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WELCOME TO THE MRA BEACON 2024

Letter from the 2024-2025 MRA President....04-05

Patricia Crain de Galarce

Welcome from the MRA Beacon Co-Editors ...06-07

Elaine M. Bukowiecki and Valerie Harlow Shinas

Letter from the 2025 MRA Conference Chair......08

Adam Brieske-Ulenski

FEATURED AUTHOR

The Language of Storytelling: Breaking Barriers and Empowering Literacy Through the Craft of Writing..................................................................12

Pam Allyn

FEATURED ARTICLES

Dialogic Discourse and Navigating Discomfort: A Classroom Case Study........................................16

Ziva Hassenfeld

Finding the Light in Literacy Through ProjectBased Learning.....................................................20

Jami Witherell

Rewriting the Script: Confronting Anti-Black Racism and Creating Equitable PK-12 Classrooms through Antiracist Pedagogy ..............................26

Darnell T. Williams

Dual-Language Books: Cultivating Belonging for Multilingual Learners & Broadening Perspectives of Monolingual Students......................................29

Susan Flis

Arts-Based Engagement for a Healing-Centered Approach to Writing.............................................38

Ioanna Pettas Opidee

Sitting with Students in Their Stuck Spaces: Social and Emotional Learning in Equitable Writing Instruction............................................................42

Cami Condie and Mariah Brennan

The MRA Beacon 2025

EDITORIAL BOARD

CO-EDITORS

Elaine M. Bukowiecki

Valerie Harlow Shinas

GRAPHIC DESIGNER

Nadege D. Okotie

REVIEWERS

Terrie Marr

Mary McMackin

Cynthia Rizzo

Nancy Verdolino

Nancy Witherell

MRA EXECUTIVE BOARD 2024-2025

Patricia Crain de Galarce: President

Adam Brieske-Ulenski: President-Elect

Pattie Kelley: Immediate Past President

Mary Wall: Vice President

Shantel Schonour: Vice President-Elect

Jo Ann Thompson: Treasurer

Shantel Schonour: Secretary

Sarah Fennelly: Webmaster

Dear MRA Literacy Community,

The theme for this year’s MRA Beacon: Journal of Literacy Learning and Research1 is the power of words. Words hold incredible power— like a beacon, they shine light to inspire, transform, and connect us. The following pages of the MRA Beacon are filled with words that will make you pause, investigate, and feel inspired. The peer-reviewed research and practice articles reflect extraordinary scholarship written by our members that showcase diverse perspectives on literacy and language. I hope the words our authors share empower, inspire, and transform you, just as they did for me.

Have you ever encountered a word that you love the sound of, or paired words together in a way that made you stop and reflect? In Peter Reynolds’ classic book, The Word Collector2, Jerome discovers the magic of words. I, too, recently “collected” magic words from the MRA Board. Here are a few: gratitude, will, hope, community, possible, joy, empower, epistemology, grandchildren, read, peace, empathy, demur, mama, and even supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. Some words resonate because of their meaning, while others, like “luminous” or “envelope,” simply delight us because of the way they flow off our tongues.

Did you know “brain rot” is the Oxford word of the year3? I remember a dear friend once encouraged me to enhance my vocabulary while I was searching for just the right words to describe a feeling beyond expression. That exploration led me to discover many words, in many languages, and from this growing repertoire, I found my favorite word: awe.

What is your favorite word? I’d love to hear it when we meet at the 54th Annual MRA Conference: Literacy and Language: Words Empower, Inspire, and Transform on March 26–28, 20254.

Together, we can explore words and perspectives that have the power to transform our teaching and our lives.

1 MRA Beacon: Journal of Literacy Learning and Research was recently renamed read more here: https://www massreading.org/from-primer-to-beacon

2 Reynolds, P. H. (2018). The Word Collector. Scholastic Inc.

3 Oxford Word of the Year for 2024 was voted on by over 37,000 people and announced on Dec 2, 2024

4 Read more about Literacy and Language: Words Empower, Inspire, and Transform on March 26–28 at https://www.massreading.org/2025-conference

How do words empower us? In Marie Bradby’s historical fiction novel, More Than Anything Else5, she describes how words empower. As a boy, Booker T. Washington was hungry for knowledge, knowing that reading and words could open doors. Words can open minds and doors of learners of all ages.

Words also remind us of the need to connect with others, like described in another favorite book, Donovan’s Word Jar by Monalisa DeGross6. Donovan saves special words in a jar. Similarly, writers string words together to create phrases, titles, poems, stories, speeches, and more. These collections become manuscripts, memories, and journals—like The Beacon. Do you have a story to tell? I encourage you to submit a manuscript about how you teach and find joy in words for MRA’s next MRA Today publication. Ask your students about their favorite word and why. Just like Donovan, sharing special words can connect and inspire others.

Words can also heal. While this letter celebrates the power of words, it also serves as a gentle reminder that words have the power to divide and dehumanize. Yehuda Berg cautions us, “Words have energy and power with the ability to help, to heal, to hinder, to hurt, to harm, to humiliate, and to humble.”7 As we move forward, let us commit to thoughtfully choosing our words and listening to others with the curiosity to learn.

Thank you to all the Beacon authors for sharing your scholarship and shining a light within our literacy community. Together, let’s continue to teach, advocate, question, hope, and critique with compassion, always striving to use our words for the greater good.

With gratitude,

Patricia Crain de Galarce President of

the Massachusetts Reading Association

5 Bradby, M. (2021). More Than Anything Else. Scholastic Inc.

6 DeGross, M., & Degross, M. (1994). Donavan’s Word Jar. HarperCollinsPublishers.

7 Berg, Y. (2011, November 17). The power of Words. The Blog: Healthy Living. HuffPost. Retrieved from https://www.huffpost.com/healthy-living

Dear Friends,

As we write, the holidays are upon us and the weather has turned cold and snowy after a glorious autumn. We hope this finds you well and eager for the new year ahead.

We are delighted to share with all of you the inaugural edition of The MRA Beacon: Journal of Literacy Learning and Research. It has been our pleasure to assemble the articles for a re-envisioned research journal that, we hope, reflects the innovations and emerging research of the field. MRA has had a long history of offering its members articles that share important literacy research as well as evidence-based practices that benefit students. We expect that you will find this publication to continue that tradition.

The theme for this edition of The MRA Beacon was selected to reflect the theme of the 54th Annual Conference, Literacy & Language: Words Empower, Inspire, and Transform, which will be held on March 26-28, 2025. The title of this edition of The MRA Beacon is: The Power of Words: Shining Light on Language Research and Teaching. This theme is reflected beautifully in the research articles shared by literacy scholars from Massachusetts and beyond. We are inspired by their rigorous, thoughtful research and inspiring ideas. For more information about this year’s conference, please see Dr. Adam Brieske-Ulenski’s conference preview in the pages that follow.

We hope you will find time in the quiet of a winter evening (or two) to enjoy The MRA Beacon. It has been a thrill to prepare this publication for you - we hope you enjoy reading it as much as we did preparing it for you.

Yours in literacy,

Elaine Bukowiecki & Val Shinas, Co-Editors, The MRA Beacon 2024

LETTER FROM THE 2025 MRA CONFERENCE CHAIR

Dear MRA Readers, Colleagues, and Friends,

Our conference is ready to celebrate the uniqueness, charisma, and talent of our diverse team of presenters and all those who come to celebrate our collective talents, skills, and perspectives. Our conference is your conference, and we look forward to having each of you add to the excitement and quality of our presentations.

For 53 previous conferences, the Massachusetts Reading Association has welcomed all educators, parents, and various partners to come together for a special occasion to celebrate literacy and learning. The 2025 conference, our 54th Annual Conference, will shine a light on our diversity in thinking, living, and perspectives in ways that cause celebration, joy, and excitement.

Here’s a sneak peek at what awaits you at the conference!

Keynote Speakers: The 2025 Conference represents the many dimensions of discussions around literacy and learning. The PreConference Institute on Wednesday, March 26th, 2025, will offer three options: Diane Kern and J. Helen Perkins presenting on ILA’s national recognition, another presentation on classroom dyslexia instruction, and Michelle Kelley and Adam Brieske-Ulenski presenting on the Clinical Literacy Coaching Framework. Each Pre-Conference Institute in-person attendee will receive a book that is specific to the topic of the presentation.

Our conference will launch with Antoinette Gagné, who will address Re-Imagining & Enacting Responsive Education for Multilingual Learners; Elfrieda “Freddy” Hiebert (sponsored by Savvas Learning Company) will speak about The New Science of Vocabulary: AI-Enhanced Approaches to Word Selection. Peggy Segminson (sponsored by Renaissance), ILA’s 2017 Jerry Johns Outstanding Educator Award Recipient and AI webinar featured speaker, will offer thoughts about including AI in education and instruction. Thursday afternoon will highlight our 2025 Children’s Literature Award Recipient, Jan Brett. On Friday, we welcome De’Shawn Washington, Massachusetts Teacher of the

Year, and J. Helen Perkins, ILA President, to share their vision for the future of literacy education. In addition, we welcome Nawal Qarooni, founder of NQC Literacy- a women-owned literacy consulting firm and feature speaker of ILA’s webinar on caregiver collaborations. Enrique Puig (sponsored by Sundance Newbridge), director of the Morgridge International Reading Center, Title I Distinguished Educator by the Florida Department of Education, Literacy Collaborative District Trainer, and Trained Reading Recovery Teacher, will discuss his latest work around transdisciplinary literacy (google it…it is very interesting!).

Interactive Presentations: The 2025 conference offers diverse formats for presenting. Presenters and participants will be able to engage in traditional formats such as a presentation around a focused topic and a workshop that is a bit more hands-on. We are introducing two new formats including Lightning Rounds, which are short presentations of a research project, and Solution Courts, where the presenter shares a problem of practice and then engages the audience to figure out how to solve the problem.

Networking Opportunities: Engage with educators from all over Massachusetts and New England. Win prizes, share ideas, and learn how your local council supports you beyond the conference. Plus, you’ll have the opportunity to connect with authors, illustrators, and scholars.

Unique Celebrations: In addition to our stellar exhibitors, we offer opportunities for you to engage in new ways including our Pre-Conference Welcome Reception in the hotel’s presidential suite on Wednesday night, Authors and Appetizers, and After-hours Pavilion Celebration on Thursday night. We have you covered from breakfast to lunch to bedtime!

Our 2025 conference is meant for everyone. Whether you’re an administrator, classroom teacher, college/university professor or student, reading/literacy specialist, coach, consultant, or family member, we want you to join us in celebrating literacy and learning. You can register today to take advantage of early bird registration rates on our website at www.massreading.org .

We can’t wait to welcome you to the Boston Marriott Newton! Gratefully,

Adam Brieske-Ulenski | 2025 Conference Chair | MRA President-Elect

Words:

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FEATURED AUTHOR | THE LANGUAGE OF STORYTELLING: BREAKING BARRIERS AND EMPOWERING LITERACY THROUGH THE CRAFT OF WRITING

Pam Allyn

Abstract: Research shows that students perform their best in the classroom when they feel supported in their learning and connected to their peers (Cipriano et al., 2023). Student writing performance is no exception; literacy acquisition comes most easily when students have a personal investment in their learning and confidence in their ability to share their voice. Enter the power of story. All children — no matter their background, home environment, or language proficiency — have life experiences, hopes, and dreams that provide insight into who they are and their connections to the world around them. By empowering students to share their own stories through writing, we provide the opportunity for students to utilize serious joy to unlock their understanding of language and literacy learning.

I began my career as a teacher of the Deaf in Brooklyn, New York. My students and I studied the Brooklyn Bridge together. This grand old bridge, a masterpiece of sturdy architecture, had its own story; one of history, of footsteps, of connection. I invited my students to consider places and objects that were “bridges” to new parts of their lives. These “bridges” served as connections to a path forward. Students’ stories began to flow as they each signed in their home country’s sign language. They signed their longing for the places they had left, the grandmother they may never see again, and the loneliness their lives had brought them. But in those stories, there was also triumph. Stories of immigrating to this country, of parents who gave up much to get them here, of closeness with a sibling across the gulf of deaf/not deaf. I learned who my students were by studying that bridge. By studying the history of the bridge, we began studying the histories of each other. When they started their first forays into English writing, they already had the power of those stories of connection in their grasp. This was the first step.

All students have the power of story within them. Through meaningful writing instruction moving beyond phonics skill drills and the Science of Reading, we excavate our students’ brilliance as storytellers. Like my Brooklyn students, writing unlocks our students’ ability to share their cultures, ideas, languages, and worlds. Our students become lifelong storytellers, using writing to fuel their achievements and connections.

Writing does this imperative work in 7 key ways:

1. Writing illuminates cultural and linguistic strengths.

2. Writing builds empathy and understanding.

3. Writing drives success for multilingual learners.

4. Writing inspires student engagement.

5. Writing practices phonics skills.

6. Writing integrates play and storytelling.

7. Writing sparks a love of story in struggling students.

When we teach students to write, we equip them with the toolkit to become confident, skilled storytellers who understand the value of their narratives. By showing students the diversity of the human experience through the power of storytelling, we create strong, imaginative decoders with a desire to share what means most to them.

1. Writing illuminates cultural and linguistic strengths.

We know that storytelling’s only prerequisite is to live. And yet, so many of our students don’t see themselves or their lives as story-worthy, as teachers may perceive writing one’s own stories as “extra” rather than essential in the classroom. Intentional writing instruction that invites students to share their personal experiences—those rooted in their families, traditions, and cultures—shifts the narrative, revealing to students the strength and value of how they use language. When we give students the tools to author their stories, with model texts that reflect the diversity of their world, and with intentional writing instruction that inquires about it, the writing curriculum becomes naturally culturally responsive and joyful, inspiring students to write.

Practical Applications

• Many cultures have varied storytelling methods. Beyond writing, this can include oral storytelling, songs, myths, and fables. Ask students how they share stories within their own cultures and create opportunities for them to express their narratives using familiar methods. Allow them to see their experiences, cultures, families, and backgrounds as story-worthy.

• Set up a cozy “Writer’s Corner” within your classroom with all the materials your students may need to motivate sharing and creative writing. This may include paper, writing utensils, or images. Adapt your Writer’s Corner to your students by including culturally responsive imagery and writing prompts in their home languages.

“When we give students the tools to author their stories, with model texts that reflect the diversity of their world, and with intentional writing instruction that inquires about it, the writing curriculum becomes naturally culturally responsive and joyful, inspiring students to write.”

• Invite students to share their favorite books in both their home languages and English. Student engagement with home languages and cultures in reading builds confidence, motivating students to write their stories joyfully.

2. Writing builds empathy and understanding.

Sharing one’s life experience with others while absorbing diverse perspectives fosters empathy while bridging cultural and linguistic divides. Students with robust social-emotional toolkits had stronger interpersonal connections and achievement levels than students who felt disconnected from their peers (Cipriano et al., 2023). When we engage students in comprehension conversations, we build inspiration toward their next writing pieces and storytelling lens. We can immerse students in the deep, vibrant world of comprehension and spark their imaginations, kindling a flame of creativity that empowers them to craft their next narrative with a newfound mastery of storytelling.

Practical Applications

• Encourage students to document the stories of their lives in author books. Use engaging writing prompts, encouraging students to write about an experience that feels unique to them. Have students ask each other questions and learn from each other, offering them the chance to develop their sense of self and how they relate to others in their world.

• Provide coherent, culturally-responsive decodable model texts using a coherent, systematic phonics sequence as a model for writing. Embed writing comprehension practice within your literacy block by valuing student ideas, and helping students generate purposeful wonderings about the thoughts and feelings of the characters in various texts. When we engage students in comprehension conversations, we can build inspiration toward their next writing pieces and storytelling lens.

3. Writing drives success for multilingual learners.

While acquiring technical skills, multilingual learners still struggle with expressing their voices in English. Asking students to recall their prior life experiences, knowledge, and passions through clear, direct writing prompts empowers students to share what they love while tailoring their writing for tone, style, and audience. This also reinforces an understanding of acquired skills, including sentence structures, spelling patterns, and sound-letter relationships. Over time, multilingual learners will build a demonstrated timeline of writing improvement, which will be rewarding and motivating for future writing exploration and development.

Practical Applications

• Ask students to respond to unique and open-ended writing prompts in both their home language

and English. These can be used during literacy blocks, intervention/ supplemental time, or at home with families.

• Use a model text and ask students to write about how they might respond as a specific character or within a certain plot point. Invite students to write alternate endings, a poem inspired by how the story made them feel, or a story from their own life that the model text may have reminded them of.

• Support fearlessness in your writers by focusing on content generation over building technical skills. Choose an engaging prompt that connects to your students’ interests, then set a timer for 2, 5, 10, or even 20 minutes. Encourage your students to write as much as possible. Have them pen the first thoughts that come to mind – even nonsense words – rather than stopping to think about the perfect phrasing.

• Accelerate vocabulary knowledge with oral storytelling by engaging in conversations where students dictate their ideas while an educator scribes.

4. Writing inspires student engagement. COVID-era education sent our students onto their screens, leaning on Zoom calls for instruction and iPad games for entertainment. This overexposure has disconnected us from each other, fortified interpersonal communication barriers, and damaged student attention spans and engagement levels (Resende et al., 2024). Simply put, our excessive technological interactions mean our students aren’t engaging and focusing like they used to do. We need innovative methods of recapturing and maintaining our students’ attention in educational settings.

Asking students to write their stories affirms the value of their ideas and contributions while strengthening their brains: it communicates, “I believe what you have to say is worth writing down.” When given life-centric prompts, students develop confidence in their ability to write and share stories with ease, and that confidence manifests in greater engagement.

“Asking students to write their stories affirms the value of their ideas and contributions while strengthening their brains: it communicates, “I believe what you have to say is worth writing down.”

Practical Applications

• Engage students in interactive elements when sharing longer and more complex stories. Ask students questions about the characters and plot, inviting them to predict motives, outcomes, and potential reasoning, while encouraging them to share personal narratives connected to the lesson.

• Lean into laughter, connection, smiles, and sharing. Show positivity and eagerness while listening to the varied and imperfect stories of student lives. This approach fosters a sense of community that inspires participation, hard work, and literacy achievement.

• Actively involving students in the storytelling process allows them to hone their conversational skills and imaginative abilities. This personalizes their learning and makes it meaningful, expanding their vocabulary, while reminding them that their potential as writers and thinkers is limitless.

5. Writing practices phonics skills.

Consistent participation in writing activities pushes students beyond decoding. Graham & Hebert (2010) found that writing activities improve student comprehension more effectively than traditional reading activities alone (p. 29). Moats (2020) advocates for a literacy program that integrates skill development with “purposeful daily writing and reading, no matter what the skill level of the learner” (p. 20). Active engagement asks students to apply their phonics skills through the most dynamic form of literacy: writing coherent narratives about their life experiences.

When we ask students to demonstrate the culmination of their writing skills, we ask them to make connections between phonics, phonemic awareness, spelling, handwriting, and storytelling. In this application of skills, students can transfer authentic actions; understand spelling conventions; integrate phonics knowledge, power words, and syntax; and connect ideas with multiple sentences that carry meaning. For many students, writing is the key to achieving standards-level literacy skills.

Practical Applications

• Point to sounds in written pieces. Ask students about each possible spelling of the chosen sound and their potential environments. When discussing with multilingual students, ask how the sounds are written in their home languages. This links their phonics knowledge from their home language with English knowledge.

• Practice active listening with your students. Ask a student to share a story aloud — for example, “Tell me about a time you helped someone” — while their classmates write the keywords they remember, reviewing for phonemic comprehension together. This exercises student connection in addition to phonics building.

6. Writing integrates play and storytelling.

Exploration and experimentation are vital ingredients for productive play. Writing instruction can draw on the whimsy and wonder that comes along with childhood play. In both play and writing, students world-build, problem-solve, and engage with the stories around them, both real and imagined. Students can write from any perspective as storytellers, be it from the point of view of another person, a Zebra, or even a rock. By drawing on the whimsy and wonder of childhood play, new learners can enjoy writing instead of focusing on perfection: just like playing with their favorite toys.

Practical Applications

• Organize activities where students build stories together. One method is to start a story and have each student add a sentence or paragraph, helping them develop their narrative skills while working collaboratively. Students can also practice collaborative story-building through oral storytelling. Try setting up story circles where small groups of students take turns telling parts of a story.

• Invite students to jump into the story using role-playing and act out different parts of a story or historical event, enhancing their understanding and engagement. Have students utilize dramatic techniques, such as varying their tone, pacing, gestures, and demeanor to energize their performances.

7. Writing sparks a love of story in struggling students.

Teaching writing communicates to our students that their stories matter. Students who were initially disengaged from the topics they were studying achieved higher test scores after writing narratives related to the subjects (Hulleman & Harackiewicz, 2009). Storytelling and creative writing exercises can be applied to just about any classroom subject or life experience, helping students recognize the value of their stories and ideas, while forging deeper connections to their prompts and narratives.

By leveraging reading adventures as a springboard for writing opportunities, we use the power of student storytelling to ignite a love of story and subject. This intrinsic motivation encourages students to learn the technical writing skills — phonics, spelling, conventions, genre, and craft — that enable them to share their stories effectively. Fortified with writing, students become confident in expressing their ideas and taking risks as authors.

Practical Applications

• Encourage students with learning difficulties to write stories from their own lives without emphasis on proper spelling or grammar conventions to build writing confidence. Ask them to write about a toy they love, a favorite day they had, or something they want to invent. Shift focus to technical skill acquisition only when students feel comfortable sharing their narratives.

A wise sage once shared that the whole entire world is a very narrow bridge, and the main thing is not to be afraid. Storytelling — and writing — are both like this. Life is precarious and uncertain. For so many of our children, each day presents dangers and hurdles to overcome, especially when learning is hard. But if there’s one thing storytelling can do, it is to hold us up as we cross the bridge, grasping tightly to the power of story we know is already inside us.

References

Cipriano, C., Strambler, M. J., Naples, L. H., Ha, C., Kirk, M., Wood, M., Sehgal, K., Zieher, A. K., Eveleigh, A., McCarthy, M., Funaro, M., Ponnock, A., Chow, J. C., & Durlak, J. (2023). The state of evidence for social and emotional learning: A contemporary meta-analysis of universal school-based SEL interventions. Child Development, 94(5), 1181–1204. https://doi.org/10.1111/cdev.13968

Graham, S., & Hebert, M. (2010). Writing to read: Evidence for how writing can improve reading. Alliance for Excellent Education.

Hulleman, C. S., & Harackiewicz, J. M. (2009). Promoting interest and performance in high school science classes. Science, 326(5958), 1410–1412. https://doi.org/10.1126/science.1177067

Moats, L. C. (2020). Teaching reading is rocket science: What expert teachers of reading should know and be able to do. American Federation of Teachers.

Resende, M. A., Fonseca, M. L., Freitas, J. T., Gesteira, E. C., & Rossato, L. M. (2024). Impacts caused by the use of screens during the COVID-19 pandemic in children and adolescents: An integrative review RevistaPaulista de Pediatria, 42 https://doi.org/10.1590/1984-0462/2024/42/2022181

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Pam Allyn is a literacy expert, award-winning author, and the creator of World Read Aloud Day. She is a social impact innovator and the CEO & founder of Dewey, which creates research-based supports for educators, families, and students.

A CLASSROOM CASE STUDY

Ziva Hassenfeld

“I mean if you were in that situation, you wouldn’t be like, ‘Oh great, now the rich people like me,’” Rowan offered, in a discussion about Mr. Darling, the father in the classic book Peter Pan (Zamorsky, 2009). The room was quiet, and a few classmates nodded their heads in agreement. This was Rowan’s second attempt to raise his critique of Mr. Darling, specifically his sycophantic concern for the opinion of wealthy people. However, Ms. Parker (a pseudonym), the classroom teacher of this third-grade class, moved Rowan and his classmates in a new direction. She didn’t want to talk about wealth and critique the myth of wealth in society — she wanted instead to talk about Mr. Darling being sad. The focus of this paper is how and why Ms. Parker avoided the interpretive directions her students raised.

Teaching Interpretation: Two Approaches

For the past century, literary critics have practiced two broad approaches to interpretation. One approach, “close reading,” encourages readers to focus on the text itself and hold their own interests, concerns, and background knowledge at arm’s length (Catterson & Pearson, 2017). In this “close reading” approach, the meaning of the text lies within the text itself, waiting to be uncovered through careful analysis (Coleman & Pimentel, 2012; Handsfield & Valente, 2021; Shanahan, 2013). The second approach to interpretation is sometimes termed “critical literacy.” Critical literacy encourages readers to bring their interests, concerns, and background knowledge explicitly into dialogue with the text (Rosenblatt, 1995; Vasquez et al., 2019; Yoon, 2020). Although most discussions of critical literacy focus on issues of power and social justice, some writers (e.g., Catterson & Pearson, 2017) broaden the idea of critical literacy to any approach that sees meaning emerge from an interaction between reader and text.

There are obvious educational advantages to close reading. First, staying dependent on the text itself supports readers in developing a kind of reading prowess. They can become skilled at noticing subtle details in the text that can lead to meaning. The capacity to slow down, read carefully, and identify the textual features that lead to meaning represents a crucial part of literacy development. Second, limiting interpretation to the text itself can help maintain a level playing field within the classroom. When students hold their own experiences and knowledge at arm’s length, all students (at least in theory) have access to the same resources for constructing meaning — namely the text in front of them. Because of these advantages, close reading has remained an essential part of American classroom instruction for decades. Yet, as many have noticed, it is not always so easy to draw a sharp line between what is inside and outside the text (see, for example, Foucault, 1972). Our experiences and background

knowledge necessarily come into play when we interpret even just the words on the page. For this reason, approaches to close reading can exist on a spectrum determined by how closely they demand a reader hew to the text.

