The Beast, Big Problems, and Tiny Pieces of Solutions

I was ten the first time I went on The Beast.  At Kings Island amusement park in Ohio, the Beast was a modern engineering marvel.  All the signs shouted its praises as you followed the beast paw prints painted on the pathway.  

Longest roller coaster in the world! 
The fastest! 
The tallest! 
The longest drop! 
Three tunnels that go underground! 
A 135-foot drop that goes directly into an underground tunnel! 


The ride lasted a record-setting 4 minutes and ten seconds, which seemed like an eternity while the ride was going and made the hours-long wait in line well worth it.  The Beast is a wooden rollercoaster, so you never go upside down, but it didn't need an inclined loop or a corkscrew to be the best.  

Photo Credit: http://top10ofe.blogspot.com/2015/06/
top-10-longest-roller-coasters-usa-uae-japan-uk.html

When the ride was over, I would stand there, legs trembling, dazed, trying to catch my breath and gather my bearings. Then, without fail, I would run right back to the end of the line to do it all over again.   

That old sense of wonder, of being completely overcome, hit me a few days ago as I stood in front of an elevator door, suitcase by my side, waiting to check out of a hotel and return to my life.  I wanted to return--I missed my husband and kids--but I also wanted to, in a sense, run back to the beginning of the line.

I was leaving the Literacy Research Association conference where I had spent the past four days.  I realized that I simply did not want to leave, but I also was eager to get home and get to work. In the elevator ride, I thought, as I had a dozen times over the past 4 days, that I wasn't sure what "get to work" even meant.  

After spending four days listening to experts in all areas of the field of literacy, I had ideas, inspiration, questions, and concerns.

It was reassuring to sit in sessions where researchers were grappling with the same things I struggle with.  How to get people to see the validity of graphic novels? How do I help my vulnerable students who are at risk of giving up? How do I help students to gain access to books and materials that reflect their lives, their experiences, their struggles, and dreams? How do I support teachers as they build literacy skills in their classrooms?

The same issues kept coming up.
Trauma
Socioeconomic differences
Access
Digital literacy
Graphic novels
Student engagement
Motivation
Perserverance
Representation
Teacher preparation

These ideas are the ones that keep me awake at night, in the most literal sense. 

Yes, I do actually lose sleep over how to get funding for my libraries so I can get the books my kids need. 

I struggle with knowing which books my students need in their lives. 

I grieve over those students who have given up on reading as boring or too hard or something that other people do. 

I get angry about the absolute unfairness of a system that again and again privileges those from higher socioeconomic levels and works against my students who don't come from such bounty. 

I am crushed under the trauma, loss, and grief that my students (and, at times, my colleagues) are faced with. 

And here was a conference full of people who were all striving to solve the same issues that I wrestled with. 

But here's the thing, I don't have any answers. Not a single one. 

My area of interest is how students develop their sense of self as a reader and how that affects their independent reading choices.  Specifically, I want to know how the library can intervene, boosting that sense of reading self-concept, especially for middle and high school students. 

And I have no idea.  

And that is really, really disheartening.  To know that so many great minds for so many years have wrestled with the same issues, and have not come up with anything. 

But looking back at the research conference, that isn't how to tackle this problem.  

The Beast is the Longest! Fastest! Tallest!  But what do I remember about it?  There was the one turn that happened inside one of the tunnels where the track was tilted at an angle.  It felt like if you stuck your hand out just an inch, you might be able to touch the wall.  Could you?  I seriously doubt it.  But now, 35 years later, I can recall that one turn. 

Can I convince all of my teachers and all of my parents and all of my administrators that graphic novels are "real books" and are valuable, powerful tools for many readers?  

No.  But I went to one study group where one researcher talked about her semester-long study where pre-service teachers are taught about graphic novels, the elements a writer or illustrator can use, the complexity, the richness. Then they spent the semester making one of their own in connection with a text they read. The researcher brought samples of the work they produced and it was stunning. The illustrations, the use of blank space, the use of speech bubbles and borders and colors. Those teachers, when they become teachers, would not need convincing.  
Because of one class out of dozens that prepare them, they will bring their students into the library without a preconceived bias against graphic novels. 

