This post was written by members Marissa E. King and Karen Sheriff LeVan.
Classrooms and especially student writing conferences should be places that champion student effort, celebrate writing growth, and promote student self-advocacy. Yet in the age of standardized testing and rushed observations, struggling writers often lose out. 听A focus on finished product can crowd out student voice and overlook intentions. After all, it鈥檚 faster and easier to mark an error than to uncover the thinking that led to the misuse of evidence or a faulty appositive.
For students, the results can be frustrating. Student writers often complain bitterly that teacher feedback doesn鈥檛 adequately value their work. One student described wanting to give up on writing after a frustrating conference with her teacher. In a harried but well-meaning move we too might make, her teacher pointed to a particular verb and instructed the student to 鈥渢hink about word choice here and revise鈥� before moving on to suggesting other changes. The student had spent a great deal of time considering verb choice already. 听She knew exactly why she chose that verb, and yet her intentions did not shine on the page.
To help students advocate for the often-invisible work they鈥檙e doing, we need a clear structure to draw attention to the thoughts behind the errors. 听The student complaining about the teacher’s commentary on her word choice had chosen a word that didn鈥檛 make sense to the teacher reader. While the student wanted credit for her intention despite the error, there鈥檚 no way a teacher could understand the thoughtfulness behind the word choice without student explanation.
To prioritize space for student voice in conferences, we ask students to self-annotate their writing prior to showing teachers their work. Now, instead of sitting silently and feeling misunderstood, students use their annotation to make a case for how they meet each assignment expectation.
We ask students to mark and comment on their writing with two types of self-annotation:
1) actual markings (underline, bracket, circle) with labels identifying corresponding rubric components, and
2) brief notes explaining how the writing meets expectations or functions in the identified capacity.
A student might underline 鈥渙n the other hand鈥� and then write 鈥渢ransition shows contrast between my dad鈥檚 perspective and my own,鈥� thus marking, labeling, and explaining all at once.
With marks indicating where students see their writing successfully meeting an assignment鈥檚 expectations, students get the chance to advocate for the thinking they鈥檝e already done.
The student frustrated by her teacher鈥檚 鈥渢hink about word choice鈥� comment can underline her verb, mark it as 鈥渟trong signal verb,鈥� and then note that it 鈥渟hows a resistant attitude.鈥� The verb still won鈥檛 make sense to the teacher reader but now, the student has a chance to showcase what she did know, despite a 听result that isn’t clear to the teacher.
Self-annotation offers a chance to self-advocate in the face of error. Consider the student who starts her topic sentence with the introductory phrase: 鈥淲iens, Kyle, CEO of an online repair company, admits. . . .鈥� Although she uses a signal phrase (win!), the author鈥檚 name is inverted. Her annotation 鈥渇ulfills MLA guidelines鈥� and asserts her identity as a thoughtful, intentional writer. 听At the same time, her annotation turns the conversation to the thinking behind a mistake (). 听Instead of resorting to a breezy 鈥渃orrect this鈥� comment, the teacher can respond to the student text and intention.
Annotation-driven conferences begin with the writer鈥檚 intentions. When students get used to making the case for the thinking behind their writing choices, both students and teachers win. As students self-annotate, they clarify their thinking. Instead of passivity, they enter conferences with annotations as their own self-advocacy agendas. Their annotations serve as the foundation to celebrate effort and growth despite error.
Karen Sheriff LeVan teaches literature and writing courses at Hesston College in central Kansas.听 She currently researches and writes about the struggle for words in the 5th-grade classroom, college writing culture, and older adult creative writing groups. @KSLeVan
听
Marissa E. King teaches 5th grade in Tulsa, Oklahoma, where she overuses sticky notes, forgets to drink her coffee while it鈥檚 still hot, and writes with her students. She鈥檚 also a 2017 Yale National Fellow. @KingMarissaE