by Destiny Dungey, Anastasia Gustafson, Molly Snyder, and Sarah Hochstetler
Why do you write? Who do you write for? These questions are central to the inquiry work we take up as emerging and practicing teachers of diverse writers in a secondary ELA methods course. We wrestle with what counts as writing, how we claim in ourselves and cultivate in students a writerly identity, and who gets to make those determinations as we collectively navigate literacy learning in this tenuous moment. Part of the task of being and becoming writers is looking for and honoring the role of writing in our daily lives. This effort to name the acts of composing often lost in the hum of living is part of why observing the National Day on Writing (NDOW) each year feels urgent to us and why we want to call in other educators to celebrate with us. In joining together as a community of teachers who value writing, we can model for students ways we take up writing, in all its messiness, to initiate change, amplify ideas, and demonstrate the power of words.
#NDOW
The National Day on Writing was established in 2009 by the National Council of Teachers of English to “draw attention to the remarkable variety of writing Americans engage in and to help make writers from all walks of life aware of their craft.” Each year on October 20th, we’re encouraged “to share […] knowledge about writing, organize participating groups in our schools and/or communities, and transform the public’s understanding of writing and the role it plays in society today.” We write about what matters most to us and, in most cases, the things that matter most can be found outside of school. In this way, the NDOW can serve as a bridge between the composing practices beyond the walls of the classroom and what we foster with students in formal learning spaces. The NDOW can highlight what we often call “writing for authentic purposes and audiences,” meaning, crafting words that hold meaning to the writer for readers of their choosing. We see in NDOW an opportunity to make real for our students how writing functions outside of the “schoolish.” Indeed, why we write and who we write for is worth recognizing and exploring.
Celebrating Writing as Teacher Candidates
Each new academic year in the writing methods course at Illinois State University begins with attention to imagining possibilities for NDOW, among other tasks. Since we began participating some years ago, we felt it important to plan two events: one inward-facing professional learning opportunity for our program colleagues who are preparing to be secondary ELA teachers alongside us, and a separate outward-facing event for the public. These two events are tailored to the needs of the intended audience with attention to shared learning within our discipline-specific teacher education program and a more global approach to appreciating writing with others on campus.
We’ve asked faculty, staff, and students to join us for fun in a “writer’s playground” and, when we were learning online last year, we hosted a Twitter slow chat using the theme of “masquerade” to engage participants.
Cooking Up Stories
This year, for Fall 2021’s celebration, we have pivoted away from an inservice and toward growing community with colleagues through a collaborative story-driven cookbook, the Why I Cook: (Book). Our aim was to celebrate cooking and the writings that accompany those experiences as a way to bolster connections between cohorts in our program. In the absence of face-to-face learning opportunities since the start of the pandemic, it felt important for us to be present with each other in our current in-person model by linking our lives through food and story with an audience some of us had only interacted with through screens until now.
The benefits to the recipes in our book are clear: now we have inspiration to try a new meal or snack or dessert vetted by our colleagues. More importantly, however, is how the companion narratives proffer a space to offer more depth not only to the recipes, but our colleague authors. In his recipe titled, Molotes de Tinga, teacher candidate Junior Sanchez writes, “Even though I am an American born citizen, I spent half of my childhood in Mexico. This means my childhood experience was unique in itself; I was able to become fluent in reading, writing, and speaking Spanish. More importantly, I learned about my ‘cultura’ and about my people. Molotes de tinga are a warm reminder of where I am from, the people that I value and love, and my pride for being a first generation Latino.” To Junior, this recipe is more than just directions on a page; his work is an extension of his own unique identity. To share this kind of writing means that the author is also sharing a bit of themselves. In the end, this text-type is equal parts community-building and a space for culinary inspiration.
Further, the concept of publishing a collaborative cookbook with storytelling components offers us an authentic opportunity to write. When we cultivate an opportunity to share writing that is both meaningful and useful to others, we provide writers with a space that dignifies and solidifies the importance of writing. By sharing companion narratives alongside our recipes, we are able to find ways to exchange and read about relevant components of colleagues’ lives. Writing, in this context, extends beyond a mechanical, standardized process and becomes intrinsically more human, a framing that is critical to socially just ELA instruction.
Tell Us, Why Do You Write?
