It happens more often now. That awkward pause. A tightness in my stomach. The choice. Do I let the moment pass or do I say something?

Silence is a choice.

I’m not the same person I was fifteen, ten, or even five years ago. A younger-me was sometimes unaware of the subtle or not-so-subtle inequities and injustices around me. And other times, I simply looked the other way.

We live in a country that does not treat all of its people compassionately, equitably, or justly. I’ve always known this. Growing up a Black girl in Boston, how could I not? But I’m also a pleaser—a don’t-rock-the-boater. As a Black girl, and now a Black woman navigating mostly white spaces, I’ve learned to find my place and fit in. Over the years as a teacher and now as a writer, I’ve accepted that and enjoy the relationships I’ve made in schools, in writing organizations, and in various online spaces.

​And yet those uncomfortable moments don’t go away. They’re frequent. My white friends and colleagues may be surprised to know how often POC feel those small and not-so-small stings to the spirit. The proposal of another all-white booklist or an all-white conference panel. Problematic classroom favorites that are recommended again and again. Microaggressions that tear down self-esteem (and the need to explain those microaggressions to others). As a teacher, I value the teachable moments when I get to gently open my students’ awareness to their privileges and the inequities of the systems in which we all live and breathe. Yet with adults, sometimes it’s harder to pull forth the energy to speak.

Sometimes, the choice is whether the issue is worth spending the emotional capital you have saved. Do you have it to spend? How many times have you raised a similar issue before? Is it worth the risk of sliding into the stereotype of the “angry Black woman” or appearing difficult or dissatisfied? All emotional labor that non-WOC often do not bear.

Yet still, I don’t look away anymore; I can’t. But I look around.

I notice who is quiet and wonder if anyone else will speak. Often, it’s other women of color. Why is that? It’s not fun. It’s not easy. There’s often greater pushback for us. 

Sometimes, there is defensiveness when racist or inequitable practices are brought up or remedied, as in the renaming of the ALA’s Children’s Legacy Award (previously the Laura Ingalls Wilder Medal) or the NEA’s decision to rebrand the Read Across America program and leave behind Dr. Seuss.

Other times, there is silence from those that perhaps feel themselves allies. In her article “Nothing to add: A Challenge to White Silence in Racial Discussions,” Robin DiAngelo explores the causes for “white silence” when race is on the table. The reasons vary from feeling “I have nothing to add” to “I don’t want to be misunderstood” and “It’s not my personality to share in groups,” but despite the personal validity people may feel in their reasons, they all function to support white privilege and power in situations involving race. There are times when non-POC friends and colleagues should rightly sit back and listen, but those situations usually involve intra-community issues. When POC share their experiences of oppression or injustice, silence only invalidates the message being delivered.

Personally, I’ve left three different Facebook educator groups this year that I had joined for professional development. Unfortunately, instead of growth and enrichment, I found the opposite was true in each instance. My interactions in these spaces left me feeling drained. If someone posted a question or comment that had problematic content related to diversity, equity, or inclusion, I gently tried to push back or share my knowledge in order to help and support my fellow teachers. Sometimes, it was received well, but more often than not, there was a “digging in” around the problematic opinions and practices. 

And from others, there was often silence.

In a recent interview at the WOW Women of the World Festival at the Apollo Theater, poet Nikki Giovanni said, “One of the things I think is missing right now, is we seem to be spending time telling white people what they're doing wrong, instead of telling Black people what we're doing right." She praised the wit and bravery of Black women like Representative Maxine Waters as she speaks against Donald Trump's oppressive policies, but Giovanni recognized the toll it takes, and has taken on Black women in the past, to do this work. Her advice was “lean on the everlasting arms” and connect to our past for strength.

That made me think. Who came before us and chose to speak? Ida. Claudette. Georgia. Who came before me? Rosa Simmons Giddis, my grandmother.