Like close reading, critical literacies also exist on a spectrum. Most frequently scholars use the term to refer to a particular mode of reading that focuses analysis on issues of power and social injustice. Vasquez et al. (2019) explain: “Critical literacy work needs to focus on social issues, including inequalities of race, class, gender, or disability and the ways in which we use language and other semiotic resources to shape our understanding of these issues” (p. 307).

In other words, critical literacy asks that we pay careful attention to the ways that authors use language to advance particular positions and assumptions about power, that we be sensitive to these agendas, and that we be ready to critique them. Educators who are proponents of this kind of critical literacy have raised important questions about the dominance of close reading in U.S. classrooms (Aukerman & Chambers Schuldt, 2021; Handsfield & Valente, 2021; Vasquez et al., 2019). For example, Freire’s theory (1972) calls on critical literacy to develop readers who are “actors rather than spectators in the world”; that is, critical literacy should facilitate “reflection followed by the kind of action that can transform the world,” (Vasquez et al., 2013, p. 17). Critical literacy asks the reader to recognize the connection between language and power, and then allow ourselves, as readers, to critique it, and to imagine alternatives (Vasquez et al., 2013).

Pedagogy: Dialogic Versus Monologic Instruction

The most common type of discourse in a classroom, even when discussing literature, is monologic. In monologically organized classrooms (MOCs), students answer comprehension questions that the teacher asks — questions where the teacher has a particular answer in mind (Nystrand, 1997). In MOCs, teachers typically initiate (I) with questions, students respond (R), and teachers evaluate (E) student responses (Mehan, 1982).

This IRE discourse pattern has

“Critical literacy asks that we pay careful attention to the ways that authors use language to advance particular positions and assumptions about power, that we be sensitive to these agendas, and that we be ready to critique them.”

a strong history and is often found to be the “default pattern” in classrooms (Cazden, 2001, p. 53). When teachers structure their lessons as a series of “known-answer” questions (Nystrand et al., 2003), the student’s role is to arrive at their teacher’s interpretation. Because the teacher plays such a strong role in the conversation, these types of classrooms generally limit students’ opportunities to engage in meaningful dialogue about the text with one another. The teacher can convey close readings or even critical readings of the text, but in MOCs, it’s the teacher’s interpretive agenda that dominates.

In dialogically organized classrooms (DOCs), teachers emphasize constructing understanding through dialogue; the students and teacher talk through ideas together. Nystrand (1997) described such teaching as dialogically organized instruction because teachers foster dialogue to promote students’ activity of interpretive inquiry. This model of instruction avoids the classic IRE pattern and instead emphasizes conversation among students that touches on literal, inferential, and critical comprehension, engaging the interpretive questions students have versus advancing the teacher’s interpretation. DOCs are dominated by questions that have unknown answers (Schaffalitzky, 2022). When teachers structure their lessons this way, they discourage passivity and encourage student interpretation. In a dialogic classroom, students are given the freedom to make sense of texts in ways that are most meaningful to them. This can open up avenues of discussion, including critical lenses, that might not have been in the original lesson plan (Orner et al., 2024). Or it can lead to close reading.

Aukerman and Chambers Schuldt (2016) explain that “the dichotomy between dialogically and monologically organized teaching is anything but absolute” (p. 117). Teachers can mix these two modes of text engagement and instructional stances. However, unless they put intentional effort into being dialogic, many teachers fall back on monologic pedagogy. In this mode, they can exert more control over the direction of textual interpretation and discussion at the cost of students’ interpretive creativity, license, and agency.

The different pedagogical stances toward text instruction and discussion impact how students see their own roles, understand what reading is, and even envision the resources they might bring to the text (Aukerman & Chambers Schuldt, 2016). They shape how students understand both their epistemic roles in the classroom and their literate identities more broadly (Bartlett, 2007).

As educational goals, close reading and critical literacy have coexisted within American literacy education (Catterson & Pearson, 2017); neither set of approaches is monolithic. Each finds heterogeneous expressions in the classroom, and both can accommodate monologic and dialogic instruction.

Although these interpretative approaches and pedagogical stances are independently easy to grasp, the dynamics of how they interact with each other are not well understood. In this paper, I will explore a case study of how one teacher, Ms. Parker, led text discussions of Peter Pan (Zamorsky, 2009) in her third-grade classroom. I seek to understand her relationship to the multiple interpretive goals of the curriculum, and how she navigated those moments when students advanced goals that seemed to conflict with her own, even when students aligned with the curricular goals. I look at how Ms. Parker balanced close reading and critical literacy, and how her pedagogy facilitated and constrained what was possible.

Research Questions

1. How did Ms. Parker balance the various goals of the curriculum?

2. What pedagogy did she use during text discussions?

Methods

Understanding the dynamics of text discussion in a single classroom benefits from a case study approach that emphasizes “the ethnographic ethos of interpretive study, seeking out emic meanings held by the people within the case” (Stake, 1995, p. 240). That is, how does the teacher herself experience the classroom and her pedagogical choices and priorities? To have multiple data sources that converged to tell the same story, I relied on prolonged engagement from the setting and detailed descriptions of the classroom in my field notes to triangulate classroom transcripts from audio recordings (Mathison, 1988).

The research site was a third-grade classroom in an urban elementary school in the northeastern United States. Public data indicate that the student population is approximately 46% Latine, 38% White, 9% Black, and 5% Asian. Like many of her colleagues, the focus teacher, Ms. Parker, was a White woman. Ms. Parker was selected through purposeful sampling (Patton, 1990), chosen because of her gracious and supportive demeanor in the classroom, her expressed desire to leverage students’ multilingual repertoires and cultures in instruction (she herself spoke fluent Spanish), and her stated interest in making room for students’ textual thinking. Ms. Parker was in her third year of teaching and was 26 years old.

During data collection, I participated as a participant–observer as I audio-recorded instruction. The unit I studied centered on Tania Zamorsky’s Peter Pan: Retold from the J.M. Barrie Original (2009), an abridged version of the classic, and used the unit design from the EL Curriculum. The scripted curriculum encourages teachers to focus on character development, historical context, and close

reading (e.g., quotes that show character motivation and point of view). It also explains that the racial and sexist stereotypes in the text were “common in British society in the early 1900s,” and “encourages teachers to speak with students” about these issues, advising teachers to approach the issues “carefully and sensitively.” The curriculum also explicitly incorporates close reading (authors’ “choose words and phrases for effect” to show “how a character feels through dialogue and description”) and critical literacy (“readers have differing opinions about the texts they read” and literary classics “can show how things have changed since the time they were written”).

I transcribed 25 to 40 minutes of every class period where there was text reading and whole-class discussion (n =12). I broke the transcripts into talk turns for further coding. I chose the talk turn as the unit of analysis because I wanted to be able to quantify the relative frequency of different discussion moves and topics. In total, there were 1,119 talk turns in this data set, spread across the 12 observed discussions.

Instead of beginning with open coding (Strauss & Corbin, 1998), I started with an existing codebook developed by Aukerman and Chambers Schuldt (2016) aimed at operationalizing discourse moves in the classroom. These codes also allowed me to identify Ms. Parker’s pedagogy as monologic or dialogic by focusing on the known-answer (convergent) questions versus open-ended questions. These codes also allowed me to identify when Ms. Parker’s focus was on close reading or critical literacy, by identifying when she focused on specific details of the text as opposed to general concerns that go beyond the scope of the text (experience-related versus request for textual evidence). The Aukerman and Chambers Schuldt (2016) codebook helped me describe how students participated in the text discussion, identifying moments where engagement was with the text itself and moments where they go beyond the text, as well as how their comments evolved from previous ones, and whom they were in dialogue, I coded with a student research assistant, while a third coder independently coded two transcripts (representing 17% of all talk turns) for reliability purposes; we had 88% inter-rater agreement.

Findings

Codes of classroom transcripts showed that class conversation in Ms. Parker’s classroom during this unit mostly stayed focused on the text and close reading, with 963 talk turns about Peter Pan and only 156 about matters unrelated to the text (primarily focused on class behavior). Pedagogically, Ms. Parker was primarily monologic and less frequently dialogic. Of the questions she asked, 75% were known-answer questions (n =175) as opposed to 25% open-ended questions (n = 58). This monologic pedagogy was also reflected in the ways her students engaged; of the 471 student comments about Peter Pan (Zamorsky, 2009), only 20% responded to a classmate (n = 99), while 80% responded to Ms. Parker (372).

Words:

To better understand how monologic and dialogic text discussion looked in Ms. Parker’s classroom, it is useful to analyze two moments in greater detail. Both moments exemplify close reading insofar as they focus on a passage from the text of Peter Pan (Zamorsky, 2009) but also begin to suggest how Ms. Parker made instructional choices.

Ms. Parker Engages in Close Reading Through Monologic Pedagogy

During this moment, the class discussed the following section of text: The next morning, the Darling children were measured for their trees. Hook, if you recall, thought it silly to have one tree for each lost boy, but it actually made a great deal of sense. Each different-size boy had a door that fit him as perfectly as a tailored suit… The cave was one large, cozy room with a floor made of dirt. The boys used mushrooms as chairs and a sawed-off tree trunk as a table. There was one big bed, on which all the boys (except Michael) slept, packed in like sardines in a tin. Because space was so tight, there was a strict rule against turning around until one boy gave the signal, and then everyone had to turn at once. (pp. 61–62)

1 Ms. Parker: What happened?

2 Rowan: They got fitted for their trees.

3 Ms. Parker: Yep, they got fitted for their trees. So does everyone have their own room?

4 Jenny: No.

5 Ms. Parker: So does everyone have their own home?

6 Jose: No. Their homes have dirt floors.

7 Ms. Parker: Right, so it has dirt floors. What about where do they sleep?

8 David: A tent.

9 Ms. Parker: A tent? What do you mean? Explain. Do they sleep on a bed?

10 Joy: They sleep in the same bed, and then one person sleeps this way and the other the opposite way.

11 Ms. Parker: Yes!

Ms. Parker engaged her students in a check for understanding at the level of literal comprehension. When David offered a wrong answer, Ms. Parker seemed to ask for clarification with the appearance of an invitation to dialogue, but then she restated her question as a simple yes or no. She was focused on assessing students’ literal comprehension of this passage, a scaffold to close reading, and therefore did not leave an opening for David to expand on his answer. This classroom vignette is characteristic of much of the overall classroom discourse, which took the form of a series of IRE-style checks for understanding tightly managed by Ms. Parker, classic monologic pedagogy.

Ms. Parker Engages in Close Reading Through Dialogic Pedagogy

On a few occasions, Ms. Parker did promote interpretive discussion through dialogic pedagogy. For example, when the class analyzed this passage: [Peter] saw something white floating on the water. He thought it was a piece of paper, or perhaps a piece of Michael’s kite… but the piece of paper was actually the Never-bird, still sitting on her now-floating nest. She was trying desperately to reach Peter. Although he had teased her in the past, he had also given orders that her nest was not to be disturbed. For this reason, and perhaps because she was above all things a mother, she would disturb her nest herself — to save his life. (pp. 81–82)

1 Jenny: But why would she [Never-bird] save him [Peter]?! He had teased her.

Ms. Parker: Good, so he [Peter] kind of teased her [Never-bird], but then when he saw the Lost Boys doing the same thing to her, he said, “Hmm, maybe we should stop and leave her alone.” So, let me ask you something, when she was saving Peter, do you think she had a reason to leave him there?

3 Jenny: Yes!

Ms. Parker: Why?

5 Juan: Because Peter was annoying to her.

6 Ms. Parker: He wasn’t all that nice to her, right? What might she have remembered that made her want to save him?

7 Allison: He protected her.

8 Ms. Parker: So, did the Never-bird remember the bad things that he did for her, or the good things he did for her?

9 Marcus: The bad things.

10 Ms. Parker: You think it was the bad things? Who agrees with him?

11 Marcus: Actually, the good things.

Ms. Parker: Why do you think the good things?

13 Marcus: Because she wants to trust Peter more.

In this case, the conversation began with an open-ended question, offering an example of dialogic pedagogy. It is a complex task to use textual evidence to understand why the Never-bird might have wanted to save Peter, even if he wasn’t always nice to her. There is no right or wrong answer, and students could bring to bear everything they knew about these two characters in order to discuss different possible interpretations. Ms. Parker followed Jenny’s conversational lead, restating a question about what the Never-bird might have been thinking about when she decided to save Peter, then used student uptake to further the discussion. While the text certainly hints at the Never-bird’s reasoning, it leaves a few different options open, and Ms. Parker allowed the students to consider the different possibilities.

These two classroom vignettes illustrate different instances when Ms. Parker employed monologic versus dialogic pedagogies in service of close reading. While the choice is seemingly dictated by the specific content in the passage — right or wrong answers about sleeping arrangements versus a lack of definitive evidence regarding the Never-bird’s motives — the analysis of additional examples suggests that the topic might in fact be the driver behind Ms. Parker’s pedagogical choices. In other words, it appears that Ms. Parker felt more comfortable opening up the text discussion and engaging dialogically when discussing the caring motives of the Never-bird, but she wanted to maintain a tighter grip when discussing a more sensitive topic like sleeping arrangements.

Ms. Parker and Critical Literacy

There were a number of instances where Ms. Parker or her students strayed from the goal of close reading in service of critical literacy, grappling with the differences between the era of Peter Pan (Zamorsky, 2009) and their current life, as encouraged by the curriculum. Understanding these moments opens questions about Ms. Parker’s interpretive priorities. How did she decide which of these extratextual critical explorations were worthy and which were not? There were a few instances where Ms. Parker initiated these extra-textual (and arguably critical) conversations.

Ms. Parker Asks If Fairies Exist

The class was reading the following passage from Peter Pan (Zamorsky, 2009): Tink’s light was growing darker. Peter knew she would die if it went out entirely. “Oh Tink,” he cried, “what can I do? I need you! Please don’t leave me now.” “I think I could get well again if children believed in fairies,” Tinker Bell gasped. But there were no children left in the cave! Peter stood up straight and screamed out to all of the children in the universe, to all who might be dreaming about Neverland, boys and girls in their pajamas, safe in their beds — maybe even you… “If you believe,” Peter tried next, “clap your hands. Don’t let Tink die!” This time they heard their answer: many children clapping. (pp. 106–107)

1 Class: (Clapping) 2 Anthony: You guys sound crazy. 3

Ms. Parker: What? Why!?

Anthony: I’ve never seen something bright with wings…

5 Ms. Parker: Let me ask you something.

Anthony: …flying into windows like a brainless bird.

Ms. Parker: Can I ask you something? So just because you haven’t seen something, does that mean it doesn’t exist? Have you ever seen…

Student 2: Antarctica!

Ms. Parker: Yeah, have you ever seen Antarctica in person? 10

Anthony: No, but I’ve seen pictures of it.

Ms. Parker: But have you ever gone there? So Anthony, can I ask you a question? Have you ever seen a Komodo dragon?

12 Anthony: On TV.

Ms. Parker: Have you ever seen one in real life?

14 Anthony: On Hey Jesse, they have a lizard.

15 Ms. Parker: But have you ever seen one in real life, in front of your face?

Anthony: When we were outside, we were learning about cold-blooded animals.

17 Ms. Parker: But did you ever see one in front of your face?

Anthony: Well, everybody knows they exist, so…

Ms. Parker: Yeah! Have you ever seen a baby pigeon?

20 Anthony: They grow really fast! I wish I could grow that fast…

Ms. Parker: Has anyone ever seen The Santa Clause (Pasquin, 1994)? Raise your hand if you’ve ever seen The Santa Clause (Pasquin, 1994)? The one where the guy falls off the roof and becomes Santa Claus? There’s something they say in the movie that I think can apply to Tinker Bell.

22 Student 2: See it to believe it.

23 Ms. Parker: Thank you. Seeing is believing.

24 Literacy coach: Believing is seeing.

25 Ms. Parker: Believing is seeing.

26 Student 2: What?

27 Ms. Parker: So just because you’ve never seen it doesn’t mean it’s not real.

Ms. Parker was seemingly troubled by Anthony’s resistance and set her lesson aside to talk to him in an extended back-and-forth about the possible existence of fairies. The choice to engage Anthony in an epistemological debate was not the only choice available to Ms. Parker. She could have ignored his comment or even asked students to look for evidence in the text about how fairies work in Peter Pan (Zamorsky, 2009). Her goal seemed to be to convince him that something could exist even if he hadn’t personally seen it. Ms. Parker’s attempts to engage Anthony, to try to convince him of the possible reality of fairies, suggests that Ms. Parker saw something idyllic in the magical beliefs of Peter Pan (Zamoraky, 2009).

This brief vignette reveals Ms. Parker’s eagerness to foreground certain kinds of connections and reflections on the time period of Peter Pan (Zamorsky, 2009). In this case, she is highly aware of her students’ identity as children. What she wanted to achieve had nothing to do with comprehension goals or close reading — it had to do with childhood. She seemed to want her students to be able to indulge in believing in magical things. Ms. Parker’s goals in this case stand in tension with other significant curricular goals, such as distinguishing fact from fiction. Her ideology of childhood, and her belief that “It is good to be young and free to believe,” (something she said to me after this discussion) seemed to be guiding her. Ms. Parker would gladly engage in a kind of critical literacy that asks her students to react to the story as children. This was an identity she might have wanted her students to think about.

Dana Critiques Normative Narratives of Family

During another class, a literacy coach joined the classroom and read Chapter 11 of Peter Pan (Zamorsky, 2009) to the students, which was titled “The Happy Family.” The literacy coach asked students an open-ended question about a scene she had read where Peter and Wendy take on the role of mother and father for the Lost Boys.

Literacy coach: Now this is just an opinion question. What do you guys think of Wendy and Peter being mom and dad, and the kids dancing — with a hand raised —what did you think about that whole scene? Because they’re all, like, the same age. So what did you think of that?

2 Stan: (comical voice) Disgusted!

3 Literacy coach: Haha, why were you disgusted?

4 Stan: Why… honestly, when I see a little boy and girl being a “thing” … *vomit noises*

Ms. Parker: Well, you keep saying this word, a “thing,” but were they acting like husband and wife, or were they acting like mother and father? There’s a big difference.

6 Jake: Mother and father.

7 Stan: *interrupts with vomit noises*

8 Zoe: Well, they’re both really young, and they’re probably not ready to have babies yet.

9 Dana: You don’t have to be a “thing” to have children.

10 Joy: They could be adopted.

11 Dana: True, but —

Ms. Parker: Okay, so do you guys remember in the chapter Peter got really nervous at one point, and he said to Wendy, “Are we really their mother and father?” Why did he have to ask her? (Zamorsky, 2009, p. 56). Because Wendy knew she was not their real mother, she was just playing their mother, but why was Peter unsure?

13 Miguel: Well because he didn’t really want to grow up.

14 Ms. Parker: Okay, I’m looking for another answer. Let’s go back to page 56.

This conversation could have been a jumping-off point to a larger discussion of families and students’ experiences. But after Stan responded to the literacy coach’s encouragement, Ms. Parker broke in. Her words suggest that she was not open to this line of inquiry as she tried to refocus the discussion on mother and father as opposed to husband and wife, claiming without elaboration that there is a big difference.

In a rare student dialogue, Zoe, Dana, and Joy picked up on the themes in the chapter and began to discuss who can have children, if parents needed to be romantically involved to have children, and what alternative family structures exist. These comments express a critical perspective by disrupting the commonplace assumptions regarding the heteronormative model of family in Peter Pan (Zamorsky, 2009), including adoption and parents who are not married. In doing so, Zoe, Dana, and Joy took a critical perspective toward the assumptions of the book and perhaps planted the seeds for interrogating how Peter Pan (Zamorsky, 2009) presents a “typical” nuclear family as normative.

However, Ms. Parker abruptly steered the conversation away from this discussion of family structure by asking a question about Peter’s character. She opted instead to read Peter’s scared look as a reflection of his magical imagination, connecting Chapter 11 back to a quote from earlier in the book.

Why was Ms. Parker willing to engage in an extended discussion of the reality of fairies but not willing to talk about family structure? In both cases, the conversation had strayed beyond the literal words in the text but still touched on other goals of the curriculum (“how things have changed since the time they were written”). There was one key difference — who was pulling the conversation away from the text. When Ms. Parker wanted to diverge from the text to send a message about the meaning of childhood, she allowed herself to do so, but when students wanted to discuss family structure, they could not.

Rowan’s Critique of Wealth, Social Class, and Power

Consider another instance where Ms. Parker shifted the conversation away from student concerns. At one point in Peter Pan (Zamorsky, 2009), Mr. Darling blames himself for tying the dog up in the yard (which he believes led to his children’s disappearance) and decides to live in the doghouse until his children return. At first, Mr. Darling is a laughingstock, but eventually, he becomes admired and respected for this gesture by his wealthy neighbors whose approval he has long sought:

Society types invited him to dinner — in his kennel and black tie, of course. KENNEL, one headline in the paper read — THE NEW GOOD FORM. It was what he had always wanted, and yet Mr. Darling could not enjoy his new status in the community. (Zamorsky, 2009, p. 131).

After reading this scene, Ms. Parker paused and asked the students a question.

1 Ms. Parker: What was so big about Mr. Darling being in “good form”? Anyone remember?

2 Joelle: He was scared of other people’s opinions.

3 Ms. Parker: Yes, he was scared of other people’s opinions. Whose opinions did he care about most?

4 Joelle: The neighbors’.

5 Ms. Parker: The neighbors’, good, but what kind of people?

6 Rowan: The wealthy people. Good furniture, good housing, good clothes, fancy.

7 Ms. Parker: Yeah. He wanted people’s opinions who had “good form,” who have nice houses, who are

8 Rowan: I mean if you were in that situation, you wouldn’t be like, “Oh great, now the rich people like me.”

9 Ms. Parker: Yeah, but there’s another reason. You’re saying it’s not fun to sit in a doghouse all day. Rowan

10 Tanya: He’s sad that his kids are gone.

11 Ms. Parker: Yeah, he’s punishing himself because he thinks it’s his fault, and now people say “it’s good

Ms. Parker: Okay, so do you guys remember in the chapter Peter got really nervous at one point, and he

13 Miguel: Well because he didn’t really want to grow up.

Ms. Parker: Okay, I’m looking for another answer. Let’s go back to page 56.

In this brief discussion, Ms. Parker began with an open-ended question designed to get students to explore Mr. Darling’s character. From the end of the exchange, it is clear that she hoped the students would understand that despite his earlier concern with the opinions of his neighbors, at this point, he just feels too guilty to care. But there is another dynamic playing out in the conversation. Rowan seemed to want to explore whether the opinions of rich people should matter more than those of others. He was offering a critique of Mr. Darling and perhaps even of the society he lives in. Rowan suggested that the wealthy neighbors were not actually worth impressing and made clear he has no regard for Mr. Darling’s previous life goal. Ms. Parker, however, did not follow Rowan’s line of thought. She acknowledged Rowan’s answer but refocused on how Mr. Darling was still unhappy despite having gotten his wish.

This moment goes by fast, but it’s clear that Rowan is taking a critical perspective in contrasting his own worldview with the worldview embodied in Peter Pan (Zamorsky, 2009). He was explicit that he does not value the admiration of the rich and even has disdain for their focus on the trappings of wealth. He engaged directly with the implicit social assumptions that structure the text and the world of its author. Rowan didn’t get to pursue this critical perspective, but he posed it.

In this case, Ms. Parker seemed unaware that there were aspects of the text on Rowan’s mind that she was not addressing. Unlike the previous vignette, Rowan was not straying far from the words

of the text of Peter Pan (Zamorsky, 2009). Instead, Rowan (perhaps unintentionally) put the language of the text in relationship with his own identity and concerns in order to open up some critical distance between the 21st-century classroom and the 19th-century world of Peter Pan (Zamorsky, 2009) — one of the explicit goals of the curriculum. In this case, the goals of close reading and critical literacy actually aligned, insofar as Rowan was engaging directly with the text to advance his critique.

As noted above, Ms. Parker was not primarily dialogic in her classroom discourse, but she also wasn’t exclusively monologic. For this reason, the two vignettes above stood out. Why did Ms. Parker dismiss and redirect in these instances? This question is particularly interesting given that both moments touched on an explicit goal of the curriculum. Was this a problem with dialogism or with critical literacy? I will argue that her comfort with monologic pedagogy made it easier for Ms. Parker to avoid her discomfort.

Discussion

My observations of Ms. Parker revealed a teacher working hard to implement a curriculum and seeking to use Peter Pan (Zamonsky, 2009) to build students’ close-reading skills. There were also moments where Ms. Parker turned her attention away from close reading to something closer to critical literacy. She held a strong ideology of childhood that prioritized fun, exploration, and belief in the supernatural. She saw this ideology of childhood preserved in the text of Peter Pan (Zamorsky, 2009), and she was glad to set aside her focus on close reading to emphasize this historical, magical conception of childhood.

At the same time, Ms. Parker did not prioritize aspects of the text that spoke to issues of social structure, class, and power. Her students, however, did. They did not explicitly ask to read critically, but when faced with the text of Peter Pan (Zamorsky, 2009), they raised these questions and critiques naturally. In these moments, Ms. Parker redirected the conversation, reminding students to stay within the words of the text, and engage in close reading. She seemed to use the framework of close reading and monologic pedagogy as a tool for maintaining control over the discussion.

“Ms. Parker faced the inevitable challenge that the more the teacher cedes interpretive authority to students, the more students are likely to take the conversation in unexpected directions.”

Ms. Parker faced the inevitable challenge that the more the teacher cedes interpretive authority to students, the more students are likely to take the conversation in unexpected directions. When these conversations began to touch on critical issues, particularly those dealing with societal norms and power structures, Ms. Parker apparently felt a need to take the reins, even as the curriculum itself encourages this direction. Is there a better way for a teacher to deal with text discussion that touches on sensitive issues that might make a teacher or other students uncomfortable? I want to argue that it may take an intentional and reflective commitment to dialogic discourse to tolerate discomfort in the conversational direction in the classroom (Aukerman, 2007).

