The Book Whisperer

Donalyn Miller is a 6th grade language arts and social studies teacher in Texas who is said to have a "gift": She can turn even the most reluctant (or in her words "dormant") readers into students who can't put their books down. After responding to reader questions in her popular, "Creating Readers" Ask The Mentor column, Donalyn has returned to blog. She will write about how to inspire and motivate student readers, and respond to issues facing teachers and other leaders in the literacy field.

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April 27, 2008

Smoke and Mirrors


Click, click. My classroom is silent except for the scratching of pencils and that horrid noise. Click, click. My students are half way through a practice test for the state reading assessment. Click, click. One boy in the corner is methodically pushing the lid on and off a highlighter while he works. Click, click. This incessant hearbeat beneath the floorboards of my classroom is driving me mad. Click, click. I silently approach my tormentor, and look at his test. Click, click. A sea of neon alien blood flows across his paper; it appears that he is marking every other line in a code that only he can decipher. Click, cl… I thrust my open hand in front of him, and he places the offending marker into it. The clicking stops and I retain my sanity for another day.

When my students finish, we gather to discuss the passages and the questions. I want to know what test-taking skills my 6th grade students use after three years of taking the TAKS (Texas Assessment of Knowledge and Skills). Beginning a list on the board, I ask,

“What reading strategies did you use to take the practice test today?”

Hands shoot up around the room, and I jot down their responses,

“I read the questions first before I read the passage.” (I wonder if he even reads the passages, or just hunts for the answers to the questions.)

“I write a summary of every paragraph.”(EVERY paragraph?)

“When I answer the questions, I write down the paragraph number that proves my answer.” (What about the answers that are not stated outright in the text?)

“I highlight all of the names, dates, titles, and underlined words.” (Ah, that was what he was doing…)

“I read every passage three times.”(Not two, not four, exactly three. Having read a lot of folktales this year, my students can tell you about the significance of the number three.)

It goes on and on, as my students share all of the test-taking secrets they have learned over the years. One boy offers to teach the class his method for choosing which test answer is the best summary, the mystical “B-M-E" which stands for beginning, middle, and end,

“Whichever answer choice has something from the beginning of the story, the middle of the story, and the end of the story is the best summary.”

I have to ask, “How do you decide where the middle is?”

“Oh, that’s easy, I count how many paragraphs are in the story, and then I divide it by two.”(What a great way to integrate math into my reading class.)

I can’t take it anymore. I cry out, “Why? Why do you do all of these things? How do these tricks help you read the test?”

There are less raised hands this time, but I call on one brave volunteer,

“My teacher in fourth grade told me to highlight everything that was important. If we didn’t do this during practice tests, she would take points off our grades.”

Nods and murmurs around the room tell me that this was a common occurrence. Instead of a toolbox of reading strategies that students can use across a variety of reading situations, they carry a cracked valise full of garlic and holy water—ancient talismans passed down from teachers to survive the test. The kids don’t even know why they are using most of these tricks; they just know they are supposed to. Dragging these strategies out into the sunlight reveals their true purpose: get students to slow down, take their time, and focus on their reading. Why don’t we just tell students that?

I agree that we should show students how to read a multiple choice test. The format of these tests is unique, and students must employ specific strategies to read one. But test reading is only one genre that students must master. Drilling test-practice at the expense of teaching authentic reading is a Sisyphean task teachers repeat, year after year, never getting students to the top of the reading hill.

Spending weeks, or horrifyingly in some classrooms, months, on test-taking lore denies students a lot of time that would be better spent reading and discussing real books—a practice that is shown again and again to positively impact students’ reading achievement.

I have never seen a student who could read and comprehend a wide range of texts fail these tests, but I have seen a few students, carrying only a handful of test-taking beans, who did.

Myths, legends, and scary stories are genres, just like reading tests are, but they are not methods for teaching reading. We are teachers in classrooms, not shamans around campfires. The only trickery that should be found in reading class is in fairytales.

April 12, 2008

A Light in Darkness

Powerful thunderstorms ripped through North Texas on Wednesday night. Built on the site of an old tree farm, my subdivision was decimated, with countless old growth trees torn apart by gale force winds and tossed onto cars, roofs, and streets. Uprooted during the storm, my neighbor’s thirty-foot maple fell into our yard, killing one of our oak trees, and dragging the utility pole and power lines for our block down with it. Without power for three days, we searched for something to do when our little house became a dark cave by eight pm each night.

Laughing at me a bit when I begged them to tell me who was voted off American Idol, my students knew that life without TV, computers, and lights was a challenge for most, but one boy remarked, “Hey, you have hundreds of books don’t you? I guess you will just read until the power comes back on!” I smiled and agreed, knowing he was right.

If you have not read a book with a flashlight since you were a child, I recommend you do it again. Traveling with a book’s characters--wrapped together in a small circle of light--is a journey that we should not relegate to childhood. My husband finished Eoin Colfer’s latest adventure yarn, Airman, claiming it was one of the best reading experiences of his life. Our nine year-old begged us to read ghost stories by candlelight because these were, in her opinion, “the best stories” to read in a house draped in eerie silence and creepy shadows. Under the glow of my book light, I reread an old favorite, Cornelia Funke’s The Thief Lord. Running through the canals and cathedrals of Venice with the orphan heroes Prosper and Scipio, I escaped, leaving my troubles behind.

English professor Mason Cooley said it best, “Reading gives us someplace to go when we have to stay where we are." I have embraced this idea my entire life. I will never climb Mount Everest, but I have seen its glaciers and peaks through the eyes of courageous explorers. I will never meet Winston Churchill or Helen Keller, but reading their memoirs gave me a chance to sit in their company, and learn from what they knew. The only people I know who count rogues and saints among their companions are readers. I don't consider my life a small one, though. Readers live bigger lives than those who don't read, and we know that books radiate light back onto us a hundred fold.

Books are a candle of solace when we suffer, a warm friend when we need one, and a neon sign marking exits from the confines of our mundane existence.

Books illuminate our hearts and brains, banishing shadows from dark corners, and lighting the way for us like no TV glow ever can.

As long as there is just enough light to read by, readers are never without power.

Donalyn Miller

Donalyn Miller

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