Literacy Now

In September’s “The Continued Search for Best Practice,” I suggested that the federally funded Cooperative Research Program in First-Grade Reading Instruction (aka the “first-grade studies”), conducted in the 1960s, remains a “scintillating study” today. A prominent finding was that a comparison of different approaches to teaching beginning reading revealed none to be the most effective. All of the approaches worked well in some contexts and not so well in others. That finding calls attention to the prominent role of context when conceptualizing today’s understanding of “evidence-based best practice.” Here, I extend that view and address two pertinent questions I raised then.

If context is central, does anything go?

Certainly not. It simply means that an informed, experienced, and dedicated practitioner working within a particular context, not research, is at the center of best practice. That was Gerald Duffy’s (1994) point when he said “Viewing research findings as…technical information ignores the reality that teachers must make strategic decisions about when [emphasis added] to apply findings…and when it might be appropriate to ignore findings altogether” (p. 19). (See also David Pearson, 2007). Or, as the first-grade studies suggested decades ago, matching the right action to particular circumstances at the right time is best practice.   

Nonetheless, knowing the relevant research is a professional obligation, if for no other reason than to know when it is necessary to justify practice not aligned with it. On the other hand, the body of education research, on whole, is relatively limited and equivocal, leaving much room for interpretation.* Further, it overwhelmingly leans toward measurable achievement, giving short shrift to valued, but less measurable, goals and to other pedagogically relevant factors. We know little about the efficiency, appeal, and negative collateral outcomes of even the most researched approaches and practices. So, research findings may be a useful, albeit limited, resource for considering informed practice, but it is not a prescription for success, or the final arbiter of best practice. It is a starting point for reflective, discriminating practice, not a substitute for it.

The medical profession has a model for evidence-based practice that provides a more balanced and enlightened perspective. Evidence-based practice in health care has been argued to exist at the intersection of research, professional knowledge and experience, local data and information, and patient experiences and preferences (Rycroft-Malone et al., 2004). Anything does not go, but best practice varies from case to case, because it takes into account four sources of input, three of which are contextual.

A widely accepted set of general principles defining “good” (not best) practice would also be a hedge against “anything goes.” It might even include defining malpractice, which Jim Cunningham (1999) has argued is necessary to call ourselves a profession. As far as I know, we do not have a broadly consensual set of such principles, let alone an operational definition of malpractice. Why not, I wonder?

Might literacy research better align with a more contextual view of best practice?

I think so. The bulk of our research literature is grounded in two metaphors: the laboratory for quantitative experimental research and the lens for qualitative naturalistic research. The former must necessarily treat a vast array of dynamic, interacting, and potentially influential contextual factors in classrooms as random variation. It generates broad generalizations with the implicit assumption that, at best, “when all other things are equal, we can say that…” But, as any teacher knows, all things are never equal, and contending with that reality defines the essence of professional practice. The lens metaphor, too, is limited. It enables deep analysis of instructional contexts, but usually with no deliberate investment in understanding how contextual factors might be managed for the sake of improving practice.

There is a third alterative that is gradually taking hold in literacy research. It is referred to generally as design-based research. As implied by the word design, it is grounded in an engineering metaphor (see Reinking, 2011). This approach rigorously studies how an instructional intervention can be designed and implemented to accomplish a valued pedagogical goal. It asks questions such as What contextual factors enhance or inhibit effectiveness, efficiency, and appeal? What iterative adaptations to the intervention make sense in light of those factors? What unanticipated outcomes does the intervention bring about? Does the intervention transform teaching and learning? What pedagogical principles might be learned by trying to make something work, and do those principles stand up across diverse contexts?

In short, it is an approach to research that aligns with the deeply contextual nature of teaching and the need for informed guidance derived from authentic practice, not unequivocal prescriptions for best practice.

In my final installment, I will summarize several published studies that illustrate this approach and how it might inform practice.   

