Narrative feedback

Recently, an American educator told me that she heard from a friend who taught here in a premier junior college that Singaporean teachers don't care to give feedback when they mark. They are only concerned with grammatical mistakes, he said.

I don't know if that's true of the whole system, but in the primary schools and to a large extent the secondary schools, marks are what count for teachers, students and parents. This is sad because a mark does not tell us enough what is good or not so good about a piece of writing. And if teachers say it's easier to give a mark than comments, I would beg to differ. Have we not, at one time or another, been caught in this great dilemma of how many marks to give? 5, 5.5 or 6? And what is the difference between these marks?

It is really time to give more attention to giving quality feedback instead of marks. Watch this video about narrative feedback, which is more than just giving comments, and see if there's a way we can adopt this idea for our marking.

How narrative feedback can crush the ABCs - South Euclid, OH, United States, ASCD EDge Blog post

Walking down the tracks of time

In the late 1970s, I was one of the many Malaysians who came to Singapore in search of a new life. Like many of them, I too came by train through the Tanjong Pagar Railway Station. So when it closed recently, I did feel a sense of regret.

In those days, I travelled by train frequently and although I did sometimes drive, my husband felt it was safer for me to travel by train, especially when I was travelling alone. My family and friends came to visit me by train and I still remember the anxiety and the excitement among the waiting crowd when the train appeared around the corner, very often behind schedule. Going home was another anxious event especially getting past the less-than-friendly Malaysian customs officers. But still, taking the train was better than the bus in those days when luxury coaches and superhighways were non-existent. 

But from way back in my childhood, trains were a part of my life. I went to school in Sentul which was where the largest railway workshop in Malaysia was situated. The railway track was about 300 metres behind my house and I spent a lot of time playing on the tracks. On school days, I’d walk to and from school with Roziah Sultan, my best friend then, and part of the journey was along the railway track. The nicest part about the walk was the railway creepers with their lovely pink flowers.  Some days, the train would pass, and we would wait behind the railway gates, staring up at the people in the train and wondering where they were going.

When I started travelling to university, I was able to take the commuter train from a train stop behind my house to the main railway station in town where I caught a bus to the campus in Pantai Valley. Near my home, a road, Ipoh Road, crosses the railway line creating a tunnel below. My brother and his Boy Brigade friends spent many a weekend practising their bugle playing in that tunnel. They weren’t the finest musicians so the tunnel was the best place to practise improving their lung power.  Not far from this tunnel was a railway bridge which spanned the Batu River. My siblings and I spent many a mischievous day there, crossing the river on the railway track. That was not really a safe thing to do; one misstep and we would be in the fast flowing waters of the river, but we were young and foolish then. Sometimes a train would appear unexpectedly and we would have to step off the track and cling on to the side of the bridge while the train roared past us.  When there was no train, we would practise balancing on the tracks (pretending to be ballerinas or tightrope walkers) and pick wild rhododendrons and grass flowers for our home.  On the odd occasion when the neighbourhood crazy man appeared on the track, exposing various parts of his emaciated body, we would throw stones at him. I don’t ever remember being afraid of anyone or anything in those days.

Today the railway workshop has been replaced by The Kuala Lumpur Performing Arts Centre (KLPac) and Sentul West looks a lot like Singapore with its Singapore-styled condominiums. The old golf course, built for the managerial and administrative staff of the railway workshop, is still there but that part of Sentul is no longer the working class neighbourhood it used to be. Our family home has gone too but my sister still lives nearby and the trains run a road away past the front of her house. The railway track is now electrified and fenced up. Whenever I visit my sister, I still hear trains roaring past at odd hours of the day and night.

I was recalling these and other events from my childhood when I took a walk with my husband along the old railway track from Silat Walk to Bukit Merah Central last week. The walk brought back many memories; a railway track is somewhat the same no matter which country we are in. Here are some photos from our walk.

We began at Silat Walk and many people were already there, taking pictures and just looking around. 

The track into the station has been cordoned off already so we could only walk westwards.

One of the several bridges we went under. Many glue sniffers frequented these places judging from the empty tubes and tins.

A sign reminding train drivers to check their brakes. Good to know that they take their job seriously.

Wild rhododendrons and other wildflowers along the track.

Making a “phone call”.

There was even a romantic message!

The sun was shining in my eyes as we walked westwards, but when I lifted my eyes and looked out from under the brim of my Tilly hat, I saw an amazing sight- sunlight shining on some grass flowers, turning them into bouquets of burnished gold. Wordsworth can keep his daffodils! This was so breathtaking.

We should all support the proposal to turn this railway line into a green rail corridor. It will be a wonderful place for the young to explore and to enjoy. 

