Good Things Come in Threes

Throughout our journey we have learned a lot about the adolescent psyche, including:

1 - the magic of positive peer pressure

Headed to the Boston Premiere!

2 - the power of the tease
3 - the importance of belonging
and
4 - the honor behind a name

You've heard us wax poetic about the first three, so that means it's high time we give due diligence to #4.

There's just something about a name; they have an almost mystical power.  To name a thing is to make it real, to lend it legitimacy.  And, lame as this may sound, kids like names.  The first two years of All In!, we were called all sorts of things.  The Hunger Games club, The School-Wide Read, The Hobbit book club, that thing Ms. O'Leary and that other lady do after school.  Then we picked a name.  Whoo boy!  Stand back!        

That's right.  Identify behaviors you like, slap a snazzy label on it, use it repeatedly, and watch it spread like wildfire.  The kids used the name and it made us real.  A sweet 7th grader passing her reaping whispered, "I got it?  I'm All In?"  An exuberant 6th grader shouted to the secretary, "Do you know what today is?  Today is All In!"  

Year three was the first year for another name as well.  We're not quite sure where we heard the term "Three-Peat" first…most likely it was a sports reference and since the CRL are admitted word nerds, it's not surprising that it stuck.  

Because our middle school consists of three grades and this was our third annual All In!, these eighth graders held a special place in our collective CRL heart. They had borne witness to literary shenanigans each and every year of their middle school careers and we were eager to discover just how many kids belonged to our trifecta. So one Saturday morning in January, we sat in front of three years' worth of reaping slips. We cross-referenced attendance sheets, checked names, and then checked again. As we wrote each name in a notebook, we could hardly contain our squees:

"Oh my gosh, he's one!"

"The Elizabeths!"

Right in front of our eyes the list came together, and we were overwhelmed. It was not the first time we looked at each other and said, "We do good things."

Our very first class of "Three-Peats"

There they were. Twenty-two of them. Eleven boys and eleven girls. Their educational needs ran the gamut: honors-bound, Special Ed, regular ed, 504, sub-separate.  They were athletes, mathletes, theater kids, and writers. They were honor roll students and struggling readers. They were members of the 6 Pillar Society and self-proclaimed "loners." Our three-peats.

They were the ones who said "Yes" when two teachers threw together a school-wide reading initiative during their sixth grade year, and blindly followed the CRL to destinations unknown. 
They were the ones who said "Yes" to reading THE HOBBIT in seventh grade.
And they were the ones who decided going All In! was cool enough for an eighth-grader.

Though 890 readers have followed, these kids were the very first to go All In!  They were brave. They allowed themselves to get excited about a book. They loved out loud. They taught us more about what motivates children to read than our combined two decades in the classroom.  And, at the risk of sounding overly emotional, they made us make sense.

Love out loud. And on a bus.

Reactions to the "Three-Peat" honor were just as unique as the children themselves, ranging from Mariah's "My mom is so excited for me!  We were jumping around and screaming last night!" to Luke's "I just did it all three years because I thought the books looked interesting." to Jake.  A child who, in 6th grade, had moved across the country and landed in CRL territory. He had always been an enthusiastic participant and plain 'ole good kid, but we never realized what this social outlet meant for him until recently. One day this spring, he handed us each a cupcake, took a breath, and said, "You have no idea what you've done for me. I guess good things were meant to happen."

Though we had discussed (at length) possible ways to honor these superlative teens, we had our secret hopes set on one thing; and, in an eleventh-hour miracle, our movie insider came through (again!) with tickets to the Boston premiere.

Now, how best to reveal the news?  Let's think...
We love spectacle.
We love surprises.
We love honoring our kids.

We quickly decided that an assembly was the way to go.  Balloons, posters, and flashy music aside, it was very important to us that those students receive recognition in front of the other participants. Bank on that positive peer pressure! We wanted the auditorium filled with students thinking, "I want to be up there next year."

And it worked.

After the assembly, Erin returned to her 7th-grade Wilson literacy class, which consists of children who require specialized instruction in reading and writing. As one young lady got up to retrieve her notebook she said, "I'm going to be a Three-Peat next year, which is so weird because I don't even like reading…"

March 18, 2014 was the US premiere of Divergent. Our generous principal paid for a coach bus to drive our cherubs into Boston to see the movie the night before the rest of America would be able to.   
That magical night out was our way of thanking them. We sat there grinning like idiots, hearing nothing but adolescent giggles, incessant chatter, "Is this Boston?" inquiries, and shrieks of "There's a bathroom on the bus!" We live-Tweeted the affair and found it amusing that, due to the time difference, we were *technically* seeing the movie before Shailene Woodley and Theo James. Joined by several staff members and Three-Peat parents, our evening was as fabulous as the honorees themselves, and well worth the sleep-deprived haze we all experienced when we tried to function the next morning.  

