I know that I am my own worst critic when it comes to writing. Most of the time when I finish something, my first thought is, "Boy that is a lousy piece of crap, who'd read this?" I have grand intentions to write more, but that very loud voice in my head usually wins out. This post for example has been in the hopper for a few weeks now. It took a little nudge from my friend Franki to get me to say, "I'll go back, revise the beginning and send it out." I think we all need a Franki in our lives, someone who knows just how to push the right buttons, even if she doesn't realize she is doing it.
Over the summer I got a text from Franki that read something like this:
Why don't you write an article for Choice Literacy? #invitationnotcommand
The next thing I know we are bouncing ideas back and forth and I feel no pressure to write, but I want to write. I feel no pressure to get anything done, but I WANT to get something done. Fast forward a few weeks and I have posted on this site more regularly and have not one, but three articles published on Choice Literacy. For someone like me, this stretch of writing was huge with a capital H. It felt fantastic to write, share and get feedback.
I have slowed down lately, but when school starts for me I put forth so much energy into cultivating rleationships with my students and families, that writing for me takes a back seat. However this whole #invitationnotcommand thing provided some opportunities for me to think deeply about how a small phrase might mean big things for student writers.
Standing on the shoulders of mentors like Lucy Calkins, Katie Wood Ray and Carl Andersson has taught me that I do need to teach in the writing workshop. I can't ignore the idea of pushing students to new crafting techniques, new ways to think about composition and the art of being thoughtful with revision. However, I have always struggled with pushing my 4th graders without deflating them. I know too well how damaging one sentence can be for a writer who is trying to take a risk. I have "crushed" a few too many students over the years even though I thought I was helping them.
I decided early on this year that I would use the phrase, "This is an invitation, not a command" when I wanted to nudge students toward big important thinking in their work. We had mini-lessons on this language. The point of these lessons was for them to know that 1) these invitations would make them think deeper about their writing and 2) it still kept them in control of their writing. I didn't want the kids to think that if an invitation was given there was an expectation to follow through. My students even know who Franki is and how successful she is with her "invitations, not commands." In fact I think she has a nearly 100% track record.
Due to the class discussions and my purposeful use of the phrase, my students have started using it with each other during peer conferencing in both writing and reading. It has been a rather interesting experiment. I am seeing students gently push each other to new places in both writing an reading. Not all invitations are accepted, but nearly every time one is accepted, the writer or reader ends up being happy he took the invitation and ran with it.
Our class will continue to explore the concept of invtations for the rest of the year. I am cautiously optimistic that it will be as HUGE for them as it has been for me. The initial stages seem positive. When you see 4th graders revising entire poems or adding complete scenes in personal narratives due to invitations from each other, it is hard to think that it won't be really big.
Later,
Tony
By the way, Franki has extended her invitation not command thinking to her library. G0 read her thinking now. #invitationnotcommand
image credit to Tomas Hellberg
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