Students have identities and experiences different from their teacher’s, and they are highly motivated to explore them through texts (Francois, 2024). They want to bring what they read into dialogue with who they are (Enright et al., 2021; Hikida, 2018; Moses & Kelly, 2017; Yoon, 2020). That is, they want to be transformed by their engagement with literature. However, what speaks to them might be different than what speaks to the teacher. This desire can put teachers in a difficult position. How does a teacher use students’ identities and experiences to motivate and deepen their understanding of the text while still achieving their own literacy goals around the text? How does a teacher recognize the larger issues raised in the book that speak to the students?

It is interesting to observe that Ms. Parker herself also has an identity and experience that she wanted to bring to the text at times. Her ideology of childhood might explain why Ms. Parker shied away from conversations about family structures, in particular whether two people need to “be a thing” to have children, and Rowan’s implicit critique of the social structure of 19th- century Britain. But the bigger challenge was her proclivity and comfort with monologic discourse. If she had felt more committed to dialogic discourse in her classroom, she might have had higher-level reasons to allow the students to engage critical literacy in a way that was meaningful to them. But as it was, when a topic became uncomfortable, she redirected the conversation because her pedagogical commitments allowed for this.

How might a teacher like Ms. Parker handle sensitive issues as they come up and become more willing to engage in critical literacy to allow her students to be transformed? The current recommendations are sound: to prepare for classroom discussions, teachers must reflect in advance on the social issues implicit in a book like Peter Pan (Machado et al., 2023; Zamorsky, 2009). They should think through their own ideas around these issues to feel more prepared for such conversations (Vasquez et al., 2013). But I want to also suggest something more novel: Perhaps more important than anything else, teachers could develop comfort with dialogic discourse, allowing students more leverage in choosing the direction of text discussion. Ultimately, I believe it was Ms. Parker’s discomfort with dialogic instruction that served as the biggest hurdle to enacting the goals of the curriculum around critical literacy and allowing the

students to step into an authoritative literate identity (Enright et al., 2021).

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Orner, A., Netz, H., & Lefstein, A. (2024). Reifying, disorienting and restoring gender binaries in dialogic literature discussions. Reading Research Quarterly, 59(2), 155–172.

Pasquin, J. (1994). The Santa clause. Walt Disney Pictures.

Patton, M. Q. (1990). Qualitative evaluation and research methods. SAGE Publications.

Rosenblatt, L. (1995). Literature as Exploration (5th ed.). The Modern Language Association of America.

Schaffalitzky, C. (2022). What makes authentic questions authentic? Dialogic Pedagogy 10, 30–41. https://doi. org/10.5195/dpj.2022.428

Shanahan, T. (2013, September 23). Why should close reading be advantaged? Shanahan on Literacy. https://www. shanahanonliteracy.com/blog/why-should-close-reading-be-advantaged

Stake, R. E. (1995). The art of case study research. Sage Publications.

Strauss, A. L., & Corbin, J. M. (1998). Basics of qualitative research: Techniques and procedures for developing grounded theory (2nd ed.). Sage Publications.

Vasquez, V .M., Tate, S. L., & Harste, J. C. (2013). Negotiating critical literacies with teachers: Theoretical foundations and pedagogical resources for pre-service and in-service contexts (1st ed.). Routledge.

Vasquez, V. M., Janks, H., & Comber, B. (2019). Critical literacy as a way of being and doing. Language Arts, 96(5), 300–311. https://doi.org/10.58680/la201930093

Yoon, H. S. (2020). Critically literate citizenship: Moments and movements in second grade. Journal of Literacy Research, 52(3), 293–315

CHILDREN’S LITERATURE CITED

Zamorsky, T. (2009). Peter Pan: Retold from the J.M. Barrie original. Sterling Publishing.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Ziva R. Hassenfeld, PhD is the Jack, Joseph, and Morton Mandel Assistant Professor of Education at Brandeis University, and director of the SCRoLL Lab. Her new book, The Second Conversation: Interpretive Authority in the Bible Classroom, recently came out with Brandeis Press.

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FEATURED ARTICLE | FINDING THE LIGHT IN LITERACY THROUGH PROJECT BASED LEARNING

Jami Witherell

Introduction

The light filters in from the skylights, casting a warm glow across the room and making the particles in the air dance alongside my second graders. They twirl and leap, their movements filled with the kind of joy that can only come from true engagement in learning. As I watch, I’m not just teaching— I’m facilitating an experience that places them firmly in the driver’s seat. Their eyes reflect that same light, glimmering with the knowledge that what we are doing today will stay with them far beyond this beautiful day in our classroom.

Today, our classroom is transformed as we step into the world of the digestive system, bathed in a pink filter. Students entered through the “mouth,” embarking on a journey through one of four different stations designed to bolster their vocabulary and deepen their understanding of a system that remains invisible in everyday life. This transformation is just one example of our empowering comprehension literacy curriculum, which encourages students to ask profound questions—questions that may not have straightforward answers, or sometimes, none.

Our investigation today began with the simple yet complex question: How does food nourish us? In our classroom, project-based learning isn’t just an instructional strategy, it’s the heartbeat that keeps our educational environment alive. Good questions, whether they come straight from the curriculum or are born from the curiosity of our students, drive the standard of education in our second-grade classroom.

Literature Review

Introduction to Project-Based Learning (PBL)

Project-Based Learning (PBL) is a transformative educational approach that immerses students in real-world problem-solving. PBL integrates content across disciplines, encouraging students to build knowledge through exploration and critical thinking, which is particularly effective in literacy education. Almulla (2020) explains that “the PBL approach prepares students for the difficulties and rich situations of everyday life” (p. 10), aligning well with parental expectations for meaningful, academic experiences. This real-world focus is especially relevant in K-2 classrooms, where foundational skills and critical thinking are developed. Ferrero et al. (2021) add that PBL “encourages young learners to engage in authentic tasks...making it especially beneficial for kindergarten and early elementary students” (p. 2).

Cognitive and Critical Thinking Benefits

PBL enhances cognitive skills, including critical thinking, problem-solving, and knowledge retention. Bell (2010) describes PBL as fostering “students’ ability to be independent, critical thinkers who solve problems and communicate effectively” (p. 40). Zhao and Wang (2021) also found that PBL “promotes the development of students’ multi-dimensional competencies,” spanning cognitive and social skills (p. 2). Strobel and van Barneveld (2009) observed that PBL is “significantly more effective than traditional instruction” for promoting long-term retention of skills and knowledge (p. 55). Research supports a thematic approach to PBL, with Cintang et al. (2018) noting that integrated PBL “supports the achievement of educational goals more effectively” (p. 9). Collaborative PBL (CPBL) also helps students develop critical and creative thinking (Lee et al., 2015, p. 567).

Social and Emotional Development

PBL supports social skills like collaboration, communication, and motivation. Rehman et al. (2023) found that “PBL activities boosted the level of collaboration and problem-solving skills among students” (p. 1). Grossman et al. (2019) explain that PBL encourages sustained collaboration, requiring teacher facilitation to ensure effective teamwork (p. 47). This collaborative approach fosters interpersonal skills crucial for young learners. Baines et al. (2015) emphasize that “rigorous PBL occurs when authentic, meaningful, and coherently designed project experiences are central to deep...understanding” (p. 2). Pan et al. (2019) add that changes in student collaboration were “planned and intentional, initiated by the instructor” (p. 10).

Engagement and Real-World Relevance

Engagement and relevance are key to PBL’s effectiveness. Blumenfeld et al. (1991) argue that “PBL has the potential to increase student motivation by engaging them in meaningful tasks” (p. 371). Krajcik and Czerniak (2018) highlight that PBL “cultivates students’ curiosity...enabling them to solve problems and become responsible citizens” through real-world science applications. Krajcik et al. (2022) add that PBL promotes “a deeper understanding than memorization alone” by allowing students to engage in scientific inquiry (p. 6). Connecting projects to real-world contexts enhances student investment. Dean et al. (2023) explain that

“Engagement and relevance are key to PBLs effectiveness.”

such connections ensure students “see the value of their work beyond school walls” (p. 6), while Kavanagh et al. (2024) observe that PBL allows students to approach content like professionals, which deepens their learning (p. 2).

Teacher Perspectives and Implementation Challenges

While teachers recognize the benefits of PBL, they also face implementation challenges. Aksela and Haatainen (2019) found that teachers “valued PBL for its possibilities for learning,” particularly in fostering collaboration and problem-solving (p. 13). However, effective PBL requires structured support. Fauziah et al. (2023) stress that “Project-based learning requires...guidance, consistent monitoring, and a final assessment” to build content knowledge and critical thinking skills (p. 179). Dean et al. (2023) caution that PBL projects must align with learning standards to avoid becoming mere “fluff” (p. 5). Markula and Aksela (2022) observed that maintaining focus on learning goals can be challenging in PBL (p. 8). Nonetheless, when implemented well, PBL enhances motivation, engagement, and retention. Guo et al. (2022) found that students perceive online PBL as a “helpful learning method that advanced their learning outcomes” in content knowledge, collaboration, and motivation (p. 262).

Research Methodology

Rationale for Design

The goal of this research was to gain a deep understanding of the experiences, perceptions, and practices related to Project-Based Learning in small K-5 independent schools. The qualitative approach is well-suited for this purpose because it allows for a study and analysis of the nuances, context, and subjective aspects of this topic.

This qualitative, descriptive study involved focus groups, observations, and document analysis to explore Project-Based Learning in a K-5 independent school. Given the unique characteristics and challenges of small, independent schools, a descriptive study:

1. Defines Current Practices: By conducting variable focus groups based on a group’s features, the aim of this study was to first define what Project-Based Learning was at an independent school.

2. Identifies Key Challenges: Through the focus groups and coding, there was a desire to identify things that were going well, as well as begin to consider areas for growth within the definition created by the study.

3. Captures Stakeholder Perspectives: This qualitative research engaged a variety of stakeholders, including teachers, students, parents, and administrators, to explore their

perspectives- concerns, and aspirations regarding Project-Based Learning (PBL) in an independent school context. By integrating these diverse viewpoints, the study provides tailored recommendations that address the unique characteristics and challenges faced by independent schools, ensuring that PBL implementation aligns with the needs and expectations of the school community.

4. Action Research: Conducting this study on Project-Based Learning (PBL) through Action Research offered numerous benefits. One significant advantage was the empowerment it provided educators to design personalized development plans. Through Action Research, educators can identify specific areas for improvement and set targeted goals that align with their professional aspirations. This personalized approach enables educators to tailor their professional growth journey, capitalizing on their strengths while actively addressing areas that require enhancement. Moreover, engaging in Action Research facilitated critical reflection, allowing educators to assess their teaching practices, analyze the impact of instructional strategies, and refine their approaches based on evidence and insights gained from their research endeavors. As noted by Bell (2010), “PBL fosters students’ ability to be independent, critical thinkers who solve problems and communicate effectively” (p. 40), which aligns well with the goals of Action Research to foster reflective, evidence-based improvements in teaching. This process of critical reflection supports continuous learning and growth, ultimately enhancing the quality of teaching and learning experiences within the classroom.

Educational Context

This independent school, a relatively young institution in operation for less than a decade, was founded with Project-Based Learning (PBL) as one of its foundational pillars. From its inception, the school aspired to integrate PBL into its ethos; however, a clear and unified definition of what PBL should look like across grade levels was not established. As the school expanded by adding one grade level each year, the lack of cohesion in defining and implementing PBL across the institution became increasingly evident. Each grade level developed its own approach to PBL, resulting in significant variation and a lack of consistency in its application.

Compounding this challenge, the school operates across two separate buildings, further complicating efforts to create a unified vision for PBL. Communication between buildings around the purpose, goals, and practices of PBL has proven to be a logistical hurdle, leaving teachers with the added burden of aligning practices on their own initiative. In terms of the daily schedule, students receive 75 minutes for literacy instruction and an additional 45-minute block designated specifically for PBL. However, unless individual teachers take intentional steps to integrate PBL with other subjects,

these blocks often function independently rather than as cohesive, interdisciplinary experiences. This disconnect underscores the need for greater collaboration and strategic planning to fully realize the benefits of PBL.

The impetus for this research project was rooted in a recognition of the importance of establishing a shared understanding of PBL at the school. To achieve this, it was essential to include the voices of all four key stakeholder groups—administration, staff, parents, and students—to co-construct a definition of PBL that would inform and guide its implementation.

At the time of this study, the second-grade PBL map was still evolving, reflecting the broader fluidity in how PBL was being approached across the school. Additionally, the school was in its second year of implementing a new literacy curriculum, which covered reading, writing, science, social studies, and the arts. While this curriculum offered a structured framework, its integration with PBL remained inconsistent, highlighting the need for a more cohesive approach to interdisciplinary learning. As the school continues to grow and refine its practices, the development of a unified PBL strategy remains an ongoing priority.

Site and Participants

The participants in this study were three teachers (grades K, 1, 2); 3 students (2, 3, 5); 3 parents in grades 2 amd 3); and 3 administrators. From this independent school. The teachers at this site were selected because they had some background in building out the PBL units at the school. All teachers in the Focus Group had taught at this site for more than 1 year and brought a background in teaching of 10-plus years each. Students and parents represented a cross section of the grades at the school in the older division, 3-5. The administrators were the senior most level administrators and the founder of the school.The school was in an urban city on the east coast with a student enrollment under 200 in grades k-5.

Data Collection

Participants were divided into four role-specific focus groups, which were audio-recorded. The questions aimed to elicit perspectives on PBL understanding and implementation within the school. Each of the four groups, while asked the same questions, were a targeted demographic (student, teacher, administrators, or parent), in this case, a member of the greater school community. I was listening for common themes across all four groups, as well as within each individual group. The focus groups were not meant to be evaluative in nature. After each focus group, the data were transcribed to be coded for common themes. The transcription process was also used in tandem with memos (taken during each of the focus group.

Data Analysis

The data acquisition in this research embraced a qualitative approach, focusing on nuanced insights and individual perspectives rather than numerical quantification (Maxwell, 2005). As underscored by Maxwell (2005), qualitative research delves into specific situations or individuals, privileging the richness of language over numerical metrics. Qualitative research findings are often presented thoroughly, using first-person narratives to capture participants’ experiences. I conducted a systematic analysis of focus group data, applying coding techniques to identify patterns, correlations, and recurring themes within the participants’ statements. Coding in focus-group research refers to the process of systematically categorizing segments of the discussion based on themes, ideas, or interactions that emerge. This method enables researchers to “trace issues and/or participants through each transcript,” helping to analyze both individual and group dynamics in the conversation (Catterall & Maclaran, 1997, p. 4). Coding in focus groups is crucial because it allows researchers to capture and organize insights from participant interactions, helping to reveal underlying themes and patterns that might otherwise be missed. Catterall and Maclaran (1997) explain that effective coding goes beyond merely categorizing content; it also involves identifying the dynamic interactions between participants, which are essential for understanding the full context of the discussion (p. 3). These emergent themes were documented and subsequently integrated into the findings section. Beginning the analysis promptly after the initial focus groups, I engaged in the practice of memo writing and note-taking, facilitating the capture of analytical reflections, a process emphasized by Maxwell (2005). Through iterative reviewing of memos, notes, and focus group recordings, I commenced the formation of preliminary hypotheses regarding discernible patterns or relationships in the dataset. Persistent thematic occurrences were identified, serving as the linchpin in organizing the research findings. The coding process, delineating distinct categories to systematize data, evolved in tandem with the accrual of additional information, thereby shaping future investigative inquiries (Thornberg, 2012). In the context of this study’s research questions, which probe the experiences of teachers, students, parents, and administrators within Project-Based Learning, the qualitative method emerges as the optimal approach for comprehensive exploration and insight generation.

Findings and Discussion

There were several common themes that became apparent during the data analysis. From Saldaña’s (2021) The Coding Manual for Qualitative Researchers, a memo is defined as “a brief or extended narrative that documents the researcher’s reflections on and reactions to the data” (p. 88). Memos play a crucial role in qualitative research by capturing the researcher’s immediate interpretations and insights, which serve as a foundation for deeper analysis and theory development. Utilizing memos and coding the

transcriptions, it became evident that four major themes were common among the 4 focus groupsThese included: deep integration across all subject areas, inquiry around a well-developed question, connection to student choice and autonomy, and connectedness to the school and greater community.

Theme: Project-Based Learning as Deep Integration

Project-Based Learning (PBL) is an educational approach that immerses students in handson, inquiry-based tasks rooted in real-world contexts. PBL emphasizes authentic, student-centered experiences that align with learners’ interests, fostering critical thinking and problem-solving skills. As Krajcik et al. (2022) explain, “PBL allows students to experience scientific inquiry through real-world applications, which fosters a deeper understanding by actively engaging them in the process of making sense of scientific phenomena rather than simply memorizing facts” (p. 6). This alignment with realworld relevance enhances student engagement and promotes a deeper, more meaningful learning experience. Parent 1 relays:

Because I, as a teacher, value project-based learning, I consider it teaching content through the lens of a project. So, to me, it’s (the) integration of content, integration of subjects. It’s a goal and a focus… it’s very purposeful learning. I love the idea of project-based learning in math. And I’d love to explore that more personally. I wish I did more of that because I think it makes math more relatable. I think it makes it more authentic. And I do think it sticks with the kids longer than just teaching multiplication and teaching a specific skill. So that’s what I would say about projectbased learning. (Parent 1)

Parent 1’s perspective on the integration of PBL in mathematics underscored the transformative potential of this approach. “Instruction is often designed based on the assumption that learning is ‘a similar process in all individuals and for all tasks and thus many people feel a common instructional approach should suffice’” (Clark, 2000, p. 31). Parent 1 (a science teacher at another independent school) highlighted PBL’s capacity to make learning more relatable and authentic, positing that such experiential learning methodologies resonate with students on a deeper level, leading to longer-lasting retention of knowledge compared to traditional teaching methods. Additionally, Pan et al. (2018) emphasize that PBL allows

“PBL emphasizes authentic, student-centered experiences that align with learners’ interests, fostering critical thinking and problem-solving skills.”

learners to immerse in real-world experiences with sustained engagement and collaboration, engage in detailed research, inquiry, and analysis, and communicate effectively to audiences. Such a learning approach may contribute to learners’ subject matter knowledge, problem-solving skills, teamwork, and self-directed learning, giving learners more freedom to explore ideas as well as opportunities to demonstrate problem-solving skills and creativity. The notion of deep integration within Project-Based Learning (PBL) was further elucidated by Parent 3, who emphasized the multifaceted nature of learning experiences engendered by PBL. Parent 3 described PBL as an educational approach wherein students engage in projects that not only facilitate explicit learning of specific content but also afford opportunities for implicit learning of ancillary skills, knowledge, and collaborative abilities. Parent 3 connects:

I’d say, for me, project-based learning brings to mind the idea that a student is, just in general, not talking about my kids or this school in particular, but that the student would be working on a project in which they’re learning something explicitly that they understand that they’re learning, but they’re also learning all sorts of other things that they’re not, that’s maybe more implicitly, that they have to do to do the project, so that they’re both learning that specific new thing that’s going to stay in their mind, and they’re learning all of these ancillary skills, whether it’s skills or knowledge or the ability to work with someone else, if it has a team component or is a team project, that kind of thing. I think that’s the main way I would see a benefit of project-based learning.

Parent 3’s perspective highlights the interconnected nature of learning within Project-Based Learning (PBL), where students simultaneously acquire specific knowledge and skills while actively engaging in project-based tasks. This holistic approach transcends traditional instruction by promoting not only content mastery but also the development of essential competencies, such as teamwork and problem-solving. As noted by Krajcik et al. (2022), “PBL allows students to experience scientific inquiry through real-world applications, which fosters a deeper understanding by actively engaging them in the process of making sense of scientific phenomena rather than simply memorizing facts” (p. 6). Through this comprehensive framework, PBL cultivates both academic and interpersonal skills, preparing students for complex, real-world challenges.

Theme: Importance of Student Autonomy in Project-Based Learning

Teacher 3’s reflection underscores the intrinsic value of student autonomy within ProjectBased Learning (PBL), emphasizing its role in fostering authentic, child-driven learning experiences. Research supports this perspective, noting that “PBL encourages students to acquire critical thinking and collaborative skills, essential for modern work environments” by allowing them to exercise choice and agency in their learning journey (Lee et al., 2014, p. 22). By giving students opportunities to make

decisions, PBL cultivates a sense of ownership and engagement that transcends traditional instructional approaches, thereby promoting deeper, more meaningful learning.

I would say it’s very like authentic and very child driven. I think an example of this is what kindergarten is doing, where the children are going to choose their own animal that they’re interested in. So really following, especially the lower grades, like following their children, the children’s interests. Same with first grade, with like the marketplace that you guys do. So those kind of like childhood projects, and that it’s different than other curriculums because there’s not a specific timeline or deadline. It’s just following through on those steps and processes. (Teacher 3)

Authentic and Child-Driven Learning

Project-Based Learning (PBL) emphasizes authentic, student-centered experiences that align with learners’ interests, passions, and developmental needs. As Teacher 3 highlighted, initiatives like allowing kindergarteners to select an animal of interest or organizing marketplace projects for first graders exemplify PBL’s commitment to honoring students’ diverse interests and preferences. This alignment with student-driven topics enhances engagement and fosters deeper understanding and retention of content. Blumenfeld et al. (1991) support this view, noting that “Project-based learning has the potential to increase student motivation by engaging them in meaningful tasks that are relevant to their lives” (p. 371). Through this approach, PBL promotes a learning environment where students are both intellectually and emotionally invested.

Empowerment and Ownership

At the heart of PBL is the principle of student empowerment, wherein learners are actively involved in shaping their educational experiences. By providing opportunities for choice and self-direction, PBL instills a sense of ownership in students, fostering intrinsic motivation and a desire for learning. As Teacher 3 noted, “the absence of rigid timelines or deadlines in PBL allows students the freedom to navigate their learning journey at their own pace, fostering a sense of autonomy and responsibility for their academic growth.” Lee et al. (2014) affirm that “Project-Based Learning encourages students to acquire critical thinking and collaborative skills, essential for modern work environments” (p. 22), underscoring how PBLs focus on student agency prepares learners to become self-motivated and resilient thinkers.

Process-Oriented Learning

Central to PBL is a focus on process-oriented learning, wherein students engage in authentic, hands-on experiences that prioritize exploration, iteration, and reflection. By eschewing prescriptive curricular mandates in favor of open-ended inquiry and discovery, PBL encourages students to take ownership of their learning process. As Teacher 3 emphasized, “PBL enables students to follow through

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on the iterative steps and processes inherent in project work, fostering resilience, adaptability, and a growth mindset.” According to Dean et al. (2023), “Cycles of feedback, reflection, and revision closely resemble how adults engage in vocational and community work, thus providing students with iterative learning experiences that mirror real-world processes” (p. 7). This process-oriented approach supports students in developing the skills needed to navigate complex challenges with persistence and adaptability. Guo et al. (2022) further support the significance of student autonomy in PBL, highlighting the pivotal role of teachers as facilitators who encourage student interaction with peers. According to Guo et al. (2022), teachers should meticulously design and organize curriculum-related parameters, particularly in the early stages of PBL, to promote effective learning. This emphasis on student autonomy underscores the collaborative and student-centered nature of PBL, where students are actively engaged in the learning process under the guidance of facilitative educators.

Theme: Inquiry in Project-Based Learning

Administrator 1 articulated the foundational role of inquiry-based learning within Project-Based Learning (PBL), highlighting its transformative impact on students’ cognitive and metacognitive processes.

I think some of the things that I think of when I think about project-based learning are it’s learning that is inherently, or ought to be inherently, inquiry-based, and so it is guided by driving questions that really push kids themselves to ask questions, to grapple with questions, to think critically about content. It is grounded in real-world experiences and learning. So, authentic learning experiences should be part of it, and it is also interdisciplinary. So, whether that, you know, whatever standards you are grounding it in, or whether other skills or content that, again, it should be kind of working across multiple content areas.

PBL, according to Administrator 1, is characterized by its inherent emphasis on inquiry, guided by driving questions that prompt students to engage in critical thinking and inquiry. These driving questions serve as catalysts for inquiry, challenging students to grapple with complex issues, generate hypotheses, and seek out solutions through rigorous exploration and investigation. Central to PBL is the integration of authentic, real-world experiences into the learning process, as underscored by Administrator 1. Authentic learning experiences are not merely incidental but are intentionally woven into the fabric of PBL, providing students with opportunities to apply their learning in meaningful contexts. By grounding learning in real-world scenarios, PBL fosters relevance and significance, empowering students to connect theoretical concepts with practical applications and develop a deeper understanding of content. Administrator 1 emphasized the interdisciplinary nature of PBL, highlighting its capacity to transcend traditional disciplinary boundaries and foster holistic learning experiences. PBL, as noted by Administrator 1, operates at the intersection of multiple content areas, facilitating the integration of

diverse skills, knowledge, and perspectives. Project-Based Learning (PBL) is an educational approach that immerses students in hands-on, inquiry-based tasks rooted in real-world contexts. PBL emphasizes authentic, student-centered experiences that align with learners’ interests, fostering critical thinking and problem-solving skills. As Krajcik et al. (2022) explain, “PBL allows students to experience scientific inquiry through real-world applications, which fosters a deeper understanding by actively engaging them in the process of making sense of scientific phenomena rather than simply memorizing facts” (p. 6). This alignment with real-world relevance enhances student engagement and promotes a deeper, more meaningful learning experience. Student 1’s reflection on PBL as “one big question” offers a profound insight into the essence of inquiry-based learning.