*See David Labaree’s (1998) argument that education research is a lesser form of knowledge. See also John Hattie’s (2009) analysis of more the 50,000 experimental studies involving more than 2 million students, leading to his conclusion that the overall effect sizes are moderate. Also noteworthy is the remarkably small number of published experimental studies in literacy that meet the U.S. Department of Education’s What Works Clearinghouse’s most rigorous standards (27 of 836 in one year; see also http://blogs.edweek.org/edweek/inside-school-research/2013/11/useful_reading_research_hard_t.html )

David Reinking is the Eugene T. Moore Professor of Education in the School of Education at Clemson University. During the 2012–2013 academic year, he was a visiting distinguished professor in the Johns Hopkins University School of Education, and in the Spring of 2013, he was a visiting professor at the Università degli Studi della Tuscia in Viterbo Italy.

The ILA Literacy Research Panel uses this blog to connect educators around the world with research relevant to policy and practice. Reader response is welcomed via e-mail.

"What are your recommendations for independent reading?"

Every child needs a chance to read independently in school. In the frenzy to prepare students for large-scale assessments, some schools are limiting independent reading (IR) time. Yet the Common Core State Standards themselves advocate student independent reading from a multiplicity of genre. In fact, some argue that Common Core materials should “increase regular independent reading of texts that appeal to students' interests while developing both their knowledge base and joy in reading” (Coleman & Pimental, 2012, p. 4).

Now more than ever, research studies provide guidance for creating IR programs that contribute to achievement. The teacher is a central player in these programs, setting the stage and directing the action that makes IR work. Today's IR programs should differ significantly from SSR, DEAR, and earlier iterations of IR.

IR involves the full participation of the teacher. This means the teacher is instructing, scaffolding, and conferring with students (Reutzel, Fawson, & Smith, 2008) during IR time. For example, the teacher educates students in how to select appropriate books, scaffolds student understanding of specific text types, and confers with students to assess their understanding of what they have read.

IR requires an investment of time. Children need time to read—a lot of time. Time spent reading contributes to reading achievement in ways that simply doing worksheets or other activities does not (Allington, 2002; Foorman et al., 2006). Time is not a one-size-fits-all proposition, however. Less proficient readers may benefit from shorter time frames until they build more reading stamina, whereas better readers may read successfully for longer periods of time.

IR requires a broad range of leveled texts. Not too long ago, most classroom libraries were composed of mainly fictional texts—stories, myths, legends, fantasies, and more. Today, however, we know students need to read from many different genres including informational trade books, newspapers, magazines, online resources, primary source documents, plays, poems, graphical texts, and biographies. Most experts recommend that classroom libraries include 50% literary texts and 50% informational texts. Some texts should be leveled so that all students have access to books appropriate to their reading levels. This does not mean that every IR book a student selects must be easy; when students pick harder books that can stretch them, they may need additional teacher scaffolding to ensure success. In addition to access, students need their teachers to teach them to select books. Teachers need to model strategies students can use to carefully select a rich variety of texts for IR.

Talk around texts is an essential component of IR. Earlier forms of IR placed little emphasis upon talk around texts. Today we know that even 10 minutes of talk around texts can enhance achievement (Nystrand, 2006). Both small-group and large-group conversations can contribute to critical thinking, metacognition, and argument construction. Strategies like Instructional Conversations and Questioning the Author let students share what they have learned from texts.

IR requires differentiated instruction. This is especially true for English learners and struggling readers, as IR experiences are even more important for these students than for others. These students need help selecting books, more support during reading, and more strategy instruction. Most important, they need more IR time than other students. Poor readers typically spend less time reading both in and out of school. Their progress depends on reading practice, which they lack. Making IR contingent on work completion is a perfect example of why these students don't get the reading practice they need. Struggling readers seldom complete work early, and miss the reading opportunities they need so much.

Effective IR programs have the potential to not only increase student achievement but also motivate children to discover the love of reading that can last a lifetime.

Barbara Moss, PhD, is a professor of literacy education at San Diego State University, where she teaches classes at the credential, masters, and doctoral levels. She also taught English language arts or reading at every grade level from 3–12 and is the author of numerous journal articles and books about many aspects of literacy learning including close reading, informational texts, and disciplinary literacy. She co-authored (with Debbie Miller) Not This, But That: No More Independent Reading Without Support, published by Heinemann.

