If You Give a Tween a Twitter...

If you give a tween a twitter, he'll probably want a hashtag to go with it.  But he won't know what a hashtag is.  Or what to tweet.  So you'll give him a prompt.

If you give him a prompt, he'll probably want to to tweet an answer, so he'll jump right in and start writing.  But if you give a tween a twitter, he only has 140 characters.  So he has to slow down.  And think.  And decide which words are best.  And he's not sure which words are best.  So he'll probably ask a friend.



Tweet tonight's homework.
Dogs haven't eaten any of my students' computers...yet.

If he asks the friend, the friend might not know.  So they'll ask another friend.  And maybe even someone they aren't friends with.  They might start a conversation with the new girl they just met two days ago.  And they might laugh a little at the funny words they're using.  And that new girl might make a friend.

If a tween makes a friend, she just might feel a little better about starting middle school, a little more willing to come to school each day, a little more courageous in answering questions and raising her hand and putting herself out there.  If a tween makes a friend, she will probably feel happy.

If a tween feels happy, and has a friend, and you ask her to tweet, she'll probably do it.  And later she'll want to see if anyone has followed her.  So she'll log in from home.  And she'll see other students' answers to prompts.  And she'll reconsider her original position.  And even if she's nervous about raising her hand in class, she'll probably feel okay about replying online.  And she'll retweet someone.  And someone will reply to her.  And retweet her.  And she'll have an virtual discussion with her peers about schoolwork, without even realizing that she's learning.

If you give a tween a twitter, they'll probably think about your class after they leave the room.  If you give a tween a twitter, he'll and work with friends and reflect on word choice.  If you give a tween a twitter, she'll actually want to do the assignment because it's FUN.

The 21st century educator:
Hooked in and unhinged

If you give a teacher a twitter, she will probably want a glass of wine to go with it.

The teacher will probably think of a news story in which a stupid teacher did a stupid thing and social media was involved.  And they'll think, "Isn't social media BAD?" and "Won't I get in TROUBLE?" and "Hashtag?  That sounds illegal."  And they'll probably long for the good ol' days of mimeograph machines and overheads, a time when life was simple and "tweet" was an example of onomatopoeia.

If you give a teacher a twitter, it will probably take a while for them to feel comfortable.  But if the teacher gives twitter a try, they'll probably get hooked.  They'll probably start by following their colleagues and tweeting about weekend plans.  Then they'll probably click on a link to a video or a infographic or a picture.  And they'll think, "that's really smart."  And they'll find something they can use.  And they post something insightful that gets retweeted.  And maybe they'll catch the attention of someone who knows what they're doing, and they'll have a, "Oh my god!  @RickWormeli just replied to my tweet!" moment, and then there's no going back.

@allinoleary @mzcotillo ... Just sayin'.

If you give a teacher a twitter, they'll probably realize that there is a vast online community of passionate, engaged, and not at all creepy or unprofessional teachers who are "out there" sharing ideas and best practices and focused on what's in the best interests of students.  And teachers will probably find it inspiring, and exciting, and empowering.  And they'll probably start counting their followers and comparing their total with their colleagues in a bizarre sort of competition of who is dorkier and cooler at the same time.  

This blog has spread primarily through Facebook and Twitter.  So now we ask our cool and dorky readers - how are you using social media to your advantage?  Comment below - we won't make you stick to 140 characters. #CRL 

#ILD13 - Invent Your Future!

The Crazy Reading Ladies are coming at you in stereo today!  We share a brain; why not a voice?

#ILD13

International Literacy Day was Monday, September 9th.  To celebrate, we decided to focus on the International Reading Association's theme: Invent Your Future.   Our middle school students were encouraged to participate by writing their future headlines.  What better way to set goals and look forward than by imagining one's accomplishments being lauded on the front page of The New York Times?

As several "helpful" colleagues were clever enough to point out, we are unlikely to actually HAVE print news in twenty years, but we stuck with the idea of writing a headline.  Mary gets all her news from online sources, and all her sites have lead stories with larger font and subheadings, so she says the format still works.