Born in 1920 in Union Spring, Alabama, my grandmother "Momma" married young to my grandfather Earnest “Chick” Simmons. By the time she was 17, she had two children, and when she was just 33 years old and her husband was killed in a coal-mining explosion, she was left to raise ten children on her own.

​But she didn’t do these things alone, and nor should any of us. Allies are needed, but those allies must recognize that the work is for our collective benefit. There can't be "us" and "them." Only we. When addressing issues that impact the lives of children, there is no place for saviors; no place for silence.

Black women and other women of color know that speaking up will always have risks. The outcome is uncertain. When fatigue sets it, you question if your efforts will make a difference. But when you make a commitment to be reflective and antiracist, that choice leads towards action.
​
When I think of Nikki Giovanni’s words, I think of Momma. The mantle of her example lies before me and I wonder at its weight and beauty.

So, I commit to celebrate the achievement and excellence in our communities of color and to, as Nikki Giovanni so eloquently said, "tell Black people what we're doing right."

I commit to more self-care to keep my creative light alive and bright.

And, I’ll continue to use my voice in support of equitable and inclusive systems and practices in education and in the kidlit community. For Momma, for my children and the children I teach, and for myself, I'll keep speaking up.

But it’s exhausting. 
​

​This blog post is part of the #31DaysIBPOC Blog Challenge, a month-long movement to feature the voices of Indigenous, Black, and people of color as educators, writers and scholars. Please CLICK HERE to read yesterday’s blog post by Dr. Sarah Park Dahlen and CLICK HERE to read tomorrow's post by Michelle H. Martin and Edith Campbell.

Who we are is shaped by many factors, those pushing from within and those from without. Colliding circles of who we are when we step into the world, who we want to be, and the compounding effects those identities.

Dr. Kimberlé Crenshaw describes intersectionality in her paper exploring the oppression of Black women and the ways interlocking systems of power affect marginalized communities. 

​I am an educator.
I am a writer of children's literature.
I am a Black woman.

Each identity rings its notes and in the center I try to bend them towards harmony.

I come from a family of strong women educators. My aunts and cousins are kindergarten teachers, third grade teachers, special education teachers, and high school counselors and social workers. Education has always been important.

Beginning in third grade, I was bused from my neighborhood in Boston to an affluent suburb on the South Shore to attend school. It was my first experience navigating a mostly white space as a Black girl. Amid opportunities and challenges, I thrived and made friends, but I also faced microaggressions; some I didn't recognize until later in life.

College was another mostly white space. I rose to meet challenges, but I also felt my otherness and something new, impostor syndrome. Was I good enough? Did I belong?
​
In education, I still find myself in predominantly white spaces, especially in independent schools. I count myself lucky to work in a school that is deliberate in its efforts to be inclusive and equitable, and prioritizes social justice. I have more colleagues of color than ever in my career and count many other colleagues as demonstrated allies. Yet, navigating the field as a person of color takes courage and vulnerability. 

As a new English teacher many years ago, I was mentored by generous and supportive veteran educators, but I didn't feel empowered to question the literacy methods and curriculum I inherited. I followed along and became a good instructor, but...

Something I couldn't name felt off. I returned to school and developed the language for what I had been questioning.

Was I meeting the needs of my students who identified as other than white? How culturally responsive was my literacy instruction? Where in the curriculum were the voices of color and marginalized groups?

I began to assess and question my work critically.

What I recognized was that most of what we read and discussed in my fifth grade classroom centered the experiences of the white majority. We read books such as The Cay by Theodore Taylor and The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle by Avi–books that centered white characters who often learned about race and racism through the efforts and sacrifices of secondary characters of color.

How would I have felt as a Black girl in my own class reading these books? The answer saddens me. 

Where on my shelves could students find mirror texts to accurately reflect their beautiful and varied identities? Stretched for money, I had built my classroom library using points earned from student orders from Scholastic Book Clubs. I ordered the books highlighted in its pages: Little House of the Prairie by Laura Ingalls Wilder, The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Indian in the Cupboard by Lynne Reid Banks. Was I unconsciously presenting unchallenged stereotypes and poor representations through the reading choices I provided? Again, I was sad to realize the answer. Yes.