PBL is like one big question. I think it’s like an essential question (from literacy) that you don’t have a big, big answer to, but like little answers along the way and then you can learn more about it over the time of the year and learning and become smarter in like how to answer a big, big question.

According to Student 1, PBL encapsulates an essential question (embedded in each of their daily literacy lessons, showcasing acquisition of the vocabulary and deep understanding of the meaning here) that elicits continuous exploration and discovery, with answers unfolding gradually over time. This perspective underscores the importance of the driving question in guiding students’ inquiry and shaping their learning journey. By framing learning as an ongoing pursuit of understanding, PBL empowers students to delve deeper into complex issues, cultivate curiosity, and develop a nuanced understanding of the world around them. Student 1’s perspective serves as a poignant reminder of the transformative potential of inquiry-based learning in nurturing students’ intellectual curiosity and fostering a lifelong love of learning. Furthermore, Scott (1994), in a reflection of her own implementation of PBL in middle school, provides insight into the practical implementation of inquiry-based learning in PBL contexts. Throughout the development of units, Scott notes the continuous direction of students’ focus towards project questions.

Large banners, serving as visual reminders, were prominently displayed in classrooms, reinforcing the guiding questions, and fostering ownership among students. Moreover, students compiled notebooks, organized around project questions, with activities and inquiries consistently directed towards addressing these questions. This approach not only underscores the centrality of inquiry in PBL but also highlights the importance of establishing and maintaining student engagement with driving questions throughout the learning process. Additionally, Mentzer et al. (2017) found that during the initial stages of PBL implementation, teachers struggled with the idea of allowing students to independently identify important concepts and questions for investigation during lab work. This highlights the challenges educators may face in relinquishing control and fostering student autonomy

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in inquiry-based learning environments, underscoring the need for ongoing support and professional development in implementing effective inquiry practices within PBL frameworks.

Theme: Connecting Work to the Community

Parent 1 and Parent 2 highlighted the transformative potential of Project-Based Learning (PBL) in fostering a sense of social responsibility and global awareness among students. Parent 1 expressed enthusiasm for PBL’s emphasis on tangible outcomes, such as building businesses or engaging in philanthropic endeavors, that allow students to witness the real-world impact of their efforts. Parent 2 stated:

So, what jumps out to me, there’s a couple of things. One, I love the idea of being able to build something, perhaps business-wise, and see the fruits of that labor in actuality-Whether it’s making money and donating it, this idea of how they can use their skills and their autonomy to make this world a better place, whether it’s volunteering at a place. The other thing is the idea of travel. Nothing enlightens someone than seeing different perspectives with travel. So, the idea of travel is amazing to me. (Parent 1)

Similarly, Parent 2 underscored the importance of exposing students to diverse perspectives and realities through community engagement and global experiences. By immersing students in experiences that transcend their immediate surroundings, PBL cultivates empathy, gratitude, and a deeper appreciation for global interconnectedness. Parent 2 emphasized:

When I was just thinking about how my husband and I, we always kind of say, like, you know, Kid, you’re so fortunate. You’re so blessed. Like, you have no idea the opportunity you have. And like, Papi and I can, you know, have you come to a school like this. So, I think her, and she gets it, I think she does. But I think, like, maybe having kids, having them see kids who are in their same age, same grade, but different, like, in other third world countries. And like, what those kids’ responsibilities are, and what they do, and what they’re learning. And, you know, us asking you to do two things a day is nothing compared to what the child in the third world country who’s nine-year-old is taking care of, you know, her siblings and being a mom. And taking care of, you know, her siblings and cooking. You know what I mean? And just, I think it’s important because it’s hard for a child to kind of get out of their own bubble. And I know they’re young, of course. But if they’re able to just kind of see, like, oh, wow, like, people have it rough. And it’s, you know, maybe I should appreciate the little things that I have and the thousands of toys that are around this house (laughter). It’s just, this, everything is just.

Parent 3 echoed these sentiments, emphasizing the value of experiential learning in developing interpersonal, cultural, and cooperative skills. They advocated for immersive experiences, such as travel and cross-cultural exchange that challenge students to step outside their comfort zones and engage with diverse communities. By facilitating cooperative enterprises and collaborative projects, PBL equips students with essential skills for navigating complex social contexts and fostering meaningful connections with others. Parent 3 stated:

I think, to me, the things that stand out, just also listening to what the other parents have said, that there’s nothing like an experiential, I know experiential learning and project-based learning aren’t always necessarily the same thing, but I think direct experiential learning and especially things that are not going to be so readily replaceable technologically, just interpersonal, cultural skill, and a huge one for me would be cooperation, especially when, you know, cooperation is always hard, but some sort of cooperative enterprise where they can have, I mean, I think this happens already, I think it’s something to build on, but something where they have a thing that they can do, but to really do the amazing thing, you have to work together. And so, you know, things come to mind like travel and experiencing the world. So, like, what does it mean to be in third grade, in five different places in the world? Or there was a movie a few years ago about what really childhood is like, about what does it mean to be a baby in these five places all at the same time…or like a moment where, the other thing I thought of was like, they would like to build a laser, or like some sort of complicated object, or like a submersible that can explore Local Bay and find something at the bottom of it.

In accordance with a working paper titled “What is Rigorous Project-Based Learning” published by Lucas Education Research, Baines et al. (2015) posit that “A rigorous PBL occurs when authentic, meaningful, and coherently designed project experiences are central to deep and comprehensive content understanding” (p. 1). This assertion underscores the significance of authentic and wellstructured project experiences in facilitating profound and comprehensive comprehension of content. Furthermore, the parents concur on the definition of rigorous PBL and advocate for its connection to the community in some capacity.

Educator Perspectives: Community Integration and Culminating Events

Teacher 3 underscored the integral role of community integration in Project-Based Learning, highlighting the significance of culminating events and milestone projects that showcase students’ learning to the wider community. Teacher 3 states:

I agree. I think also something that could, like Teacher 2 was saying, something that could set our

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school apart in terms of our PBLs, to me, like you were saying, when you think of PBL, you think of the milestone projects. I think of the community aspect, and I think that’s a lot of where our school, where the community aspect of our school comes into play, where it’s the culminating events, the milestone projects. So many of our field trips must be aligned with our projectbased learning. So going out into the community and having those hands-on experiences and explorations, I don’t know if that’s something that other schools – I mean, I doubt many other schools get those opportunities as often as students at our school do. So, I think that’s also something that sets us apart.

The teachers emphasized the unique opportunities afforded by PBL for hands-on experiences and explorations in the community, enriching students’ understanding of real-world contexts and issues. By aligning field trips and community engagements with project objectives, educators can deepen students’ learning experiences and foster meaningful connections between classroom learning and real-world application.

Also, Student 3 expressed enthusiasm for PBL’s emphasis on experiential learning, particularly through fieldwork and community interactions. Student 3 stated:

I love going on field work. It is like…bringing like the world to life. If I want to know what something is like, I can go on field work and find out. If I am learning about chicks, I can go to the farm. That’s simple, but also, if I want to know about something like maps. I can meet with a cartographer, is that what it’s called? I can make pizza at X Restaurant, but I can go and live that experience, not just read a book. Or think about it.

Both Teacher 3 and Student 3 emphasized the value of hands-on experiences in bringing history and culture to life, highlighting the importance of engaging directly with people and places to deepen understanding. By incorporating more fieldwork opportunities into PBL initiatives, educators can enhance students’ engagement, curiosity, and sense of connection to their learning environment.

Case Studies and Examples

For instance, in our exploration of the digestive system, students used their literacy skills to interpret scientific texts, write reflections, and present their understanding through various media. This not only reinforced their reading and writing skills but also deepened their engagement with the material. We were also able to connect with a local gastroenterologist, who brought field work to us. Their visit included learning the last stages of the digestive system and being able to see an endoscope up close and personal. The gastroenterologist finished their visit by gifting each student a digestive system apron, and the students were able to take home their work and share with their families, thereby,

extending some of the hands-on work beyond the classroom.

Implications for Practice

Educators looking to enhance literacy instruction can adopt PBL by:

• Creating meaningful projects tied to core literacy skills.

Developing projects centered on literacy allows students to engage deeply with foundational skills in a practical, applied context. As cited in Zhao and Wng (2022), Krajcik and Czerniak (2018) note that project-based learning cultivates students’ curiosity and builds an understanding of core ideas in science, enabling students to solve problems and become responsible citizens in scientific literacy. This approach can be adapted to literacy by focusing projects on storytelling, research, and presentation, which reinforces essential reading and writing skills.

• Encouraging students to formulate and investigate their own questions.

Allowing students to explore their own questions fosters a sense of ownership and curiosity in learning. According to Blumenfeld et al. (1991), “Project-based learning has the potential to increase student motivation by engaging them in meaningful tasks that are relevant to their lives” (p. 371). When students are encouraged to ask questions that matter to them, they develop critical thinking skills and become active participants in their learning journey.

• Integrating community resources and issues into literacy projects to enhance realworld relevance.

Connecting literacy projects to local resources or community issues helps students see the practical applications of their learning, enhancing their engagement and understanding. Dean et al. (2023) emphasize that “connecting projects to real-world problems...ensures that students see the value of their work beyond school walls, fostering deeper engagement and understanding” (p. 6). By incorporating local topics, students can practice literacy skills in a meaningful context that resonates with their experiences and communities.

“Developing projects centered on literacy allows students to engage deeply with foundational skills in a practical, applied context.”

Project-Based Learning transforms the literacy landscape by creating dynamic environments that foster lasting comprehension and engagement. As we continue to explore and expand PBL in literacy education, we open a world of possibilities for our students to grow

Recommendations for Future Research

Longitudinal Studies on PBL Impacts in Early Education

Future research should consider longitudinal studies to evaluate the sustained effects of ProjectBased Learning (PBL) on students’ literacy, critical thinking, and academic engagement in primary education. Such studies could examine whether early PBL experiences positively influence student outcomes across later grades. Given the noted efficacy of PBL in knowledge retention (Strobel & van Barneveld, 2009), a longitudinal study would provide insight into how early PBL experiences influence long-term literacy and critical thinking skills. This research could also explore how foundational critical thinking and problem-solving skills, cultivated through PBL in early grades, evolve over time and impact overall academic achievement.

Teacher Training and Support in PBL Implementation

Investigating effective models of professional development for teachers implementing PBL in elementary settings is essential. Given that teachers cite both the benefits and challenges of PBL, structured training and continuous support are critical for successful implementation (Aksela & Haatainen, 2019, p. 13). Studies could explore specific training strategies that equip teachers with the skills needed to balance student autonomy with curricular goals. According to Fauziah et al. (2023), “Project-based learning requires a structured approach that includes clear guidance, consistent monitoring, and a final assessment” (p. 179), highlighting the need for ongoing support systems to help educators navigate PBL’s complexities effectively.

Student Autonomy and Engagement in PBL

Further research is recommended to analyze how varying levels of student autonomy in PBL impact engagement, motivation, and learning outcomes, particularly among young learners. Blumenfeld et al. (1991) argue that “PBL has the potential to increase student motivation by engaging them in meaningful tasks” (p. 371), suggesting that autonomy might enhance engagement. However, studies should also investigate potential challenges associated with self-directed learning for younger students, who may require additional support to stay focused and motivated. Understanding the optimal balance of autonomy and guidance could inform best practices for PBL in early childhood settings.

Cross-Curricular Benefits of PBL in Literacy

Since PBL fosters interdisciplinary learning, future research could explore how PBL-based literacy projects impact skill acquisition across subjects such as science, math, and social studies. Ferrero et

al. (2021) highlight that PBL “encourages young learners to engage in authentic tasks that allow them to explore and understand their environment” (p. 2), implying potential for cross-curricular literacy benefits. Examining whether literacy skills developed in PBL environments enhance learning in other content areas could provide valuable insights into the broader academic advantages of PBL.

PBL and Social-Emotional Development

Given PBL’s focus on collaboration and teamwork, research should investigate its influence on students’ social-emotional skills, including empathy, communication, and resilience. Rehman et al. (2023) found that “PBL activities boosted the level of collaboration and problem-solving skills among students” (p. 1), suggesting that PBL environments may foster essential social competencies. Future studies could assess how collaborative projects support the development of social-emotional skills, which are crucial for students’ success both inside and outside the classroom, and how these skills correlate with academic performance.

Parent and Community Involvement in PBL

Research could explore the role of parents and community partners in enhancing PBL outcomes by examining the impacts of community-based projects and parental support on student engagement and achievement. Dean et al. (2023) note that “connecting projects to real-world problems…ensures that students see the value of their work beyond school walls” (p. 6), which can be reinforced by involving community resources. Studies might investigate best practices for incorporating local experts, businesses, and community resources into PBL to make learning more relevant and meaningful, while also examining how parental engagement impacts student motivation and learning outcomes.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jami Witherell, M.Ed., is a K-2 STEM educator at Nantucket Elementary School on Nantucket Island. She was awarded her EdS in Curriculum and Instruction at Worcester State University in December 2024. Passionate about fostering curiosity and critical thinking, Jami integrates culturally responsive, inclusive practices and project-based learning into her classroom to inspire young learners. Her research focuses on supporting multilingual learners through rich literacy instruction and innovative, hands-on educational experiences.

APPENDIX | FOCUS GROUP QUESTIONS

Please Note: All the same questions, in this order, will be asked of each focus group, only the type of group will change over the 4 groups, including administrators,, teachers, students, and families.

1. What is Project-Based Learning?

2. What is Project Based Learning at this Independent School?

3. What do you think is the role/job of the student in PBL?

a. Of the teacher?

b. Of administrators?

c. Of families?

4. If you had no barriers, what one thing would you elevate or improve within project-based learning at this Independent School?

Words:

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Introduction (A Vignette)

In a bustling sixth-grade classroom, the air grows heavy as Ms. Johnson, a white teacher, shifts the discussion to the Civil Rights Movement. The usual chatter fades into a tense silence, and she notices the students’ eyes—especially those of her Black boys—glazing over, their attention slipping away like sand through fingers. Despite her careful crafting of lessons about the lives of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., Malcolm X, and Rosa Parks, hoping to inspire her students, the energy in the room tells a different story.

Marcus, a Black student often caught between brilliance and silence, breaks the quiet with his voice. “Why do we only talk about slavery and civil rights when we discuss Black people? There’s more to our history than that.” His words hang in the air, weighty and unanswerable. The classroom is engulfed in a charged stillness—this time, one of awakening.

Ms. Johnson’s realization is a powerful testament to the role educators play in shaping students’ understanding of Black identity. It is a moment of awakening, a realization that the curriculum and the lens through which it is taught needs to change. This moment encapsulates the pervasive anti-Black racism that permeates PK-12 education, but it also underscores the responsibility and motivation of educators to confront these disparities through antiracist pedagogy proactively.

Determined to make a change, Ms. Johnson immerses herself in overhauling her curriculum, her resolve fueled by a deep commitment to affirming her students’ full identities. The following week, she introduces stories that resonate with the vibrant energy of contemporary Black innovators, leaders, and artists—figures whose lives stand as testaments to triumph, creativity, and brilliance. These narratives, which extend beyond the familiar tales of oppression, inspire and motivate her students by offering a fuller, richer perspective of Black history and culture.

The transformation in her classroom is immediate and profound. Once subdued and disengaged, Marcus and his peers come alive, their eyes bright with recognition and pride. They eagerly connect these stories to their lived experiences, sparking debates and engaging in meaningful discussions. The classroom hums with renewed vigor, a collective energy that was previously absent.

Ms. Johnson realizes with startling clarity the immense power of the stories we choose to tell—how they can either confine or expand our students’ horizons. By perpetuating a one-dimensional narrative,

she contributed to what Adichie (2009) refers to in her TED Talk, The Danger of a Single Story—reducing complex identities to a singular, limiting narrative. Now, she knows it’s time to rewrite the script, telling a story that reflects the breadth of Black Excellence, empowering her students to see themselves as part of history—and architects of the future.

Introduction to Antiracist Pedagogy

This article examines the critical role of antiracist pedagogy in dismantling anti-Black racism in PK-12 classrooms. By reshaping educational practices to spotlight Black Excellence and rigorously challenge systemic biases, educators can cultivate empowering and transformative literacy experiences. Eight foundational pillars of antiracist pedagogy guide this exploration, offering actionable strategies for educators committed to fostering equitable and liberating learning environments. These pillars emphasize the necessity of recognizing and valuing Black voices and experiences, providing a framework for disrupting deeply entrenched harmful narratives.

Stylistic Choices in Racial Discourse

This paper adopts specific capitalization for racial terms to challenge the normalization of whiteness and promote equity and respect in racial discourse. “Black” is capitalized throughout to affirm the cultural and political identities of African Americans and the African diaspora, acknowledging their shared experiences of historical and systemic oppression (Appiah, 2020; Baldwin, 1963). Similarly, “Black Excellence” is capitalized to honor its significance as a transformative framework and cultural ethos that celebrates Black individuals’ achievements, resilience, and contributions. This choice underscores its power as a counternarrative to systemic racism and a catalyst for decolonizing educational spaces (Siddle Walker, 2018; Tate, 2003).

In contrast, “white” is written in lowercase to denote it as a descriptor of skin color rather than a cultural identity (Painter, 2010; Wise, 2010). This intentional stylistic choice aims to decenter whiteness and address the pervasive influence of white supremacy culture and internalized racism (Bonilla-Silva, 2018; DiAngelo, 2018; Painter, 2010).

Centering Black Students in Antiracist Pedagogy

In the landscape of education, Black students exist at the intersection of systemic oppression and a rich cultural legacy, bringing unique strengths, knowledge, and resilience that enrich the classroom. Their experiences are fundamentally different from those of their peers, making it essential to prioritize Black voices—not just as an option but as a moral imperative. By recognizing their assets—cultural capital,

linguistic diversity, and contributions to social and intellectual movements—we can commit to truthtelling about systemic oppression and challenge harmful narratives. Centering Black experiences allows us to confront inequities head-on while celebrating the brilliance and excellence of Black students. We foster genuinely equitable learning environments by integrating their stories and achievements into our educational practices. This transformation benefits Black students and enriches the entire educational space, creating a more inclusive and just environment for all.

The Urgency of Antiracist Pedagogy

This section emphasizes the urgent need for antiracist pedagogy as a vital tool in dismantling anti-Black racism in classrooms. By revolutionizing educational practices to center Black Excellence and critically interrogate systemic biases, educators must cultivate transformative literacy experiences that empower students to engage with texts critically, connect learning to their lived experiences, and actively challenge societal injustices (Freire, 1970). These experiences enable all learners to thrive intellectually and emotionally. This article advocates for disrupting harmful narratives through practical strategies and reflective teaching practices, calling for the establishment of equitable and liberating learning environments that foster inclusion and celebrate diverse identities (Ladson-Billings, 1995). Such environments ensure that every student can become the architect of their future, leading with confidence and purpose.

Defining Core Concepts

• Transformative Literacy Experiences. These dynamic experiences transcend traditional reading and writing by fostering critical thinking, self-reflection, and social awareness. By empowering students to connect their literacy skills to real-world issues, transformative literacy reinforces the essential life skill of becoming literate in both the world and the word. It advocates for students’ rights to engage meaningfully with texts and contexts that shape their lives.

• Liberating Learning Environments. These transformative spaces empower students to feel deeply valued and respected, allowing them to express themselves freely and authentically. Such environments cultivate a profound sense of belonging and community, actively supporting students’ academic, personal, and socialemotional well-being.

“In the landscape of education, Black students exist at the intersection of systemic oppression and a rich cultural legacy, bringing unique strengths, knowledge, and resilience that enrich the classroom.”

Understanding Anti-Black Racism in Education

Anti-Black Racism is a pervasive and insidious form of discrimination, explicitly targeting Black individuals, deeply rooted in a history of dehumanization, subjugation, and systemic exclusion (Kendi, 2019). Within the landscape of education, this racism manifests in various ways, including the intentional underrepresentation of Black voices and perspectives in curricula, the over-policing and criminalization of Black students (Morris, 2016), and the perpetuation of stereotypes that undermine their intellectual and moral capabilities.

Examples of Anti-Black Racism in Education

• Curriculum Bias and the Erasure of Black Contributions. Anti-Black racism in school curricula manifests through an overemphasis on European contributions and the sidelining of Black history, creating a form of curriculum violence against Black students (CridlandHughes & King, 2015). Omitting comprehensive representations of Black experiences erases their contributions and undermines their sense of identity and belonging. When Black figures are included, their portrayal is often limited to events like slavery or the Civil Rights Movement, which marginalizes influential individuals such as Toni Morrison, James Baldwin, and Bayard Rustin, along with contemporary innovators like Dr. Kizzmekia Corbett and Dr. Valerie Thomas. Dr. Corbett played a crucial role in developing the Moderna COVID-19 vaccine as a lead scientist at the National Institutes of Health (NIH), while Dr. Thomas advocated for STEM education for underrepresented groups and invented the illusion transmitter at NASA. This marginalization reinforces reductive views of their identities (Kirkland, 2013). Moreover, failing to acknowledge the rich African heritage prior to settler colonialism and the experiences of American Descendants of Slavery (ADOS) perpetuates incomplete and deceptive narratives about Black people and their contributions to the American Empire. By centering Black experiences in the curriculum and promoting diverse narratives, educators can inspire students to see themselves as active contributors and foster an inclusive educational environment that honors and values their rich history.

• Stereotypes in Classroom Literature. Many classroom texts reinforce harmful stereotypes about Black individuals, contributing to a distorted understanding of their experiences and identities. Classic literature often depicts Black characters in ways that perpetuate negative traits, such as violence or criminality, or presents overly exaggerated portrayals that lack depth and nuance. This framing can lead students to internalize these stereotypes, negatively influencing their self-perception and peer interactions. For example, characters in some classic novels may be portrayed as one-dimensional villains

or victims, failing to capture the rich complexities of Black experiences. As Bishop (1990) highlights in her work on “mirrors, windows, and sliding glass doors,” literature should serve as a reflective surface (mirrors) for students of all backgrounds, providing insights into experiences outside their own (windows) and offering opportunities to engage with those experiences (sliding glass doors). A robust literature program should incorporate a variety of mirrors, windows, and sliding glass doors to ensure that all students see themselves reflected, gain insights into diverse experiences, and engage empathetically with different narratives. However, literature often lacks this diversity, with many students encountering predominantly white characters and stories that do not represent their identities (Phillips, 2024). By critically examining and selecting literature that portrays Black characters with depth and authenticity, educators can create a more accurate and empowering narrative for students, fostering understanding and empathy while challenging harmful stereotypes.

• Racial Disparities in School Discipline. Research shows that Black students, particularly Black boys, are disproportionately subjected to punitive measures like suspension and expulsion for behaviors often overlooked when exhibited by their white peers (Morris, 2016; Skiba et al., 2011). For instance, a Black student may face harsh penalties for minor infractions, such as dress code violations or talking back, while a white student might receive only a warning. This inequity contributes to what has been termed the school-to-prison pipeline, wherein Black students are funneled into the criminal justice system for minor infractions (Hirschfield, 2008). Educators can disrupt these racial disparities by implementing restorative justice practices, fostering positive relationships, and promoting equitable disciplinary policies that acknowledge and address racial biases. To effectively recognize and confront these disparities, educators must adopt antiracist stances rather than maintaining policyneutral positions. By cultivating an inclusive classroom environment that values every student’s voice, teachers can help dismantle the systemic inequities that contribute to these disparities).

• Misidentification and Marginalization in Special Education. Black students are often misidentified as needing special education services, contributing to a trend of being marginalized within educational settings. Research by Beth Harry (Harry et al., 2007) indicates that many of these students are misdiagnosed due to cultural biases in evaluation processes. According to research by Fabelo et al. (2011), low-income urban schools often function as holding environments for Black and Brown boys labeled as having behavioral and disciplinary issues, further entrenching systemic inequities. This contributes to what I refer to as the “cradle-to-school-to-prison pipeline,” a term that highlights the systemic issues starting from early childhood—where disparities in access to quality education and

Words:

resources persist—through schooling and into the criminal justice system. This pipeline reflects how societal structures fail to support marginalized youth, ultimately leading to their criminalization and disenfranchisement (Wright, 2010). This misidentification can lead to further stigmatization and lower expectations from educators. Black boys are not only marginalized in educational settings; they are criminalized. These patterns of misidentification and marginalization are integral to the perpetuation of anti-Black racism, as they reinforce harmful stereotypes and systemic inequities within educational systems.

• The Harmful Impact of Classroom Microaggressions. Microaggressions are subtle, often unintentional slights that perpetuate negative stereotypes about marginalized groups, a term first coined by Chester M. Pierce (1970). Scholars like Derald Wing Sue have expanded this concept, illustrating how comments—such as assuming a Black student is an athlete or questioning their intelligence based on appearance—accumulate to create a hostile educational environment (Solórzano & Yosso, 2002). These racial indignities not only undermine the confidence of Black students but also create an unsafe learning atmosphere that affects all students. Over time, the cumulative impact of these microaggressions, alongside overt racial indignities—such as direct insults or disrespect based on race—can lead to significant psychological harm, adversely affecting the mental health and academic performance of everyone in the classroom. To combat these issues and cultivate a positive classroom culture, educators must recognize the effects of microaggressions and racial indignities, actively challenge these behaviors, and foster an inclusive environment that values and respects the humanity of all students.

As Kendi (2019) explains, anti-Black racism extends beyond individual biases; it is a systemic issue embedded within the policies and practices of institutions. This systemic nature contributes to the persistence of anti-Black racism across generations, resulting in enduring disparities in educational outcomes and opportunities for Black students. Similarly, hooks (2004) argues that anti-Black racism in education works to dehumanize and marginalize Black students, perpetuating narratives that silence their experiences and limit their potential.

