Readers of the blog no doubt know that the title of this post refers to the general discussions taking place nationally around the ELA Common Core Standards – especially, in light of the firm words from David Coleman himself about what close reading does and does not mean.
But this brief post is prompted by a very specific recommendation Denise and I found in The Comprehension Toolkit by Harvey and Goudvis that we were discussing as part of ongoing curriculum work. I value the work of the authors, and their books and resources on literacy are justifiably in wide use. But the following quotes, we confess, do not sit well with us:
“I think it is much easier to pick out the important information when I think about what matters to me first and then think about what matters to the writer…. When we consider our own perspective first, it is easier to think about the writer’s overarching ideas.”
The annotation method proposed reinforces this idea:
“When I read something that I think is really important, I am going to mark it with a star, underline some of the important information, and then jot my thinking in the margin. And when I read something that the writer might think is important, I’ll mark it with a “W” for “Writer.” Sometimes I may agree with the writer and then code it with a star and a “W.”
Later in the lesson, when discussing the reactions of a particular student whose interests get in the way of her understanding of the text, the authors say –
“Lisa, a horse lover, could not get past the idea of horses running free…so it was not surprising that she thought that letting them run free was the most important notion in the article. However, that is clearly not the point of the article…The author is not taking a stand but simply reporting the information. Lisa is so passionate about her own ideas that she attributes them to the author as well. Readers have a habit of doing this.”
Then why encourage the habit? Why ask the reader to, first, pick out the information that matters to the reader instead of to the author? Why not start and frame the entire lesson by asking readers to figure out what the author is trying to say, exploring any personal reactions (and possible unhelpful projections) as part of the process?
The authors bend over backwards throughout this lesson (and many others) to elicit and honor the learner’s responses to what they read. But can’t we reasonably entertain the idea that there may be a cost to such attention in student understanding of the text? Might there then be a link between such an approach and the fact that released test items show repeatedly that only about half of our students can identify the main idea in a text selection? One need not love the Standards or David Coleman’s reading of King’s Letter to rightly worry about how close we are to getting kids to read closely.
PS: Some practical suggestions on how to teach and annotate for close reading will follow in the next blog post.
16 Responses
I read this, agreed with it completely and then kept looking for the next paragraph with your ideas on how to approach annotating in a manner that better helps kids identify the main idea in the text and work on the skill of close reading. However, your post just ended! How disappointing to see only your critisim of the strategy you discuss, without ideas on how to improve on them. How about demonstrating your common core writing skills with an arguement on how to tackle close reading more effectively? I would look forward to your insight on this.
I intend to do so – I thought I would do it in 2 phases.
Grant, a response from our LA teacher, Anna Hegdahl :
“absolutely agree with this! Close reading does notmean what the reader thinks is important–above what the author is trying to communicate. This sounds like reader-response criticism–which is a valid way to approach literary theory–but applied way too early. Reader response criticism should only happenafter you have understood what the author is trying to say, not before!”
John Stradwick http://www.mdis.net PRINCIPAL
We (teachers) make reading a chore instead of fun.
“Lisa, you get one of the things horses give us – a feeling of freedom.
Do you think the writer had any other ideas or feelings he wanted to let us know about?”
I like where you are going in re-directing this, but I think the question is not quite right because it assumes we are supposed to infer something about the author’s feelings – that may take us away from the text, too. How about: “From the text, was the author trying to get us to see things or believe a certain way? Or was the author merely describing the facts?”
I just recently tried to grab some of my favorite recent thinkers (Hank, Conrad-Curry, Boyles, Reilly, and Stuart) on the topic and a couple examples of close reading here: http://coreessentials.wordpress.com/2013/05/07/close-reading-and-the-common-core/ . Would love to read your interaction with them as well as the strong work by Odell Education in their modules, which are part of NY’s offerings on close reading (also linked in the close reading mashup).
Thanks for the link! As I said, I plan to follow up with some thoughts.
Respectfully, it is important that we remember that a “close reading” is a re-reading of the text. The first reading is, indeed, the student’s personal connection with the text as s/he seeks to build his or her own understanding. As perfectly expressed by Doug Fisher and Nancy Frey: “The primary objective of a close reading is to afford students with the opportunity to assimilate new textual information with their existing
background knowledge and prior experiences to expand their schema.” Kudos to Stephanie Harvey and Anne Goudvis for realizing that even our youngest readers possess the intellect to discern between their personal connection and the author’s purpose. Surely this is the deeper thinking required not only by close reading, but by true college and career readiness.
Janet Boyd Reed
Retired Principal, Prince George’s County Public Schools, Maryland
We agree in principle – reading requires re-reading and the building of understanding – but we seem to disagree about the first step. I question why we would start with asking the reader to say what is important to them first in a close reading’; I nowhere said we should not address personal meanings and connections. And nothing I am saying contradicts Fisher & Frey’s comments. We should honor and discuss personal meanings – as we work to understand the text. Surely, though, the goal of a close reading of the text demands that we try to suspend (potentially unhelpful) associations and meanings, to be sure we understand what the writer is up to; we focus foremost on the text, not the reader. This is especially important when we are reading controversial or strange texts.