Standing at the helm of our swanky bus the night of the premiere, we took a moment with our DIVERGENT t-shirt-clad darlings. We would never have had the same success if not for our superlative eighth grade leaders.  We got teary and admitted that teachers often have the same fears as students: What if this doesn't work?  What if they don't like me? The energy and enthusiasm these kids brought made our jobs easy and ridiculously enjoyable. They made it worth every single second of confusion, panic, and late-night planning. Because they bought in, the rest of the school went All In! We were truly blessed with a phenomenal group of young people who trusted us and made this program exist.

Cheers to the Three-Peats.

We love you.

A work of heart

Warning: this post is about love.


I'm not talking about feeling passionate about my profession or developing a meaningful relationship with my students.  I am talking about plain and simple love.  See, I am a girl who loves freely and easily.  I'm a Polly Anna, a glass half full kind of person.  An optimist.  That means, typically, over the course of the year, I learn to appreciate all of my students, and feel sincere affection for most.  And there are a handful every year that I really and truly love.

This is uncomfortable stuff.  This is the kind of thing that raises eyebrows and leads to awkward conversations about professional boundaries.  I hope you'll trust me enough to understand what I mean.  I love these darlings like a mother.  I feel compelled to nurture them, I feel proud of their successes and ache with their struggles.  I feel more than just a general sense of concern.  I worry about them when they aren't with me.

I'm sure I'm not alone in loving my students, but here's the thing.  I'm not supposed to say it.  Teachers, especially teachers of older students, are not supposed to use the "L" word.  We are not supposed to touch students.  Hugs are verboten; even high fives are suspect. I should, for my own job security and need to C my own A, not acknowledge in any way that I feel emotion...even one I consider to be a completely human and 100% normal.  This is hard for me.  I've been a nurturer all my life - I parented my friends in high school and college until I had children of my own.  I can sense what a person needs - whether it's affirmation, tough love, or a turkey sandwich.  So when you put 85 kids in my room, it's like taking a compulsive gambler to a casino but telling them not to place a bet.  It's HARD.  But, as is the case in so many aspects of our job, teachers are held to a higher standard than other people.  While I understand the stakes and respect the circumstances that gave rise to the hands-off rules, I must be honest and admit that it's difficult.  But I do it.  I force myself to go against my instincts, rein myself in, and keep my cherubs, literally and figuratively, at arms length.   

Never is this ban on affection more difficult than at the end of the year.   Kids cry and the mom in me would love to wrap them up and stroke their hair while I reassure them that they're going to be just fine.  Instead, I hand them tissues.  They want to hug goodbye.  The mom in me would love to give big bear hugs.  Instead, I offer an exploding fist pump.  Is it the same?  No.  Is it enough?  I honestly don't know.  However,  I recently discovered a lovely little outlet that both gives the kids what they need and allows me to feel more honest in the way I'm interacting with my darlings: The Yearbook.

For years, my go-to strategy was to draw devil horns, mustache and goatee on my own picture.  I started adding a signature when kids got sent to the office for being disrespectful.  (That was a fun conversation. "No, Paul.  Tucker didn't do anything wrong.  I drew that. ...  Yes, the hairy mole, too.")  But that was back in the days when it was still okay to lay a gentle hand on an unfocused child's shoulder as a way to redirect them.  This was back in the days when I gave and received daily hugs and I didn't feel the emotional void that I do now.  So now, my yearbooks messages are significantly more personal. 

Please don't misunderstand:  I haven't given up on the devil horns completely.  There are still a good handful of kids for whom it would be almost insulting if I *didn't* deface my picture.  They LOVE devil Cotillo.  And I certainly don't mean to imply that all of my yearbook messages now are inspirational missives that will lead the US to victory in the next Olympics.  Quite a  few boys in my B period this year got "You were a pain in the butt in class.  Don't ever visit me.  EVER.  jk.  not really."  But I have decided that these yearbooks are too good of an opportunity to simply let them slip by with a playful scribble.  If I'm going to inspire my kids to love out loud, then I best lead by example.

This year, when our 8th graders were herded into a courtyard and set free to graze and sign yearbooks, I made a deliberate decision and wrote about the uncomfortable stuff.

I told a few that they are beautiful and begged them to believe me.
I told some they were smarter than they let on and begged them to stop hiding it.
I told a handful that I hope my children would grow up to be like them.
I wrote that I admired their courage, compassion, friendships, independence, insight, sense of humor, effort, and growth.