The ILA Literacy Research Panel uses this blog to connect ILA members around the world with research relevant to policy and practice. Reader response is welcomed via e-mail.

Do you often look at the short, complex text you’ve chosen for students to closely read and wonder what questions would best support their comprehension? As you examine the text, do you remind yourself that you need to ask questions that invite analysis of what the text says, how it works, and what it means? (Adler & Van Doren, 1940/1972). Clearly a consideration of the reader, the task, and the sociocultural context of the text is necessary, but the text should also inform the type of questions you need to generate for students to achieve critical analysis. Not all questions provide equal support, so you must be very intentional in your analysis of the text and in your crafting of questions.

In Ms. Davis’ eighth grade science class, students are preparing to work in teams to construct minivehicles that are powered by their own energy source and exhibit an understanding of Newton’s Laws of motion. Their work will be documented in a Wiki they will build that includes a written synopsis of the project, photographs of various iterations of design, and video of the car trials. In order to prepare students for this exciting engineering challenge, Ms. Davis has selected a close reading of the following subsection about Newton’s Third Law of Motion. As you read this passage, consider which questions might promote deep analysis given the hallmark characteristics of this paragraph.

Newton’s Third Law of Motion is based on the understanding that forces come in pairs. They are the result of interactions between two forces. If you pull a wagon by its handle, the wagon pulls back on you. Newton’s Third Law is commonly stated as follows: For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. Another way of putting this is to say, if object 1 exerts a force on object 2, then object 2 also exerts a force on object 1.  The concept of Newton’s Third Law has helped to solve problems and explain phenomena we observe in the real world. Engineers in the past considered ways for humans to send measuring instruments—and later, peopleinto space. To accomplish this, they drew on Newton’s Third Law. Consider this:  When a rocket is launched, the engine generates hot gases that flow out of the back of the engine. In turn, an opposite reaction force, called thrust, is produced. This force pushes the rocket upward, away from earth. There are other advancements that directly result from an understanding of Newton’s Third Law. Because swimming in ocean water is difficult and slow with bare feet, a device worn on the feet, called a swim fin, was developed. When the large blade of the swim fin pushes back on the water, the water exerts an opposite force that propels the swimmer forward. Next time you kick a soccer ball, notice how you can feel the push of the ball back against your foot. Next time you lift a book off a desk, remember both you and the book are exerting forces on each other. Newton’s Third Law of Motion describes these interactions, which you see and experience every day.

You only need to ask one general understanding question such as, “What’s this text about?” or “What‘s the purpose of this text?” because the author explicitly answers each of these questions in the first three sentences. The author also uses context to define the technical words, so you may not need to ask more than one question like, “How does the author help us understand the meaning of interactions in the first five sentences?”(e.g., Kuhn & Stahl, 1998).The vocabulary demands for Ms. Davis’ students are not too difficult because they have had previous experience with the concept of forces.

Where the complexity lays in this text is in its structure, a valuable area for instruction (e.g., Taylor & Beach, 1984). Analyzing it indicates there is more than one organizational structure and that the signal words that usually alert the reader to this are obvious in some cases, but not in others. Because of this, more than one question about structure may need to be asked. In preparation you might craft questions such as the follwing:

• Cause and effect text structure is often indicated by signal words such as if/then or when. “What do the cause/effect signal words in this text tell you about Newton’s Third Law?”
• Problem/solution text structure is also noted in this text. “What examples does the author provide to clarify how problems are solved in the real world?”

So this text requires more questions about how the text works because our analysis of the text identified the area (structural organization) that would be complex for most eighth grade readers. By crafting these two intentionally layered questions, we have prepared the scaffolds needed to support students getting to the deepest meaning of this text. Our focus of questioning was on how the text works. Using rubrics that support a deep analysis of a text results in developing intentionally focused questions that are supportive of deep textual analysis by students during close reading.