So, I changed.

What books are on my shelf now? I actively seek books by #OwnVoices authors and those who identify as Indigenous or as people of color. Books like:

• The Bridge Home by Padma Venkatraman
• Blended by Sharon Draper
• The Serpent's Secret by Sayantani DasGupta
• Watch Us Rise by Renée Watson and Ellen Hagan
• Amal Unbound by Aisha Saeed
• The Vanderbeekers of 141st Street​ by Karina Yan Glaser
• Skeleton Man by Joseph Bruhac
• Esperanza Rising by Pam Muñoz Ryan
• The New Kid by Jerry Craft
• The Jumbies by Tracey Baptiste
• A Good Kind of Trouble by Lisa Moore Ramée
• Amina's Voice by Hena Kahn
• Sal and Gabi Break the Universe by Carlos Hernandez

These books reflect authentic voices of Indigenous and authors of color and positive representations in which students may find themselves, not only stories of oppression.

Teaching as a Black woman, I have learned that I have to be a voice that questions. Silence and accepting the status quo is the biggest sin I can commit. 

I owe it to students to promote a literacy that is inclusive, authentic, and joyful. I owe it to them to question the canon. I owe it to them to take a critical stance towards every book we read together.

​To do that, I must be equal parts learner and teacher.

Publishing is another field that is overwhelmingly white and female. When I audited my classroom library and reading lists, I shared with a colleague my disappointment about the the lack of voices of color in our curriculum. Her response? "You should write a book." I blinked and thought, Yes, I should!

Fantasy was my beginning, a genre I loved as a young reader. I thought back to the books I read as a child. 

A Wrinkle in Time by  Madeleine L'Engle, The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis, The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster, Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of Nimh by Robert C. O'Brien, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory by Roald Dahl.

What do you notice about this list of books?

​Yup. Overwhelmingly white. Growing up in the 1970s and 80s, if I found a book by a Black author in my elementary and middle school libraries, it was usually historical or realistic fiction. Often it didn't reflect the middle class family and environment in which I lived.

​I wanted to write something different. A book that "middle-school-me" would have curled under the covers with a flashlight to read. A book where a girl like me could see herself on a magical adventure.

Here are some sobering facts. The number of books that contain multicultural content over the past 24 years, remains a low 13%. In addition, Black, Latinx, and Native authors combined wrote only 7% of all books for children published in 2017. A children's book is more likely to depict a main character that is an animal or inanimate object than a child of color.

So, I started writing. Being a consumer of children's books, I somehow held the wild misbelief that this writing would flow easily. *Queue laughter*

Alas, teaching children's literature is like riding in a car driven by an expert driver. Writing it is not the same.

Keep your hands on the wheel. Learn to steer. Figure out the gears. What do these buttons on the dash do?

I joined the Society of Children's Book Authors and Illustrators (SCBWI), the professional organization for those in kidlit, found a critique group, and started learning my craft. I attended workshops and conferences. I drafted. Revised. Revised again. Did I mention that I revised?

Thankfully, the needle is moving toward greater inclusivity and representation for authors of color in the children's publishing industry. Books like Angie Thomas's The Hate U Give and Samira Ahmed's Internment have shown that kids and communities of color do read and want more books that speak to them. Unlike "middle-school-me," my students can name many authors of color who write amazing stories with imagination and truth.

Still, breaking through in publishing is hard. Finding agents and editors who connect with stories and voices that may be outside of their experience is a challenge. Connecting with mentors and fellow writers of color is important to sustaining a career.

​Many of us have found affinity groups and support within the greater kidlit community through Twitter, Facebook groups, organizations like #WeNeedDiverseBooks and the I, Too Arts Collective, and events like the Kweli Color of Children's Literature Conference. Publishing has also responded with mentorship opportunities like The Highlights Foundation Diversity Fellowship and publishing imprints like Kokila and Rick Riordan Presents, both of which center stories told by authors from traditionally marginalized groups.