Most of my inscriptions ended with a drawn heart.  Some ended with the word "love."  In the books of three students I went all out and wrote the words "I love you."  

There is a very real possibility that I'll never know what impact those words have on my kids.  Maybe they don't need it as much as I sense they do.  But then again, maybe it really helps.  I can, however, share this wonderfully timed story.

I began writing this post on a Tuesday night.  It began as a jumble of unrelated thoughts about the end of the school year and somehow I found myself writing about the "L" word.  I left it unfinished and sent Erin a text to let her know that it was "more a brain dump than anything."

The next morning I took my son to swimming lessons at the YMCA.  (Living in the town where you teach is not for the faint of heart.  I once had a former student sell me a pregnancy test at CVS...no lie. But there are moments that make it all worth while.  This is absolutely one of them.)  So I'm sitting on the bleachers next to the humid indoor pool, wiping sweat from under my glasses, when I hear a voice ask, "Are you crying?"  It's Mia, a girl I taught six years ago.  She was my student "back in the day," and that girl loved to hug.  I will never forget how she would barrel into me.  I swear she got a running start.  When Mia hugged, she hugged HARD.  Just writing it makes me smile.  How could anyone be in a bad mood after one of Mia's hugs?!  But I digress... 20-something-year-old Mia stood before me that Wednesday morning, and she's no longer a bubbly 7th grader.  Instead I found my self chatting with a very confident, well spoken young lady who plans to work in the field of music therapy.  We spoke briefly, she caught me up on her life and I told her how proud I was of all she was accomplishing.  We hugged.  

As Mia bounced away from me, she threw a casual "love you!" over her shoulder.  I called back, "love you, too!"  She turned around, walking backwards so she could see me, and said, "I know."

"Can't"

Erin Explains It All to You. 

You know us pretty well at this point, dear reader.  And one of the first things you probably came to realize about the CRL was either:

1 - we love a good show
or 
2 - we'll do just about anything to get a child to read

Bearing that in mind, Mary and I thought you'd enjoy these two little stories about our recent experiences with the word "can't."

The Good Stuff
Last week, I had the privilege of meeting the new recruits.  Our two feeder elementary schools came to HMMS for the afternoon with the purpose of uniting the present 5th graders as an incoming class, and talking a little bit about what happens in middle school.

Days earlier, the CRL had talked about how best to introduce the new cherubs to the All In! experience.  Certainly, there would be teasing involved.  It's all about The Tease.  Gotta start early to get 'em good and hungry. We weren't sure what our schtick should be this time around.  Last year, I whipped out a sealed envelope during my presentation and told the kids that it held the title of the next book.

The kids LOVED it; the Principal - caught off guard and thinking we had decided on a book without telling him  - was none too pleased.  (He got over it.)

We went back and forth a bit, trying to figure out what to do with an audience full of incoming 6th graders.  We went our separate ways with an agreement to ponder.  Whilst I pondered, a student inquired, "Are the 5th graders coming on Friday?"

"Yes they are!"

"Wait, do you know the title of the book?"

I swear I uttered nothing, but apparently my eyes gave something away, because he stopped in his tracks and said,

"Oh my gosh you know don't you!  The envelope!  Oh you're gonna show them the envelope! That drove me nuts last year!"

And there it was.  We had to do it again.

So on Friday, decked out in my blingy CRL shirt, I spoke about my pet dragon and the Gollum Slalom, of factions and field trips, of toilet paper and exploding muffins, of 689 readers and three unforgettable books. 

And then I showed them what they could not have.  

Sometimes we wish there was a camera following us around, so when we tell you two-hundred kids leaned forward in their seats and all of a sudden wanted something so badly they could think of nothing else - one child literally started pulling his hair out - you could see it for yourself.  It was just magical.  We have them primed.

The first step has been taken for All In! 2015.

We know how to use the word "no."  By telling the kids they can't have something, it makes that "something" so ridiculously tempting, they will focus on little else.  It reminds us very much of last year.  Perhaps the long, drawn-out tease fed into our record-smashing number of participants?  

For now, the envelope sits in protective CRL custody.  We won't tell you what's written on the slip of paper that is tucked inside...but we will have to start locking our doors.

The Terrible-Awful
After that very same presentation, I was approached by one of the 5th grade teachers who pointed to the pile of All In! books in my arms.

"Do the kids read these books independently?"

Nobody tells these girls they "can't."

"Yep, it's all voluntary!"

I heard her exhale. 
Then she said, "But, what about the kids that can't?"

I channeled Mary, laughed a little bit, and said, "Oh, we've never had that problem!"