That one turn in the Beast still grips my heart, and that one literacy experience might change their perceptions and those of the students they teach for years to come. 

I have had the idea of educator trauma on my mind a lot lately.  I have colleagues who have gone through loss, divorce, abuse, financial ruin, illness, and family breakdown, but they keep on teaching.  I grieve for them and wonder how I can help to build them up.  How can this huge problem be solved? 

I can still viscerally recall the feeling of sitting in the car of the Beast and feeling the safety bar snap forward to keep you contained.  Again, it was a wooden coaster and didn't go upside down, so I am not sure how much danger a passenger was ever really in, but the security of that safety bar firmly snapped in place affected the entire ride. 

One researcher presented on teachers struggling with grief and how it affects them, their lives, and their work.  Shining that light on something we know about but refuse to talk about was empowering. I had to wipe away tears as she talked about her research and I thought about my own colleagues and friends. 

It is not possible to solve the issue of trauma and secondary trauma in educators.  But someone is taking one small piece, looking at it, studying it, and seeing what can be done.  Just like that bar that held me in place was only one piece of a much larger safety mechanism and scheme, this research is one important piece of a vast area of concern, and I found myself comforted that someone was actually looking at it.

Which brought me back to me.  I have a huge concern I want to look at.  A huge "problem" I want to "solve."  But if the conference showed me anything, it is that this way of thinking is defeatist and simply not helpful.  People have been trying to get students to read independently for fun for over a century.  Why would I think I can solve that now?  But what I can do is look at a small piece of that issue.  Maybe not solve it, but look at it. Shed some light. Bring some awareness.  Then someone else, using what I discover might be able to find another piece.  Then, piece by piece, plans can be made, interventions designed, changes implemented. 

One board at a time, they built the Beast.  One piece of research at a time, students can be empowered to read. 

As tempting as it was each time to simply get back in line for another ride on the Beast, doing that made me miss all that Kings Island had to offer.   

So, while I look forward to future conferences, I am OK to "get to work" trying to think about, question, study, and examine the issues that I am concerned about. There is a lot of work to be done, and I am excited that I get to be one of the people who gets to do it. 

Vessels

A few days ago, I was reading The Toll, book 3 of the Arc of the Scythe by Neal Schusterman. In addition to being unbelievably good and doing some of the best work of being a book three that ties up a trilogy, it is just a great great story.  

At one point, (I will try to be as non-spoiler as possible), two characters are discussing a third who has done some unbelievably horrific things.  parson A says the baddy is beyond forgiveness. Person B is unsure.  Pern A replies with a comment on just how horrible the baddy has been and then Person B says this: 

People are vessels.  They hold whatever is poured into them.

I actually went back to reread the passage.  

Then I wrote it down. 

Then I spent the next days thinking about it, this idea, and all it implies. 

I thought about it as a parent: my children hold what I pour into them. My love, my frustration, my effort and time, my criticism.  They are vessels. 

Then I thought about my other kids: my students. (Since they are my kids too). What is poured into them, for better or worse, is what they bring with them the next day. It is what shapes the decisions they make, the homework they do, the emotions they carry.  And it is entirely outside of their control.  Someone else is doing the pouring, the students are only the vessels. 

Which then made me think about the teachers.  We pour. We pour our hopes and help and knowledge into kids, but also our frustrations and fears and stress, no matter how hard we try not to.  

But we are also vessels. 
We get poured into by parents. 
And other teachers. 
And administrators.
And board members. 
And the media. 
And school shooters. 
And the department of education.
And the state board of education. 
And the public. 

So educators, are vessels that hold what is poured into us.  
The criticism. 
The contempt. 
The blame. 
The "summers off" comments. 
The implications of shirked duties and laziness. 
The being treated like incompetent fools instead of trained professionals. 
The micromanaging. 
The public comments. The private comments. The Facebook comments. 