Learning to write from real books in the Stellar Programme (Part 2)

Last week, I wrote about helping pupils to understand and learn about story structure from Owl Babies.  Apart from the story structure, there are other useful details that pupils can learn from the story about writing.  Owl Babies provides a good example of how to use dialogues.

 Let me begin by compiling the dialogues by each of the owl babies.  

“Where’s Mummy?” asked Sarah
“I think she’s gone hunting,” said Sarah
“She’ll be back,” said Sarah
“She’ll bring us mice and things that are nice,” said Sarah
“I think we should all sit on my branch,” said Sarah
“Suppose she got lost,” said Sarah
“I knew it,” said Sarah

“Oh my goodness!” said Percy
“To get us some food,” said Percy
“Back soon!” said Percy
“I suppose so,” said Percy
“Or a fox got her,” said Percy
“And I knew it,” said Percy

“I want my mummy!” said Bill
“I want my mummy!” said Bill
“I want my mummy!” said Bill
“I want my mummy!” said Bill
“I want my mummy!” said Bill
“I love my mummy!” said Bill

Looking at these dialogues, you can tell that Sarah is the oldest baby owl and that she called the shots most of the time. Percy supported her by echoing her views or reinforcing them. Bill is clearly the baby who says the same thing all the time except at the end. The dialogues tell us more about the characters which the story does not. Choosing the right dialogue for each character helps the development of the character and the plot of the story. Bill’s last statement tells us indirectly what they have learnt from the whole episode- that they love their mummy.

Once children understand this, help them to craft some short dialogues to flesh out their characters and the storyline.  Try to make the dialogue realistic; avoid stilted expressions like “Oh my goodness” which many young people don’t use. Repetition, like Bill’s constant “I want my mummy” can be quite effective too.

Another valuable lesson from the book is the use of descriptions and of showing not telling. For instance, the author described their hole as one with “twigs, leaves and owl feathers”. You can infer from these details that the hole wasn’t a mere hole; it was a comfortable home. Here are more questions to help pupils see how the author shows emotions and actions.

·         When they woke up and found their mother gone, how did they feel?

·         How did the author show this instead of telling you they were worried?  

·         Later, which part of the baby owls’ actions told you they were getting anxious?

·         Why did Sarah say that they should all sit on her branch instead of on separate branches?

·         Why did the baby owls close their eyes?

·         And when their mother returned, how did you know they were happy?

All these questions help pupils to see that showing helps the readers to be more engaged with the story than telling. Merely saying the owls were happy has less of an impact than

“Mummy!” they cried, and they flapped and they danced, and they bounced up and down on their branch.

So, going back to our original plans, how can they show the happy kittens? What would the relieved Nadera say or do when she found her mother? Once pupils are able to write some short dialogues, these can be incorporated into the actual story.

Now using plan B, I can help pupils to craft a story following the structure of the book and the sentence patterns used in the book. For the introduction, I could write:

Characters and Setting	Once, there were two baby kittens: Kitty and Percy. They lived in a basket in a garden shed with their Cat Mother. The basket was made of straw. It had soft rags in it. It was their house. (Note: Encourage pupils to add details to make the descriptions vivid)
Problem	One afternoon, they came home from playing in the garden and found Cat Mother GONE. “Where’s mum?” asked Kitty. “ Mummy, mummy!” said Percy. (Note: I left out “Oh my goodness” because in my world, kittens don’t talk like that.)

The story can now be further developed following the plan we’ve made. It’s always easier to write a first draft and then revise it to include dialogue and descriptions.  There can be variations made to parts of the story; don’t be afraid to improvise. Pupils can have many interesting ideas; for example, they may suggest changes to some of the dialogue. Finally, they can also write a conclusion that parallels that in the original story.

Following the joint construction of the first story, pupils are now ready to write their own individual parallel version. They can choose any of the plans you have brainstormed earlier. Weaker pupils can be encouraged to write in pairs, but they all follow the model that is given. Again, emphasise the planning first.

What I have suggested here can fill several lessons, and they are meant for a series of lessons not just one. Pupils can also be taught with different books but using the same approach. For instance, I can deconstruct any storybook once I know how to do that. I can also explore the use of dialogue with any other story, so this need not all be taught with Owl Babies.

As a teacher, I need to be able to pull out what is useful in a story for my pupils to emulate. Every story presents interesting story elements that can be studied. These in turn can be recycled into pupils’ writing. Try not to teach too many things in one lesson.  After you’ve done a draft of the story, use another lesson to revise and add dialogue to the story. You don’t need a lot of dialogue. A few lines may suffice for these young writers.

I understand that some of you may think this is too difficult for P2 pupils. Well, you decide. I know many P2 pupils who are ready for this. And if they are not, wait for another year or so.