Maria C. Grant is a professor in secondary education at California State University, Fullerton (CSUF). Grant teaches courses in the credential program there and works to support collaborations among educators in both formal and informal science education institutions. She conducts professional development workshops, institutes, and webinars for educators across the country on various topics, including the Next Generation Science Standards,Common Core State Standards for English Language Arts, formative assessment, and disciplinary literacy. Diane Lapp, EdD, Distinguished Professor of Education at San Diego State University (SDSU), is currently an English/literacy teacher and instructional coach at Health Sciences High and Middle School in San Diego, CA.  Also a member of both the California and the International Reading Halls of Fame, Diane can also be found on Twitter.

The ILA Literacy Research Panel uses this blog to connect ILA members around the world with research relevant to policy and practice. Reader response is welcomed via e-mail.

Has barely a month gone by since you’ve last seen or heard a report on how boys are disengaged as readers? Ever wonder what boys themselves would say in their defense, if asked?

Loukia Sarroub and Todd Pernicek, a high school English teacher and a literacy teacher, respectively, shared similar interests. They wondered about the predominance of boys enrolled in Todd’s literacy classes, which are intended for students who struggle with academic reading assignments, and whether learning about the boys’ lifetime encounters with reading might shed some light on their current placement. Their curiosity, fueled in part by a desire to share what they would learn with other reading teachers, led to a two-year case study of three high school boys deemed representative of their classmates.

Sarroub and Pernicek’s study, titled Boys, Books, and Boredom: A Case of Three High School Boys and Their Encounters With Literacy, is particularly notable because daily observations (recorded as field notes) were supplemented by information gained through interviews, informal reading inventories, schoolwork samples, grade point averages, and biographical pieces. Analyses of these data sources resulted in the following findings:

• Over a lifetime, the boys had learned to “do school” by disengaging. Two of the boys had intensely disliked school and home reading for years, whereas the third boy’s views were more moderate. However, all three showed varying degrees of reluctance to engage with reading of any kind. This disengagement likely contributed to low achievement and negative perceptions of themselves as readers, particularly for the two boys who strongly disliked reading. Yet Harry Potter books and automotive repair manuals were a few of the rare bright spots in their collective reading memories.  

• The boys’ perceptions of themselves as poor to moderately successful readers were stable and permanent. They believed their situations were out of their control and linked teachers’ actions to their low status as readers. They could differentiate the characteristics of teachers who helped them learn versus those who did not and were highly critical of teachers who did not succeed in forging positive relationships with them. Teachers who gave a lot of homework overwhelmed the group and caused them to stop trying. One boy, in fact, said he could distinguish between “trying” and “trying to try.” Interesting to note, however, is that a perceived sense of failure caused by circumstances out of their control was not confined to schooling.

• Interactions (or lack thereof) with parents, plus the complexity of their home lives, contributed to the boys’ perceptions of why they were disengaged as readers. One boy remembered his father reading to him as a child but not teaching him about reading, and another boy recalled times when he and his father would pore over car manuals in advance of making repairs. The third boy’s home life had been in turmoil since he could remember. He had distanced himself from both parents and was working a 40-hour per week job as a high school senior.

The sense Sarroub and Pernicek made of these findings, given that a key reason for conducting the study had been to inform classroom practice, was that no single factor accounts for the struggles disengaged readers have encountered over a lifetime. Instead, the complexities inherent in each and every student’s separate struggle will call for flexibility in instruction and the implementation of a school district’s curriculum.

In the first instance, it is the teachers who are in control—those who “reclaim their literacy classrooms and the courage to do what is right by first focusing on students and then making the appropriate pedagogical adjustments” (Sarroub & Pernicek, 2014, p. 27). The authors provide an example that Hinchman (2007) has advanced: namely, the pedagogical principle of simplicity rules. This translates to a plan of action in which homework loads are reduced considerably and then increased as disengaged readers find less reason for believing success is beyond their control. Another plan of action implied by the findings involves giving students some degree of choice in materials to be read. Attending to reader choice will likely also address issues of relevancy, motivation, and sustained engagement.