The effects of anti-Black racism on Black students are profound and multifaceted, often detrimentally impacting their academic, emotional, and social well-being. Research indicates that Black students encounter unique challenges in educational settings, including disproportionate disciplinary actions (Gregory et al., 2010; Morris, 2016), lowered expectations from teachers (Ferguson, 2003; Gershenson et al., 2016), and curricula that erase or marginalize Black history and culture (King, 2017; Ladson-Billings, 1995).

As Ladson-Billings (1995) argues, Black students are often viewed through a deficit lens, seen as needing trauma-sensitive interventions, while their strengths and assets are overlooked. This cultural disconnect between predominantly white teaching staff and Black students exacerbates the “educational debt,” the cumulative effects of historical, social, economic, and moral inequalities that widen the achievement or opportunity gap. Moreover, Love (2019) asserts that this systemic marginalization creates emotional trauma, leaving Black students feeling alienated and undervalued, which hinders their sense of belonging and ability to thrive in academic spaces. These dynamics not only harm individual students but also undermine efforts to cultivate a liberating learning environment, fostering a classroom culture where equity and inclusivity are challenging to achieve.

To effectively confront anti-Black racism in PK-12 education, educators must commit to antiracist practices that explicitly challenge systemic inequities. This begins with critical self-reflection, where educators examine their biases and how these shape classroom dynamics. I vividly recall transformative experiences in schools where teachers taught with rigor and love, centering marginalized identities in the curriculum. These educators understood the profound effects of race and racism on students’ self-perceptions and lived experiences, empowering Black students and others to connect academic content to their cultural backgrounds.

Educators made learning relevant and relatable by incorporating literature by Black authors and centering Black experiences through discussions of historical figures that reflect students’ identities. This approach enabled students to see themselves in the curriculum and feel valued in their school experiences. They did not just teach us; they ignited our potential as critical thinkers, challenging us to shift the narrative and disrupt the status quo. This is the essence of antiracist pedagogy: creating an educational environment that honors diversity, fosters inclusivity, promotes equity, teaches from a Black-Centered Framework, and empowers all students to thrive.

It is time to shift the script in education toward a more just and equitable system where all students can thrive as their authentic selves. This shift demands both a courageous commitment to antiracist teaching and systems-level accountability in fulfilling the promise of equitable education. Educators must self-reflect and implement strategies that center Black voices and perspectives, ensuring students encounter diverse and truthful representations of Black history. By celebrating the humanity and potential of Black students, we empower all learners to connect academic content with their lived experiences, fostering a more inclusive and transformative learning environment.

Embracing antiracist pedagogy is crucial for disrupting systems of oppression, particularly anti-Black racism and white supremacy. When we combine antiracist pedagogy with purposeful DEI

initiatives, we effectively combat various forms of oppression, including anti-Semitism, Islamophobia, sexism, ableism, heterosexism, and transphobia in education. Moreover, traditional educational systems must be dismantled and reimagined to serve better Black students and others who have been historically marginalized. As Dr. King stated, “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere” (King, 1994, p. 87). However, educational injustices persist for Black students, who have often been rendered invisible by design in the landscape of education. The time for change is now. Our students deserve an education that uplifts and empowers them while holding the system accountable for equity, justice, and access for all, including equal opportunity.

Significance of the Pillars

The eight essential pillars of antiracist pedagogy provide a transformative framework for educators committed to fostering equitable and inclusive learning environments. Each pillar represents a commitment to reshaping educational practices and outcomes, ensuring that all students—particularly those from marginalized communities—feel valued, respected, and supported throughout their academic journey.

Understanding the historical context that underpins these pillars is critical. They challenge the dominant narrative that perpetuates the myth of European superiority while acknowledging the rich intellectual heritage of African civilizations. Civilization began in Africa, with the emergence of ancient societies in Mesopotamia, Egypt, the Indus Valley, and China around 3500 BCE. Africa is the cradle of humanity and the birthplace of advanced scholarship in mathematics, astronomy, architecture, and governance (Diop, 1987; Mazrui, 1986). By recognizing these contributions, we can dismantle misconceptions and appreciate the profound impact of African civilizations on global history.

A pivotal example of early African scholarship is the University of al-Qarawiyyin in Fez, Morocco, founded in 859 CE and recognized as the world’s oldest continuously operating educational institution. This institution, along with others like the Sankore Madrasah in Timbuktu, which flourished as a center of African scholarship between the 14th and 16th centuries, attracted scholars from across the globe. By recognizing these institutions as foundational to global scholarship, we dismantle Eurocentric narratives and honor the contributions of all cultures, as they fostered advancements in various fields, disproving the myth of European intellectual superiority (Hunwick, 1999).

Scholars like Mignolo (2011) and Smith (1999) emphasize that decolonial educational approaches, as represented in the pillars of antiracist pedagogy, challenge existing frameworks while validating the identities and experiences of marginalized communities. Understanding these contributions is essential for effectively implementing the pillars, empowering educators to create inclusive curricula that reflect the richness of diverse cultures.

These examples offer a historical foundation for the pillars of antiracist pedagogy. By centering the intellectual heritage of African civilizations, educators can deconstruct Eurocentric frameworks and build a curriculum that affirms the excellence of Black students, inspiring all students to contribute to a more equitable society.

Transformative Action: Unleashing the Power of Antiracist Pedagogy

In the context of the 2024 MRA Beacon: Journal of Literacy Learning and Research theme, “The Power of Words: Shining Light on Language Research and Teaching,” language serves as a powerful vehicle for social change. The eight pillars of antiracist pedagogy offer a transformative framework for combating anti-Black racism in PK-12 classrooms, celebrating Black students’ voices and experiences. By integrating a Black-centered curriculum, promoting restorative justice, and engaging in critical reflection, educators empower students to use language that affirms their identities and challenges systemic oppression, ultimately fostering a more just and equitable society.

This transformative action serves as a clarion call for educators to dismantle anti-Black racism. By implementing the eight pillars of antiracist pedagogy (Gorski, 2019; Love, 2019; Okun, 2021), educators can create learning spaces that prioritize Black experiences and reject systems that perpetuate white supremacy. At the heart of this transformation are restorative justice practices rooted in African and Indigenous traditions, which offer paths for healing through community engagement rather than punitive measures. These practices empower educators to address the root causes of conflict, such as the harmful use of racial slurs and bullying, by cultivating empathy and accountability. For instance, I have facilitated restorative circles where students share their experiences in a safe space, fostering understanding, emotional release, and a sense of justice.

By connecting restorative justice to antiracist pedagogy, educators can affirm Black identities and dismantle white supremacy in education (Evans & Vaandering, 2016; Winn, 2018). This commitment to transformative action empowers Black students and fosters a culture of equity that benefits all learners (Darling-Hammond, 2010; Noguera, 2003).

Immediate Actions Teachers Can Take

This section outlines transformative strategies educators can implement to actively engage in antiracist pedagogy and dismantle anti-Black racism within their classrooms and school communities. Below is a list of immediate, actionable steps:

1. Elevate Black Voices Across the Curriculum. Incorporate the works and perspectives of Black authors, scholars, and historical figures into lesson plans across all subjects, not just during Black History Month. For instance, in a literature class, analyze Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston (1937) alongside contemporary works by Black authors, allowing students to explore themes of identity and resilience across different periods. Highlighting these diverse narratives enriches students’ understanding

of history, literature, and contemporary issues while affirming Black identities. This approach counters the TED Talk, The Danger of a Single Story, by Adichie (2009), which illustrates how limited narratives perpetuate stereotypes and marginalize experiences. By facilitating critical discussions around these voices, educators cultivate empathy, cultural competence, and a deeper engagement with systemic inequities and social justice.

2. Facilitate Restorative Justice Circles and Racial Equity Practices. Implement restorative circles alongside racial equity practices to confront harm, cultivate empathy, and promote accountability in your classroom. Safe spaces are essential, but restorative circles demand a culture of shared responsibility and collective healing among all members of the school community. Establishing classroom routines that honor restorative justice and antiracist practices—not just in moments of visible conflict—creates a thriving, supportive environment where every voice matters. For example, after a conflict arises, hold a restorative circle where students discuss the impact of their actions, using guiding questions like, “How did this affect you?” and “What can we do to make it right?” This process, rooted in African and Indigenous traditions, encourages open discussions about racial bias, microaggressions, bullying, and equity issues. By inviting students to share their experiences and perspectives, educators not only strengthen community bonds but also ignite a collective commitment to respect and justice. This proactive approach transforms classrooms into spaces where empathy flourishes, and every student feels valued, ultimately reshaping the narrative around discipline and accountability.

3. Foster Meta-Cognitive Skills for Transformative Action. Commit to ongoing selfreflection by dedicating specific time each week to examine your biases and actively engage in professional development centered on antiracism. Start by building a personal antiracist library—curate a collection of books, articles, and podcasts that resonate with you, such as How to Be an Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi (2019)or Culturally Responsive Teaching and The Brain by Zaretta Hammond (2015.. Share this library with colleagues to encourage them on their learning journeys. Additionally, establish communities of practice by organizing monthly discussion groups where educators can share insights from their readings and experiences. Join affinity spaces

“By inviting students to share their experiences and persapectives, educators not only strengthen community bonds but also ignite a collective commitment to respect and justice.”

focused on antiracist pedagogy and culturally responsive practices, such as online forums or local workshops, to enhance collective learning. For example, facilitate a workshop in your school where participants can discuss strategies for creating inclusive classrooms, encouraging each other to implement new practices. Foster a culture of growth by inviting colleagues to participate in these reflective practices and hold each other accountable for progress. Create a “reflection log” to share with peers, documenting insights and actionable steps toward change. Remember, reflection must translate into transformative action—ensure your insights contribute to dismantling systemic inequities within your educational environment. Let us transform our classrooms into spaces of equity and justice where every student thrives.

4. Promote Racial Literacy. Racial literacy is the ability to understand and articulate how race and racism shape experiences across social, economic, political, and educational domains (Guinier, 2004; Sealey-Ruiz, 2011). It serves as a crucial first step in developing the skills necessary to combat oppressive and racist systems effectively. By providing the language and framework needed to unpack these issues, racial literacy empowers individuals to engage with the complexities of racism. For example, consider the implementation of a “Racial Literacy Toolkit” in schools, which includes vocabulary, discussion prompts, and case studies that help students and educators navigate issues of race and racism (Galloway & Ishimaru, 2017). This toolkit enables individuals to articulate their experiences and confront systemic injustices, transforming conversations around race into actionable strategies for change. By equipping our communities with these foundational tools, we can foster a culture of understanding and accountability, paving the way for a more equitable future.

5. Foster Courageous Conversations for Creating Schools for Justice. Establish intentional protocols that ignite bold, unfiltered dialogue around values, identity, culture, race, and justice. These conversations must be grounded in shared agreements—mutually crafted guidelines that ensure psychological safety, respect, and accountability for all participants. Creating such brave spaces compels individuals, particularly those with privileged identities, to lean into discomfort, embrace humility, and engage vulnerably. For example, schools can adopt structured frameworks like The Compass (Singleton, 2022), where participants reflect on their emotional, intellectual, moral, and relational responses during discussions. Imagine a high school faculty meeting where educators engage in a courageous conversation about racial bias in discipline policies. Using shared agreements, they openly examine data revealing disparities, reflect on their personal biases, and collaboratively develop action steps to create equitable practices. Such vulnerability fosters understanding, empathy, and a collective commitment to justice—fueling transformative

change throughout the educational ecosystem. By cultivating these courageous conversations, we can create schools that recognize and actively combat systemic injustices.

6. Engage Families and Communities. Strengthen the home-school partnership by connecting with Black families and local community organizations. As the African proverb reminds us, “It takes a village to raise a child” (Nussbaum, 2010, p. 15), underscoring our collective responsibility to nurture our youth. Involve the voices and perspectives of families and community members in shaping curricula and classroom culture, ensuring they reflect diverse experiences and needs. For instance, host community forums where families can share their insights and experiences, directly influencing the curriculum design. Create advisory boards composed of parents and community leaders who can collaboratively develop programs that resonate with students’ backgrounds. This collaborative approach not only enriches the educational environment but also fosters a profound sense of belonging and support for all students. By prioritizing these connections, we can transform schools into inclusive spaces where every child thrives.

7. Incorporate Culturally Responsive Teaching Practices. Culturally responsive teaching practices involve adapting lesson plans to ensure they are relevant and affirming for all students, particularly Black students. This approach integrates examples, language, and content that reflect students’ lived experiences and cultural backgrounds while promoting linguistic competence and appreciation for diverse forms of communication. For example, in a history class, educators can incorporate the contributions of Black leaders such as Ella Baker or Fannie Lou Hamer, discussing their roles in the Civil Rights Movement alongside contemporary social justice issues. This not only validates students’ experiences but also connects historical struggles to present-day realities. To effectively implement these practices, ongoing professional development and accountability are essential. Educators should seek feedback from peers and students to assess the impact of their teaching. By engaging in this reflective process, educators can cultivate an inclusive curriculum that celebrates diverse identities and profoundly enriches the learning experiences of all students. This transformative approach empowers every learner to thrive in an equitable educational environment.

8. Transform Policies to Support Restorative Practices Against Racism. Advocate for equitable discipline policies to prevent the disproportionate punishment of Black students. Support restorative justice practices that prioritize restoration over punishment. Embrace activism and abolitionist approaches to confront overt and covert racism,

pushing for systemic changes at the policy, instructional, and school climate levels. For instance, consider implementing a school-wide restorative justice program that includes training for staff on conflict resolution and emotional intelligence. This program can replace zero-tolerance policies with restorative circles that address behavioral issues while fostering student understanding and accountability. Remember, do not be bystanders to acts of racism—inactivity colludes with racist outcomes. Actively challenge discriminatory practices by analyzing data to identify inequities and inform strategies for change. By transforming policies and practices, we can create educational environments that are not only just but also nurturing for all students.

9. Foster a Culture of Growth and Reflection. Encourage students and staff to view mistakes as opportunities for growth, particularly in discussions about race and bias. Foster a culture of continuous reflection and improvement where conversations about race are normalized and integrated into everyday dialogue rather than being perceived as courageous or daunting. By grounding these discussions in the principles of antiracism and DEI, you cultivate a growth mindset that empowers everyone to engage in meaningful learning and transformation toward justice in schools. For example, regular “Race Talks” should be implemented as part of the school’s routine, where students and staff can gather to discuss current events related to race and social justice in a structured, supportive environment. These sessions can include sharing articles, videos, or personal experiences that encourage open dialogue and allow participants to reflect on their perspectives without fear of judgment. This approach also enables the school community to continue to build racial literacy. Through these immediate actions, educators not only dismantle systemic racism but also pave the way for lasting, meaningful change within their classrooms and school communities. By making discussions about race a regular part of the school culture, we create an environment where everyone feels equipped and encouraged to contribute to the conversation.

Real-Life Applications of Antiracist Pedagogy

To illustrate the practical application of antiracist pedagogy, consider these transformative anecdotes:

Anecdote Example. During a recent professional development workshop, an African American teacher shared her transformative journey of implementing a Black-centered curriculum in her middle-school English class. By integrating literature from Black authors like Toni Morrison and Angie Thomas, she employed culturally responsive practices that deeply resonated with her students.

To create an inclusive environment, she implemented discussion protocols that encouraged every voice to be heard, fostering thought-provoking dialogues on identity, resilience, and systemic injustice. Her instructional approach built academic and racial literacy, helping students connect the literature to their lives and contemporary issues. By incorporating multimedia resources—such as film clips and spoken-word poetry—she made the content relevant and relatable. Additionally, she facilitated identity reflection exercises, prompting students to explore their backgrounds and experiences. This brave space validated their voices, leading one previously silent African American student to express herself through poetry inspired by Sharon Flake’s (2010) You Don’t Even Know Me. Her heartfelt reflections on feeling misunderstood resonated with her classmates, demonstrating the transformative power of antiracist pedagogy. Exploring themes of identity and resilience, she observed a significant increase in student engagement. This shift empowered students to share their stories and ignited a collective commitment to social justice. By embracing culturally responsive strategies and cultivating a supportive classroom culture, the teacher-centered diverse experiences illustrate how antiracist practices can profoundly impact student engagement and community building.

Case Study Example. In another instance, restorative justice practices in a Massachusetts high school were integrated into the discipline policy following staff training. The school initiated restorative circles to address conflicts, notably in a case involving a racial slur. Over several weeks, students who were harmed and those who caused harm participated in these circles, engaging in discussions about the emotional and psychological impacts of the incident. Through this collaborative process, students causing harm issued apologies, committed to educating their peers on the effects of racism, and collectively agreed to launch a culture-of-respect campaign. This campaign included the creation of posters, assemblies, and DEI workshops led by faculty and students. Additionally, it prompted an amendment to the student handbook’s antibullying and racial slurs policy. This approach resolved the immediate conflict and ignited a collective commitment among students to foster a more inclusive school culture. This case illustrates how restorative practices can transform relationships and build a stronger community.

Conclusion

In conclusion, dismantling anti-Black racism in education is an urgent and moral imperative. Educators hold the power to create inclusive spaces that elevate Black voices and affirm diverse identities. Importantly, we must recognize that Black Excellence is not a zero-sum game; it enriches the educational experience for all students, fostering a culture of high expectations and mutual respect. As McGhee (2021) explains, the zero-sum fallacy—the belief that gains for one group come at the expense of another—has perpetuated racial inequities. By addressing systemic injustices, we create benefits that ripple across entire communities. When we uplift Black students, we cultivate an environment where

every learner can thrive, ultimately benefiting the entire school community (Ladson-Billings, 2006). By actively engaging with the eight pillars of antiracist pedagogy and committing to transformative action, we can redesign classrooms and ignite a broader movement for equity and justice. Educational reform is not just outdated; it is fundamentally inadequate and complicit in a system designed to perpetuate racial and economic inequities. It has failed to align with the urgent need for a transformative educational framework that dismantles the very structures of oppression it claims to address. Actual progress requires the bold decolonization of our education systems, demanding courageous actions and accountability from all of us. While the challenges are significant, the potential for lasting change is profound and underscores our duty to advocate for a future where every student feels valued and empowered. Now is the time to act—let us commit to this vital cause and pave the way for future generations of abolitionist transformers.

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CHILDREN’S LITERATURE CITED

Flake, S. (2010). You don’t even know me. Little, Brown Books for Young Readers. Hurston, Z. N. (1937). Their eyes are watching God. HarperCollins.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Darnell T. Williams is a critical educator, transformative leader, and dedicated education activist with over 25 years of experience centering Black Excellence in education. As the Founder and Executive Director of DTW Equity Consulting, LLC, he spearheads initiatives to decolonize Eurocentric values and promote antiracist practices in schools. Based in Massachusetts, Darnell empowers educational institutions to cultivate racially equitable learning environments.

Words:

imagine the future of learning

Imagine Learning provides digital-first PreK–12 learning solutions for core instruction, supplemental and intervention, courseware, and virtual school services. Our mission is to ignite learning breakthroughs with forward-thinking solutions at the intersection of people, curricula, and technology. We serve 15 million students — partnering with more than half of districts nationwide.

MULTILINGUAL LEARNERS & BROADENING PERSPECTIVES OF MONOLINGUAL STUDENTS

Susan Flis

Imagine being seven years old again and starting the second grade. If you were born in the United States and your first language is English, your second-grade classroom was probably designed with you in mind. Of course, there are a myriad of ways that children can feel ostracized at school. However, White American-born children do not usually question their sense of belonging when it comes to language and culture. Now imagine you are still seven years old, but you were born in Haiti. You were forced to leave your home and country due to a series of natural disasters and increasing violence from rival gangs. Your family’s migration brings you to the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, which has a unique right-to-shelter law8 (Russell, 2023). Your first language is not English; you have been removed from your country you have known for seven years; you are now living in a motel or shelter with your family; and you walk into a school and classroom where most of the people do not look like you or speak your home language. How might those two second grade experiences be different?

I recently conducted my dissertation research on how instructional coaches can support elementary teachers in instructing with inclusive picture books. The student population of the school where I collected my data included several students who migrated with their families from Haiti. These families were all unhoused and lived in a local motel until December. Then they were moved by the state to another motel about 30 minutes away from the school. All of the families chose to stay at their original school through the McKinney-Vento Act (2015). One of the elementary teachers I coached for my study had two of these students in her second-grade classroom. Both of these students were fluent in Haitian Creole, Spanish, and French. However, neither of them spoke English when they first arrived in Massachusetts. I gave the teacher a dual language book to read to her class called Marisol McDonald Doesn’t Match (Brown, 2013). This teacher speaks only English, so she chose to show her students the Spanish words in the book but did not read them. Later, she asked the ESL teacher, who is fluent in Spanish, to read the book again to her class, but this time in Spanish. The classroom teacher told me that her two students from Haiti were so excited and proud to hear a language they identify with for the first time in that class. Also, their classmates wanted to hear more Spanish words and started practicing them. This experience prompted the teacher to seek out more dual language books to share with her students. This vignette illustrates the importance of culturally responsive and sustaining literacy practices (Muhammad, 2020).

8 The right-to-shelter law, passed in Massachusetts in 1983, protects families who are unhoused and guarantees them shelter in the state. The law has been amended recently due to the surge of migrant families. It now applies a nine-month length of stay limit, with extension possibilities (The General Court of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, 2024).

Of course, not all multilingual learners have migrated from another country. They are not all unhoused or refugees. Some American-born students speak a non-English language at home. The language of their family and culture is most likely not the language being spoken at school. Regardless of the multilingual student’s background or life at home, being immersed in the White, English-speaking dominant culture of America is a challenge (McInerney, 2022). Sociocultural differences can be a barrier to the sense of belonging that it is critical for a positive and successful school experience. Many multilingual learners have difficulty adapting to the norms and expectations of American schools. This can lead to a feeling of isolation and diminished self-esteem (Fu et al., 2019). Fu et al. (2019) wrote, “the language we speak shapes not only our cultural identities, but also our social identities, our sense of belonging” (p. 54). There is a strong correlation between a sense of belonging and school achievement. Research shows that the benefits of school belonging include academic, social, and emotional success for students (Allen et al., 2018). This is particularly true for students who hold historically marginalized identities (Graham et al., 2022).

Multilingual learners are also met with academic challenges, whether they are in pull-out or push-in programs at their schools. In pull-out programs, the students leave the mainstream classroom for a part of the day and therefore miss content that is being taught during that time, as well as valuable social interactions. In push-in models there is often a lack of collaboration between the ESL teacher and the classroom teacher, which results in the needs of the multilingual learners being unmet (Fu et al., 2019). Many ESL teachers report feeling more like a paraprofessional than a licensed teacher in push-in models.

There are many ways schools and teachers can cultivate a sense of belonging for all students. Embracing, celebrating, and sustaining the linguistic identities of multilingual learners are all critical to their academic and social-emotional success in school (Muhammad, 2020; Paris & Alim, 2017). This paper argues that schools must decenter English and adopt an asset-based mindset around language and linguistic identity. Educators need to believe in the genius that multilingual learners bring to their classrooms (Muhammad, 2020) and stop privileging dominant identities. This will benefit both multilingual learners and monolingual English-speaking students. As stated earlier, belonging has been tied to school success. Valuing and sustaining the linguistic identities of multilingual students tells those students that they belong in our classrooms. One of the ways teachers can cultivate a sense of belonging for multilingual learners, while also broadening the perspectives of monolingual students, is to instruct with dual-language books. This article discusses the different ways schools, particularly in Massachusetts, handle the teaching of multilingual learners. Then, I present an argument for adopting a translanguaging pedagogy through instruction with dual-language books.

Multilingual Learners in Massachusetts

There were over five million multilingual learners in the U.S. public school system in 2021, which accounted for 10.6 percent of the student population. (NCES, 2024). This number grew by almost one million since the year 2011. In Massachusetts alone, the 2023-2024 school year recorded 119,749 multilingual students, which was an increase from 90,000 in 2020, a number that had doubled since the year 2000 (Massachusetts Language Opportunity Coalition). Despite the numbers of multilingual students growing exponentially, the majority of public-school teachers are monolingual, with just 13% of teachers who speak a non-English language at home. (Williams, 2023). The scarcity of bilingual teachers in America is a roadblock to developing successful bilingual programs for students.

Sheltered English Immersion

With an increasing number of multilingual learners in United States schools, it is imperative that we examine our nationwide and state standards. Some states, like Massachusetts, require all teacher candidates to acquire a Sheltered English Immersion (SEI) endorsement. (Massachusetts Language Opportunity Coalition, 2023). The goal of SEI programs is to fully immerse multilingual learners in the English language. The Commonwealth of Massachusetts has a clear definition of SEI:

Sheltered English Immersion’ means an English language acquisition process for young children in which nearly all classroom instruction is in English but with the curriculum and presentation designed for children who are learning the language. Books and instruction materials are in English and all reading, writing, and subject matter are taught in English. Although teachers may use a minimal amount of the child’s native language when necessary, no subject matter shall be taught in any language other than English, and children in this program learn to read and write solely in English. (The General Court of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, 2024)

Through SEI courses and professional development, preservice and inservice teachers are taught strategies to support the English language development of their multilingual students. While the intention of SEI programs may be well-meaning, they are also perpetuating a dominant culture ideology where non-English home languages are seen as a deficit (Chang-Bacon, 2022).

Many education scholars have moved away from the philosophy behind Sheltered English Immersion programs. There is a tension between SEI and the culturally and linguistically sustaining practices that are being promoted by many state departments of education. The Massachusetts Department of Elementary and Secondary Education (MA DESE) (2024) recently issued their new educational vision. This document makes a clear statement about culturally and linguistically sustaining practices:

All students in Massachusetts, particularly students from historically underserved groups and communities, will have equitable opportunities to excel in all content areas across all grades.