I've come a long way in six years. I successfully queried my first middle grade fantasy manuscript and am agented by the fabulous Lindsay Davis Auld at Writers House. But publishing is a long game. It takes years from query, to submission, to book contract, and finally publication. In the meanwhile, you need to write the next thing.

I've learned to stop talking about my writing sheepishly, like it is a hobby or distraction that I do on the side. It's important. Not only for me as a fuel for creativity, but as a real-world model of writing for my students.

Why do I write?

I write for that kid. The one just like me, waiting to see herself in an adventure. The brown-skinned hero of a fantasy, off saving the world.

I am an educator.
I am a writer of children's literature.
I am a Black woman.

I stand in the intersection using my words to call for justice and change through literacy.

Whether in the pages of a book I read to my students or one that I write for children, I am finding my voice.

This blog post is part of the #31DaysIBPOC Blog Challenge, a month-long movement to feature the voices of Indigenous and teachers of color as writers and scholars. Please CLICK HERE to read yesterday’s blog post by Antero Garcia (and be sure to check out the link at the end of each post to catch up on the rest of the blog circle).

The study of rich, compelling literature is at the heart of the middle school English classroom. Reading is a communal experience, and teachers lead by example. Through read-alouds, think-alouds, book talks, and discussion, we model strategies that support reading through best practices.

Modeling writing is equally important, but it doesn’t often happen in the same active or continuous way that reading does. “It helps motivate me to write well,” says one student when asked about the value of teachers writing with students. As teachers, many of us provide models for writing assignment that students may reference when beginning a paper, or we draft topic sentences or other parts of an essay with students to support writing skills. That is a strong start, but it is not quite the same immersive modeling that is often part of reading instruction. In whole novel classrooms, we read the novels we teach with our classes, but how often do we write the same assignments we ask of our students?
 

Time is a factor, as is the ever-present paper load, but compelling reasons exist for teachers to model writing with their students. In his journal article, “Teachers as Writers and Students as Writers,” Joseph Eng argues that if teachers of writing “seek opportunities for writing with their students, they will, logically, develop better insights into the ‘processes’—including challenges and values—their student-writers find within the context of a particular writing assignment.”(1)
 
One answer to the immersive modeling I wanted came when I participated in the NaNoWriMo Young Writers Program with my fifth-grade students.

NaNoWriMo, National Novel Writing Month, is an innovative writing event that challenges participants to write a novel in just 30 days. The goal for adults participating in NaNoWriMo is to write 50,000 words during the month of November, but K-12 students participating through the Young Writers Program may set their own reasonable, yet challenging, individual word-count goals. Over 100,000 young writers and 4,000 classrooms have participated in NaNoWriMo since its inception. (2) Students’ novels can be about anything they want, and this is what generates the most excitement. I’ve seen books about football, time travel, alternate worlds, and secret identities. At the end of November, educators and participants report substantial improvement in self-confidence, creative thinking, writing skills, and time management. An important key to creating a learner-centered classroom is motivating students by allowing them some control of their own learning and encouraging collaboration, an important 21st century skill. NaNoWriMo allows for both goals.
 
I introduce NaNoWriMo to my students in the last weeks of October, so we can begin discussing the elements of a good novel and plan our stories. NaNoWriMo provides a curriculum and a student workbook that may be used to help prepare students to write and also has lessons and activities to be used when the month is over.
 
The YWP (Young Writers Program) website was revamped recently, and it now features tools for students and teachers. During November, students log in regularly to record their word count, and a dashboard shows them their progress and anticipated finish date. The teacher dashboard tracks the entire class’s progress toward its total word-count goal, and message boards allow teachers to post resources for students to use while drafting work.
 
