High expectations

    Every single member of the class is now expected to work on the year 3 curriculum. In the past we have assessed some against the year 2 curriculum. Not so now. This fervent belief that all can make it has been revelationary for my practice. 

    However it won’t just happen by magic; those children who struggle with maths are always playing catch-up and they need a boost: 

    • We provide bi-weekly small group maths interventions, delivered by TAs, based on this highly structured and systematic scheme of work called the Mathematics Enhancement Programme. 
    • We have begun regular recall sessions, designed as tests which aim to revisit areas of the curriculum taught last week, last month and last term which help to embed concepts in the long term memory
    • We have weekly sessions teaching the key instant recall facts such as number bonds and times tables as well as arithmetic skills. 
    • Teaching assistants are well drilled to provide limited support to key individuals, usually focussing attention, breaking down instructions, re-explaining taught content and organising learning resources. They are not focussed on output but on learning. 

    Outcomes 

    All teachers feel their maths teaching has improved. The maths classroom is more dynamic, planning is shared and teaching responsibilities are equitable. 

    Our lowest attainers have grown in confidence and fewer children describe themselves as ‘good’ or ‘bad’ at maths. Like anything else, if they work hard they can achieve. 

    Improvement in the data is more difficult to judge. Scores are better this year, particularly for number and calculations, but there are huge problems attributing this to one factor. In fact it’s impossible. What can be said however, is that the overall impact of this raft of initiatives has been positive. 

    Notably, the confidence level of our lowest prior attainment group is greatly improved and I am convinced this is at least in part due to removing the stigma of the bottom set and the tireless work of the team to help these children diminish the difference. 

    Next Steps 

    We want to see the kind of dramatic boosts in attainment seen on some of the research studies as outlined by the EEF. Therefore we will be trying to embed AfL assessment in a more systematic way, using tests to decide when the class moves on. 

    We are also experimenting with better ways of running our ‘Recall’ sessions. One idea is to standardise the format so children know what to do automatically and maximise the time spent on retrieving their prior learning. 

    Other teams have already taken on aspects of this approach and in my new role as maths subject lead I will be looking to inspire other year groups to ditch streaming as a concept. 

    Would love to hear any thoughts on what worked well for you or other ways in which we might maximise our impact. It would also be fascinating to hear from KS2 teachers who are persevering with sets and their experiences and reasoning. 

    The Why and How of the Pen Licence

    This was not the blog post I expected to write. I have lofty hopes of my blog being inspirational and relevant and important (sad, I know). 

    Then I read this impassioned piece on pen licences. Do I want to get dragged into the tedious minor side shows like pen licence debates? Well no, but if you are a 7 year old then this topic is anything but irrelevant. And if as primary school teachers we don’t recognise that, we risk seriously harming the confidence of those in our care.

    But I also believe that pen licences can be both justified and effective.

    The Why:

    1. Handwriting Matters

    Isn’t this all just a lot of fuss about a stupid piece of plastic? I don’t believe so. Handwriting is fundamental to every writing skill: spelling, grammar, punctuation and composition. Helping your pupils reach a high standard and a quick speed of handwriting will have dramatic impact on their progress and attainment. Do we deny some children this opportunity because we are too afraid to tell them they need to get better? Do we agree with them that it would be too hard for them to achieve a neat cursive style? That’s not why I became a teacher.

    2. Pen licences provide excellent motivation

    As soon as the first few are awarded, the rest of the class are hooked. They see what they want and it is a powerful tool to help teachers. But the handwriting ability of every child is ultimately the teacher’s responsibility. 

    For some children this nudge of competition is enough to focus their minds and they quickly neaten up. For many others, extra practice and teaching is required. To allow a child to languish on their own would be irresponsible and a dereliction of duties. Some pupils need fine motor work, others a decent pencil grip. Some with specific impairments may need more appropriate goal posts. The most effective tool, though, is more teaching and more practice.

    So if we can agree that handwriting is important and pen licences are a powerful motivator then how can we ensure that the valid criticisms raised by @Xris32 in his blog are mitigated?

    The How:

    1. Create a culture where hard work is expected and rewarded. 

    As teachers we must create a culture where children know that success is hard work. I have exceptionally high standards of my pupils and they know it. They also know that I really believe they can all reach those standards. Often I believe this before they do as I recall from a conversation with an independent minded year 3 child at the start of this year. (I have shown an image of her first and most recent piece of work for me)

    Independent work in September

    “I don’t do joined up handwriting!” she told me firmly.
    “You will by the end of the year.”

    “I think you’ll find I won’t” she replied.

    I did laugh and I also enjoyed reminding her of this when the head of literacy told her today that her handwriting was “beautiful”

    30 minutes independent writing in May

    Yes the first pen licences are handed out to the lucky few, who can already join and keep their writing on the line. Yes they are singled out. Why not? Is it purely innate ability that gives them the advantage? Perhaps in a few cases, but surely many of these children have practised more than those who don’t write accurately. They deserve their moment of fame.
    In PE I would expect some children to throw, run, jump, bat further and faster than others. During shared writing I may take more suggestions from those with superior vocabularies. We are not all alike and, as the P4C activity  The Fairest Teacher of Them All   demonstrates, treating us as such would be ludicrous.

