For Louise M. Rosenblatt

For Louise M. Rosenblatt

Together in class

We read a story

It is the same story

Printed in every copy
Of every book
In the classroom

Yet—and this is what

I love about reading—

It is a slightly different tale

Inside every head

As the words on the page

Collide and combine
With the life experience
Of each person
Reading the story

©2009-Art Belliveau

The Man Who Planted Trees

Note: I wrote this during and after school yesterday, but didn't get the chance to post it.

Today’s journal entry is a question: Can one person change the world? Explain your answer.

I am interested to see what my students think. Do they believe it is possible for one person to affect world change? I know already that I believe it is. And that the fact has been demonstrably proven with both positive and negatives effects.

Take Khalid Sheikh Mohammed as an example of changing the world in a negative way. He was the mastermind behind the 9/11 terrorist attack on the US. That one man did change the world. Wars started. Prejudice and hatred increased. Terrorist attacks have risen. Tens of millions of the world’s poorest children starved to death as direct and indirect result of the economic upheavals that occurred.

On a more positive note, as one of my students pointed out, Gandhi was a person who affected a positive change upon the world. I elaborated by pointing out that the non-violent resistance was not only successful in India, but also in South Africa and the United States as well. Gandhi began his nonviolent resistance in South Africa and that legacy lasted. There was a change of government there that did not require civil war and millions upon millions dead. And Martin Luther King, Jr. adapted the lessons of Gandhi to the civil rights protests right here. Imagine the different way our society and the world would have reacted if the marchers in Birmingham had shot back at the police--or if the Freedom Riders came in armed and shooting.

Some students who are adamant that no one person can change the world, that doing that is up to God. Or that it was just plain impossible. It is a more than a little sad that their life experiences to date have trained them to nihilism. Some are very fatalistic. Some are full of anger. Some have already given up and are trying to live life without the benefit of hope.

Then I showed them the movie The Man Who Planted Trees, from the story by Jean Giono. It is an inspirational story of a man who plants trees, just because he felt the need to do so. And over the course of years he planted a forest. And very slowly and quietly, never seeking recognition, the forest grew. Most others thought that this was a miracle of nature.

To see the changes that this one man nurtured, through two world wars, is little short of miraculous. The animation of the film is breathtaking. It is simple yet profound, as befits the story it tells. I always find it to be an uplifting experience to watch this film.

Giono later wrote, after being asked many times, that the story was a work of fiction. But that should not deter us from believing the deeper message: one man can change the world. I point out the many thousands of people inspired by this story to plant trees. Millions of trees around the world have been planted by those who read the story. Or by others who were inspired by these people. One man, in this case Giono, has made a difference.

I love the power of writing.

My Basic Assumptions

I have started teaching for the next 14 weeks of the semester. A few years ago I heard a speaker who challenged us (a statewide group of teachers) to examine our basic assumptions about what we teach. I took that seriously and thought about my basic assumptions about writing and the teaching of writing. I came up with these:

1. Everyone has a need to communicate.
2. Everyone can write, maybe not as well as they would like, but they can do it.
3. Writing is a set of skills that can be taught.
4. Practice makes improvement (nobody's perfect).
5. Effort is required to improve.

These are the core beliefs I have about writing that I try to work from when I am teaching my students. I have even gone so far as to post them on the class website. In my introduction to the students today I went over these core beliefs with them. I received no major argumants or disagreements from anyone. And I have a feeling that the students I have right now would not be shy about disagreeing with me.

Anyway, I thought I would ask your views on this. What are your core beliefs, your basic assumptions about what you teach? Try to limit your time to a few minutes and go with your gut. I think it would be cool is something showed up on your list that you didn't realize was there.

Now What?

When surfing the web, I come across some sites that are just too interesting not too pass along. One of them is garfield minus garfield. What this site does is to take away all the other characters from the Garfield cartoon strip, except Jon Arbuckle. It makes for some interesting strips. Like this one:


How many times have I taught a lesson that I thought had gone so well, only to meet that exact reaction from one or more of my students? It scares me. No matter how well prepared I am, no matter how stellar a job I do, there will always be some kids who just don’t get it.

I think that is something that is overlooked in assessing how students learn: the connection with the teacher and the connection with the subject. Both are important, but the teacher/student connection is the most important. More times than I can count I have gotten a student another teacher despaired of that worked just fine for me. And, vice versa. Some students who would not put forth the slightest effort for me moved to another teacher and did exemplary work.

While this is frustrating, it is also a reason not to expect all teachers to teach the same way. The scripted programs that have proliferated since NCLB was passed into law are insultingly called “teacher-proof.” While they may show some short term gains in standardized test scores, that is what they are designed to do—teach students to take standardized tests. And if one student is not doing well with one teacher and moves to another doing the same scripted material, will he or she be any better off?

