Teach like a champion 3.0: 63 techniques that put students on the path to college - Lemov Doug 2021

Technique 18: Format matters
Academic ethos

There is no one right way to speak a language, especially one as polyglot and complex as English. This is manifested in the fact that nearly every speaker of English is in fact a speaker of “Englishes,” using different versions of the language depending on the setting: at work versus with friends or family, for example. Let me state directly, then: there is beauty and value in everyone's voice and in all our different ways of speaking.

Yet at the same time teachers have a special responsibility no one else in society has. We are tasked with developing students' mastery of a particular English.

It is the version of English in which almost every article, scientific study, legal brief, or memo is written. It is used before the court of appeals, in presentations to the board, among physicians during rounds.

Call it Standard English if you like. Some people don't like that name, but we have to call it something and the fact is that there is a vernacular your students must master if they are to be prepared to participate fully and equitably in civic and economic life.

It may anger you to know that someone might prejudge your students' ideas because they were not communicated in Standard English; perhaps you'd rather argue against accepting a standard form,³ but as teachers we must put those feelings aside. Or feel both things: love for our students and their forms of expression and also embrace the responsibility of ensuring that they are prepared to speak the language of the professions with fluency. School is the institution that provides students with the opportunity to master those language forms. If it does not, then full access to opportunity will accrue only to those whom privilege or happenstance prefers.⁴

“Pretending that gatekeeping points don't exist is to ensure that many students will not pass through them,” Lisa Delpit writes. “To imply to children or adults that it doesn't matter how you talk or how you write is to ensure their ultimate failure.”⁵

Delpit calls language a “game,” with rules students must learn to play by. I might opt to call it a convention,⁶ one that we inherit and that changes more slowly than society,⁷ but whatever you call it, we have a responsibility to prepare students to master it. As the teacher and writer Jasmine Lane observes, “School is a place of preparation, a place where you learn the codes of the mainstream not necessarily because the mainstream is better … but because if you want to make significant changes to any systems, you have to be able to first get in by the gatekeepers' standards.”⁸

Some people worry that this will cause students to feel like they or their own forms of language are somehow inferior, but why assume that? Would you presume as much about yourself? If you moved to England (or if you are English, if you moved to the United States), you would start speaking differently in certain public settings; do you imagine that you would lose your sense of identity and self-worth? I suspect you would remain very much you despite adapting your language habits in some settings. Our students are strong; why think them less capable than ourselves of making language choices without a loss of identity? If you are worried that some might feel their own language implicitly undervalued, it is certainly something you can address as a teacher. Writing about her own experience in school, Lane observes that she never felt learning to use language differently was a rejection of who she was, “I just needed someone to explicitly teach me the importance of both [ways of using language].”

Our job, in other words, is to teach students—with sensitivity, nuance, and judgment—to master Standard English. For some, our classrooms may be their only chance to learn it. And the best way to do this is to build verbal and written habits. When we are in the classroom we shift to a mode of discourse that ensures consistent and sustained exposure to the standard form so that all students will be able to use it naturally and effortlessly.⁹

I'll begin by describing the what of Format Matters, but I'll also discuss the how—an issue that is equally important.

There are four specific actions I think teachers can take within Format Matters:

1. Grammatical format involves asking students to phrase (or rephrase) their answers in Standard English.

2. Complete sentence format involves asking students to expand answers into full phrases or complete sentences to ensure they get extensive oral practice at sentence and complex syntax formation.

3. Audible format involves reminding students to speak audibly. The value of students' ideas is undercut if no one can hear them.

4. Finally I propose an idea called Collegiate format. Informed by Basil Bernstein's research on elaborated code, the idea is to prepare students for some of the particular demands of college and university by pushing for comfort not just with “Standard English” but the form of language, more formal and distinctive still, frequently encountered in an academic setting.