And we have to take all of it, and set it aside and do our jobs anyway. And be conscious that we pour only the good into our students.

It is a good thing that teachers are kind, compassionate, and generous.  They are smart and highly trained.  They are dedicated, creative, and hardworking. They will go to any lengths to help their students learn, grow, and flourish. 

And we take all of that and pour it into our students.  

Because they hold whatever is poured into them. And the responsibility of that is too great to get wrong.

My Love-Hate Relationship with Book Fairs

We just finished up our fall book fair.  It was great.  Went off without a hitch.  

Can I be frank? 

I loathe school book fairs. 

No, that isn't entirely accurate. 

I really do love them.  

Setting it up is like Christmas morning. Opening each case to find the treasures inside. 

I love looking through the box of pens and erasers and junky stuff that kids love and parents roll their eyes at (me included). (Full disclosure: I once bought 15 of the invisible-ink-with-a-blacklight-to-send-secret-codes pens. Not as a child; I did this as an adult.)

I really love buying books at my children's book fairs.  I feel like there should be a secret handshake just for those who set up and run book fairs to keep ther libraries going. 

And there it is.  The loathing. 

I have a truly love-hate relationship with book fairs. 

I work in a district with a poverty level of over 50%.  My heart breaks for those kids who never get to buy anything. Or not the thing they want.  

I am thankful for the box of "vlue books" that are $2 or $3, but for some, that is still too much. 

And at the end of it all, when we cash out the fair, we get to choose 50% if we take stuff from the fair itself, 4o% if we take credit from the company, and 30% if we take cash. 

We always take credit (after getting all the books we can possibly use from the fair itself), because there is a huge difference between 30% and 40%, especially when that money is what will keep the library going, should grants fall through. 

And there it is, again.  

I am mad. Mad that the library is funded through the generosity of community members and the profits of sales from a book fair. I am mad that this is the system we have.  Books are important. Reading is important. Libraries are crucial.  Everyone agrees on this.  So let's fund the library? No? Oh, but hey! Book fair profits!

Our fair was very successful this year.  We sold over $3,000 worth of stuff. In the end, after taxes as all the rest, we got $150 in books from the fair and have a credit of $672. 

Library bound books (that will last and have guarantees) for the K-3 age group run around $20 each.  That means we can get about 33 books.   

That isn't a typo.  

33 books. 

So, yeah, I am mad.  And I am jealous. 

I am jealous that we don't bat an eye at new football uniforms and shell out tens of thousands of dollars for the new science curriculum. 

But we need a science curriculum!  Yes, yes we do.  Do you know what else we need?  A library. And books. 

Can I get Nike to sponsor the library? 

Can I sell advertising on the shelves to Coke? 

No, that's absurd.  As it should be.  

What else is absurd?  Expecting a library in a high-poverty district to fund itself solely on the profits of a book fair and the generosity of strangers.  

Reading to Children and Other Life Changing Exercises

I don't mean to brag, but, on a regular basis, I get to read to children. 

Recently I had a colleague minimize reading in classes. He dismissed it as an unimportant aspect of my day that could be summarized as "Ms. Crisp read to a class." 

Yes, I get to walk into a classroom where students cheer or wave or squeal.  Sometimes the hug me.  (This is not the reaction I get in the high school).  They run over to get a primo spot on the carpet and sit at my feet as I read to them.  

But it isn't just reading.  

Sometimes, we talk about the physical parts of the book.  In This Book Just Ate My Dog, any character who crosses the center of the book disappears, which gave us a hilarious chance to talk about how books are bound, what a gutter is, and why an author might use a double-page spread. 

Sometimes we talk about the way illustrators use images.  A few weeks ago, we read The Rabbit Listened and talked about what "disappointment" is, how we react to it, how an illustrator might show disappointment in a picture, and how those pictures can show what our internal struggles are.  The Rabbit Listened is beautiful and powerful.  More than once I choked back tears as I read it. It is the kind of book that you could give an adult.  And we talked about that, too.  How the ideas in a picture book apply to everyone. 