    An important yet difficult truth about life is that some of us need more practice than others in certain areas. The alternative is to say that we don’t have high expectations of all our children.

    I reinforce these messages daily. In every lesson. In every subject. And if you do that for a year, it pays off.

    There are some other helpful rules that we have developed to help:

    1. Teach handwriting systematically and give feedback daily.
    2. Children with a physical impairments should have specifically adapted arrangements that still retain appropriate challenge. 
    3. Make sure your ALL children get theirs and quick. You need to use pen to learn how to write with it. We get all our children onto pen in their first year of school (Year 3)
    4. Sometimes pen is neater, particularly with ‘white-knuckle pen grippers’
    5. Remove pen licences temporarily if children’s attention to detail dips.
    6. Celebrate those that work hard to improve, especially those who have had to put extra work in.
    7. Know your children and understand what makes them tick. Listen to their parents.
    8. It doesn’t need to be a physical laminated award with a photo on twitter. Well done. You deserved it is enough.

    Thanks again to @Xris32 for writing a fantastic article which really made me examine my beliefs and values. It is always useful to do that and to be open to a change of opinion. But this time I am sticking to my guns: do let me know what you think.

    Growth Mindset: A Cautionary Tale

    Why writing this blog may just help me to get a little bit better at teaching each and every day

    I think it might have been Wimpy. It wasn’t 1985 as you might expect, but actually 2003. My dad refused to visit MacDonalds because they don’t give you cutlery. The details are hazy but I’ll never forget the conversation.

    “Dad, I’ve decided to train to be a primary school teacher”

    “Really!? I don’t think you’d be very good at that.”

    Possibly not the most supportive parenting, but the thing was, he was right and I knew it. Fresh out of Uni, I was arrogant, immature, selfish, hated to sleep and loved to party. One of the key reasons I had chosen this career path was a recognition that it would challenge me to the very core. I believed (and I think, eventually, I was right) that if I succeeded, I would be a happier, healthier and more rounded individual. I’d had a taste of office life and needed to put as much distance as possible between me and the desk.

    I wanted desperately to captivate young minds the way I had been inspired by my idiosyncratic,  eccentric (and sometimes completely loopy) junior school teachers.

    But this mix of desperation to succeed, less than ideal lifestyle and nagging self doubt made for a tricky start. Well. Actually, I made a terrific start. My initial observations brought high praise. My confidence was sky-high.

    And that was when it all went wrong. I thought to myself, “I am good at this. In fact I’m great!”

    With hindsight, it would be untrue to say that I didn’t develop as a teacher. I improved greatly, but I was quick to become defensive; my threshold for criticism so low that any negative message, no matter how important, brought out a surly response.  When things went wrong I looked for external causes, but success meant I felt vindicated and ‘talented’, rather than looking carefully for the cause of the success or interrogating whether the success was really there. I began to compete with my colleagues and failed to learn as much as I could from their vast expertise.

    And then Carol Dweck’s Growth Mindset was introduced to me. Reflecting back on my time at school (where innate talent was highly regarded and seen as an almost magical bestowal of gifts to the lucky few) and then my career to date, these idea’s were a revelation. Suddenly, I saw the error of my ways and I began afresh. My career mission quickly evolved into a yearning for constant and regular improvement. Over time this self-realisation has helped me to lead a much less stressful existence as nagging parent emails, negative observation feedback, that moaning “uuuuurrrhhhh” noise children make when they see what lesson is on the timetable and the ‘rolling eyes of doom’ during a staff meeting – all of these things -are an opportunity to reflect and ultimately get better.

    At lot of material is available on using growth mindset in the classroom and I have my own strategies for promoting it (none of which by the way are a beautiful display entitled ‘What Growth Mindset Looks Like’ and a laminated picture of a brain), but it is its application for my teaching practice that has really inspired me.

    And this is what led me to this point. I became a Change Junky. A frenzied addict constantly craving Kaizen. I want to improve on yesterday’s me just a little bit every day (apart from Friday’s when I mostly just want to go to the pub).

    Most teachers I meet seem to have arrived at this point with ease, without needing to even have heard of Carol Dweck (although, if they haven’t, they must have been teaching in a very isolated mountain school in Outer Mongolia) but just in case there are a few out there with whom my early teacher experiences resonate, here are my top tips for how developing a growth mindset for school professionals:

    1. The next time someone criticises you, (no matter how much you need to grit your teeth) welcome this as a learning opportunity. Possibly because you can change your behaviour, or at the very least it will be an opportunity to find out why they think the way they do.
    2. Constantly seek out feedback from others.
    3. Demonstrate to others you are open to feedback by embodying a learning mentality, sharing success as well as failure.
    4. Be brave and push yourself past your comfort zone. You will learn a lot.
    5. Practise skills deliberately and beyond mere capability until they become second nature.
    6. Engage in critical professional dialogue with colleagues so you can learn from the success and failure of others too.
    7. Inform your practice with a bit of data and a lot of good relationships with the children.

    Through this blog I hope to list and describe the many and varied innovations and tweaks that my team and I regularly make.  For better or worse, I’d like to highlight the changes in practice I am regularly making, allowing others to learn from that experience, whilst also giving me the opportunity to reflect meaningfully on those changes.