Unsatisfied, she kept going, "Well, they can't."

Now I knew what this was about.  We've heard it before.  A surprising number of parents and teachers are eager to tell us that their child can't read the book; but for some reason, her comment caught me off-guard.

Things I could have said but didn't:

• We have numbers. Lots of numbers, and a large number of students on IEPs participate in the school-wide read.  

• All In! gets kids reading.

• Positive peer pressure is extremely powerful.

• I'm not in the business of telling a child "You can't."

• Extrinsic motivation begets intrinsic motivation. We call it The CRL Effect.

• Have you READ our blog?

• Um, actually...it's the most popular club for Special Education students.  

• I could fill the next three hours with stories about students' experiences with All In! that would make you weep.

• This works.

• Just go to our website.

• Yeah. We got this.

Instead, I think I said, "Oh, I'm sure they can.  We have discussion groups, and calendars; some kids use audio, or read with their families..."

She wasn't done.

"Well, they don't understand it then."

"Yes; actually they all pass a test. That's one of the key elements of our program. It's really important that they get to have that success."

At this point, I'm sure she looked at my shirt and thought I really was crazy.  Not only do I think kids will read a book for fun, but they are also lining up to take a test?  She turned to leave.

"Well, good luck."
 

Parked outside the IRA14 convention center

I was absolutely boiling, and I couldn't wait to tell Mary.  See, she's usually the one tasked with talking me down when I get fired up about something.  Only that didn't work out so well this time.  See, Mary and I spend an awful lot of time together.  We're totally in sync.  She's a fiery one, that Cotillo, and if her "How DARE she?" and "Why exactly is that woman a teacher?" diatribe made me feel better about my own emotional reaction, it didn't really help shed light on the bigger question: Why did this bother me so much?

  

What, you don't post your notes on Instagram?

We've been reading To Kill a Mockingbird in 8th grade this past month, and these experiences got me thinking about Mrs. Dubose and her advice to Jem about killing camellias.  "'Next time you'll know how to do it right, won't you?  You'll pull it up by the roots, won't you?'"  Mary teaches her students that the camellia represents the growth of racism.  The older generations are the heads of the flower, and the children are the roots.  If you want to rid the world of racism, targeting old folks who have one foot in the grave will do you no good.  You have to go after the kids.  

If this experience doesn't dove tail perfectly, I don't know what does.  The KIDS are perfectly willing to buy in; it's the adults who have prejudices that are hard to over come.

By telling us that we didn't know what we were doing - and already doubting the abilities of our darlings AND our program - this teacher was simply showing her prejudices.  And we took it as one mighty insult.  "How DARE she?"

Now, let me channel my inner Atticus Finch and say maybe she was having a bad day.  Maybe she's come off of a very difficult year and struggling to keep her head above water.  Maybe she has a hard time with social cues; perhaps her question was sincere and she would be horrified to know that we are insulted.  Whatever the case, I don't think she was expecting a response, not one that she was prepared to agree with anyway.  By wishing us well, sincerely or not, she did have the last word.  And that's okay.  While the petals fade and fall, we'll be nurturing the roots. 

Now we'd better run.  We have another school-wide read to plan, and a few hundred middles to get ready for their biggest challenge and greatest victory.

Just watch.

IRA14 All In! Presentation

For those of you who attended our session at IRA 2014, THANK YOU.  You were kind, supportive, and understanding.  You all gave us just the positive energy we needed to overcome our technical woes.  Below you will find the content from the slide show we'd planned.  Please enjoy, pass it along to your friends, and let us know how we can help you lead your school on your very own literary adventure.  Go All In!

 

All In!™

Uniting One School with One Book

 Mary Cotillo and Erin O'Leary

Horace Mann Middle School, Franklin MA

Abnegation Erin and Amity Mary

 Meet The Crazy Reading Ladies

Mary Cotillo is an 8th grade ELA teacher at HMMS.  She's been teaching middle school for 12 years. 

Erin O'Leary is the Reading Specialist at HMMS.  She has been teaching for 9 years. 

Wait...what do y'all do again?

The Crazy Reading Ladies:

• help adolescents become book lovers
• empower teachers to be leaders in their school
• break social barriers
• promote community engagement

We have the kids follow a simple formula:

1. Read the Book
2. Show What You Know
3. See the Movie 
4. Join the Adventure

 Why We Rock (no really...we do)

2012 - The Hunger Games
221 kids, 42% of the school
(We were expecting 30 kids...we didn't think to keep data on subgroups!)

