This coming week, I get the opportunity to launch a reading intervention with four seventh and eighth grade students. The opportunity came about as a result of working with Amy Thacher, our amazing Literacy Coach from Great Prairie AEA. I have had the privilege of working with Amy for many, many years and always walk away from conversations with her having learned something new.
Amy and I have been working with a teacher in our junior/senior high building, who is set to provide literacy interventions for struggling students. We have a solid infrastructure for an MTSS system, but are still working to effectively implement the system at all three tiers of instruction.
As we finally (yes, it’s January) get interventions up and running for an identified group of students with our interventionist, schedules were such that the interventionist wouldn’t be able to meet with four of the students. This is where I come in: the stars aligned and I found a time in my schedule that would work with the students’ schedules. Let the work begin!
Confessions
I am nervous as hell. I am questioning so many things, including my ability to have an impact on literacy outcomes for these students. Despite the immense amount of time I dedicate to learning about the science of reading and the science of learning, I don’t have many opportunities to directly implement all that I learn. I support teachers with implementation, but as an instructional coach, I don’t work with groups of students for sustained amounts of time.
As the article Misunderstandings of the Science of Reading, by Sharon Vaughn and Nathan Clemens, in the September/October issue of The Reading League Journal reminds us, “…the science of reading is not a program or pedagogy…” but “…Some programs are better aligned with the science of reading…” As such, we have chosen to use an “aligned” program with this struggling group of adolescent learners. It is a vetted program, yet I am not sure it is appropriate for students of this age. These students have foundational skills gaps and our program of choice is a systematic and explicit phonics program used to teach foundational literacy skills. However, I worry that the materials may appear to “kiddish” for these struggling adolescents.
Unfortunately, I have limited experience with effective intervention programs for adolescent learners. There are many options out there, but this hasn’t been an area of concentration in our district, yet. The Reading League’s Adolescent Literacy section of The Compass is a terrific resource for those wanting to know more. I do.
Doubts
My confessions and doubts overlap as I prepare to implement this intervention. As mentioned above, I’m doubting the correct selection of a program. In addition, I not only doubt, but know, that one person is not enough to change the trajectory for these four students. I can certainly have a positive impact, but one sole educator does not get the job done. Changing literacy outcomes/achieving high levels of learning for all students, requires a robust system. We aren’t there, yet.
When I was in the classroom, I always prided myself on my ability to form relationships with students and their families. What if I am unable to form meaningful connections with this group of students? They aren’t going to be thrilled to be part of this intervention group – do I have the skill to develop relationships with (frustrated) adolescents, who each have poor attendance records? Do I have the skill to convince them of the importance of this intervention and the impact it will have on their lives inside and outside of school?
Can I firmly, succinctly, and convincingly explain that no matter the age of the struggling reader, a scope and sequence that focuses on phonics skills is a key ingredient to acquiring literacy? Can I sustain their interest during each session? Will I provide timely corrective and positive feedback? Will I know how and when to adjust instruction? Will the data show that the intervention “worked?”
This is Where the Rubber Meets the Road
Essentially, this opportunity is a testament to the phrase, “This is where the rubber meets the road.” As an instructional coach, I spend much of my time learning about, talking about, and supporting teachers with effective instruction. I now have the privilege of “walking the walk.”
I often feel that I lack credibility with many of the teachers I support. Either I have “been out of the classroom for too long,” or I “don’t know the content area,” or I “don’t know what it is like to teach this age group.” The list is probably much longer. Although I work hard to avoid concerning myself with the opinions of others, those opinions do impact how I am “received” by many teachers. And relationships with colleagues are as critical as relationships with students.
I am 100% confident that, despite my doubts, running this intervention will have a positive impact and will certainly NOT harm these students. The rewards (stronger foundational literacy skills, improved fluency, improved comprehension, new relationships, new opportunities) far outweigh the “risks” (the intervention program of choice may not be the perfect fit, student frustration about 30-minute removal from a non-core, and possibly more preferred class).
In addition to increasing student learning for this small group of students, this opportunity will impact my own learning… which will impact my ability to better-support my teaching colleagues… which will achieve the ultimate goal of instructional coaching: high levels of learning for all students. I am bound to make mistakes, but in the words of Jason Kennedy, “…If you aren’t making mistakes, you aren’t getting better.”
Adults in schools,
Hot take:
If you aren’t making mistakes, you aren’t getting better.As a leader
As a teacher
As a learner— Jason Kennedy | Stop Teaching & Design Learning! (@letsquitteachin) January 14, 2025
If you don’t already follow Jason Kennedy, author of Let’s Stop Teaching and Start Designing Learning, make sure you do so. You won’t regret it. His near-daily words of inspiration are so darn practical, and are always the pick-me-up that I often need.