In pursuing the concept of headlines in general, we knew we needed to provide examples for our students.  During our search for famous newspaper headlines, Mary brilliantly commented, "We only want achievements.  We don't need students declaring war.  Let's show them some of our greatest accomplishments."

We relied on Erin's iMovie skills to introduce the idea.  Students received instruction via the school video news Friday morning.

On every table in the cafeteria

We provided students with headline models and a template at lunch on Friday.  We left papers on the tables themselves so teachers didn't have to remember to pass anything out and students didn't have to remember to go somewhere to pick something up.  If you want participation, you gotta make it easy.  We've been teaching middle school long enough to know not to expect the mountain to come to Mohammad.

Due date flyers posted on the cafeteria doors were coupled with strategically placed extra templates as students entered the building.  Mary reminded her students on Instagram and provided incentive in the form of extra credit.  (See previous mountain/Mohammad comment.) 

The "BEFORE" picture

"AFTER" a little lunch-time nudge

On Monday, Erin risked life, limb, and an unsafe driving citation to deliver a plethora of balloons and other shiny decorations.  The Crazy Reading Ladies believe in spectacle.  Go big or go home.  If you're not willing to festoon the lobby with ten foot banners, confetti, balloons, and cellophane centerpieces, then get out of the way because you just may be stampeded by overzealous teachers in blingy reading shirts. 



Mary's a "Reading Diva." Erin says "Reading Rocks!"

There are a lot of future Oscar winners in 7th grade

Perhaps not unexpectedly, boxes in the lobby and collections in various academic classes yielded only a handful of headlines.  So we did what any crazy reading ladies would do: we set up camp during lunch and invaded the cafeteria.  We circulated among tables shouting, "Write your headlines!  Grab a friend!  I have extras!  I have markers!  GO!  GO!  GO!!" That did it.  We've always believed that aggression has its place in encouraging young adult literacy.  

There's something, too, about mob mentality.  We've said it before, and we'll say it again: there is safety in numbers.  Ask one thirteen year-old boy to write a headline, and he'll mumble and shrug and avoid your gaze.  Have a peer command them to write a headline, and they'll engulf your festively decorated table en masse and develop cures for thyroid disease. 

By the end of the day, we had about seventy headlines which are now proudly displayed in the HMMS lobby.  Should this visual spur any student to complete a headline after today, we'll happily accept it and display it along with the others.

 Teachers in our building put their own spin on the idea of helping students invent their futures.  One eighth grade social studies teacher showed an inspirational YouTube video about high school students who are changing the world with their ideas.  A seventh-grade social studies teacher read a UN article talking about literacy's role in preventing poverty.  His seventh grade counterpart and our administrators tweeted their headlines. 

One teacher commented that she appreciated the opportunity to engage in conversation with students.  It's one thing to ask, "what do you want to be when you grown up," but it's quite another to inquire about the legacy they want to leave behind.  How do they want to be remembered?  These conversations build relationships and allow teachers to connect with students in a meaningful way.  Helping a student realize that they can channel their current hobby into a meaningful career is, simply, really cool. 

And so are the headlines we received.  Most students used their full names in their headlines, so we don't have too many to show you.  The ones we can share are below.  

We challenge you to write your future headline.  It's not easy!  Write your future in the comments below or tweet us! @allinoleary @mzcotillo  #CRL #ILD13

#1st5days

Erin:
Our Principal has been known to show some pretty rockin' videos at staff meetings and they typically fall into one of two categories:

a) hysterically funny 
or 
b) inspiring. 

Our guiding mantra.

At the occasion of our first gathering of the school year, he unveiled one of the latter and we watched teachers around the globe talk about the benefits of forming a solid foundation of trust and communication with their students.  

And then he issued a challenge: Don't teach any content during the first five days of school.

Thought #1 - Crap.
Thought #2 - This could be really, really awesome.

With less than twelve hours until students walked into my room, I resisted the urge to scour the internet for fantabulously creative activities.  Thankfully, sanity won out.  I chose a good night's sleep and just kind of trusted that the kids would show me what they needed, and I prayed that I was up to the challenge.