2013 - The Hobbit
188 kids, 38% of the school
41% of students with IEPs and 100% of ReAch* 

2014 - Divergent
280 kids, 59% of the school
31% of students with IEPs and 75% of ReAch

*ReAch is our emotional and behavioral sub-separate program

Choose Wisely 
 
No pressure, but don't blow it.

• Likeability
• If the kids don't like it, they won't read it

• Visibility
• Don't underestimate the value of Hollywood merchandising

•  Potential
• Field Trip!
• Teachability (yeah, totally not a real word)
• Appropriateness for your demographic

 When in doubt...

Text complexity and daunting page counts are not roadblocks; they are accomplishments waiting to be celebrated. 





Build Excitement
Just Say No

How do you get kids to care about a book?

It's about drama, pure and simple; create a buzz among the students and a frenetic desire to know the title.

If you do it right...
(No, you can't have him.)

• Videos
• Teachers
• Contests
• Costumes
• Propoganda
• Mystery

Incentivize
"But...reading is its own reward!"

Let the kids lead.

Good thing we didn't read any research first!

Anecdotal (and Adorable Evidence)
Florida goes All In!




How Stinkin' Cute Is He?

The CRL Effect: 
Extrinsic begets Intrinsic

Although the movie gets them to pick up the book, it's the story that keeps them reading and the sense of accomplishment that gets them to read the sequel.  




Support and Encourage
"But extra time is on my IEP!"

• Structure - calendars, deadlines
• Audio books
• Physical books
• Discussion groups
• Reading groups
• Public Library
• Encourage parent read-alouds

Hey, look!
Portfolio evidence for parent engagement!

Public library events promote community and belonging.
"When she reads, it works its way through the family."




Celebrate!
I always thought the lyrics were "Celebrate good times! Go Home!"

Assessments as celebrations? You must be crazy!
Um...yeah. 

Give then an opportunity to show what they know and celebrate their accomplishment. 

Right Where We Belong

• Literary Soul Mates
• Seredipity
  
• Just do it!

@allinreading
@allincotillo
@allinoleary

Visit our Official Website: allinreading.org






 

All In! is a product of Overwhelming Success, Inc., an Educational Non-Profit

 

              

 

The Agony (and Ecstasy) of Defeat

Get ready NOLA, here we come!

Are you going to #IRA14 this year?  

Please come see us at session 1923 on Sunday.  

We'd love to meet you!

If you have a kid enrolled in an extracurricular activity, have attended an awards ceremony for anyone under the age of 16, or have simply driven by a soccer field, you are probably familiar with the EGAT philosophy: Everybody Gets a Trophy.

Somewhere along the way, building a child's self esteem became more important than building resilience.  We learned that kids feel better about themselves when they are successful, and that somehow turned into "We must create successes for our students."

Although research has clarified the difference between the sense of satisfaction created for being awarded a trophy for showing up and one earned via true effort, that distinction hasn't really permeated the world of education.  Not yet.  Teachers still scramble to make sure kids feel success.  

Please don't think we're judging.  We do it in our classrooms, too.  It's hard to implement strategies that reflect a philosophy that kids learn more from failure than they do from success.  Maybe it's because failure has to be done in the "right" way - in a safe environment where students have multiple opportunities to show what they know and there isn't the pressure of a low grade ending up on a report card - something difficult to do in this world of high-stakes testing and an ever-increasing list of curricular demands.  But we digress.  



"I hope I win!"

This post is all about failure.  At a recent after school DIVERGENT activity, students were allowed to spend an hour playing whatever carnival game their heart desired (and an express order from Oriental Trader could provide).   Kids played for tickets to earn points for their faction.  You'd think they'll all go for the easy games, right?  Or gravitate toward the games they were good at.  Well, you'll likely be as surprised as we were.

Maybe WE are getting comfy in our blingy CRL shirts, seeing the light at the end of our Third Year tunnel (we may be tossing around book titles...) but thankfully, our students still have surprises left to reveal.

And we have a lot to learn from them.

Since Mary has the honor of having an All In! initiate under her roof, she had the inside scoop on how the kids enjoyed themselves at the carnival.

"Omigosh mom, that food can thing? That was my favorite. My friend and I were so horrible. We had to keep going until we knocked at least one down!"

Waiting in line to lose

At first, it was nothing more than a cute conversation the CRL shared the next morning. "What a cool kid - she liked the challenge!"

We thought that was it; thankfully, there's always more to the story.

After our Faction Initiation carnival, a student stopped Mary in the hall, telling us how much fun he had. Out of curiosity Mary asked, "What was your favorite part?" to which the Candor 6th grader replied, "Oh, the egg balancing thing! That was awesome!"

