Slice of Life 2024: 7 of 31- A new genre of writing for me

It's March, and March is for slicing.  Anyone is welcome to join us through Two Writing Teachers, slicing, sharing, and commenting on other slices! 

  

I had never met M. until this morning, and meeting a student for the first time when you have to administer a writing assessment is rarely an optimal time for building a positive relationship. 

M. was doing what he could to build a somewhat negative one with me before 9 on a rainy morning. First, his computer was dead. Touch to work on a writing piece when you're a fifth-grader in our district these days since almost all assignments are digital. Fortunately, I had some paper and a pencil with me, even though we were in the cafeteria, so I could provide a low-tech alternative. 

As M. wrote, he managed to sustain several conversations with other students. Somehow he was able to complete the task, but most of the others were not as adept at multi-tasking. I asked him to move his seat several times. (Fortunately, a school cafeteria at a non-lunch hour offers many seating choices.) While he was compliant, his sloth-like pace and funny-if-you're- a-peer-but-not-if-you're-a-teacher comments were subtly disruptive. 

I decided to take the relationship-building approach, especially when I read his writing. His writing, although rushed and provocatively negative, was effective and impactful. My compliment of his skills was genuine. 

"What do you like to do outside of school?" I asked. 

"Fortnight."

I tried to hide my eyeroll. Of course he did. I also tried to hide my assumptions about his expensive crocs, his logo t-shirt, and the phone case I could see in his pocket. But I was making some assumptions. 

"What else do you like to do?"

"Call of Duty." 

I debated my follow-up question, but what the heck. I'd build this relationship. "Why?" I asked. 

"It's a war game. I like to kill people." 

Okay, and now where was I going to go with this conversation? He was smart enough to be interested in what my response would be... and I was grappling over my response and direction.  I'd change the subject. Maybe he had a younger sibling who could take this conversation in a different direction. "Do you have brothers or sisters?" I asked. 

He hesitated. "Six," he said. "No, ten."

Should I believe him? I went along with it. "Where do you fall in the mix?"

"Youngest." 

I asked about the name of his oldest sibling, and the name changed twice, and then he couldn't tell me where she lived or exactly how old she was. But he didn't seem like he was lying. I was confused. 

"Can I go?" he asked. "I'm done with my writing."

I could have said yes, since technically he had completed the writing task. I could have asked him to do a few revisions, correct a few conventions, maybe even add a section, but I had the information I needed. M. could write. Part of me wanted to know more about him, though, especially if he really had that many siblings. 

"How about you write a paragraph about your house?" I asked. 

He rolled his eyes but sat back down to write, and I texted his teacher. She texted right back, confirming that there really are ten kids in his family, that it's an adoptive or foster family, and that it's a sad story. 

M. let me read his description of his house, and I later learned more about the brother he wrote about who lives in the basement and has been involved in several incidents. M. has had so much trauma. 

His writing impressed me, and I said so. 

"Have you ever written songs?" I asked. "Do you like music?"

"I like rap," he said. 

Again, I found myself wondering if M. was for real, but I'm going along with it. I'll be researching how to teach a 10 year-old about writing rap in the next few days. A new genre of writing for me, but maybe a way to connect with a kid who can use all the connections he can get.