Often I have kids ask, "How can you read that without looking at the words?" and we talk about re-reading (since I read the same book to all classes K-5 in two buildings).  We talked about how re-reading can build fluency and how it also brings a unique perspective since you notice different things the 14th time through. 

When we read The Day You Begin, students talk about times they felt different or weird.  In one class a student--I swear I am not making this up--said, "This book could really help me because I feel like that all the time." 

In The Last Stop on Market Street, the main character volunteers in a soup kitchen, and, as we discussed what that is and why it was needed, a student, with absolute pride, was able to talk about the fact that she knew what that was. And also a food pantry!   Her lived experience, that could have been a source of shame, was, instead one of power and being able to inform others, who politely listened and nodded along. 

I say "we" read, because that is the case. I might be saying the words, but the students are reading the pictures and listening to the words (older students are often also reading with their eyes). They are interpreting, understanding, thinking. They are developing their listening comprehension skills at the same time that they are making text-to-self connections and often text-to-text connections when there is some other book that relates. So, in the deepest sense, I am deliberate when I say "we read".   

When a scheduling conflict comes up and I am not able to read in classes, kids are genuinely sad.  Some even walk up and sneakily suggest I could just slip into their room and read.   

So, yes, at times a description of my day is that I "read to a class". 

But I also taught. 
I used words that might have been new or used in a new way. 
I listened and responded.  
I valued the stories of the writers and the stories of the students. 

I taught. 

I modeled. 

I explained. 

I facilitated.

I analyzed. 
I shared.

Then

I helped kids analyze. 

I helped kids explain.  

I helped kids interpret.

And suggest,

And contrast. 

And relate.

And categorize. 

And validate. 

And express.

And consider.   

I get to go into classrooms and model the behavior of being an adult who loves, values, and shares the experience of reading. 

On a fairly regular basis, I have kids see me in Wal-Mart and in a not-so-hushed whisper exclaim, "That's the lady who reads to us!"

OK, I guess I do mean to brag.  

In defense of librarians

A couple of days ago, I saw an article titled "School libraries hit by the loss of a dying breed as teacher librarians enter 'survival mode'".  Now, this article was from Australia but it hit on some of the same issues present in the United States. The article stated the following: 

"Researchers have reported an 'alarming' loss in the number of qualified teacher librarians in schools, warning student literacy will continue to suffer if the trend is not reversed. Once a staple of schools, the roles have been branded a dying breed with many principals opting to replace them with cheaper 'library officers' and 'library assistants', often with no qualifications or educational training. Literary researcher Margaret Merga said while teacher librarian numbers had been in decline for some time, they appeared to have hit a critical low, which she warned would have serious implications for students, particularly struggling readers." (emphasis added)

The article talks about how there are fewer school librarians, and has a three bullet-point standout section toward the beginning of the article:

There are concerns the number of teacher librarians has fallen to a critical low

Experts say they are vital to school literacy outcomes and should be mandatory

Education officials say library staffing in government schools is up to principals

For me, the first two points really summarize the entire dilemma. 

All of the data, and I do mean all of it, says that schools suffer when they don't have a certified librarian. This doesn't mean paras or aides.  

A Word on Paras/Aides as Library Clerks

Paras and aides are essential to the work of the library. Period. I am constantly advocating for a more consistent level of staffing in the libraries in my district.  I wish my paras were in there all day, every day. Don't pull them to cover lunch duty. Don't pull them when you need a sub. Don't close the library because you want the library para to do another job within the school.  I know with the realities of schools today that is never going to happen.  It just isn't.  

Well, not in a district that doesn't have money. 

When I was working on my MSLIS (the graduate degree required to be a school librarian) (Yes, school librarianship requires a masters degree), I got an email from a professor.  I was attending the University of Illinois, which is ranked first in the nation in the field of librarianship preparation.  A wealthy, highly-competitive public high school (which shall remain nameless) had a library clerk going on maternity leave.  This was not the director or librarian, but a clerk, meaning someone who did check-in, check-out, shelving, and the other day in day out visible work of the library. It is the stuff that people often presume that I do, though I rarely do.  That clerk was going on leave, and the school was looking to hire a substitute.  They were wondering if anyone in the UofI MSLIS program would be willing to do it to gain valuable library experience. 