Teachers need to reclaim our individualism. I don’t teach all children equally well. That happens. I still try. But sometimes it just won’t click. As long as there are other teachers out there, teaching in their own individual ways, there is a chance that student will be able to learn from them.

If we go the cookie-cutter approach, well, kids ain’t cookie dough

This I Believe (About Teaching & Learning)

Way back in April, Bill Ferriter of The Tempered Radical tagged me with a meme. Here's the post with his response to the meme. The idea to write a "This I Believe" essay had been rattling around in my head for a long time and this challenge, tying it to my teaching philosophy, gave it the focus it needed to get done. Alas April and May are months that I get so swamped with school work that little else ever gets done. And then came June and vacation time. Then July and the wonderful world of Sun Belt. I finally got it written during an extended workshop with Sun Belt. Then I let some people read it to help me focus it a bit. Then I let it marinate and reread it.


For better or for worse, here is my take on the idea.


I believe that tossing my students into the deep end of an assignment is—sometimes—the best way of getting them to succeed.

When I was four years old, my family moved to South Florida, and my grandparents bought a house with an in-ground pool. I had gotten into it many times, sitting and standing on the steps with my parents or grandparents there to watch over me. I would jump in to them, or pull myself along the wall to them. If I had an inflatable tube around me, I would “swim.” But I wasn’t really swimming and I knew it. I was just pretending. It was fun, yes, but I wanted more.

One day my father and I were out by the pool and I again expressed my desire to learn how to swim—probably for the thousandth time that day. A little exasperated, my father asked me, “Do you really want to learn how to swim?”

In a flash I thought about all the times I had seen him and the other adults in the pool having a good time. I had been in there, imitating them, wanting to do what they were doing. As much fun as they appeared to be having, it still looked a little scary to me, though. At four, the backyard pool was enormous. But I really wanted to, so I answered, “Yes!”

My father said, “Okay,” picked me up, and tossed me in the middle of the deep end of the pool. In seconds I was swimming and dogpaddled my way to the other side.

While that might seem a little harsh, it wasn’t. It was a safe environment; my family was all around. There was support if I needed it; my father was ready to jump in and make sure I wouldn’t drown. I had shown some beginning skill at being in the water, so my father had an idea of what I could do, but knew I had to get over the anxiety of my first try; so, he tossed me in and I got over it like that.

Often in my classes, there are students who are hesitant to start writing. Students who are not sure that they can get off the steps and give up the inflatable tube of worksheets and heavily structured writing assignments. When told to just write, for many of them, it is the equivalent of being thrown in the deep end of the pool.

Sure, it can be a little scary, but we work to create a supportive environment. I am there (as often are other class members) if anyone has real difficulties they need help with—so they don’t wind up drowning in their own thoughts. We start with some more guided assignments first, giving us all an idea of what we are capable of, so I know how to better help them.

And they “swim.” Some produce little “dogpaddles” for days or weeks; others are diving in on their own in no time. And, just as swimmers differ in the way they enter the water, some always content to jump right in others acclimating themselves to the water a bit at a time, students who have found they can write enter assignments differently. Sometime they jump right in, sometimes slowly work themselves into an assignment a bit at a time.

Just as I couldn’t learn how to swim correctly before being exposed to it, before getting a chance to try it out on my own, so my students won’t learn to write any better unless they get to read good examples, talk and write about them, and get a chance to write in a stress-free environment, like a journal.

Eventually I was taught that some of what I was doing in the water wasn’t as effective as it could be. I was shown ways to improve my kicks and taught different strokes. But I spent days and weeks of summer in pools by myself, swimming as I wanted and learning new and better ways on my own as well. Sometimes asking for help, sometimes not.

In the classroom mistakes can be dealt with and the writing can be improved. They learn and practice better usage, different types of writing, different ways of getting from here to there in the ocean of words. More importantly by writing they learn how to help themselves improve. Sometimes they ask for help, sometimes they don’t. They dive more deeply on their own. Swim more freely.

Sometimes they still need to be pushed a little to get them move to a deeper level they are capable of. Sometimes they need to see the strokes performed by one who knows how to do it—by someone who is in there swimming with them. And sometimes they just need to be set free to swim as they please and have a little fun. When they are doing that, they’ve learned the most important lesson I can teach them.


Now I will tag five people with the meme and see what they think:

Whit at both hands
Ted at CyberEnglish
Carla at The English Teacher Blog
Dawn at The Polliwog Journal
Andrew at “the Pierian spring” - ramblings of an English teacher

And, as always, I would be grateful to anyone who chooses to share what they think in the comments section.