Mary:
My team decided to pick up our principal's thrown gauntlet, and we embarked on a three-day team-building quest.  We began with an in-depth look at the HMMS 6 Pillars of Character: Trustworthiness, Respect, Responsibility, Fairness, Caring, Citizenship.  Each content area teacher, special ed teacher, and the school adjustment counselor took one pillar and created a short presentation.  We worked independently, so one adult didn't know what the others would be presenting.  Some simply stood before the students and spoke passionately.  Others engaged the students in hands-on activities, or showed You Tube videos and PowerPoint presentations.  By the end of the short assembly, the students had not only experienced a refresher on the Pillars, but an introduction to the teachers.  

"No One Gets Left Behind"

Somewhat reluctantly we set aside our old team name, The Dream Catchers, and agreed to let our current students name themselves.  The kids worked in groups in homeroom to create meaningful names, logos, and mottoes.  Within homerooms the suggestions were narrowed down to two, and the final eight presented and justified their creations to the whole team in the auditorium.  The students rated each presentation on:
1. how well the name reflected our core values
2. how well the logo captured the spirit of the team
3. the appropriateness of the motto.  

Once the points are tallied (I'll update in comments!), we'll have a new team identity. And each student had a hand in building it.

Erin: 
Over the course of the First Five Days, I wrote open-ended questions on the surface of a beach ball and threw it at my children.  And we stood on chairs and called each other dorks.  And we wore each other's shoes.

I found out what they feared, what they considered to be their greatest accomplishments, the worst thing a teacher could do, and how they'd spend one million dollars.  I'm somewhat ashamed to admit that I found out new information about students who've sat in my room for two years.

Another activity (impulsively named Four Card Draw) gave them two minutes to reflect on each of four topics.  For three of the prompts, they only shared what they cared to, but for the fourth "I expect good teachers to..." I made them read aloud to the class and I sat down with a pencil.  

At your service!

"Wait, you're writing this down?" 

"Of course.  I want to know what you need from me and I'm going to do the best I can to do exactly that."

Turns out, their requests were remarkably simple.  One even said "Have a smile on your face," but the light in my students' eyes told me they felt respected - honored that I simply asked their input.  Just like that, we were on the same page.  And we were bonded.

By the time our last activity rolled around, I knew this had worked because I had the kind of goosebumps moment about which teachers only dream. 

Mary:
My first day with my new cherubs, I passed around a roll of toilet paper and told the kids to take what they thought they would need, but I kept mum about exactly why they would need it.  Once everyone had some squares to spare, I asked them to share tidbits of information about themselves - one tidbit per square.  I soon became privy (see what I did there...?) to the fact that I was sharing my classroom with artists, dancers, football players, musicians, BBQ lovers, poets, readers, gamers, equestriennes, baseball fanatics, actors and actresses, and one kindred Shakespeare devotee. I learned that three students have hermit crabs for pets, but only one of those kids bothered to name their crustacean ("Crabby").  I learned that students had traveled to St. John's and St. Thomas over the summer, that others have never left the country. 

I took squares, too.  Before I volunteered information, I asked if there was anything they wanted to know.  It struck me as bitter sweet that their questions were so basic.  What is my first name?  Do I have children?  It requires so little to build the foundations of a relationship!  They now know that my full name is Mary Beth Varney Cotillo, the names and ages of my kids, that my favorite ice cream flavor is Ben and Jerry's Chocolate Therapy, but if I had to choose one dessert for the rest of my life I'd have to go with chocolate layer cake.  Oh, and if an 8th grader asks, I'm 29.  (Help a girl out, would you?)

Erin:
Not only did I notice that our kids bonded with their 29 year-old teachers, but they quickly attached to each other.  During one class' run at Four Card Draw, an eighth-grade boy got stuck.  He couldn't think of anything that made him unique.  I have to be honest, he was the only child that struggled with this.  It was unfathomable to me to leave him with a blank yellow card and thankfully, heaven intervened.  When another student piped up a question, that young man answered and I said "There you go!  You just inspired him.  Did you see?  You gave him an idea!"  His eyes lit up and he began to write.

You are unique.  You are inspiring.

And so there, on a bright yellow card, is the word "inspiring."