During the month, I commit to writing time each class period. Students are eager to write and to see me pulling up my work as well. NaNoWriMo champions the idea of turning off the “inner editor,” and we focus on habits that will help us move forward in drafting and not get stuck. We put stickers on a progress chart as we reach completion milestones, and students see mine go up as well. For a fun bit of focused writing, we often do writing sprints. I set up a 5- or 10-minute timer, and everyone writes silently until time is up and then lists their word count on the whiteboard. I am not always the winner, but winning doesn’t matter. All of this builds a strong sense of community in the classroom. We support and encourage each other, and students know that I am taking part in the same adventure they are.
 
When NaNoWriMo is over, I insist on putting the stories away for some time. After spending a month focused on one story, we need fresh eyes before revision. After time has passed, we start a revision process modeled on advice from professional writers. I talk about the difference between “big-picture” revision and “line-editing.” Then, we read our stories aloud; note questions, confusion, and other issues; and write a revision letter about our plan for improving the stories.
 
Next, I introduce students to the idea of critique groups—small groups of three or four students who will read and give feedback on each other’s opening pages. This is somewhat different from peer editing. We talk about being in a critique group as similar to having a conversation about the story and asking questions. Again, I model for students by giving them two pages of my own writing. We talk about how to give constructive feedback, and I share specific issues about my writing that I’d like to receive feedback on. After letting them read my work quietly, I open the discussion and take notes on the comments, just as I want them to do. I end the discussion and then show them excerpts of the feedback my personal critique group has given me on the same pages. The students are excited when they see where their comments align with those of the more experienced writers.
 
After students have revised and shared excerpts of their novels with me, we wrap up our noveling with what would be the next step for professional writers—querying. I explain to students the publishing process that a traditionally published book goes through. Using online resources, we look at the wish lists of various literary agents who represent middle grade literature. We use the information to write a query letter to an imaginary agent. Last year, we posted our queries on Kidblog, a site that enables K-12 teachers to publish student writing (https://kidblog.org). We used Twitter to invite our favorite authors and other writers to comment on our work. Students were excited about getting feedback from writers and receiving replies on Twitter from several authors. One student who compared her book to Ruby Reinvented by Ronni Arno was thrilled when she received an autographed book from the author.

When I first introduce NaNoWriMo to my students, there is always a mixture of excitement and worry. Questions like “I can write about anything I want?” are followed by laments, such as “I’ll never be able to finish a novel!” I encourage them to do their best. Most will succeed, some will struggle, but all will learn a tremendous amount about goal-setting, perseverance, and creativity. What calms them most and adds to their motivation is my simple response: “I’m going to do it with you.” Suddenly, the assignment shifts from something hard I’m asking them to do as an outsider to a challenge they can approach with me as a peer.
 
In his article “On the Importance of Writing With Students,” teacher Greg Shafer describes accepting a student request that he write a spooky story with the class:

​I first did this project in 2012 with my classes, and I have done it every year since. I’ve personally “won” NaNoWriMo twice, making it to 50,000 words in the month, and I’ve failed three times—right in front of my students. Writing along with them has built a community of mutual support and encouragement as we all help each other harness our creativity and write.
 
Two emails I received in recent years illustrate what students have taken away from this experience. The first was sent to me by a student one evening over Thanksgiving break, days before NaNoWriMo was to end:

Here is what a parent wrote me about the impact of NaNoWriMo on her child.

Those are the types of letters every teacher hopes to get, but what is most special is what the students recognized in themselves. When we give students choice and ownership, push them to challenge themselves, and work alongside them, they are capable of so much more than they ever thought they could be.

If you do not yet consider yourself a “teacher-writer,” a first step might be to join other teachers already on the journey. A great community on Twitter is #TeachWrite, moderated by TeachWrite LLC (https://www.teachwrite.org), an educational consulting firm. #TeachWrite hosts a chat the first Monday of each month on topics relating to the writing lives of teachers.
 