The public piece to this year’s celebration is simple but the outcomes thus far have been profound. With so much energy going into soliciting recipes, editing each other’s companion writing pieces, and uploading materials into a cookbook template, we wanted the outward-facing event to be easier for us to manage while maintaining our goal of honoring the regular writing in our lives. It also felt important for us to take into account the world we are living in at this time, and how certain events, such as in-person, “come and write your thoughts on paper” activities might not draw in the number of participants that a virtual event would. During the pandemic, both as teachers and students, we have learned how using technology to circulate information and receive responses in all formats works to our advantage and is beneficial for all parties in opening access to many. Like with the cookbook idea, we brainstormed possibilities together, narrowed the scope of ideas, voted through an online polling tool, and agreed to launch a website featuring answers to the questions, “why do I write” and “who do I write for?”
After being in isolation for a year and half, we’re finding it especially meaningful to be in community with a large group of people, even if virtually. This means sharing our thinking about writing with not only those in our academic program but sharing it with the people we care about outside of school. We thought it would be ideal to use this event to bring together people from across the state and even the country to celebrate the power of writing.
While we’re still gathering samples of original writing and brief comments in response to our two questions through an online form, we’re struck by the beauty in what others have offered. Writing is a safe space for some, a location for dreaming and capturing private thoughts. For others, writing is mandated and cold–led by teachers who push the production of uninspired prose. As educators, we have a responsibility to make visible the joy in writing. Choice and voice can enable that process.
Our Key Takeaways
When submitting writing for the cookbook and asking others to respond to why they write and who they write for, we noticed that some people were reluctant to submit their artifacts. After talking together, we found that a few of our colleagues and those who shared their thinking for the website didn’t consider their work “good enough” for publication. In the website submissions, specifically, we’re noticing the clear disconnect between writing for school and writing for life. Students don’t enjoy being “forced” to write about things that don’t interest them. Invitations to composing like creating a cookbook or gathering a few sentences about our motivations for writing can show students and others in our circles how writing has impacted the lives of those around us in a supportive and, for some, low-stakes space like a website or small group cookbook.
Our program values making connections with students between learning in school and life outside of school, which includes advocating for our students to have opportunities for authentic writing. For those still in school, celebrating the National Day on Writing allows students a chance to think about and make meaning of how writing is implemented in their life outside of classrooms. Creating authentic spaces like a cookbook or website can shift the power away from teachers and to the people who don’t feel like they are writers. For those not in school, perhaps NDOW is an occasion where people can celebrate their half-baked writerly ideas and acknowledge people who enjoy writing but aren’t writing the next great American novel.
Final Thoughts
We hope that this work we are doing together in our class may serve as a model of how we can encourage students and others to not only share their writing publicly with those they care about but also invite them into honoring the role of writing in their lives. The NDOW acts as a place for students to experience writing as something that can be both constructive and dignified outside of the classroom. If inviting students into authentic writing opportunities interests you, facilitating a National Day on Writing celebration in collaboration with students is a strong way to begin the work of enacting socially just ELA instruction which serves to open opportunities for all students to learn. We understand writing as a form of activism and part of the work teachers and students take up when planning into National Day on Writing is getting people comfortable with the idea that they are writers and they do have the power to use their voice to express themselves. We hope you’ll join us as we practice authentic writing with our colleagues, students, and others as we endeavor to celebrate the role of writing in our lives as individuals and in community.
Authors’ Note: We’d be delighted if you’d consider sharing your thoughts about writing for our “Why Do You Write” website. More information available here; submissions accepted through 10/22/21.
***
Destiny Dungey is a senior Secondary English Education major at Illinois State University. She enjoys collaborating with her colleagues in a variety of events such as the NCTE African American Read-In and the fall 2021 NCTE Annual Convention so that she can further her learning of socially just ELA.
Anastasia Gustafson is a senior English Education major at Illinois State University. She will graduate with triple teaching endorsements in High School English, Middle School English, and K-12 Visual Arts in the Spring of 2022. She writes for the school paper, The Vidette, as a news reporter and blogger. In her free time, she writes and illustrates for her graphic novel, Apricity.
Molly Snyder is a senior at Illinois State University where she is pursuing her bachelor’s degree in Secondary English Education with an endorsement in Middle Level ELA. She enjoys journaling and hopes that by instilling her love for writing in her own students and classroom, they can learn to love it as well outside of the classroom walls. She will graduate in the Spring of 2022.
Sarah Hochstetler is Professor of English Education at Illinois State University. A former secondary ELA teacher, Dr. Hochstetler writes with teacher candidate colleagues to demonstrate the power of words and the critical role of everyday advocacy in literacy education.
Enjoyed reading this post! Thanks! I am interested in student agency and authentic voice in writing.
Thanks for reading and commenting, Erica! We appreciate the support!