For my final activity I staged a scavenger hunt.  After stealing all of Mary's clipboards, I hid "I am" prompts around the room and let my kids loose with paper and a pencil, instructing them to spend no more than 60 seconds at each one.  

Now, if I told them they were going to write a poem, I would have had a mass exodus to the bathroom, or the nurse, or the Army recruiting office...anywhere.  I may have even seen tears.  See, I work with struggling learners for whom reading and writing do not come easily.  Mine is a replacement class where students receive specialized instruction in literacy skills.   Yet in just fifty-three minutes - one class period - every single student had completed an eighteen-line poem.  I've never experienced anything like it.

After one student printed her final version, I read in response to "I understand" she had written, "I understand C1".  It took me a moment to figure out what that meant.  Then it hit me: C1.  That was my class.  On day three of school, this young lady felt like she belonged.  How does it possibly get any better than that?

Mary:
I'm not going to lie, these team building activities were exhausting.  Teachers threw together pillar presentations overnight.  We sacrificed every second of our planning time to conceiving, creating, and distributing materials to facilitate our re-branding.  We wrangled summer-antsy kids back into group work in a fairly unstructured setting.  It was messy.  It was loud.  Honestly, it would have been a LOT easier to just jump into literature terms and start my short story unit.

But there is no question that the investment of time and energy paid huge dividends.  On Friday afternoon, on her way out the door, one young lady observed, "I love our new team. I think this year is going to be fun."  And I can't ask for more than that.   

So, what's your take on the #1st5days?  Please comment or tweet your thoughts #CRL  

Mary @mzcotillo
Erin @allinoleary

The Joy of the Book Club

Erin: 
As Mary and I first addressed in When T-Shirts Unite, the need to belong is a powerful tool that we, as educators often neglect to recognize.  There is more than strength in numbers.  There is conversation.  There is conversion.  There is growth.  There is human connection; there is fun!  

For me, a reading is most enjoyable when I am able to share the book - and my plentiful opinions - with anyone who will listen.  My mom and I always swap books and it's usually accompanied by, "You have to read this.  Let me know when you're done."

"...and then she discovers Christian's Red Room."

The success of our school-wide reading initiatives showed us how much our students benefited from a social connection, and after seeing how much fun they had reading a book together, we teachers decided to have a summer book club - taking our dorkiness to a whole new level.  

There's something so delightful about sitting around a table discussing a book...and having smarter people explain the stuff you didn't "get." Plus, knowing that other people are counting on you is just the motivation you need to finish that horrendous novel.  Yes, even crazy reading ladies are allowed to hate books.  

We read two books together this summer (which, by the way, is the minimum for our students).  Our discussions were largely unstructured, but we each came with our own notes and comments, interpretations and opinions, and we easily filled two to three hours.  It was wonderful and incredibly enjoyable.  Conversation, conversion, and amazing food were abundant. The discussion of our first (fantastic) book brought me from appreciation to absolute awe, and that of our second (not so fantastic) salvaged my opinion from frustration on the brink of insanity all the way to tolerance.  Maybe.

We've already decided we will definitely read another book, but with the school year starting today (cue confetti), we decided to hold off on scheduling a meeting date.  Perhaps the first snow day would be convenient.

Mary:
It's hard for me to put into words just how much I appreciated our summer book club.  I think one of the things that I most enjoyed was the unanticipated pleasure.  I'm sure that sounds ridiculous; I'm an English teacher, and I lead hundreds of kids in book clubs.  Seriously, shouldn't I have expected it to be fun?  I guess I don't know what I expected, but I was really and truly blindsided by how much I enjoyed the community aspect of reading.