Why is this an issue at all?  This was a wealthy school where the parents would never tolerate the library being closed. They would never tolerate NOT having a fully certified librarian. The clerk went on maternity leave, and the level of expectation included perhaps hiring someone working on a masters degree to be a substitute.    

Because libraries matter. 
Library staffing levels matter. 
Librarians matter. 

And the educated, wealthy parents at this school knew that. They knew that if the library staffing was reduced, their child's education would suffer.  

Don't think for even a fleeting second that the children of Bill Gates or President Trump go to a school without a full-time certified librarian.  It isn't a luxury; this is because certified librarians are crucial to strong educations. They are essential.   

That isn't an assumption; it is a fact supported by study after study. 

It is because a librarian is a trained, skilled professional who works, often behind the scenes to curate a collection of books, find access to resources, promote reading and literacy, conduct outreach and networking, and in all ways encourage and build a culture of literacy and reading within a school. 

All of that is time consuming.  It is also, often, unseen.  Books are chosen for reasons. Because they are current and deal with important issues.  Because they are award winning. Because they are compelling. Because they bring diversity and inclusively to a school.  Locating books includes reading journals like The Horn Book, School Library Journal, and others to find those starred reviews that support the needs and interests of the students in your school.  It also means combing through things like the longlist for the Man Booker Prize, the National Book Award, the PEN literary Awards, the HUGO nominees, the Eisner Awards, and countless others.  Creating a collection that is both timely and timeless is a constant and time consuming task.  

But without it, you risk the loss of literacy that comes with entering a library that is just a "room full of books".  Book Fairs and Goodwill are staples of the struggling library.  But if that is where the collection is being fed, then it is the students and their literacy that starves.  

The librarian also helps students locate references and navigate research databases.  The librarian promotes the library and reading and the many programs a library can support.  They also make sure the systems in place work, the workflows are streamlined, communication is effective, and tasks are completed.  Librarians, in many ways, are managers.  When they are allowed to manage, libraries run smoothly.  

But only when they are allowed to manage.  

In the current school funding climate of cost reduction and cost savings, if the chopping block requires a certified staff member,  it is far easier to cut art, music, and libraries than it is core classes. (For the record, I don't think any of those should be cut, and I am absolutely opposed to the Teacher Hunger Games climate we have devolved into).

So let's cut a teacher.  

Art?  Well, the art teacher does something, right?  I mean, kids paint and make things and we hang stuff in the hall. They develop art skills and we know art skills are important. 

OK Music?  That teacher is doing something.  Kids can sing and know how to read music and can play a recorder. We know the connections between music and success in math and science. 

Library?  Why do we need that person?  We already have a room full of books. The library has been made, so now it is done. Any idiot can buy a bunch of books. 

Plus, I don't see that person up and about. Researching collection development and getting grants and building a culture of literacy?  What does that even mean? Those aren't real things.  We just need someone to check-in, check-out, and shelve, right?  

A few years ago, Chicago Public School parents were outraged when the union stood up and said that no, they could not replace their certified librarians with a rotating list of volunteers.  

As a librarian myself, I can't even grasp why this is an option.  

Never, ever, in their wildest dreams would a public school district consider replacing an AP chem teacher (a position that typically requires a masters degree) with a volunteer.  

What parent would stand for their child to be taught Spanish or physics or history by a rotating list of volunteers?  None. It is absurd! 

And yet, it is par for the course for librarians.  I mean, they don't even do anything.  Or all they do is shelve. 

Data compiled by the American Library Association directly refutes this idea.  