But teachers exerting their flexibility need a school district’s support to succeed. Thus, Sarroub and Pernicek encourage school boards to demonstrate a similar flexibility in matters that pertain to implementing curricula, especially in an era of high accountability. This action, the authors of the study submit, could “help young men avoid becoming yet another statistic in a report about how boys are falling behind in reading” (p. 27).

For additional suggestions on how to engage reluctant readers, see an earlier scintillating study featuring the work of Gay Ivey and Peter Johnston as blogged by Ryan Rutherford and Jo Worthy.

Donna Alvermann is the University of Georgia Appointed Distinguished Research Professor of Language and Literacy Education. She also holds an endowed chair position: The Omer Clyde and Elizabeth Parr Aderhold Professor in Education. Formerly a classroom teacher in Texas and New York, her research focuses on young people’s digital literacies and use of popular media. 

The ILA Literacy Research Panel uses this blog to connect educators around the world with research relevant to policy and practice. Reader response is welcomed via e-mail.

Teachers from kindergarten through high school work increasingly with students for whom English is a second or additional language. When it comes to learning, these students have all of the same needs as any other student but they must also learn English in both its spoken and written forms. Teaching English learning students, or ELs, has often been the responsibility of ESL (English as a second language) teachers or bilingual teachers. Even so, general education classroom teachers almost always see ELs for substantial parts of the school day, especially as their English language proficiency increases.

Do you work with students who speak other languages? In the United States, many teachers want to know “How can I make use of my students’ linguistic resources when I am unfamiliar with their languages?” New research and thinking about this question has resulted in a body of work that falls under the label of translanguaging. The foundational principle is that everything people know about language, regardless of how many they might speak, are part of only one language system. An important idea behind translanguaging is that the need to communicate pushes people to send and receive messages using all of the resources at their disposal (see García and Kleifgen, 2010).

García and Wei (2014) argue that teachers need not be bilingual to make use of translanguaging approaches to language and literacy learning. Canagarajah (2013) argues that what matters most is for teachers to help “students critically reflect on their choices through peer critique and intensive feedback.” For example, one of my doctoral students, Mark Pacheco (2015), has shown how a teacher who speaks only English worked with two Arabic-English speaking students who didn’t quite understand the difference between a pumpkin that was muddy and a pumpkin that was filled with mud. The students translated their understanding into Arabic and then explained their work. The teacher provided more information in English and the students revised their Arabic. Their negotiated understanding resulted in students’ increased knowledge of English and better comprehension.

Other important examples of translanguaging teaching can be found in the work of Jim Cummins (2007), who suggests that bilingual students use both their languages to write what he calls identity texts. Cummins shows that students with very limited knowledge of English meaningfully engaged in writing in both English and their first language. Borrero (2011) designed a program in which students were taught how to translate school documents for their parents. As a result, these students made gains in their English reading comprehension. My colleagues and I (Jiménez et al., 2015) have showed that middle-school students who translated carefully selected portions of English language text gained deeper understandings of their first language and English. This understanding, called metalinguistic awareness, has been linked to higher levels of reading comprehension.

Finally, we are finding that local teachers in the Nashville, TN, area have lots of ideas concerning how to better incorporate their students’ languages into their literacy instruction. One teacher shared a questionnaire he created in which he asked high school students to identify one part of an English language text that they found particularly difficult to translate. He also asked them to explain how they translated that part of the text. Students’ comments on these two items have helped us to better understand what happens when they translanguage. Second- and third-grade teachers have explained to us how translanguaging activities can be incorporated into their daily schedules as part of literacy instruction.

Robert Jiménez received his doctorate from the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. He was previously a faculty member at the University of Oregon and the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. He teaches courses in research methods, second language literacy, and issues related to the education of Latino/Latina students in the Peabody School at Vanderbilt University.

The ILA Literacy Research Panel uses this blog to connect educators around the world with research relevant to policy and practice. Reader response is welcomed via e-mail.