Unlike Erin, I don't tend to read with other folks.  I may swap books with my sister or neighbors, but we don't really talk about them afterwards beyond the obligatory "Wasn't it, like, SO GOOD?!"  I do most of my reading on my own.  If I read an article I think would interest another person, I forward it along, but that's pretty much the extent of my collaborative reading. In my life, I don't generally read a book with peers with the goal of sitting and sharing ideas, processing symbolism, questioning author's purpose, and enhancing my understanding and enjoyment of complicated text.  Nope...that's not for me!  It's just the stuff I save for my 13 year old students.  *headdesk*


Participating in this book group was eye opening.  The first book, The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman, I loved.  Midway through the book I began noticing what I thought was nontraditional allegory, but wasn't entirely sure I was "right."  Like the good dork that I am, I began marking quotations so I could support my argument, but I wasn't sure I was willing to put my ideas out to the group.  Would they think I was nuts?  Luckily, another reader made similar connections, and thus it felt safe for me to share my female holy trinity theory.  Strength in numbers!


As much as I enjoyed that first meeting, I enjoyed the discussion of our second book, The Incredible Lives of Greta Wells by Andrew Sean Greer, more.  And it was because I didn't like the book.  Really.  At all.  I forced myself to finish it because I made a commitment to the group, but it was a struggle.  The conversation began with someone posing the question, "What did you think of Dr. Cerletti?" and I realized I hadn't thought of him at all.  The conversation progressed into other topics that I either missed or chose to ignore.  It was a very, very valuable experience for me to spend time dissecting a text I didn't like.  I can't say our conversation made me a fan of the novel, but I certainly like it more now that I did after reading it alone. 

 As a teacher, how can I not reflect on these experiences?  I send my kids home to read and take notes on an almost nightly basis.  How many of them really dislike what they are being forced to read?  How many worry about being "right?"  How many class periods go by when I, the-all-powerful-teacher, never mention the cool thing a student happened to notice whilst reading?  If I make my role smaller and their role larger, would they feel safer and more willing to share?  Would they lead each other to a deeper understanding of and greater appreciation for their reading?  I certainly hope so. 

The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman

Erin and I are planning to stir up the 8th grade curriculum this year.  Teacher generated reading guides are on the way out, and small group reading communities are in.  There are still a lot (a LOT) of wrinkles to be ironed out, but we'll keep you posted. 

Mary @mzcotillo
Erin @allinoleary

The List

Erin:  
There is a secret list.  We Literary Dorks all have one.  The List of Books You Should Have Read in Order to Have an Intellectual Conversation.

 Mary: 

Rochester could totally take Darcy.  Just sayin'

For years I feigned familiarity when other literary folks made references to Heathcliff and Cathy, the madwoman in the attic, or Colin Firth making such a delicious Darcy.  It was exhausting and embarrassing, so five or six years ago I gave myself the assignment of reading all the Brit Lit classics that my high school teachers ignored and my college professors assumed I'd already read: Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility, Wuthering Heights, and Jane Eyre.  ~sigh~  Jane Eyre.  I can honestly say without a trace of hyperbole that my life has not been the same since.  How did I live without Jane?! She's smart, strong, and passionate.  She is everything I want a heroine to be.  She is everything I want to be.      
 
Erin:
My name is Erin.  I have an English degree and a Reading Specialist license, and I have never read Pride and Prejudice. Or Jane Eyre. Or Emma.  Yes, I know, this revelation might result in public shaming.  I've beaten myself up over it too.  But this summer, I'm making amends.  Two days ago, I started Pride and Prejudice.  

I made it about fifty pages in before I reached for a pencil and a stack of sticky notes.  (It's my blog.  Laugh all you want.)  Some passages made me laugh out loud; others had me picturing walls of my house decorated with Austen wisdom in beautiful script...

"I would rather be paid the compliment of being believed sincere."

"Those who do not complain are never pitied."

"I have no pleasure in talking to undutiful children."

Thank you Ms. Austen.

It's about time I read Pride and Prejudice; I feel better about myself already.  I'm not ashamed to admit I have to read this book quite slowly.  The house has to be quiet.  Georgian-Era English sometimes feels like a foreign language; I am not used to this kind of writing.  Sometimes I even go back and re-read passages.  I make notes in the margins, look up words, and summarize events of the chapter.  But the story is fantastic and somehow, when comparing this book to contemporary fiction, I am in awe that Jane Austen has succeeded in doing far more with far fewer words than writers have at their disposal today.  