After this encounter, a puzzled Mary approached Erin's classroom and said, "You know the Candor boy you were with on Friday? The one you said couldn't balance an egg on his head to save his life? Apparently, that was his favorite activity."

Really? How could that be?  He was horrible at balancing that darn thing on his head.  He lost. A lot.

Lessons learned from our initiates

Sure enough, when we talked to Katie (who had manned Dauntless' Exploding Muffins) she told us about one Dauntless girl who never left the line. "She kept waiting her turn to go again. She really wanted to explode all three muffins.  She was awful; but man she was determined."

Now, we know 3 kids out of 100+ isn't much of a sample size, but still.  If three kids spent their time trying to master something they found challenging, we're willing to bet that others did, too.  It intrigued us so much that Mary posed a few questions to her 8th grade ELA classes the next day.  

Why are kids willing to battle frustration for an hour while trying to balance something on their head but they give up a the first sign of confusion with a homework assignment?  Why are kids willing to take risks on the sports fields but choose the easiest option when presented with school projects?  

The overwhelming response: fear.  

They fear failure.  They fear disappointing their teachers and parents.  They fear the low grade they could receive if they choose the harder option.  They fear the feeling in their stomach when they see the F on the paper.  They fear messing up when it counts.


All lined up and ready to fail
 for the fun of it!

Mary's brain was swimming with trying to figure out the implications of all that her students were saying, so she didn't press for more detail.  Instead, her addled brain managed to find one more question. 

What makes a challenge fun?  

Again, the response was clear.  Challenges are fun when they don't count.  Students will try anything as long as they know they won't lose credit or points or face.  If they aren't worried about being made fun of or criticized or getting an "F," they're willing and able to give it a shot.  

We're sure this isn't a groundbreaking observation; there are likely fifteen books written on the subject.  But somehow, when the issue comes off the page and becomes the flesh and blood kid standing in front of you with a grin on his bespectacled face, laughing at how he couldn't keep a wooden egg on his curly head, it becomes a whole lot more real.  

Here's our take.  When presented with a challenge, kids ask themselves "What if...?"  This is good.  We want them to consider potential outcomes for their actions!  The problem is their brains have negative answers at the ready, and what positive answers they can generate they do not trust.   So when they ask, "What if I get something wrong?", their brain replies with "Then you lose points" rather than "Then you'll get a chance to figure out what went wrong and try again."  When they ask, "What if I don't do well?"  They answer themselves with "Then you fail" instead of trusting that they'll have a chance to try again.  


Vinko Bogataj, aka: The Agony of Defeat Guy

Why did our DIVERGENT initiates spend all their time at one station, trying again and again and again?  There are a multitude of factors at work.  One reason would be because of the teachers at each station saying, "That's okay!  You're getting better!  Try again!"  No one said they'd used up all their tries.  No one told them they had to move on to another unit.  Another reason would be because it didn't count.  Sure they were playing for tickets, but there was no report card grade attached to their success or failure at using a beanbag to knock over a pile of cans.  They were playing for something greater than tickets; they were playing for pride and the sense of accomplishment that comes with improvement.  

We share this story more to share inspiration than anything else.  Our takeaway:  under the right circumstances, students don't mind struggle.  In fact, they enjoy it. Your classroom can be fun *and* challenging, the two are not mutually exclusive.  What are those perfect circumstances? Well, we wish we could wrap up this post with a cure-all suggestion for making your classroom a place where students try, try, try until they can pump their fist and say, "Yes!" when they experience success.  The truth is, though, that while we have more insight than we once did, we're still lacking in the strategies department. 

This is where you come in.  If you have strategies for creating an environment where students embrace challenge rather than avoid it, please share them in the comments section.  Thanks! 

Six Buses

"Be sure you get all six in the picture!"

In the Fall of 2012, after THE HUNGER GAMES and before THE HOBBIT, our Principal (sarcastically? seriously? we'll never know) mentioned that our goal was to load six buses full of readers.  The gauntlet had been thrown and, over the last year-and-a-half, the battle cry of "six buses" echoed through the hallway and peppered our casual conversations.  We knew it was sort of a joke, but we'd be kidding you if we didn't have that set as a dream in the back of our collective CRL brain. 



Little Miss CRL was All In! this year;
she turned in her slip the very next day.

On March 21, 2014 it happened. We got our six buses.

By field trip standards, this was remarkably easy.  At one point we looked at each other and said, "Are you kidding me?  Was it just that easy?" With two hundred forty-five students, twenty faculty members, and four parents, the odds were certainly stacked for something to go awry...but nothing ever did.  Our abundance of literate colleagues and parents ensured that the CRL and Principal were not even assigned a group.  We got to bounce around, take pictures, and take notes. Yes, the brilliant one began this blog post in the theater.