Culturally and linguistically sustaining classroom and school practices will support students to thrive by creating affirming environments where students have a sense of belonging, engage in deeper learning, and are held to high expectations with targeted support. (Johnston, 2024, p. 4)

DESE’s website further explains linguistically sustaining practices as viewing multilingualism as an asset to schools and classrooms. This newly adopted educational vision seems to be in direct contrast to the theory behind SEI, where multilingual students are immersed in English-only classrooms.

To fully support multilingual learners, research suggests bilingual instruction is more successful than full English immersion (Williams, 2023). This research has supported the development of duallanguage or bilingual education programs. Unfortunately, the tensions between federal and state English-only education policies and linguistically sustaining practices exists even in schools that offer bilingual programs (Sánchez et al., 2022).

Dual-Language Programs

There are dual-language education programs at some schools in Massachusetts. These programs fall under two categories, either Two-Way Immersion (TWI) or One-Way Immersion (OWI). Both programs allow for at least 50% of the instructional time to take place in the non-English language, while maintaining high academic expectations for all students. However, in a TWI program, half of the students are native English speakers, while in an OWI program, 100% of the students are from the same language group (Massachusetts Language Opportunity Coalition, 2023). Unfortunately, only 14 districts in Massachusetts offer dual-language programs. This accounts for just 3% of the school districts in the state (Massachusetts Language Opportunity Coalition, 2023). As mentioned previously, there is a lack of bilingual teachers in this country, which is a necessary component for dual-language programs.

Dual-language or bilingual education programs often have their own issues. In the United States, many of these programs are still monolingually oriented (Fu et al., 2019). Most of the programs are transitional, meaning they allow multilingual students to practice both their home language and English for a few years before they are moved to English-only classrooms and exited from the program. Therefore, there is no attempt to sustain the students’ home languages or their own literacies. Programs like these are still privileging English as a preferred language for all students in this country. Fu et al. (2019) wrote, “such practices are incompatible with bilingual realities and deprive students of the opportunity to use all the language resources at their disposal” (p. 49). Instead, they and other linguistic scholars are now pushing for the adoption of a translanguaging pedagogy.

Translanguaging Pedagogy

Translanguaging pedagogy is an equitable, educational approach where students are supported to make meaning by mixing and integrating languages (Fu et al., 2019). The home languages of emerging multilingual learners are not only celebrated, but they are also used as vehicles to further develop the linguistic abilities of all students. Translanguaging pedagogy views linguistic diversity as an asset, not a deficit that must be addressed.

Fu et al. (2019) wrote about how all teachers can put translanguaging pedagogy into practice: Teachers need to systematically and purposefully design lessons to create spaces for translanguaging practice: Students can choose to read, respond, discuss in small groups, and draft in any languages, while the teacher reads, responds, recasts, explains, and communicates in English or any other target language. Teachers don’t need to know all the students’ languages but do need to provide space and resources and help students learn and work with one another.

In a translanguaging classroom, students have access to bi/multilingual books, reading materials, word walls, pictures, dictionaries, and online translation programs. (p. 100)

The authors emphasize the need for teachers to view themselves as co-learners with the students, and that translanguaging requires a communal effort amongst all school stakeholders.

At the nationwide and state level, education departments can create pathways and incentives for teachers to develop their bilingual capacities; or revise educational standards and teacher preparatory programs to reflect translanguaging pedagogy. At the school and classroom level, administrators, instructional coaches, ESL teachers, and classroom teachers can work collaboratively to design instruction that is inclusive of both multilingual and monolingual students. This involves a critical examination of the instructional resources in the classrooms used to develop literacy.

Dual-Language Books

“Translanguaging pedagogy is an equitable, educational approach where students are supported to make meaning by mixing and integrating languages (Fu et al., 2019).”

Dual-language books are texts that present the same story or information in two different languages. These books can be translingual, where the text moves between two languages; or bilingual, where the text appears in both languages on the same or opposite page; or

dual versions, where the same book is published in multiple languages (Short et al., 2023). These three types of dual-language books serve different purposes.

Most children’s books can be found in a variety of languages with a simple internet search. You can find classic stories like Where the Wild Things Are (Sendak, 1963) in Spanish, French, German, Chinese Mandarin, and other languages. These dual versions of translated texts allow multilingual students to enjoy the same tales as their English-speaking classmates. The issue with these texts is that the difference in language structures between the originally published version and the translated version can cause confusion. However, having both versions in a classroom gives all students the opportunity to explore different language structures (Domke, 2020). When using these texts in instruction, it is imperative that teachers draw attention to how the words are translated and the difference in sentence structure between the languages.

Bilingual books present the text in two different languages on the same page or on opposite pages. It is important for teachers to conduct a critical text analysis when instructing with bilingual texts or when choosing them for their classroom libraries. Some bilingual books present the two languages in different fonts, sizes, and colors. These books often prioritize English by displaying those sentences in bold type or positioning the English first on the page (Short et al., 2023). These books are still valuable for both multilingual and monolingual students; however, teachers should examine the power dynamic between the two languages within the text. This involves conducting a critical analysis during text selection. This is also an opportunity for teachers to support their students in building critical literacy skills. Students of the dominant culture often have no reason to question power dynamics and language structures in texts. These texts can be used to support bilingual development as well as critical literacy practices.

Translingual or translanguaging books are texts that integrate languages. The multilingual characters in these books converse between languages, just as multilingual people do on a daily basis. How words are displayed in these books can sometimes be problematic. LOTE (Languages Other Than English) words are sometimes shown in a different font or color, which could be interpreted as English being the norm (Short et al., 2023). As with bilingual books, it is important for teachers to critically examine all texts they use in their classrooms. However, translanguaging texts align with translanguaging pedagogy and are a valuable tool for both multilingual and monolingual teachers. Libros for Language (Burns et al., 2024) is a digital library of translanguaging books created to support teachers in finding texts to support translanguaging practices in their classrooms. Here teachers can search for books by genre, grade, language, text structure, topic, or typology. This is an important and useful resource for all teachers, especially as they choose inclusive texts to read aloud to their students.

Interactive Read-Aloud with Translanguaging Texts

Interactive read-aloud is a whole-group learning activity. The teacher reads a selected book aloud, while engaging the students in conversations before, during, and after reading. The benefits of interactive read-alouds include building a community of learners with shared knowledge regardless of their reading ability level and actively engaging readers in processing language and ideas (Fountas & Pinnell, 2019). There is powerful learning that takes place during interactive read-alouds. Students are asked open-ended questions that prompt them to examine their place in the world, especially when the teacher chooses inclusive picture books and engages them in critical conversations. Interactive read-alouds and the conversations that stem from those lessons can build empathy in elementary students. Empathy is a necessary quality in the healthy psychological development of children. It lowers aggression, encourages inclusion, and broadens a child’s perspective. Empathy development includes two domains, cognitive and affective empathy. Cognitive empathy is the ability to accurately name another person’s feelings. Affective empathy is how the other person’s feelings make us feel (Dadds et al., 2008). Both cognitive and affective empathy can be fostered through interactive read-alouds using inclusive children’s books. Developing reading skills, acquiring understandings of social justice, and building empathy all come from the conversations students and teachers engage in during interactive read-aloud lessons.

Reading translanguaging texts aloud builds comprehension skills and encourages participation (Kelly, 2022). In these lessons, teachers can both create a sense of belonging for multilingual students and broaden the perspectives of monolingual students. Kelly (2022) describes several ways for teachers, both multilingual and monolingual, to successfully execute interactive read-aloud lessons with translanguaging practices. For example, in her study she read the Spanish version of a text while paraphrasing and asking questions in English. This works for her, because she is fluent in both Spanish and English. However, as stated earlier in this article, there is a critical lack of multilingual teachers in this country. For teachers who are not proficient in languages other than English, Kelly suggests other ways to make space for all students’ languages, such as encouraging them to talk about the text with their peers in their preferred language or to use any language for their written response to the text. Kelly also mentions collaboration with multilingual members of the school and community-at large, which could involve inviting guest readers into the classroom.

However, if a teacher chooses to engage students in translanguaging read-alouds, they must be willing to learn along with the students. As Fu et al. (2019) explained, in translanguaging pedagogy, teachers are co-learners with their students. This starts with knowing the students in your classroom, their cultures, and their languages. Most importantly, teachers must have the disposition to embrace the notion that they are not dispensers of knowledge. Welcoming their students’ languages into their

classrooms and lessons is an affirming practice and requires full commitment.

Critical Text Analysis

As mentioned previously, dual-language books are not void of issues to examine. Sometimes, English is still centered as the dominant language through text placement, font size, and text color (Short et al., 2023). Therefore, it is necessary for teachers to conduct critical text analysis when selecting books to read to their students or to include in their classroom libraries. That is not to say that they should exclude these texts. However, they must be aware of the power dynamics between the two languages in the dual-language book and use that awareness when planning instruction. Students of all ages are capable of noticing differences in text, so it is reasonable for teachers to engage their students in text analysis as well.

Text analysis is a critical literacy practice. Vasquez (2014) examined the instruction of critical literacies with preschool-aged students. She conducted action research in her classroom to investigate the implementation of a critical literacy curriculum. Vasquez found that when she employed critical literacy instructional practices, her students learned to question the status quo, examine existing power structures, and reflect on what they can do to create equity. With dual- language books, teachers can engage students in critical text analysis by looking at how both languages are presented and comparing the language structures.

Something else for teachers to keep in mind when selecting dual-language books is the content of the stories in translated texts. It is important for teachers to provide students with texts that also celebrate the culture and ways of knowing that their students bring to the classroom. Sometimes when a story that was originally written in English is merely translated to another language, the context of the story is not relatable for multilingual learners. Although dual- language books bring great value to a classroom, it would be naïve of teachers to not critically examine them as they should with all texts. (Books that were examined when I conducted research for this article are provided in Appendix A.)

Conclusion

We all want to feel like we belong in the spaces we enter. Think about a time when you started a new job. What was it about the culture that made you feel either

“it is necessary for teachers to conduct critical text analysis when selecting books to read to their students or to include in their classroom libraries.”

welcomed or excluded? Research shows that a sense of belonging is not just a nice idea. For students, it is necessary for their academic, social, and emotional success (Allen et al., 2018). With the increasing number of multilingual students in our classrooms, we must re-examine our educational philosophy and policies surrounding English language learning. Teacher preparation requirements like SEI center English as the preferred language, which sends a message of exclusion to multilingual learners.

While classroom teachers may not have the authority to change the educational policies that govern their practice, there are steps they can take to value all of the languages of their students. The first step is embracing the genius that their students bring to the classroom (Muhammad, 2020). This involves adopting a culturally and linguistically sustaining mindset. Once teachers have knowledge of their students’ cultures and languages, they can use resources like Libros for Language (Burns et al., 2024) to find books that celebrate those cultures and languages. They can plan translanguaging readalouds and promote translanguaging practices for all of their students.

Going back to the opening vignette, it is clear to me that instructing with dual-language books is a powerful practice for both multilingual and monolingual students. When that second-grade teacher had the ESL teacher read that book in Spanish, she shifted the power dynamic in her classroom. For the first time, her two multilingual students felt empowered by the knowledge they had that their monolingual classmates did not possess. Suddenly, the other students were going to them to learn new words and language structures. Imagine classrooms across this country where this is commonplace. Multilingual and monolingual students learning together and from each other in inclusive environments. Environments where no one language is prioritized above all others. Instead, we can have classroom environments where all cultures and languages belong.

References

Allen, K., Kern, M., Vella-Brodrick, D., Hattie, J., & Waters, L. (2018). What schools need to know about fostering school belonging: A meta-analysis. Educational Psychology Review, 30(1), 1-34. https://doi.org/10.1007/ s10648-016-9389

Burns, M., Enriquez, G., Genece, J. & Ikomi, M. (2024). Libros for language. American Library Association https:// librosforlanguage.org/ Chang-Bacon, C. K. (2022). Monolingual language ideologies and the Massachusetts Sheltered English Immersion endorsement initiative: A critical policy analysis. Educational Policy, 36(3), 479-519. Dadds, M. R., Hunter, K., Hawes, D. J., Frost, A. D. J., Vassallo, S., Bunn, P., Merz, S., & El-Masry, Y. (2008). A measure of cognitive and affective empathy in children using parent ratings. Child Psychiatry and Human Development, 39, 111-122. https://www.doi.org/10.1007/s10578-007-0075-4

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Domke, L. M. (2020). Clarity, culture and complications: An analysis of Spanish-English dual language concept books. Journal of Children’s Literature, 46(1), 23-36.

Emergency Housing Assistance Program, 2024, 30 General Court of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. General Law - Part I, Title II, Chapter 23B, Section 30 (malegislature.gov).

English Learner Education. (2024, August 29). Massachusetts Department of Elementary and Secondary Education. English Learner Education - Massachusetts Department of Elementary and Secondary Education.

Fountas, I. C. & Pinnell, G. S (2019, January). “What is Interactive Read-Aloud?” Web blog post. What Is Series. Fountas & Pinnell Literacy Blog.

Fu, D., Hadjioannou, X., & Zhou, X. (2019). Translanguaging for emergent bilinguals: Inclusive teaching in the linguistically diverse classroom. Teachers College Press.

General Law, 2024, 2 General Court of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. General Law - Part I, Title XII, Chapter 71A, Section 2 (malegislature.gov)

Graham, S., Kogachi, K., Morales-Chicas, J. (2022). Do I fit in: Race/ethnicity and feelings of belonging in school. Educational Psychology Review, 34, 2015-2042. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10648-022-09709-x

Johnston, R. D., (Acting Commissioner). (2024, June). Overview of DESE’s educational vision & catalog of aligned supports. Massachusetts Department of Elementary and Secondary Education. DESE’s Educational Vision and Catalog of Aligned Supports (mass.edu)

Kelly, L. B. (2022). A translanguaging read-aloud. The Reading Teacher, 75(6), 763-766.

McInerney, K. (2022). Perceptions from newcomer multilingual adolescents: Predictors and experiences of sense of belonging in high school. Child Youth Care Forum, 52, 1041-1072.

McKinney-Vento Homeless Assistance Act, Title IX, Part A (2015). ESSA. https://www.ed.gov/ESSA

Massachusetts Language Opportunity Coalition. (2023). English language learners in Massachusetts. https:// languageopportunity.org/supporters/english-language-learners-in-massachusetts

Muhammad, G. (2020). Cultivating genius: An equity framework for culturally and historically responsive literacy. Scholastic.

National Center for Education Statistics (NCES). (2024). English learners in public schools. Condition of Education. U.S. Department of Education, Institute of Education Sciences. https://nces.ed.gov/programs/coe/ indicator/cgf.

Paris, D., & Alim, H. S. (Eds.). (2017). Culturally sustaining pedagogies: Teaching and learning for justice in a changing world. Teachers College Press.

Russell, J. (2023, September 10). As migrants are placed around Massachusetts, towns are welcoming but worried. NY Times.

Sánchez, M. T., Menken, K., & Pappas, L. N. (2022). “What are you doing to us?!”: Mediating English-only policies to sustain a bilingual education program. International Multilingual Research Journal, 16(4), 291-307. https:// doi.org/10.1080/19313152.2021.2015936

Short, K. G., Kleker, D., & Daly, N. (2023). Dual language picture books as resources for multilingualism: Children as language inquirers. Language Arts, 100(3), 206-218.

Vasquez, V. M. (2014). Negotiating critical literacies with young children, 10th ed. Routledge.

Williams, C. P. (2023, November 16). America’s missing bilingual teachers. The Century Foundation. America’s Missing Bilingual Teachers (tcf.org).

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Dr. Susan Flis worked in elementary schools for over 20 years as a classroom teacher, literacy interventionist, and instructional coach. She is now an Assistant Professor of Literacy Education at Bridgewater State University. Her research is grounded in critical literacy theory and is focused on supporting teachers in instructing with inclusive children’s literature.

APPENDIX A | EXAMPLES OF DUAL LANGUAGE TEXTS*

Translanguaging Texts

Denise, A. A. (2019). Planting stories: The life of librarian and storyteller Pura Belpré. HarperCollins. Engle, M. (2015). Drum dream girl: How one girl’s courage changed music. Clarion Books. Love, J. (2018). Julián is a mermaid. Candlewick Press.

Sorell, T. (2018). We are grateful: Otsaliheliga. Charlesbridge.

Tonatiuh, D. (2014). Separate is never equal: Sylvia Mendes & her family’s fight for desegregation. Harry N. Abrams.

Bilingual Texts

Brown, M. (2013). Marisol McDonald doesn’t match/Marisol McDonald no combina. Lee & Low Books. Carle, E. (1994). La oruga muy hambrienta/The very hungry caterpillar. Penguin Random House. Carle, E. (2023). La araña muy ocupada/The very busy spider. Penguin Random House. Carpenter, M. (2023). Colors/Colores. Starry Forest Books, Inc.

Murphy, M. (2008). I like it when…/Me gusta cuando… Harcourt.

Parr, T. (2000). The feelings book/El libro de los sentimientos. Little Brown and Company.

Translated Texts

Beaty, A. (2016). Ada Twist, scientist. Abrams Books for Young Readers. Beaty, A. (2019). Ada Magnifica, cientifica. Beascoa.

Blabey, A. (2020). The bad guys in dawn of the underlord. Scholastic. Blabey, A. (2024). Los tipos malos en ascenso del señor oscuro. Scholastic. Primeros 100 camiones y cosas que van. (2024). Priddy Books. Sendak, M. (1963). Where the wild things are. Harper & Row. Sendak, M. (1996). Donde viven los monstrous. HarperCollins Publishers. Willems, M. (2007). Mi amigo está triste. Hyperion Books for Children. Willems, M. (2007). My friend is sad. Hyperion Books for Children.

*The majority of the dual-language texts I found were Spanish/English. Go to Libros for Language - A Digital Library for Translanguaging Books (https://librosforlanguage.org) for texts in other languages.

WRITING

Ioanna Pettas Opidee

The impulse to do and revere art is an ancient need—whether on cave walls, one’s own body, a cathedral or a religious rite, we hunger for a way to articulate who we are and what we mean (Morrison, 2019, p. 54).

Although ample research has found that writing can be a source of affirmation, empowerment, liberation, healing, and joy, it can also be a source of dread, oppression, and identity-based harm, particularly for people who have been marginalized or minoritized (Chavez, 2021; Inoue, 2016; Morrison & Tonry, 2021). Some of this variance may be due to a person’s instinctual predilection (or lack thereof) toward writing, but much of it is likely due to schooling experiences and writing instructional practices that are steeped in, and shaped by, colonizing pedagogical approaches and policies that have long persisted as the default, and which prioritize compliance and standardization (del Carmen Salazar, 2013; Hedges & Goyal, 2017) over positive, identity-affirming learning experiences.

Writing is fundamentally linked to the self, as it is always a product of our own authorial choices and therefore a reflection of some refraction of our voice. Therefore, the self is in a place of acute vulnerability to harm when we write. This capacity for harm is especially due to the fact that writing— particularly the kind done for school—is also an inherently social act (Graham, 2018; Muhammad & Haddix, 2016; Stornaiuolo & Whitney, 2018) in that it is typically intended for an audience. For young people ages 5-21 and beyond, that audience, in the United States, is mainly a teaching workforce that is predominantly White, cis-female, middle-class, English-speaking (NCES), and (at least ostensibly) neurotypical (Mueller, 2021). This audience of teachers is also an evaluative one that is empowered, compelled, and most often required to rank and sort students according to perceived “ability” and skilllevel, as measured against the “standards” to which they are beholden, and by which they are required to assign numeric grades against a 100-point scale. As a result, those who experience the most harm from traditional literacy instructional practices in the United States tend to be those who are already marginalized in schools, particularly those who fall outside the categories of White, middle or upper class, predominantly English-speaking, neurotypical, and/or cis-hetero (Dutro, 2019).

While trauma-sensitive pedagogical approaches to writing are essential and continuing to emerge (Tayles, 2021), a healing-centered pedagogy notably does not center trauma in its processes and practices. Instead, a healing-centered approach is informed by an understanding of trauma but actively recognizes that “people are more than the traumas they experience” and is “explicitly political,” as it “restores cultural identities” and “builds an awareness of injustices” (Everett, 2021, p. FEATURED

10). It also, importantly, engages non-cognitive ways of knowing (Acosta, n.d.) and focuses not only on the experience of the student but also the teacher or other adult entrusted to the student’s care (Everett, 2021).

In this article, I argue for the value of arts-based engagement as an effective process and practice of a healing-centered approach to writing. This argument is supported by findings from my dissertation research study, Write the Way, which has sought to create a model for writing and writing instruction that is built upon a healing-centered conceptual framework.

Defining Arts-Based Engagement

While the term art itself is challenging to simply define, it is ubiquitously recognized within the literature as “a profound source of learning,” able to “jar us into thinking or feeling differently” (Leavy, 2020, p. 13), while capturing the subtleties, nuances, and complexities of human experience. Sullivan (2006) writes, “Art practice is a profound form of human engagement that offers important ways to inquire into issues and ideas of personal, social, and cultural importance” (pp.32-33). According to Greene (1993), “the arts can awaken us to alternative possibilities of existing, of being human, of relating to others, of being other” (p. 214). In all of these definitions, art is not so much a product being created but a process and a practice, as well as a frame of mind.

Arts-based engagement within a writing practice involves embracing the unknown, allowing for messiness, inviting a non-linear and exploratory process, and leaving room for ambiguity and uncertainty. Hammond (2021) conceptualizes such moves as adopting “studio habits” that allow for “cognitive chewing” and “productive struggle” (p. 4). Hammond’s approach is not unlike one that Graves and Murray (1980) take in their exploration of the artistic process of written composition in their seminal piece, “Revision: In the Writer’s Workshop and in the Classroom,” where Murray describes himself “fitting, joining, cutting, shaping, smoothing” like a “busy cabinetmaker in his shop” (p. 44), while Graves describes coaching students in a classroom through the necessary acts of listening, waiting, cutting, and gaining distance from their compositions, like an artist might. Hammond (2021), however, importantly approaches these notions of

“Arts-based engagement within a writing practice involves embracing the unknown, allowing for messiness, inviting a nonlinear and exploratory process, and leaving room for ambiguity and uncertainty.”

process through a culturally-responsive lens that aims toward equity and liberation for students with the most marginalized identities; those most severely affected by cultural forces and practices that favor compliance and standardization. Her approach is thereby particularly useful to a healing-centered approach that seeks to honor cultural identity and aims toward justice.

Arts-Based Engagement and Healing

To heal, from the old English word haelen, means to move toward wholeness; to bring the fragments together; to repair or restore. It signifies the process of becoming sound or healthy again. To center healing, then, means not to fix or reach a state of completion but to be guided by an intention to move in the direction of wholeness.

Art is healing because it does not force cohesion. It acknowledges the inevitability of fragmentation while honoring, representing, and potentially restoring us from the fractures. It moves us, specifically toward a new connectedness, a new wholeness. It is what Julia Cameron (2016) calls a kind of “spiritual chiropractic,” aligning the overtaxed body and mind with the deeper psychic dimension (p. 1). While psyche is the Greek word for soul, the term in English can be used interchangeably between mind and spirit, implying a deep melding of the two; the kind of melding that art can activate. A healing-centered approach to writing seeks to restore writers from this siphoning off of the spirit from the mind and body, and I argue here that explicit practice with arts-based engagement can serve as a mechanism for doing so.

Method

Study Participants

This case study involved 11 adult participants, several of whom are referred to pseudonymously below. While this group collectively includes a diversity of demographic characteristics in terms of gender, race, and cultural and linguistic backgrounds, the study did not engage in purposeful selection across demographic lines, but rather, based on professional identity markers. All participants are teachers either in traditional settings (K-12 or higher education), community settings (workshop and non-profit), or both, and each resides in the northeastern United States. All either identify as writers and/or have a demonstrated dedication to, or desire to learn about, the transformative possibilities of writing and/or writing instruction.

While invitations were extended formally via email through a recruitment letter, participants were chosen based on a shared rapport I have with each participant, developed through my involvement with numerous educational communities. In some cases, participants were selected based on direct

Words:

conversations about my doctoral work and their expressed interest in my subjects of study, while in other cases, I selected and reached out to participants based on my admiration for their teaching and/or writing practices or based on prior conversations about the challenges and joys of writing and teaching. As I chose participants, I kept in mind Maxwell’s (2013) caution that “it is possible to have too much rapport, as well as too little, but... it is the kind of rapport, as well as the amount, that is critical” (p. 83). The rapport we shared was based on a mutual dedication to the teaching, art, and/or practice of writing and/or healing, and may be seen as the basis upon which we worked toward understanding differences in viewpoint, experience, and/or philosophy.

Data Collection and Analysis

Data collection instruments used for this IRB-approved research included a qualitative survey administered to and a semi-structured interview conducted with all participants. The survey contained open-ended questions intended to help me glean insight into each participant’s interest in and match for the study. The survey also gave participants a chance to contribute thoughts without moving any further with the study. In the end, all survey respondents chose to be interviewed, and the survey responses helped guide my focus during each interview.

In aiming for a culturally-responsive and humanizing approach to both data collection and analysis, Paris (2011), Lee (2020), and San Pedro & Kinloch (2017) all note the dangers of colonizing research participants’ experiences when attempting to tell their stories, even when intending to employ decolonizing and humanizing methodologies. They assert the necessity of fostering authentic, sustained relationships with participants in order to avoid “other[ing] and oppress[ing]” people who share their stories and experiences (San Pedro & Kinloch, 2017, p. 378). According to Paris (2011), humanizing research must involve navigating a continuum of roles including participant, observer, and observer-participant based on the evolving dynamics of an authentically-built relationship between researcher and participant. He calls this research methodology “ethically necessary” and argues that it also “increases the validity of the truths we gain through research” (p. 137) because it more directly represents the participants’ identities and lived experience. For this reason, I forefronted the ethic of conducting a relational endeavor throughout the research process, ensuring that participation was consistently invitational in order to establish “process consent” (Leavy, 2022, p. 38) at every step, and tailoring interview questions to each participant’s interests and reasons for joining the study, based on insight gleaned from survey data.