"When comparing schools with and without librarians, the study indicates that the presence of a qualified school librarian can make a tremendous difference in readingachievement. This difference ranges from eight percent for high schools to 35 percent for elementary schools. For instance, schools with librarians have 35 percent more fourth graders who score proficient or above than schoolswithout librarians." (emphasis added)Rodney, Marcia J., Keith Curry Lance, and Christine Hamilton-Pennell. 2003.The Impact of Michigan School Libraries on Academic Achievement:Kids Who Have Libraries Succeed. Lansing, MI: Library of Michigan.<http://www.michigan.gov/documents/hal_lm_schllibstudy03_76626_7.pdf> (accessed December 15, 2010). Source

OK, but what about test scores?  Because schools have to be all in on test scores these days, right? We all want to raise our SAT scores, so we need to cut librarians in order to fund other SAT-ish stuff, right? 

"In an Iowa study, in all three grade levels surveyed, the students’ test scores tend to rise with the increased incrementally as [library] staffing and library usage increased." (emphasis added)
Rodney, Marcia J., Keith Curry Lance, and Christine Hamilton-Pennell. 2002. Make the Connection: Quality School Library Media Programs ImpacAcademic Achievement in Iowa. Bettendorf, IA: Iowa Area Education Agencies.<http://www.iowaaeaonline.org/pages/uploaded_files/Make TheConnection.pdf> (accessed December 15, 2010). Source

Wait, so that means, if we care about SAT scores, we need more access to libraries and more staffing, not less.

OK, but we don't need a librarian though.  Just check-in, check-out, and shelve. 

“The most important thing a strong library program can have is a full-time certified librarian with support staff.” (emphasis added)
PA School Library Project, et. al. 2012. Creating 21st-Centry Learners: A
Report on Pennsylvania’s Public School Libraries. <http://www.elcpa.org/Creating21stCenturyLearners_LibraryDataReport.10.17.12.pdf> (accessed March 18, 2013). Source

Maybe that is an outlier. 

Full-time school librarians linked to higher student reading scores (2012)Barack, L. (2012, March). Full-time school librarians linked to higher student reading scores. School Library Journal. Retrieved from http://www.slj.com/2011/09/industry-news/something-to-shout-about-new-research-shows-that-more-librarians-means-higher-reading-scores/
http://www.slj.com/2011/09/industry-news/something-to-shout-about-new-research-shows-that-more-librarians-means-higher-reading-scores/

 OK, maybe that is an outlier too. 

Want better reading scores? Hire a full-time librarian (2012)"This article briefly addresses findings by the Library Research Service that 45 percent of students in grades three through ten increased their CSAP test scores over the course of a year, compared with just 29 percent of students who did not have a school librarian at their school. The resource also asserts that library aides and volunteers cannot substitute for school librarians, since they likely do not possess the time or the requisite skills for the role."
Klenke, A. (2012). Want better reading scores? Hire a full-time librarian. Retrieved from Care 2 Make a Difference website: http://www.care2.com/causes/want-better-reading-scores-hire-a-full-time librarian.html# ixzz1pCrjvfnThttp://www.care2.com/causes/want-better-reading-scores-hire-a-full-time librarian.html# ixzz1pCrjvfnT

It isn't an outlier. It is reality.  

Certified librarians are essential to schools.  They are essential to their libraries and the programs it runs.  

Even with the internet.

They help students achieve. 

Their time spent on advocacy and outreach is important.

They are important in helping schools prepare students with 21st century skills. 

And because the current trend is all test scores, all the time, librarians lead to higher test scores. 

Cutting library positions puts student learning at risk. 

Also, test scores. 

And test scores!

Oh, and did I mention test scores? 

You know, with all of this data (each word is a separate link, if you enjoy lots of data), it is almost as if school librarians are important to schools and students. Even if people don't understand what librarians do or why they are important to the library, they are. 

No school would ever dream of getting rid of the football coach because we have an established team. Heck, we only see the coach do anything for a couple of hours on a Friday night!  

Oh, wait, that's absurd.   

And it is. 

Just as it is absurd to think that a room full of books without a librarian is a library.  Or that any idiot could order books, so why do we even need to pay someone to do that?  

But if none of that matters, there is always the issue of test scores.