Allow Mary and Erin to relive their favorite moments from the movie:

• We fully expected the Tris/Four kiss to be the squee-fest that it was. Our kids ate it up! Their reaction was adolescent-adorable. It was such fun to watch them see it on the big screen.

• When Theo James asked a theater full of middle schoolers (and their teachers) if we "Want to see" his tattoos, the answer came in screaming and cat-calling unison: "YES!!!" One precocious 6th grader bemoaned that he spent most of the movie with his upper half clothed. 
• The knife that sliced through Jeanine's hand was a Hollywood add-on - one our kids didn't see coming - and they loved it.  That was cause for more cheers and spontaneous applause.  And actually, a lot of boys cited that as their favorite moment in the whole film.  (Aside: When I taught 2nd-Grade boys, I remember one year we were working on a mural and there was one teensy spot of blood that needed to be painted on the character's hand.  There was such tear-filled debate over who was going to paint the red spot - on an 8-foot mural - that I told the art teacher to paint it himself.)
• Christina's test of courage was remarkably underwhelming.  We heard someone ask: "Where are the rapids?"  "Yea. She was just hanging above a cliff. No crashing waves, no splashing water". For the record, Lionsgate, HMMS was not impressed.  Didn't you people read the book?
• Our sweetheart Lucy. She's had a rough year, and reading DIVERGENT was a huge accomplishment - one that allowed her to experience school in a positive light.  She was on the edge of her seat the entire movie and said this was one of the best days of her life.  She was so proud...it was her first year going All In! and she wore her shirt every day that week.
• When the Dauntless manifesto was read, our kids proclaimed it right along with...what was his name? Was that guy even a character in the book?  I don't know, but he used to be on ER. 
• At the start of Phase 2: Dauntless initiation, we heard a psyched someone shout "Yes! Fear landscape!"
• We heard them shout "Yes!" again when it was time for Capture the Flag; but again, our critics were not very impressed, "Where are the paintballs?" And the major change to Tris single-handedly retrieving the flag and claiming victory?  We just shook our heads.  It'll sure be nice when Hollywood comes to us before turning books into movies.
• Mary brought Erin's attention to a the name "Erin" sitting at the very bottom of the scoreboard after Phase 1 of Dauntless Initiation.  She nudged her, "You're in last place." To which Erin responded, "I'd still be riding the **** train." No worries...Mary will take care of Erin at the Amity compound!
  
• We tried to get a student-filled-cinema picture for our collection - we have a theater picture from each year - but they never turned our lights back on.  We did get some cute video, though.  The movie ended, "Find You" played, and Mary said, "Wait for it, they're gonna sing!" and sure enough, they sang right along as the credits rolled.  A-DOR-A-BLE! 

It was such a joy to share this day with our kiddos and each other.  Since we had seen the movie with our Three-Peats several days prior, we could enjoy watching our cherubs. Yep, we spent over two hours watching them watch the movie. 

 Believe us when we tell you that there's nothing like watching a movie with a few hundred adolescent readers.  Their audible reactions - moments of shrieks and sheer silence - postures, gasps, and giggles are worth every second of planning, strife, and stress.  

When you go All In, the good always outweighs the bad. 

Here's our 2014 Commemorative Field Trip video.

This year, we created an online DIVERGENT course using our school's ItsLearning portal. We've posted polls, videos, and discussion board questions for our kiddos (it saw a lot of action over February break...it was super cool to keep the conversation going.)  So this year, thanks to the poll feature, we actually have a pretty graph to show how our kids voted in response to the question Book or Movie? 

In case you were wondering...

With numbers like that,
I think our job is done.

                                                

Mary @allincotillo
Erin @allinoleary
CRL @allinreading 

Initiation

Black and white, baby!

If you've read DIVERGENT, you wouldn't be surprised that our kids expected an initiation.  We expected to host one, too.  It also won't surprise you that we put a CRL spin on things. After our Principal cancelled the order of serum injections, we were left with very few options.



Exploding muffins

We started with the idea of running five separate initiations.  We brainstormed a different activity for each faction, playing to their strengths: logic puzzles for Erudite, target practice for Dauntless, that sort of thing. But after days of planning (and several orders of takeout) we couldn't think of much for our humble Abnegation kiddos except community service.  Sure, we could have them help teachers after school, clean out lockers, and wash desks for points.  They'd do it...we knew they would...but it seemed heartless to have them traipse around the school with a trashcan and Clorox wipes while they heard Dauntless shouts coming from the gymnasium. 