Grant – forgive me for getting off topic here, but after reading your The Understanding By Design Guide to Creating High-Quality Units, I have a question I’m hoping you can help with with.
I have been creating essential questions for my literature class, and they have been coming out something like this:
A: “What was the genesis of the American Dream, and how has it been defined over time?”
Somehow, this just doesn’t seem correct to me. Granted, this type of question is about the ideas covered in American literature, but it isn’t about the literature itself. I could cover this question by showing a few movies, playing a few songs, and never cracking open a book. For an essential question about a literature class, this seems problematic. Here’s a re-write of the same question:
B: “In what works of literature can readers find the genesis of of the American Dream, and how have various authors defined that dream over the years?”
My question is: Am I correct in my assessment? In other words, is question B more inline for what I should be looking for in an essential question for a literature class than question A?
Thanks for your time.
John: This is a great question! (The one you are asking me!) There are (at least) two ways to think about it.
1) The first question, A, is overarching, and can be used by both you and the US history teacher; your topical version of the question can be Question B while his/her question could be “Historically, how has the American Dream shaped American history – and vice versa?”
2) Question A and B are really the same question. We can see that by a slight edit to Question A: “What was the genesis of the American Dream and how has it been defined in literature over time? (Or, a further edit: add “and popular culture” to the question. The virtue here is that you could perhaps get into some other interesting literature about the role of literature in popular culture.)
Obviously a focus on literature makes sense in a lit course. But beware – part of what we mean by “essential” is that it truly matters. By making the question too narrow and “academic” in the bad sense you wind up with fairly technical and potentially less rich inquiry. The joy of a great EQ is when the student starts to see connective possibilities because we encourage them. “Hey Mr. Wiggins, isn’t John Cougar Mellencamp discussing the American Dream in Jack and Diane and Little Pink House?” That’s not something we want to close off, is it?
I’m responding to your blog post as someone who has used The Comprehension Toolkit extensively, supported others in using it, and found it remarkably effective in helping kids figure out what’s important to pay attention to in complex text. I think it’s important to recognize that the lesson you reference, “Distinguish Your Thinking from the Author’s,” is one of many lessons in the Determining Importance cluster book, designed as a whole series of lessons to help kids get to the author’s big ideas. Harvey and Goudvis don’t pretend, as I think unfortunately too many commercial programs do, that it’s a simple thing to find the “main idea.” Instead they provide multiple avenues into this pursuit, one of which is noticing when our own thinking is or isn’t the same as the author’s. By teaching kids to acknowledge their reactions as they read, and sort out what is relevant or not to the author’s intentions, we call upon children to analyze their own thinking in relation to the text, and to be the ones, (not the teacher), who learn to say, “yeah, but here’s what’s really important…” I’ve heard these words many times when children turn and talk with each other in Toolkit classrooms, and they mirror the reason Harvey and Goudvis provide in the lesson introduction for their approach: “they [students] are more likely to recognize what the writer wants the reader to learn and remember.” (p. 45, The Comprehension Toolkit). Lessons like this one, addressing what kids really do, not only what they should do, have in my experience provided significant support for teachers to help kids overcome obstacles to comprehension.
I appreciate your reply! I think you are right to point out that this was one lesson in a series, and that their approach is a patient build-up. And, yes, they want to help kids distinguish their reactions from what the author wants to say. That’s why I praised their work in general terms in the post. However, I am still not convinced that their claim is correct – i.e. that their approach makes it so that students “are more likely to recognize what the writer wants the reader to learn and remember” by starting with student responses. That’s precisely the premise I am questioning (in a friendly spirit) since it strikes me as odd – why start there? Any more than what would start in science by asking kids to propose their own theory of gravity. You’ll see much more from me on this shortly. I have written a lengthy post on close reading that will get posted today.
PS: I find their script on importance in the text where they use Hakim’s History of US on Paul Revere to be unconvincing as well. Look closely at the script – the teacher proposes things that are ‘important’ without offering clear reasons or criteria for such importance. (I find the phrase “important to remember” to be particularly problematic.) I amy write on that issue, too.
Reading, a subject dear to me. Recently I was testing with my 6th grade class. We were te- No, they were testing- An aid was allowing anyone who wished to print passages to do so. I was not going for it as it had become a big game, and quite disruptive.The aid stated that if a student requests to print they must be allowed to do so. The testing coordinator agreed. The dist. coordinator agreed. However, the rules required my approval-based on need. I eventually called the state liason, the state -and on and on!!! Reading can be complicated- Like the time the reading specialist could not make heads or tales of the “best” anchor paper and scored it ones and twos, not 5s and 6s. Help.
I wish I could. All we can do is fight thoughtlessness whenever we find it. That’s what I try to do and have been trying to do for 40 years. It’s a Sisyphean task, isn’t it? Alas, it is our task, isn’t it?