I’ve been working in a classroom where writing time has been a bit tricky. “They start squirming when they see writing is next on the schedule!” the classroom teacher exclaimed. We’ve been working together to try and change that, helping the students to find joy in the writing process. Our work has gone “off script” at times, but it has been in direct response to what we see these students need.

We’ve been doing some shared writing, modeling, and giving the students plenty of chances to orally rehearse- to have the opportunity to feel like storytellers. We’ve tried partner revisions and goal setting. There have been plenty of small celebrations along the way.

Last week, Leon hung back on the rug as we invited students to transfer the elaboration work we had tried in our class story into their own writing. I invited him to tell his story of the day he was making breakfast with his dad. His page read, “We were making eggs.” Leon didn’t accept my invitation. Instead, I watched him looking at the anchor chart I had whipped up a few days earlier. Was he even paying attention? I wondered as he seemed to stare into space.

He started muttering to himself, “I can try all four on one page.”

I looked at the chart: four ways to bring your character to life- talking, thinking, action, and feelings. Maybe he was listening. I got busy working with another student still on the rug, but I peeked at Leon every few minutes. He seemed to be writing. I would count that as a win for the day.

The classroom teacher and I did a quick check-in with each other and announced, “Two more minutes to finish up what you’re working on and come to a good stopping place in your writing. Then we will share.”

Leon looked up from his paper. “I think I did it,” he said, a sly smile on his face.

“Let me hear it,” I said.

Leon read me his writing, a page filled with voice and meaning-a sharp contrast from “We were making eggs.”

Leon and I celebrated how his writing had grown in just one writing session. “I think you’re the kind of writer ready to try adding that much detail to all of your pages!” I said.

I quickly connected with the teacher and told her that I wanted to highlight Leon’s work during the class share. As the class gathered back on the rug, I invited Leon to join me by the easel. “You have to hear this!” I said to the class. “This is an example of the power of revision.” We went on to read Leon’s before and after versions of his story. We really hammed it up and had the kids feeling so proud of Leon and the work he had done that day.

As the class lined up for lunch, I patted Leon on the back and told him again how his hard work had really paid off. “Should we write your parents a note?” I asked recognizing (and hoping) that this might be a pivotal moment in Leon’s writing life.

I jotted a quick note on a post-it and gave it to Leon to put in his backpack.

Last night, his teacher sent me this message:

Not all of the parts of our day are this inspiring. But it is these moments that keep me coming back for more.