Findings

Embracing Process and Practice (Versus Product and Perfection)

One key feature of arts-based engagement is an emphasis on process, more than product; on practice, rather than perfection. While the importance of valuing process, not just product, is not new to writing pedagogy (see: Murray, 2011), arts-based engagement offers a paradigmatic approach for supporting this shift in emphasis.

While most clearly relevant to creative writing, Hammond’s (2021) “studio habits”—borrowing techniques and approaches from the world of art, such as “productive struggle”—can be formally applied to writing instruction in any area in order to teach process (p. 4). An emphasis on perfection and production does not allow room for such struggle and is in many views and ways a colonizing force. In contrast, an arts-based writing practice that values experimentation, exploration, creativity, and nonlinearity can aim towards decolonizing the writing process for any writer, student or not. In Decolonizing Methodologies, Smith (2021) writes: “In all community approaches process — that is, methodology and method — is highly important. In many projects the process is far more important than the outcome. Processes are expected to be respectful, to enable people, to heal and to educate” (p. 149). An arts-based practice enables the writer to grapple with ambiguity, embrace the unknown, and experiment, all as aims in and of themselves, without prioritizing the outcome. Such a practice is rooted in respect for the writer, whether it is the self or another and honors the process as one that holds the capacity for empowerment, insight, and healing.

The connection between process and practice is similar to Freire’s (2000) concept of praxis: the conjoining of reflection and action. Freire’s notion of education as a “problem-posing” endeavor that involves teachers and students in a collaborative process of critical inquiry is one that “affirms men and women [sic] as beings in the process of becoming—as unfinished, uncompleted beings in and with a likewise unfinished reality” (p. 84, emphasis added). Freire’s use of the words “unfinished” and “uncompleted” are crucial to recognizing the ongoing nature of human development. A finite view of learning aims for a student or teacher to produce perfection—to achieve “mastery”—by the end of the unit, or class, or come as close to it as possible. A view of learning as unfinished, in contrast, necessitates an emphasis on process and practice, which renders learning limitless and undefined—a scary prospect for anyone looking to meet benchmarks of 100%, but an enthralling one for anyone energized by the infinite possibilities of learning and growth, willing to value and reward risk-taking over compliance and adaptation to a dominant standard.

An arts-based approach ideally resists positivistic notions of quality and would, instead, invite

and celebrate the full, embodied humanity of each writer by providing them with the guidance and support to ultimately craft their own goals, pursue their own vision, and evaluate their own work against their own standards, purposes, aims, and objectives, even when working within the constraints of an assignment. As hooks (1994) notes, such a process is empowering to teachers as well as to students—a collectively humanizing experience that frees the learning community from the pressure to produce and perfect. Instead, it deeply engages both students and teachers in learning, growth, and connection.

Below, I share multiple examples of teachers and writers who have aimed toward enacting such an approach. First, however, I examine some of the challenges of doing so.

The Challenges of Arts-Based Engagement

Hammond’s (2021) conception of “productive struggle” (p. 4) runs counter to the ways in which many, if not most, people experience, teach, and/or are taught to write. Maeve—a visual artist who incorporates reflective writing into the extracurricular social-emotional learning workshops she leads as a community member in various schools—sees so much beauty and opportunity for artistic expression in the written word but says, “There’s all this formality you go through with schooling that can suppress that tool, that vehicle, that means of expression.” She experienced this suppression herself after “a nasty comment” from a professor in college left her unable to write for decades. Only in the last few years, she rediscovered the artistic capacities of language, which has been a healing experience, not only within her relationship to writing but within her sense of self. “It brought a part of me back to life that had been pushed down and not able to thrive in a way it could have,” she says.

While the lack of freedom and invitation to creativity in the classroom can stifle imagination, joy, and expression, Greene (1986) aptly writes that “a mere removal of constraints or a mere relaxation of controls will not ensure the emergence of free and creative human beings.” Such an emergence, she argues, can only happen through “dialectical engagements with the social and economic obstacles we find standing in our way, those we have to learn to name” (p. 44). In my experience, simply offering students the opportunity to “be creative” or make choices without consistent and deliberate support, scaffolding, guided practice, and/or modeling, will not immediately, or even often, yield the creative freedom teachers (and even students) might expect. When this immediate outpouring of creative expression does not occur, people—including teachers and the students themselves—might cast the matter off with thoughts such as, “Well, I am/they are just not naturally creative,” or “I/they just don’t like creative writing . . . it’s not my/their ‘thing.” Relatedly, creative writing is often deemed to be nonessential, and something that cannot be taught, partly because it is so personal and difficult to assess (as if all writing isn’t). A dialectical engagement with barriers to creativity would include reflection on and inquiry into the sociocultural and political factors that silence and repress individuals’ creativity, often

from a young age, including classroom practices that emphasize a “right” and “wrong” way to write.

Resisting “Right” and “Wrong” Ways to Write

This resistance to a “right versus wrong” binary is partly what compels Austin—an elementary school teacher of social-emotional learning and performing arts—to incorporate art into all of their SEL teaching. They say:

Art unlocks these ways of thinking that are nonverbal, nonlinear, that break the rules. There are so many scripts out there in the world for how we’re supposed to be. Boys are supposed to be this way, girls are supposed to be this way, children do this, adults do this, people with this skin tone do this.

The rules are “not serving us,” they say, and are instead about needing control—especially in the classroom.

As an SEL teacher, without the onus of teaching and assessing literacy skills, Austin is free to focus on teaching students about “identity formation and social justice and community—how to be their best selves.” Nonetheless, many of their fifth-grade students have written powerful works of poetry of which they feel proud. While the practice of arts-based engagement may sometimes be focused less on the quality of the product, and more on the meaning of the experience, it is worth noting that the process of learning about craft and artistry can bring more complex dimensions to the product as well.

The Undervaluing of Emotion, Voice, and Imagination

In addition to an overemphasis on “right” and “wrong,” the challenge to engage in creative, arts-based practice stems from an undervaluation, restriction, and repression of emotion in schooling. Ahmed (2014) makes clear that emotion is steeped in power relationships that are “bound up with the securing of social hierarchy.” A Darwinian view of emotion has historically placed emotion both “‘beneath’ the faculties of thought and reason” and “‘behind’. . . as a sign of an earlier and more primitive time” (Ahmed, 2014, p. 3). Contemporary culture will elevate the role of emotion if it is associated with intelligence—as a “tool” that can be used for productivity or career success. Most writing done in schools is academic, and academic writing tends to favor an “objective” and intellectualizing approach. Emotional and embodied ways of knowing are marginalized or purposefully excluded from the process, most noticeably through admonishments against the use of first-person pronouns or phrases such as “I think,” “I feel,” or “I believe.”

Ethan, a high school social studies teacher, described his past experiences with writing as a

Words:

“rollercoaster.” After receiving an F on his first essay in college, he was advised by the TA who graded the paper to visit the university’s writing center, which he did, where the teacher’s main guidance was to eliminate traces of his voice. “Her advice was, you shouldn’t have any voice,” he said with a laugh. “Your opinions as the author don’t matter.” This perspective is one he later transmitted to his own students— that “history is this very objective thing, and you’re going to make an argument and try to use evidence to build that argument and so forth.” Now, he has begun to rethink that approach, allowing students to use personal pronouns in their writing and experiment with less traditional or conscripted approaches to writing. He also assigns “writing” projects (described further below) with a degree of openness that allow for the unexpected, giving students a sense of control with the underlying assumption that they will be able to come up with something great. Ethan’s ability and willingness to adapt is not always typical; Ahmed (2014) argues that “attention to emotions allows us to address how subjects become invested in particular structures such that their demise is felt as a kind of living death” (p. 12), a point that can help practitioners and researchers understand why pedagogical transformation is so often resisted or feared by those for whom an arts-based approach (or the use of “I” in academic writing) would be anathema.

In spite of forces that repress emotion and voice in academic writing, writers and writing instructors have strong emotions in relation to writing. Ahmed (2014) writes, “Emotions are relational: they involve (re)actions or relations of ‘towardness’ or ‘awayness’” (p. 8). Students and teachers alike may find themselves drawn toward or away from certain types, genres, styles, or forms of writing. Giuseppe, a high school English teacher, noted his frustration with the fact that “even the most willing and amenable” of his students still do not seem to enjoy the process but also described his own relationship with writing as “one of ambivalence and hesitation and utilitarianism only,” even though he has felt strongly driven to write in the past. He notes how the vast majority of his students—“younger people who have been inundated via an image-based communication system, mostly screens and their phones”—do not see much meaning in writing, and certainly in editing. While he believes in the “civic importance” of written expression, he similarly does not feel a strong inclination toward the practice. At the time of our interview, Giuseppe had recently left a job at an alternative high school serving school-avoidant students and found his students there had an extreme aversion to writing. “It’s utterly impossible for some of these children to write more than a sentence,” he says, and not because they don’t have the ideas or skills, but for at least two likely reasons: 1) they may have been told in the past that they are not very good at it, and 2) writing requires a degree of vulnerability that is frightening or triggering for students who already feel such a heightened sense of vulnerability due to prior or ongoing trauma. While Giuseppe can rationalize the reasons for this aversion, he admits that he finds it to be demoralizing, perhaps even contagious. When a student would arrive 10 minutes late to class, for example, he found it difficult to depersonalize, and it impacted his sense of purpose. “It feels like they’re

saying, ‘I don’t give a f—. And, if you [the student] don’t give a f—, I feel like, maybe what I’m doing doesn’t matter.” He realizes cognitively that a student in a constant state of fight or flight is likely not acting with that level of intentionality, but in the moment, “it feels like a punch in the gut,” and erodes his sense of purpose as a teacher of writing.

Along with the repression and exclusion of emotion and voice is the under-cultivation of the imagination, which Greene (2008) argues “is required to disclose a different state of things, to open the windows of consciousness to what might be, what ought to be” (p. 18). When imagination is relegated to elementary-school playtime, individuals and collectives may struggle not only to write creatively, but to think creatively, and imagine their way toward alternative ways of being. An arts-based approach engages, nourishes, and strengthens the imagination, which is vital to the type of transformation needed to identify and undo the deeply entrenched systemic harms present not only within the current state of education but of culture, society, and the human community as a whole.

Teachers As Writers As Artists

While Greene (2011) argues persistently for the need to transform curricula to incorporate the arts, she writes, “It is the teacher who makes the difference; [their] own cherishing and, yes, questioning encounters with the several arts” (p. 7). Yet teachers often struggle to find the time and space to practice art, to experiment and explore, to tap into their intuitive and psychic dimensions, while saddled with positivistic demands to improve students’ test scores or demonstrate linear progress in other reductive ways. Even the art of teaching itself is dampened by pressures to standardize curriculum and instruction, rather than respond organically to the students’ (and teachers’) needs and interests, or practice trial and error with new approaches.

Teachers of writing often (but not always) come to the profession with some degree of passion or interest in the art of writing themselves. Yet, the lifestyle and infrastructure of the job makes it challenging to access creativity or the type of inquiry that unsettles and disrupts in the way that Garcia-Lazo (2022) describes. As a result, it can be difficult to coach and guide students through an arts-based process and help them develop the type of confidence and even courage required to practice what Irwin (2013) calls an artistic “way of being in the world” (p. 201).

Lucy—a high school English teacher like myself, who also holds an MFA in Creative Writing—finds it nearly impossible to write during the school year, due to “competing pressures on [her] energy.” During our interview, which took place in June of 2023, she talked about how difficult it can be to access or reaccess a creative project during the school year. She had recently opened the document containing her historical fiction novel and saw that she hadn’t touched it since August 23 of the previous year. “It took me an hour just to sort of remind myself that this is something I can do,” she said. Her various roles—mother,

teacher, spouse—compete with her writerly self, making it hard to find time and space for creative work. “Also on the other side,” she added, “I’m sure you know—when you’re working on anything, you get caught up in it and your brain kind of swirls around with the different dimensions of it and ways to access it, and sometimes that can set the tone [laugh] and I forget how to talk to human beings.”

Jade, a teacher of yoga and ayurveda who is writing a book about finding purpose, talked about waiting for a “welling up” of momentum around a creative project in order to write. I asked her what she might advise for someone with external pressure to write because of deadlines, or someone less attuned to noticing that “welling up,” perhaps because of professional responsibilities. She suggested the practice of putting pen to paper each day, or on a regular basis, just to see if something comes, without any pressure or expectations attached. She said: “Maybe then I might feel more of a pull, and if not, I’ve given myself that little chunk of time to check in, and that feels okay.”

Jade’s approach can be seen as a type of “design constraint,” which Marvel—who has published multiple books and teaches as an adjunct professor at the graduate school level while maintaining a fulltime job in the nonprofit sector—deliberately builds into her writing process. “Design constraints can be my friend,” she says—just as they often are for artists (Rubin, 2023).

Austin echoed this idea when they discussed working with a student with autism, who wrote a very literal haiku in response to a prompt about how their sense of self had evolved over the course of the school year, essentially writing, “I am now non-binary. This is different from the fall/when I was not non-binary.” When Austin asked him what made this poem different from an essay, the student understandably said, “I did do the syllables.” At that point, Austin realized that they, as the teacher, had been hoping specifically for students to add imagery and figurative language into their work, but hadn’t asked for it. “It was a good learning point for me,” they said, “because it made me realize, if you are going to work with a really fixed thinker, then you have to make the rules really clear. Or, my rules. If my rule is, I want you to use imagery or metaphor, then I have to be really clear about that.”

While open-ended prompts seeking no specific outcome can be important, some students may not instinctively experiment with language without specific prompting or guidance—without design constraints. With Austin’s prompting, the student was eventually able to reach for figurative language, which enabled him to practice thinking more abstractly.

“Arts-based approaches inherently engage the intuition— what one might call the “soul dimension”—through an emphasis on sensing, feeling, and perceiving.”

Engaging the Poetic Dimension

Arts-based approaches inherently engage the intuition—what one might call the “soul dimension”—through an emphasis on sensing, feeling, and perceiving. In writing, such an approach might involve inviting and allowing for ambiguity of expression, and for the audience to complete the meaning-making process. In my view, this approach can be understood as a way of harnessing the poetic impulse, even when not writing poetry.

Marvel aims to take a poetic approach, no matter what she is writing. In addition to there being “no extraneous words,” she says:

What is most exciting about poetry is that it’s playful . . . not only are there no extra words you don’t need, but many of the words are loaded and are full of multiple words themselves. So poetry creates like a six dimensional model in a way that like nothing else can do, really. Poetry is almost sculptural . . .

The playful experience Marvel describes is, to my mind, akin to Austin’s point that poetry can create a kind of “somatic experience” that allows a writer “to access more about what [they’re] thinking that [they] didn’t know [they] were thinking,” by embracing a non-prescriptivist form and style, and experimenting with words.

Carnegie, previously an elementary-school teacher who writes poetry and memoir recreationally, attributes her attraction to poetry, in large part, to the fact that she grew up in a bilingual household, where her mother spoke Korean. She says:

Communication and words were very delayed in my development . . . one of my most concrete memories is being in third grade and being pulled out of class and being put with a small intimate group of three or four kids and we would just read together. That teacher . . . she was very patient. We would just go over the origins of words, intricate parts of words, in a way you can’t do in a regular classroom. After having that experience, I just looked at words differently.

Once she was exposed to poetry, she became “full of wonder” and thought, “This language doesn’t really make sense, but there’s something there that just makes me feel something.” In eighth grade, her interest in writing poetry took hold when a teacher complimented her prose for being “poetic.” She says, “Prior to that, I was always more of a visual artist. I was always trying to express myself visually. Because I was always finding it difficult to express myself in words.” Having a teacher compliment her on

something she had previously seen as a deficit transformed her relationship with writing forever. I would posit that her teacher’s suggestion of a poetic quality to her writing resonated with her already-present identification as an artist, providing a welcome place for writing within her self-concept.

Maeve similarly spoke of her passion for poetry despite—or perhaps related to—her fraught relationship with words. She says:

Words are like flowers in the garden. Which ones can you identify, can you pick, can you see. . . for me, I haven’t had a big flower garden of words. That’s the frustrating thing that I’ve felt. I’ve had so many feelings, so many ideas . . . Not being able to write them has made me go in other directions like photography and drawing. I really don’t think in a linear way. And I think a lot of kids don’t.

The writing opportunities she offers the middle-school students with whom she works are, thus, designed to meet the needs of students who may think in abstract ways, not always honored by academic assignments.

Poetry and Healing

“Poems are highly attentive to space (which includes breath and pauses) . . . evoking a snippet of human experience that is artistically expressed as in a heightened state” (Leavy, 2020, p. 85). In this way, poetry also asks the reader and writer to slow down, which runs counter to a dominant culture that is implicitly and explicitly demanding that we work faster, smarter, and harder; that we do more, produce more, and consume more. Shahjahan (2015) illustrates how colonial constructs that dominate higher education (and, by extension, I would argue, all of education) perpetuate “the illusion of separateness between mind-body-spirit” (p. 499) and ultimately colonize our bodies to serve the functions of productivity needed to keep pace with hypercompetitive and individualistic demands. As a result, “Amid product-oriented learning tied to future outcomes, sensory ways of knowing are relegated to the sidelines” (Shahjahan, 2015, p. 496). The author argues that, “to re-embody the body in the learning environment, we need to slow down, be mindful, and embrace present moments,” particularly by making time and “fostering a space for the ‘unspoken’” through reflection and contemplation, and by engaging the senses (Shahjahan, 2015, p. 496). Poetry inherently engages the senses and creates space for the “unspoken.” The body of a poem, to Leavy’s (2020) point, makes physical space for that unspoken through line, stanza, and space breaks, and other forms of white space on the page.

Discussion

While the findings above are intended to offer a conceptual and theoretical argument for nurturing arts-based engagement as a practice within any writing process and across various settings, extensions of this research can examine more practical applications of these ideas by zooming in on individual cases.

A healing-centered approach to writing recognizes the ubiquity of trauma and harm, of fractures and fragmentations, but it does not center the ruptures and wounds; it centers opportunity the opportunity for movement toward wholeness. Writing is a site of such opportunity, and arts-based engagement provides a mechanism for acting upon such opportunity.

Arts-based engagement is just one of several processes and practices that can aid in a healingcentered approach to writing. While arts-based engagement may be most clearly relevant to a creative writing practice, I argue that its “moves” can be useful to any writing process, from the most formal to the most experimental, because it honors the writer, and not just the writing. As such, it aims to create conditions for sustainable and responsive practice that contains the acute possibility for healing.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Ioanna Pettas Opidee is a PhD candidate at Lesley University and a high school English teacher in Connecticut. She holds an MFA in creative writing and is the author of the novel Waking Slow.

FEATURED ARTICLE | SITTING WITH STUDENTS IN THEIR STUCK SPACES: SOCIAL AND EMOTIONAL LEARNING IN EQUITABLE WRITING INSTRUCTION

Cami Condie and Mariah Brennan

Students are buzzing around the classroom like worker bees in a hive. Free Write days are their favorite. They gather their pencils, crayon boxes, and books and head over to the paper tray where they select their paper of choice. What will they write? A narrative? A comic strip? Perhaps lined or blank paper as a canvas? At this point in early May, first graders know their way around the classroom and can independently access resources and materials. Mariah’s (second author) first graders set up shop with confidence and excitement. Some students head to the circle table, eager to start “Writing Club,” where a group of four girls team up to write their own Magic Treehouse (Osborne, 2023) adventures for Jack and Annie.

Far in the front corner of the classroom by the window another writer works in solitude. He puts on his noise-canceling headphones and illustrates his sabretooth tiger book. “Did you know their teeth were as big as bananas?” his piece begins.

The writers take up space in this classroom-on the rugs and seated at and under tables. Their writing folders are overflowing with their pieces. As Mariah walks around the room to check in on writers, students share materials, ideas, feedback, and their writing with each other. Mariah compliments a student who has struggled with stamina and wrote for an uninterrupted 15 minutes, “You did something today that challenged you! How are you feeling?” When it is time to wrap up writing workshop, students are heard begging for “five more minutes” and “Can we be a little late for dismissal? Our parents will understand!”

Mariah teaches first grade in a Massachusetts, Title I, public elementary school that serves many multilingual learners. Her students enter with a variety of proficiency levels and a spectrum of feelings related to school and whether they will be successful.

We now highlight a counterexample from Cami’s (first author) teaching twenty-five years ago with a grace-filled lens; all former experiences need compassion as we engage in reflective hindsight. Cami’s classroom was similar to Mariah’s--set in a city with a diverse student population, where achievement metrics highlighted inequitable learning opportunities for her historically marginalized populations, including Black and Brown children, multilingual learners, and children living with fewer resources. Cami’s first graders also eagerly wrote during writing time, but key differences are present in her student-writers’ experience.

Cami is glad for some writing time today because finishing math usually shortens or eliminates the writing block. Her young writers are seated at their tables with their self-illustrated writing journals, and students are settling into their writing block.

Immediately into writing time, a student projects his voice across the room to Cami, “How do I spell because?” Almost innately, Cami points to the word on the word wall, spelling it aloud for him so she can quickly move on to the next student. About 10 minutes in, Cami notices a writer with her head down repeatedly mumbling, “I don’t know what to write about.” Cami projects her voice to the whole class stating that they can write about their weekend, recess, or how to teach someone how to play Pokémon, and then moves on to the next raised hand.

Halfway through the block, another student loudly claims they are done, followed by others echoing, “I’m done!’. Cami notices just one brief idea written down on their pages and decides to announce another whole class reminder: “Early finishers can reread their writing and then find a book to read quietly while the others finish working.” Several students hurry to put away their journals and race to grab their books. A short time later, the timer dings, and those writers still working shut their journals mid-sentence to line up for P.E. Again, the writing block has left Cami utterly exhausted from constant student needs and “putting out fires.”

In both classrooms, students are writing. In both classrooms, students appear to enjoy their writing experience. Both of us were and are committed to supporting all of our students and recognize that our attention needs to be more deliberate for young writers who have been historically marginalized. In our classrooms, these populations include learners from linguistically, culturally, racially, and ethnically diverse backgrounds, students with learning disabilities, and our writers from less-resourced backgrounds.

In the decades separating these examples, Cami’s teaching situation still resonates today, yet now we know more as we embrace equitable education and Universal Design for Learning (UDL, CAST, 2024). Equity work leads us to consider who in our classrooms need different supports beyond wholegroup instruction, and how we tailor our instruction with our students’ interests, backgrounds, and needs in mind. We champion the belief that equitable instruction is essential for some and helpful for all.

With lots of similarities, it’s important to note the differences in our writers’ experience. Mariah’s classroom highlights a growth mindset in action, a perspective that celebrates “Not yet”(Dweck, 2010), where learners believe in what is possible, look for opportunity, and see growth as a nonlinear process. Its converse, fixed mindset, is often characterized by “I can’t” with comparisons, like “Maybe others can, but not me.”

Some of Cami’s writers demonstrate perseverance in difficulty, but it was not most of them. Unknowingly, Cami’s well-meaning, teacher-centered support contributed to a fixed mindset in her young writers because she was the source of every solution. Instead of problem solving, her young writers built a reliance on their teacher for writing tools (e.g., pointing out the word wall) or craft moves (e.g., determining a writing topic, knowing when a piece is finished). In other words, Cami’s uber-fast support guaranteed future stuckness because she resolved each writing problem quickly and efficiently.

Her writers were not becoming more independent; in fact, their dependence was increasing! The research cautions that working with students in a one-on-one conference or setting can limit a student’s independence, particularly for students with disabilities (Brock et al., 2020). Inadvertently, this learned helplessness can perpetuate learning inequities and can impede a learner’s growth (Condie, 2023). And, Cami unfortunately communicated that writing “finishes,” and reading is the reward. If we could sit with past-Cami, we feel certain she would want support building student independence and perseverance during writing time. This autonomy is part of providing more equitable literacy instruction, an area of growth that past-Cami can learn from Mariah’s current teaching.

In this article, we investigate how Mariah created the environment and the writing confidence and perseverance in her buzzing, engaged young writers. In this research-to-practice article, we situate writing pedagogy in a social and emotional learning (SEL) framework and research, then we name the teaching moves and SEL principles that Mariah uses to establish a safe environment for her writers. We present a dialogue framework that teachers can use to communicate confidence in students’ decision making when they experience a stuck space.

We want to specifically name that we see this connection between writing and social and emotional learning as an aspect of equitable instruction. SEL can disrupt and inform our work to surface underlying inequities and to foster restorative justice (Jagers et al., 2019), work needed to repay the education debt owed to historically marginalized populations (Ladson-Billings, 2006). Gholdy Muhammad (2024) helps us frame our social justice solution, “What helps historically marginalized students find their place in literacy learning?” (MRA Conference Keynote). We assert that social and emotional learning, supported during writing instruction and practice, can build more equitable education structures and experiences for our students who experience marginalization and for our students who are learning to see their own privilege and work for greater equity for others (Jagers et al., 2019). Our aim is to enact bell hooks’ (1994) vision, namely the “difference between education as the practice of freedom and education that merely strives to reinforce domination” (p. 4).

Why Social and Emotional Learning with Writing?

Writing is emotional work. It includes joy, pride, elation, happiness, exhilaration, glee, delight. When writing works, writers experience a “writing flow”--a time when ideas match our ability to communicate them seamlessly and effortlessly (Fletcher & Portalupi, 2001). As teachers, we often celebrate and highlight our student-writers’ more comfortable flow-moments, like when Mariah’s students read their writing to their classmates.