Mary: 
When you experience a gem like Pride and Prejudice or Jane Eyre, you wonder, "What else am I missing?"  Since the rest of the educated world seems to think Moby Dick is worth a gander, shouldn't I?  What about War and Peace? Ulysses?  (Yeah, yeah, I wrote a paper on Ulysses my senior year of college.  That doesn't mean I read it).  My List seems to grow and grow.  Crime and Punishment, I'm somewhat ashamed to admit, is on the list because I'm competitive.  My boyfriend has read it and quotes it, and I can't say anything in return.  And that irks me.  A lot.  He's a scientist, dammit; I'm the dork in this relationship, thank you very much.  So, to reclaim my title, I'm gonna read the bleeping book, whether I like it or not.  

See, that's the thing with The List: sometimes, you end up reading things that are, well, not so fun.  I tried Madam Bovary this summer.  It took three days and much effort to make it to Chapter Eight, and then I just sort of lost interest.  

(Okay, okay.  Since it's a confession, I'll be honest.  I was bored out of my mind and wondered if maybe I could skim ahead a little.  So I looked up a chapter-by-chapter plot summary on Sparknotes and decided my Literary Dork tiara would not be tarnished if I put aside Madame Bovary for good.)

Erin:
Both Mary and I read The Hobbit for the first time this year - and that is only because we were leading a parade of middle school dwarves on a riotous romp through Tolkien.  We read it because we told them to.  And I'll let you in on a little secret: we didn't love it.  The language was beautiful, I appreciate its significance, and I understand why the story has lasted 75 years, but it just didn't do it for either of us; however, something inside us felt accomplished.  Popular culture and society at large (and every person possessing a Y chromosome) make reference to Gollum, Gandalf, and the gang.  Now we are "in."  This is something we should have read, and now we have.   

The Hobbit is officially crossed off the The List.  Soon, Pride and Prejudice will be.  I am tempted to tackle Emma next, but I fear Mary will lock me in an attic if my next conquest isn't Jane Eyre. 

So, dear reader, pray tell us.  What's on your List?  

So...whatcha readin'?

Mary: 
I love summer.  Not just because I can sleep past 5am and eat homemade blueberry cake for breakfast and eschew stockings and makeup most days - though all of those things are truly fabulous.  No.  I love summer because I have time to read.  (Insert blissed-out sigh here.)

Oh sure, I find or make time to read during the school year, but summer is different.  Summer means the kind of reading I love to do...the kind when I disappear into the author's world for hours or days at a time. I stay in my nightgown until 10am because getting dressed means taking a break from reading.  I eat lunch with a book open on the table next to me.   I feed my children pasta with butter because I'm too distracted to remember nutrition.  I stay up until 2am because I can't bring myself to put it down.  I dream about the characters.  I love reading of all kinds, but I really really love going all in. 

Erin: 
I couldn't agree more!  To give you an idea of what my summer reading looked like, here's a little story:  In July, I ventured to the fabulous Outer Banks where I spent almost every sun-lit minute sitting in the sand with my Kindle.  I'm sure there were lovely people on that trip.  I think I was related to some of them.  I know it would have been polite

Four books, seven days, one beach.

to talk a little more, to see some sights, maybe walk the beach...but this was my idea of a perfect vacation.  Uninterrupted hours knee-deep in another world.  After noticing my nerded-out bliss for the better part of the week, one twenty-something asked, "So, like how many books do you think you've read?  Like in your life, have you read a thousand?" At first I laughed at her inquiry, but she was serious.  All she had seen me do was: sit on the beach and read, sit on the plane and read, sit on the deck and read.  Didn't she understand?  This was what I had been dreaming of for weeks.  Before I had put a single item in my suitcase, I loaded my Kindle with books I had heard about - and not had the time to read - all year long.  It was heavenly.  And as much as I look forward to getting back to my students, what I miss most about summer is the time to read (and Mary's blueberry cake.)

And, perhaps more importantly, whatcha readin'? Please comment and tell us the best thing you've read this summer.