The National Writing Project (NWP) offers resources and professional development for teachers on developing a practice of writing for themselves. Under the tag “Being a Writer,” teachers can find articles, lists of teacher communities, and links to publications to submit their work. (4) A new book recommended by the NWP is Coaching Teacher-Writers: Practical Steps to Nurture Professional Writing. The book guides teachers from idea to draft to finished work, touches on considerations of writers’ craft and habit, and suggests publishing various venues. (5)
 
Children’s author and former sixth-grade English teacher Kate Messner has also written several professional books about writing. Her most recent book, 59 Reasons to Write, provides mini-lessons, writing prompts, and plenty of motivation and encouragement for teachers and librarians who want to become the writers they wish to create in their students. (6) The book was inspired by Messner’s popular Teachers Write program, a free online summer writing camp for teachers. (7)
 
Do you do the work you ask your students to do? The answer might not always be a yes, but it’s important that our students see us work through the writing process, share the messy first drafts and polished pieces, and make time for writing with them.
 
As one student said, “It really makes me believe and work harder. If your teacher can do it, so can you.”

For Further Reading
​ 
Rebecca Alber, “Do You Write with Your Students?” Edutopia. February 6, 2012; online at https://www.edutopia.org/blog/writing-students-literacy-rebecca-alber.
 
Charles Whitaker, “Best Practices in Teaching Writing,” Annenberg Foundation, 2004; online at https://www.learner.org/workshops/middlewriting/images/pdf/HomeBestPrac.pdf.

​"One Book to Connect the World." That's the motto of the Global Read Aloud which kicks-off this week. The project, started by Wisconsin teacher Pernille Ripp, aims as connecting students around great literature.

Classrooms sign up to read one of five different books or author studies. This year's choices are: 

Author Study

• Peter H. Reynolds

Book Choices

• The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane by Kate DiCamillo
• The Fourteenth Goldfish by Jennifer L. Holm
• One For the Murphy's by Lyndy Mullaly Hunt
• The Fault in Our Stars by John Green

My class participated last year for the first time and read Out of My Mind by Sharon Draper. We blogged our thoughts on Kidblog (our blog link) and connected with several 5th grade classes at Mars Centennial School in Pennsylvania to write and Skype. It was fabulous!
​

I am planning to see The Giver this week and I'm excited. I loved Lois Lowry's ground-breaking novel and am curious how it will make the leap from page to screen.
​
A few years ago, I took a class on Children's Literature and Film because I was interested in how the two mediums connect. 

Before that course, I was of the opinion that the worth of a film based on a book was solely determined by how accurately it mirrored the book. If it deviated more than the slightest bit, changed characters or plot points, it was BAD. 

Ok, now some movies based on books do turn out badly (I still am so disappointed by The Lightning Thief) but I've changed my criteria for judging. Does the film honor the spirit of the book? Are the changes made necessary because film is a visual medium and elements need to be handled differently? It makes a difference. I have to admit, I loved the Harry Potter movies and they weren't always faithful to the text of the books. Plot points changed and, in my opinion, some of the best characters never even made it into the films (sorry Peeves).

February 5, 2014 is Digital Learning Day.  Sponsored by the Alliance for Excellent Education, Digital Learning Day is a celebration of how effective application of digital tools and resources can make a positive impact on student learning.

In thinking about how to celebrate the day in my classroom, I realized that true digital learning is less about one-off activities, but rather about changing the culture of how technology can be used to impact learning.  

So what did we do? Actually, it was a pretty typical day. My students participated in the NaNoWriMo Young Writers Program in November and wrote a novel of at least 4,000 words. We put our stories to rest in December and last week, pulled them back out to start the work of revision.  

Last week, they did a full read-through of their work using a cool text-to-speech Chrome extension called Read and Write for Google. Once installed, it drops a toolbar in Google Docs that allows students to have their work read to them with sentence level highlighting. While listening, they marked places they thought lacked detail or needed work.

The recent ISACS Conference was a great chance to learn new ideas and think about how teaching and learning has changed in the 21st century. One of the new mantras in education is the importance of nurturing creativity and innovation in both teachers and students. Bloom's Taxonomy was revised in 2000 to include "Creating" as one of the higher order domains of learning (check out this chart and this adaption by tech integration leader Kathy Schrock). Daniel Pink's keynote address touched on the fact that motivation (and creativity) is increased when people are given the time to explore new ideas and the choice of how to express their thoughts. Here's a great video from RSA Animate that restates some of the points he made in his keynote.

