We are nearing the end of the school year, so last week I panicked. I have to get the end-of-the-year narrative writing done for my SLT (Student Learning Target). I’m calmer now because yesterday I realized while working with my second grader that there has been growth, even while I wasn’t really paying attention. He completely filled one page and has more to say.
My students write a Slice of Life every week. They post on a blog site formerly known as Kidblog, now Fanschool. This weekly practice is graded, but the rubric is rather basic. More of a get-‘er-done checklist rather than anything meticulous. I forgot that the practice of writing weekly creates improvement.
Yesterday I heard my older students claiming word counts.
“I wrote 500 words!”
“I can top that easily!”
These claims were not so much competitive as they were evidence that I had nothing to worry about. They’ve learned to elaborate, to use transitions, to add dialogue, to end with a satisfying conclusion, not because I have told them to, but because that is what writers do.
Like the gladiolus my friend dropped off at my back door, their long stem of learning has blossomed and continues to grow. I am proud to be the holder of the blooming flowers. I must’ve done something good.
Students
bloom when
you let them
be the flowers they
Choose.
Reflections on the Teche 
Beautiful flower, beautiful to realize how your students have grown.
Three cheers for the growth that steady practice brings, especially when you’re not paying attention! As glorious as gladiolas!
Your elfchen says it all – the importance of choice we learned so long ago. Donald Graves would be proud.
I thought of that! I won the Donald Graves award in 2014. He’s still with me!
wonderful!
Lovely comparison between your students and the gladious! Lovely poem, too! Congrats on seeing growth as we approach the end of another school year.
Yes, like the almost hidden buds along the gladiolus stem, your students have stored up growth and potential and may it all open up in blooms! Thanks for reminding teachers to keep faith and to celebrate growth.
A beautiful and encouraging belief for all of us, actually—I can see that when I have no ‘shoulds’ and simply write on a daily basis, things change—not always, but often, for the better.
That elfchen captures so much! I always think your students are so fortunate to have you. You are truly a master gardener in the classroom–no wonder the flowers are blooming!
Margaret, this whole post is like a spoon of hope, especially this paragraph: “These claims were not so much competitive as they were evidence that I had nothing to worry about. They’ve learned to elaborate, to use transitions, to add dialogue, to end with a satisfying conclusion, not because I have told them to, but because that is what writers do.”
You’ve captured a wish I think so many of us share – that we’re supporting kids in leading writerly lives of joy, of sharing, of positivity, of confidence. Thank you for the modeling and the reminder of what really does matter.