Writing also includes impatience, frustration, helplessness, confusion, fear, disorganization-moments when writing flow is elusive or feels unattainable. Normalizing the uncertainty and the vulnerability of writing also contributes to establishing a class writing culture that provides a safe space for all learners to express less-comfortable feelings, or when a writer pushes through a writer’s block, like Mariah’s student who increased their writing stamina, a personal hurdle in their writing growth. Lessons around social and emotional learning can teach acceptance of these feelings, provide names for these feelings, and build confidence to know what to do when these feelings are experienced.

In other words, writing is a feeling activity because writing is inherently social, even when completed alone or for oneself. We pose the question: “How do we support student-writers in the feeling part of the writing experience?” We want our young learners to feel safe to feel. Equitable education includes emotional safety for each learner, meaning that all learners receive support in their vulnerability.

Social and Emotional Learning Components Related to Writing

In Mariah’s teaching, a key component is the foundation of social and emotional learning. The Collaborative for Academic, Social, and Emotional Learning (CASEL; n.d.), defines SEL as:

the process through which all young people and adults acquire and apply the knowledge, skills, and attitudes to develop healthy identities, manage emotions, and achieve personal and collective goals, feel and show empathy for others, establish and maintain supportive relationships, and make responsible and caring decisions. (para. 1)

Massachusetts aligns with the CASEL SEL Standards, naming five integrated areas (MA DESE, 2024) described here through a writing lens:

• Self-awareness is confidence in one’s own writing ability and a disposition towards problem

solving (e.g., what word to use in this context for this audience, what to delete). Self-awareness is acknowledging when a genre may be your most “flow zone,” but another genre is less so. Mariah prefers poetry and persuasive writing more than informational pieces.

• Self-management regulates emotions when given writing constraints, sets realistic writing goals, and applies strategies in stuck space without derailing the whole writing experience. In writing this article together, Mariah and Cami gave each other tasks prior to the next collaborative writing session.

• Social awareness includes supporting others’ writing experience and holding their lived experience as important and noteworthy. Mariah helped revise Cami’s “counterexample” at the beginning of this article to apply a consistent grace-lens.

• Related to Relationship skills, student-writers can work together with partners when they experience a stuck space. This SEL skill is related to listening and collaborating, complementing others’ growing areas with our own. In writing this article, Mariah took on the role of ensuring all of our ideas were relevant to the subheadings and flowed logically, aspects that Cami finds frustrating.

• Responsible decision-making includes curiosity and open-mindedness seen through accepting others’ suggestions and opinions, and owning our words’ impact over intent. Together, we worked toward accessible and unbiased wording, and we made joint decisions about what to keep (and what to take out).

The social and emotional learning research consistently demonstrates through meta-analyses--a report that synthesizes findings across a large number of studies--that student academic achievement increases when SEL programs are well-implemented (Durlak et al., 2011). We acknowledge that academic achievement is a limited, inequitable measure of student success; we hold a more nuanced view that student success is also confidence, independence, problem solving, risk taking, and selfregulation. We acknowledge that SEL, like other educational frameworks, can be implemented in rote, mechanical ways that do not center students and can overfocus on individual growth as opposed to building a collaborative, safe environment (Hoffman, 2009). In other words, independent self-regulation and problem solving are best achieved in the context of noticing how our actions and behaviors impact and contribute to the community. Plus, SEL work must also incorporate cultural relevance in order to disrupt stereotypes and narratives around historically marginalized populations (Mahfouz & AnthonyStevens, 2020).

Barriers to SEL Implementation in Writing

In our current literacy era, too often literacy instruction has been reduced to scripted, skill-based curricula (Souto-Manning, 2021), which directly impact students’ writing experience. First, we want to name that scripted writing curriculum, where the teacher is required to implement “with fidelity” or “with integrity,” is in tension with the student-centered pedagogy of equitable education (Aukerman & Chambers Schuldt, 2017; Condie & Pomerantz, 2020) and that tension can be particularly difficult for new teachers to navigate (Pomerantz & Condie, 2017).

Second, SEL integration can be trivialized by the decontextualization of isolated literacy skill work, which is specifically harmful for historically marginalized populations (Muhammad & Mosley, 2021; Souto-Manning, 2020). Research consistently demonstrates that contextualized literacy instruction adds authenticity and relevance to anchor student learning and improves literacy achievement (Duke et al., 2006). In writing, common decontextualized examples include (1) isolated phonics practice disconnected from reading or writing text (Souto-Manning, 2020); (2) handwritingformation practice as a replacement for writing (Condie, 2023); and (3) the absence of author’s purpose in teaching sentence structure and sentence fluency. Without context or authenticity in writing experiences, SEL integration can feel pointless.

Examples of Writing Equitable Instruction

We now offer three examples of equitable writing instruction that disrupt inequity and foster students’ voice, choice, and agency. The first example suggests embracing less-traditional, out-ofschool literacies. Muhammad’s (2015) extensive work in Black Girls’ Literacy described their generative writing in nontraditional mediums, including social media posts and video (like YouTube, TikTok). Here, “writing became a hybrid medium to construct ideals of self amid dominant discourse” (Muhammad, 2015, p. 243). Black Girls’ Literacies explored historical, collaborative, intellectual, and political/critical commentary in rich, meaningful ways. Importantly, it was spaces that allowed for countering dominant discourse.

The second example we highlight addresses a common emphasis in literacy classrooms: Dominant American English is often privileged, and conversations about additional Englishes (e.g., Spanglish, African American Language (AAL), Hawaiian Creole) are “watered down and oversimplified” (Hartman & Machado, 2019, p. 314). In writing, dominant discourse includes Standard Edited American English, which differs from oral varieties of English. A first-grade classroom (Hartman & Machado,

2019) embraced, rather than avoided, natural conversations about race and language. With careful consideration, listening, and learning about appropriation, the teacher planned a unit incorporating the language practices spoken by the children in his class and chose bilingual texts and texts written in AAL. Student writers read, listened to, and discussed Allow Me to Introduce Myself by Black poet Charles R. Smith, Jr. (2018). Together, the teacher and students noticed grammar features in AAL, and some student writers began using it in their own writing. In one example, a Black female student of Nigerian heritage wrote dialogue in her poem using multiple negation:

“Hello I’m Marissa I moved in next door

I wanted to give these berries Man! I don’t want no berries Ok… Bye then.” (Hartman & Machado, 2019, p. 318)

Another biracial student intentionally dropped the ending -ng in gerunds and replaced them with n’ and began her piece, “Goin’ shoppin’ with my Papa.” In a later interview about her choices, she acknowledged, “I know the language. I just didn’t know the name before” (Hartman & Machado, 2019, p. 319). The teacher’s intentional and careful instruction around language led to affirming and legitimizing the student’s language practices and provides us an example of leaning into critical conversations about race and language.

In our last example of equitable instruction, researchers created a classroom activity called “Taking the Temperature of the Classroom” that centered and honored student voices and experiences (Zumbrunn et al., 2017). Across two schools in the U.S., 114 fifth-grade students were invited to draw a picture of a recent writing experience and how they felt in that moment; then the students wrote a description of their illustration. The drawings and descriptions were then analyzed for indicators of positive and negative experiences.

In the student pictures, positive writing feelings included smiling faces, balloons, or a writer depicting themself actively writing. “Love,” “interest,” or “fun” were categorized as positive writing feelings. Depictions of negative feelings included frowns, straight mouths on faces, question marks, yawns, paper shredders, and fire-consuming writing paper. Negative words included “stuck,” “frustrated,” or “forced.” One student wrote, “Writing makes me feel crumy [sic] because I always do a teribale [sic] job.” (Zumbrunn et al., 2017, p. 674). Across the student writers, more than half depicted or wrote about joy, but one-third indicated a recent writing experience with more apathy, anxiety, frustration, or unhappiness.

One student writer drew the teacher smiling while they were frowning, seemingly indicating a discrepancy between the teacher feeling pleased and the student’s experience. These discrepancies are spaces for curiosity and provide the most insight into the ways the students in front of us are experiencing inequity. “Who are these students?” “Are certain populations within our classroom having a less positive experience?” “What can create more meaningful, positive writing experiences?” Addressing the answers to these questions can make our own classrooms more equitable.

Teaching Writing with Intentional SEL

In this section, we highlight through Mariah’s teaching how to create an SEL foundation that is genuine, sustainable, and impactful and how it supports her student writers. We start by providing more background to understand the environment Mariah creates in her classroom; then we show how her teaching moves establish the language of SEL and a writing mindset that acknowledges emotions and is solution-oriented.

In Mariah’s classroom, SEL is a tool to establish a welcoming learning environment that extends across all curricular areas. Her classroom rug is called the “Home Base” and is the gathering space for class meetings, where students lead the Class Promise from the “Stage,” a lowered table in front. The Class Promise incorporates all of the SEL aspects:

• Do what is right, not what is easy. (self-awareness, responsible decision-making)

• Celebrate differences and learn from one another. (social awareness, relationship skills)

• When you fall, get back up! (self-awareness, self-management)

• Ask questions! No one knows everything. (responsible decision making, self-awareness)

• Do something every day that challenges you. (self-awareness, self-management)

• Treat others the way you want to be treated. (relationship skills, social awareness)

Mariah reinforces these mindsets when she acknowledged the student who struggled with stamina, “You did something today that challenged you! How are you feeling?” Risk taking looks different for every writer and becomes their own unique growing space, like trying a cliffhanger for the first time, dabbling with satire or humor, using newly-learned soccer lingo, or unashamedly attempting invented spelling.

Replacing “Easy”

Foundational to Mariah’s teaching is a focus on the language used between, among, and to her

Words:

students. The use of words is frequently discussed and becomes the context, where Mariah establishes an important part of their class culture: Replacing the word “easy” with “I am really good at/feel confident in ____. I can teach it to somebody else.” Mariah is proactive, preventing student comments like “I can do that. That’s easy!” and “Personal narratives are easy for me to write.” Replacing easy with the new language represents a growth mindset for her student writers. Applying the SEL skills, this reframing supports self-awareness, social awareness, and responsible decision-making. This supportive language also translates “easily” into partner work, when her young writers provide feedback after a writer bravely shares their writing from the Stage.

Stuck in Discomfort: Normalizing Emotions in Writing

Developing as a writer requires risk taking, boundary expanding, and a growing tolerance for trying new, uncomfortable things--all experiences that can be felt as “stuck.” It is human nature to avoid discomfort, yet discomfort is needed for growth, and that is especially true in writing. In the “temperature” research we discussed earlier, feeling stuck was associated with a negative feeling about a student’s recent writing experiences (Zumbrunn et al., 2017). This part of their analysis made us cringe, though it may be true for the students in their study. All writers do get stuck. We’d like to reframe the experience that feeling stuck does not mean that something is wrong. Rather, it means we need to be curious to navigate the stuck space.

An important aspect of the social justice aspects of self-love and self-awareness is normalizing feelings. In the Class Promise, Mariah normalizes: “When you fall, get back up!” Her writers learn to embrace that “stuck” is part of everyone’s learning process and does not equate to a “bad” writer or writing, and writers become “stuck” for many reasons.

When a young student writer feels stuck, unlike adults, they may not have the self-awareness, the vocabulary, or the knowledge of craft moves to identify why. Mariah finds success normalizing the stuck spaces by modeling, asking herself, “What is making me feel stuck?” She uses a think aloud to model the feelings in her own stuck space: “I want to crumple my paper. I have to start over. I don’t know what to write about next. I am frustrated. I am confused. I don’t want to keep writing.” Mariah then role plays and invites her young writers to offer ideas on what to do next. Students remind her to take a deep breath and then suggest asking questions that can spark ideas for Mariah to include or change later. These young writers are remarkably good at offering comfort, “It’s okay, Mrs. Brennan. I want to read your story about Kali. You don’t have to throw it away or start over.” At times, students even refer back to the Class Promise, “When you fall, get back up!”

An important part of the think aloud is that Mariah is honest about the feelings she shares. bell hooks (1994) reminds us that as teachers we need to be willing to take the risks that we ask of our students. This role play normalizes stuckness and allows writers to feel seen as well as to give them next steps. This role play also highlights recognizing the writer before the writing. In other words, the writer, not the writing, is the focus. After the writer’s experience is acknowledged, then the writer may be more open to feedback and specific suggestions related to their piece.

A Framework for Sitting with Writers in Their Stuck Spaces

Mariah’s own vulnerability, the empowerment from feeling seen by others, and the focus on the supportive next steps have been very successful in helping her young writers become more skillful at navigating their stuck spaces. What follows is a framework to support teachers--and eventually can be taught to students--as we support others in their stuckness.

We begin by setting the stage. Importantly, we teachers can stop talking. We may need to take a figurative (and maybe literal) deep breath and step back.

Slowly and calmly, we can proceed to support.

Step 1: Name the feeling. Provide reassurance. “It looks like you are stuck. That can feel uncomfortable. I have confidence that you can figure it out.” Then we give space without speaking. Supportive silence is powerful emotional support.

Slowly and calmly, if more is needed, we provide another step of support.

Step 2: Become curious. Not too quickly, we can ask, “What is making you feel stuck?” Many students may quickly quip, “I don’t know.” The goal is for the student to articulate where, and what, and how, and why they feel stuck. When we listen, we are showing trust in our student writers’ use of their agency to find a solution (Condie, 2023).

A tricky balance starts here. Watching someone struggle can be very challenging. It may feel counterintuitive to our nurturing, compassionate natures not to immediately support. As in Cami’s earlier example, it can be tempting to “fix” students’ challenges quickly. As teachers, we must give the student time in the discomfort. We can provide emotional safety. Each time a teacher sits in this lesscomfortable space without fixing, the student writers’ “toolbelt” of resources grows, and their ability to navigate their own stuckness strengthens. Our aim is to be expansive rather than constrictive.

Slowly and calmly, we can continue.

Step 3: Rename what the student writer identified as their stuck challenge: “You said you are stuck on spelling.” It’s best to use the writer’s exact language. In this way, we are showing confidence in their problem naming, essential to figuring out a solution. Additionally, this explicit naming is increasing equitable access for students who may not infer as readily.

Slowly and calmly, if the student needs more support, consider the next step.

Step 4: Provide forward motion options. Rather than providing the answer, we can ask an openended question: “How would it feel to pause and revisit later on?” We can normalize moving forward and then returning when our feelings are a little less raw. “What tool could you use to help you with that?” “Would talking to your writing partner help?” Forward motion, not our immediate solution, is the goal. If the student asks for our input on specific craft moves, our role is to provide encouragement. “You could do either of those choices. I am confident you’ll figure it out.”

Students’ answers in this stuck space become our own formative assessment--a “temperature” check for our writing instruction. Throughout this process, if a student writer doesn’t have an answer, that becomes the answer for us as the teacher: We teach!

Slowly and calmly, we intentionally provide more emotional safety.

Step 5: Give space. “I have confidence in you. I’ll check back later.” The student now has our encouragement and a forward-motion option. We can move on (for the moment). Our professional judgment is paramount: Our knowledge of our students helps us know when they have sufficient support and need us to let them try something on their own. And, we can check back tomorrow or when they’re standing in line because conversations about writing happen throughout the day.

These steps outline our internal and external work as teachers. We disrupt systemic inequity by providing intentional time and space for our linguistically, culturally, and ethnically diverse learners, addressing some of the educational debt we owe them (Ladson-Billings, 2006).

Sitting with the reasons we feel stuck as writers takes time. It takes time to respond, time to hold space, time to identify a next step or solution, and time to recover. This process is not fast but can assist students into becoming independent, confident writers. And, our personal experiences highlight that the more autonomy and agency we provide our student writers, the more capable they become in regulating their own social and emotional learning.

Acknowledging Mandate Realities

We are very aware of the current state of mandated curricula that limits teacher autonomy, decision making, and professionalism. “How do I spend this much time with students if I am supposed to be on Week 7, Day 4 in the manual?” is a valid, earnest question. Curriculum success is teacherspecific. In other words, a teacher’s expertise, professionalism, relationships, and demeanor have a greater impact on students’ learning regardless of the curriculum, consistent with research since the First-Grade Studies conducted 60 years ago (Bond & Dykstra, 1964; Willis & Harris, 1997).

For those teachers who are required to read from the script with fidelity, we honor and support your efforts to make the curriculum meaningful and relevant to your learners. Your integration may be outside of the script, but you can have a similar beneficial impact on your students as you acknowledge their real feelings in real time and celebrate their steps toward independent solution-finding.

Conclusion

Our purpose in writing this article was to highlight the importance of social and emotional learning as a foundation for equitable writing instruction. Addressing the stuck spaces can support writers in becoming more confident solution finders. The areas of SEL - self-awareness, self-management, social awareness, relationship skills, responsible decision making - are essential components of building young writers’ capacity to tolerate, navigate, and thrive in the stuck spaces of developing as writers.

The strategies and suggestions in this article are based in Mariah’s first-grade classroom but are easily adaptable to writers in upper elementary classrooms and in extended learning spaces, like summer and afterschool programming. Additionally, the independence, confidence, and joy students learn to navigate during writing time can transfer into other content areas.

Sitting with student writers in their stuck spaces also allows us to sit with a student who may be wrestling with dominant discourse or who worries how an audience will receive their words. We return to Hartman and Machado’s (2019) work to encourage intentional explorations of African American Language or your students’ language practices in mentor texts. In the Black Girls’ Literacy research (Muhammad, 2015; Muhammad & Mosley, 2021) and the first-grade students’ embracing of their own linguistic practices (Hartman & Machado, 2019), we see the powerful impact of teachers, instruction, and decentering dominant English in equitable instruction. Dismantling the systems and confronting

the ways our education system has and continues to privilege some and deprivilege others requires deliberate change. We believe sitting in discomfort with our student writers can be a crucial part of this equity work.

We hear the question: “Is it a good use of our time to sit with students in their stuck space?” We believe the benefits are worth the wait.

References

Aukerman, M., & Chambers Schuldt, L. (2017). Bucking the authoritative script of a mandated curriculum. Curriculum Inquiry, 47(4), 411-437.

Bond, G. L., & Dykstra, R. (1967). The cooperative research program in first-grade reading instruction. Reading Research Quarterly, 5-142.

Brock, M. E., Schaefer, J. M., & Seaman, R. L. (2020). Self-determination and agency for all: Supporting students with severe disabilities. Theory into Practice, 59(2), 162-171.

CAST (2024). Universal Design for Learning Guidelines version 3.0. Retrieved from https://udlguidelines.cast.org Collaborative for Academic, Social, and Emotional Learning (CASEL). (n.d.). Fundamentals of SEL. https:// casel.org/fundamentals-of-sel/

Condie, C. (2023). Reimagining writers’ agency. The Massachusetts Reading Association Primer, 51(3), 8-28.

Condie, C., & Pomerantz, F. (2020). Elementary students’ literacy opportunities in an age of accountability and standards: Implications for teacher educators. Teaching and Teacher Education, 92. https://doi. org/10.1016/j.tate.2020.103058

Duke, N. K., Purcell-Gates, V., Hall, L. A., & Tower, C. (2006). Authentic literacy activities for developing comprehension and writing. The Reading Teacher, 60(4), 344–355. https://doi.org/10.1598/RT.60.4.4

Durlak, J. A., Weissberg, R. P., Dymnicki, A. B., Taylor, R. D., & Schellinger, K. B. (2011). The impact of enhancing students’ social and emotional learning: A meta-analysis of school based universal interventions. Child Development, 82(1), 405-432.

Dweck, C. S. (2010). Even geniuses work hard. Educational Leadership, 68(1), 16–20. Fletcher, R., & Portalupi J. (2001). Writing workshop: The essential guide (1st ed.). Heinemann Hartman, P., & Machado, E. (2019). Language, race, and critical conversations in a primary-grade writers’ workshop. The Reading Teacher, 73(3), 313-323.

Hoffman, D. M. (2009). Reflecting on social emotional learning: A critical perspective on trends in the United states. Review of Educational Research, 79(2), 533-556.

hooks, b. (1994). Teaching to transgress. Routledge.

Jagers, R. J., Rivas-Drake, D., & Williams, B. (2019) Transformative social and emotional learning (SEL): Toward SEL in service of educational equity and excellence. Educational Psychologist, 54(3), 162-184, DOI: 10.1080/00461520.2019.1623032.

Ladson-Billings, G. (2006). From the achievement gap to the education debt: Understanding achievement in U.S. schools. Educational Researcher, 35(7), 3-12.

Mahfouz, J., & Anthony-Stevens, V. (2020). Why trouble SEL? The need for cultural relevance in SEL. Occasional Paper Series (43). DOI: https://doi.org/10.58295/2375-3668.1354 Massachusetts Department of Elementary and Secondary Education (2024, May 19) Social and Emotional Learning in Massachusetts.

Muhammad, G. E. (2015). In search for a full vision: Writing representations of African American adolescent girls. Research in the Teaching of English, 49(3), 224–247.

Muhammad, G. (2024). Cultivating Genius and Joy in Education through Culturally and Historically Responsive Pedagogies [Conference presentation]. Massachusetts Reading Association Conference, Sturbridge, MA.

Muhammad, G. E., & Mosley, L. T. (2021). Why we need identity and equity learning in literacy practices: Moving research, practice, and policy forward. Language Arts, 98(4), 189-196.

Pomerantz, F., & Condie, C. (2017). Building bridges from pre-service experiences to elementary classroom literacy teaching: Challenges and opportunities. Teaching and Teacher Education, 64, 211-221.

Souto-Manning, M. (2020). In the pursuit of justice: Students’ rights to read and write in elementary school. National Council of Teachers of English.

Willis, A. I., & Harris, V. J. (1997). Expanding the boundaries: A reaction to the First Grade Studies. Reading Research Quarterly, 32(4), 439-445.

Zumbrunn, S., Ekholm, E., Stringer, J. K., McKnight, K., & DeBusk Lane, M. (2017). Student experiences with writing: Taking the temperature of the classroom. The Reading Teacher, 70(6), 667-677.

CHILDREN’S LITERATURE CITED

Smith, C. R., Jr. (2018). Allow me to introduce myself: Basketball poem. Youtube.com.

ABOUT THE AUTHORS

Dr. Cami Condie has worked as an elementary school teacher, literacy interventionist, literacy coach, and consultant. She is a Visiting Lecturer at Harvard University, an Associate Professor at Salem State University, and a literacy consultant. Her research interests include writing agency, building disciplinary literacy in the elementary grades, improving extended learning opportunities for multilingual learners, and exploring teachers’ specialized literacy knowledge.

Mariah Brennan is in her ninth year as a first-grade teacher. She received her Early Childhood Education Bachelor’s and Master’s degrees from Bucknell University and Salem State University respectively. Mariah also teaches in Salem; was a nominee for Massachusetts Teacher of the Year award; and is an active member in her school community, serving on the Climate and Culture Team, Instructional Leadership Team, and as a Girls on the Run Coach.

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FEATURED ARTICLES

Dear MRA Literacy Community,

LETTER FROM THE 2025 MRA CONFERENCE CHAIR

Proven solutions to build

FEATURED AUTHOR | THE LANGUAGE OF STORYTELLING: BREAKING BARRIERS AND EMPOWERING LITERACY THROUGH THE CRAFT OF WRITING

2. Writing builds empathy and understanding.

3. Writing drives success for multilingual learners.

References

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

FEATURED ARTICLE | DIALOGIC DISCOURSE AND NAVIGATING

A CLASSROOM CASE STUDY

Teaching Interpretation: Two Approaches

Pedagogy: Dialogic Versus Monologic Instruction

Research Questions

Methods

Findings

Ms. Parker Engages in Close Reading Through Monologic Pedagogy

Ms. Parker Engages in Close Reading Through Dialogic Pedagogy

Ms. Parker and Critical Literacy

Ms. Parker Asks If Fairies Exist

Dana Critiques Normative Narratives of Family

Rowan’s Critique of Wealth, Social Class, and Power

Discussion

References

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

FEATURED ARTICLE | FINDING THE LIGHT IN LITERACY THROUGH PROJECT BASED LEARNING

Introduction

Literature Review

Introduction to Project-Based Learning (PBL)

Cognitive and Critical Thinking Benefits

Social and Emotional Development

Engagement and Real-World Relevance

Teacher Perspectives and Implementation Challenges

Research Methodology

Rationale for Design

Educational Context

Site and Participants

Data Collection

Data Analysis

Findings and Discussion

Theme: Project-Based Learning as Deep Integration

Theme: Importance of Student Autonomy in Project-Based Learning

Authentic and Child-Driven Learning

Empowerment and Ownership

Process-Oriented Learning

Theme: Inquiry in Project-Based Learning

Theme: Connecting Work to the Community

Educator Perspectives: Community Integration and Culminating Events

Case Studies and Examples

Implications for Practice

Recommendations for Future Research

Longitudinal Studies on PBL Impacts in Early Education

Teacher Training and Support in PBL Implementation

Student Autonomy and Engagement in PBL

Cross-Curricular Benefits of PBL in Literacy

PBL and Social-Emotional Development

Parent and Community Involvement in PBL

References

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APPENDIX | FOCUS GROUP QUESTIONS

Empower Literacy Success with Proven,

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Decoder Kids

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Introduction (A Vignette)

Introduction to Antiracist Pedagogy

Stylistic Choices in Racial Discourse

Centering Black Students in Antiracist Pedagogy

The Urgency of Antiracist Pedagogy

Defining Core Concepts

Understanding Anti-Black Racism in Education

Examples of Anti-Black Racism in Education

Significance of the Pillars

Transformative Action: Unleashing the Power of Antiracist Pedagogy

Immediate Actions Teachers Can Take

Real-Life Applications of Antiracist Pedagogy