I think all of us want to be more creative and want to encourage creativity in our students. I went to a session on teaching creative thinking that I found a bit disappointing because I wanted tools for improving the creative process in students. The session focused more on how students that are naturally creative think and how assignment structures can sometimes limit creativity. Having that information is useful, but practical tools are what most teachers are looking for and need to make change in their teaching.

​I think the idea of time is really important. How can you be creative when you have a million things to do already and not enough time? I recently read an article that discussed how Mark Zuckerberg wears the same grey t-shirt and jeans every day. He literally has a drawer of 20 of the same shirt. Think about Steve Jobs and his iconic black turtleneck. It's not necessarily that these men had no fashion interest or creativity. They just chose to focus their attention elsewhere. Five minutes saved choosing clothing equals five minutes applied to thinking of new ideas or about things that do interest you. 

I loved Daniel Pink's idea of "Fed Ex Days" for teachers and students. Google tried to make innovation part of its culture by doing something like this and many of its best products came out of their Labs, which  are projects started by employees "just for fun." See here for more on Google's philosophy.

I plan to incorporate my own version of a "Fed Ex" day with my students sometime in the near future. Teacher Josh Stumpenhorst, who Daniel Pink mentioned in his keynote address, called them "Innovation Days" with his 6th graders.  In my class, I plan to tell students that they will have some time (a period or perhaps more) to work on something related to our subject but they will need to share with me and the class a product.  Will they choose to write a story or poem? Build a web page on a favorite book?  Who knows, but I'm curious to see what will happen. When people are allowed to pursue their interests and talents, sometimes interesting and unexpected things can happen.

I had one of those moments this weekend that makes you stop and think about how much times have changed. Our last day of classes was Wednesday, and as I've sat at home grading papers and projects this weekend I realize that in many ways the school year hasn't ended. I've had numerous emails from students and parents asking about summer reading and I've emailed some of them about other issues.

Here's an example... My students finished a book trailer project last Friday, but because I was out of town for a family wedding, I am just now looking at what was submitted.  They are great and I will be posting some of them in the coming days, but for some reason, a few students' projects were not submitted. Additionally, two other students turned in videos that appeared cut short, perhaps due to some network glitch while they were uploading.   In the past, if this had been a lab-based project, I would have to decide whether to grade on work I saw done during the process or take off points.  Now that our tools have moved to the cloud, this is what I did.

I emailed the parents of each student and wrote that I was missing their child's video. I asked if the child could download the project again from Animoto.com (the video-creation site we used) and resubmit it to me in Google Docs for grading. I sent those messages out on Saturday afternoon. Here's one of the email messages from the parents that struck me the most:

I recently had an epiphany about the issue of copyright as it applies to media literacy and teaching.  Until recently, I was an educator that was blissfully ignorant about copyright issues when assigning student projects and in my own media use for the classroom.  If I needed an image for a handout or classroom web page, I Googled what I wanted and inserted it.  If my students did a poster project, I made no stipulations about what kind of images could be used or that they keep track of their sources.  In contrast, with writing assignments I pounded in my warning about plagiarism and the need to cite sources.  But for other media, it wasn't that I turned a blind eye.  I just didn't think about it.

About two years ago, I took a graduate course where the professor brought up the issue of copyright and digital citizenship.  We had an assignment to create a digital story to teach a concept to be used in our curriculum and I decided to create a book trailer.  As we learned about the requirements of the project, we had a discussion of copyright.  I realized, as did several other educators in my cohort, that in our personal and professional uses of technology we weren't always modeling the digital citizenship qualities we wanted our students to learn.  This is where I first learned about Creative Commons licensing, how to find free images and music that were copyright-free or friendly and began a new campaign in my classroom to teach copyright awareness to my students.