 

Mary's Summer Reading - so far
The Ocean at the End of the Lane - Neil Gaiman

The Fault in Our Stars - John Green

The Best Man - Kristan Higgins (don't judge me)

A Long Walk to Water - Linda Sue Park

Holes - Louis Sachar

The Impossible Lives of Greta Wells - Andrew Sean Greer
The Selection and The Elite - Kiera Cass
Smile - Raina Telgemeier

Erin's Summer Reading
The Ocean at the End of the Lane - Neil Gaiman
Divergent - Veronica Roth 
The Astronaut Wives Club - Lily Koppel
Me Before You - Jojo Moyes
The Engagements - J. Courtney Sullivan
Life As We Knew It - Susan Beth Pfeffer
The Impossible Lives of Greta Wells - Andrew Sean Greer
Elsewhere - Gabrielle Zevin 

Mary & Erin

@mzcotillo @allinoleary

When T-shirts Unite

In her world-famous tell-all Confessions of a Literary Dork, Mary mentioned that the love of literacy is not the easiest thing to put on a t-shirt.  It got me thinking.  When Mary dons her I Heart Atticus or Reading Diva shirt, the kids notice.  They talk about it and ask where they can buy their own.  (Okay, not the Reading Diva shirt.  But a surprising number of 8th graders would happily sport a Harper Lee character on their back.)  So why not put our literary love on a t-shirt?  What are the benefits of wearing our passion on our sleeves - literally?

United and well-dressed

We've all been there.  Traveling out of state, we don a Red Sox hat or Patriots jersey and voila!  Our affiliation and adoration are effortlessly communicated to others.  My boyfriend recently wore an Alabama shirt on a day trip and was happily surprised when, over the course of the day, at least three passersby smiled, waved, and called "Roll Tide!"  How cool is that?  (The same thing happens when I wear my "got Kwan?" hoodie.)   Total strangers reach out, extending a hand and maybe an opinion about the upcoming season.  A connection is made; a conversation is started.  That is the power of t-shirts.  And why should sports teams and athletes get to hog the spotlight?  We literary dorks need to flaunt our loyalties, too!

As we neared the end of our unexpected journey with The Hobbit this past spring, we decided to do just that.  Gandalf once again said yes to our brilliant idea (and request for funding) and a few weeks later, we had boxes of 100% cotton unification sitting in the office.  Our school secretary was so delighted that she called the lunch room to tell us they had arrived.  The excitement was contagious.

Our visiting author Christopher Golden commented on the "awesome shirts."

In an effort to create unity, we decided to go with our school colors.  The front of the shirt displayed the name of our school, year, and title of the book.  The back boasted a super cool dragon and an extensively debated and well-vetted quote (seriously, we could only pick ONE?!) from The Hobbit.

"I'm looking for someone to share in an adventure..."  - J.R.R. Tolkien

For our last after-school activity, we asked each of our teacher volunteers to wear the new shirt.  When the kids entered the gymnasium, we were accosted with:

"Oh man - those are so cool!"
"I want one!"
"Do we get shirts?" 

Teachers in their Tolkien tees

Since we love a surprise ending and are a wee bit dramatic, we lied through our teeth and told them no.  An hour later, they erupted in cheers when we revealed the boxes.

As I readied the gym for the Gollum Slalom (you had to be there,) Mary took over t-shirt distribution duty across the hall.   

She never told them to put them on.  They just did.  Watching nearly two hundred middle schoolers tromping back to the gym in their new shirts (quoting Tolkien!) is something we will not soon forget.     

These shirts had power.  Students and teachers were proud to wear them.  It gave the kids a chance to belong, to connect with other students, and to announce their accomplishment to the world.  After all, only participants received a shirt.  The kids must have liked them, because every day after at least a few Hobbits roamed the halls in their finest Shire attire.  If either Mary or I were drained or frustrated or just plain exhausted, all we had to do was walk into the hallway for a little inspiration.  Months later, the novelty had yet to wear off. 

We got your back.

Just this past weekend, we were engaged in a little pre-season planning at Panera when we noticed one of our favorite students walk through the door.  As we waited for her to turn around and hug her squee-ing teachers, Mary whispered, "Oh! She's wearing her Hobbit shirt." 

Mary @mzcotillo & Erin @allinoleary