Somewhere along the way, perhaps whilst perusing an Oriental Trading catalog, we stumbled upon the idea of a carnival.  You know when something just *feels* right?  Well, this was one of those moments.  We started out calling paintball venues and ended up with a carnival. Whoda guessed?!



Oh yes: PLINKO! We bought two.

With our minds (and budget) set on a carnival,
we quickly switched gears from meaningful-literary-connections to good old fashioned fun.  Instead of selecting stations for each faction ahead of time, we decided on a Free-For-All.  All stations would be open to all factions; let 'em run around for an hour with their friends and collect tickets and just be kids.  What a liberating concept!


Our darling Amity kiddos, seated in a circle.

Of course, we couldn't completely turn our back on the idea of connecting to the book.  Instead of pretending to have uncovered deeper symbolic meaning in the throwing of a beanbag at a clown, we openly acknowledged our silliness.  In explaining the event to the kids just before opening the games, Mary said, "We made a few connections, a few very LOOSE connections to the factions, but really the point of today is just for you to have fun."  Then the students were free to explore:

Dauntless Target Practice - throwing a beanbag at a clown/net/thing.
Candor's Balancing Act - walk a circuit with a wooden egg balanced on your head
Amity's Duck Pond - play Duck Duck Goose.  Winners get to pick a duck from the pond.  
Abnegation's Break Time at the Food Pantry - throw a ball to knock down cans
Candor Lets the Chips Fall Where They May - Plinko!
Erudite's Potential to Kinetic Energy Transfer - ring toss
Abnegation Tunic Trot - sack race
Erudite's Food Chain Fling - use a rubber frog to shoot down foam apples
Dauntless Exploding Muffin - balloon darts
Around the Amity Campfire - sing songs with your friends!

Pick a winner at the Amity duck pond.

Looking back, we made a lot of decisions based on what was easier for us. Stations were set up, scripts were given to Faction Leaders (aka our fabulous colleagues who gave up yet another Friday afternoon to come play), and tickets were allotted.  Taking into account the varying populations of our factions, the CRL decided to work in some math and award points based on tickets per capita. Be impressed. Be very impressed.



"Every year, we're doing a sack race."

The kids took the attendance. (Dauntless wouldn't sit still long enough to allow their 8th grade representative to get an accurate headcount.  Amity seated themselves in a circle while a sweet little 6th grade girl calmly led the roll call.) The kids tallied their tickets. (Dauntless asked for a calculator while struggling to add their points together.  Erudite presented Erin with their total and had already factored their percentage, down to two decimal points.  We kid you not.)



We were absolutely overwhelmed by the teachers who came to help. A few teachers made it a family event by bringing their elementary aged children in to play.  Our collective CRL heart melted when again we had a dozen high schoolers return to HMMS - this time surprising their teachers with costume changes! - eager to take over Initiation games.  Every single station was manned by a staff volunteer so we were free to just take it all in...laugh out loud at the sheer joy of kids jumping in sacks (on Friday we decided no matter what book we do, we will always have a sack race), offering suggestions for egg balancing to those with slippery hair, cheering on the girls who just would not give up until they'd popped that darn balloon!  

We did get just a little punchy when deciding point values for the activities.  Mary is still laughing about putting a 2 on the bottom of each and every duck in the pond.  

Everyone is a winner, get it? Amity doesn't have competition!



Loving the chaos on Initiation Afternoon

The exceedingly patient colleague who worked the duck pond on Friday reports there was only one riot when the kids figured out the schtick.  Most, though, were happy to just go along for the ride.  In one of the afternoon's more memorable moments, an eighth-grade boy - who had his eye on the kids seated in a circle around a dozen plastic floating ducks - asked, "Is this Duck Duck Goose?" When he received an affirmative, he nodded sagely and sat down, declaring, "I like it!"

Faculty throwdown

Now, if you know anything about the CRL, you know we love spectacle.  It just so happens that Oriental Trading sells carnival supplies *and* sumo wrestling inflatables.  What does one have to do with the other?  We have no idea, but could you say no to giant sumo inflatables?  Yeah, we couldn't either.  Initially, we thought the sumo wrestling could be the Dauntless initiation.  But we didn't want the kids to fall and break themselves, so we saved the wrestling for the finale and allowed teachers to suit up for bonus points for the faction of their choice.  Besides saying we work with the absolute best colleagues in the world, we'll let the photo speak for itself.  


Shameless Plug: We'd love for you to join us this Thursday night, 3/13/14, at 8:00pm for a Twitter discussion about student engagement and motivation with book clubs #IRAchat

-Mary and Erin
@allincotillo @allinoleary