Grammatical Format

When students make grammatical errors (that is, variations from Standard) in class, they are often unconscious of them. Our goal should be to help them to hear when this happens and know how to correct the errors.¹⁰ They will be able to assess them themselves. And we want them to build habits so that when they are in the classroom Standard English comes to them naturally. An understanding of working memory tells us that if students have to consciously translate while they are speaking, the effort required to do so will interfere with other uses for working memory. We want our students to not have to use up scarce working memory thinking about how to say something so that it can instead be focused on thinking and perceiving.

If habit is the goal, then it is not enough just to tell a student that they have made an error; it's better to ask them to fix it. In this way their learning isn't much different from what we might experience learning sports or music. Coaches and music teachers will quickly recognize that offering a critique—telling a young person that they need to face the basket or that a note needs to be played more quietly—will not be nearly as effective as giving them a chance to correct and build fluent memory of the desired outcome: “Try that again and let me see you square up to the basket before you shoot” or “Let me hear you play that again but play that last note gently.” It's the doing that builds the habit.

Building a habit also implies a fair amount of frequency and consistency in correcting, and that can be a challenge. Must you correct every single time you hear nonstandard usage? Of course not. There's a delicate balance to be struck. It may be worth skipping a correction in the middle of an especially profound thought, or at least delaying the correction until the thought is compete. Better to wait until after a student says, “We was discussing the ironic nature of a law that says it protects people by taking away their rights,” to say, “Interesting, can you start, ’We were … ’” than to interrupt the thought and risk its never being completed. It's hard to keep two things in working memory at once. There's always the risk that thinking about the correction can drive the sentence you sought to improve out of working memory. And certainly there are times when you'll want to be careful not to suggest that your first thought on hearing a student's heartfelt thought was: “Oh, subject-verb agreement.”

Correcting a few times early in class—before you get to the deepest thinking and when you can remind students early of the expectations—is often especially effective.

You'll also want to explain to students what you're going to do and why in advance so they understand it. That means a brief rollout speech, perhaps something like this: “I'll often help you identify how to say it in the language that college and the workplace will expect of you. How you speak in your lives outside the classroom is beautiful to me, but my job is to help you learn a specific version of the language so you are ready for the world. So I'll often tell you how to say things in Standard English. When I do, do your best to fix it but know that I'm never judging you. I speak differently outside these four walls too.”

As this rollout suggests, it's important that corrections be kept judgment-free—our goal is to prepare students for the world while reinforcing their faith in themselves and their ability. In Culturally Responsive Teaching and the Brain, Zaretta Hammond reminds us to make sure that language correction is “instructive feedback” that helps learners focus on making “specific adjustments.” It should always be “timely” and “delivered in a low-stress environment” rather than evaluative.

So the goal is to find simple techniques to identify and correct errors with minimum distraction. Two simple methods are especially helpful:

1. Identify the error. When a student makes a grammatical error, merely repeat the error in a gently interrogative tone. You can watch Darryl Williams do this in the video Darryl Williams: Has to Be. “It gots to be?” Darryl asks when a student uses that phrase. He then allows the student to self-correct—he's previously explained that they should plan to correct if he points out an error.

2. Begin the correction. When a student makes a grammatical error, begin to rephrase the answer, then allow the student to complete it. In the second example in the video, Darryl begins, “It has …” leaving the student to provide the full correct answer. This version is useful if you try identifying the error and your student fails to self-correct.

Remember to exercise discretion. There will be times to let the sentence be completed and not step in right away. If you're doing work where students are expressing especially strong opinions or thoughts, you'll probably want to let them finish their thought before correcting. And there will of course be times not to step in at all.

In Motivated Teaching, Peps Mccrea points out the risk that good ideas can become lethal adaptations if teachers aren't careful about how they use them. Often this is true of the most important tools we have, and Format Matters is no exception. The most important part of the technique is tone. Students have to know that we care about them, value their ideas, and still have a responsibility to shape their communication habits. Be humane and gracious but also not apologetic. Notice that Darryl doesn't make a fuss about his decision to correct. Sometimes being matter-of-fact draws less attention to a correction and suggests its normalcy.

Complete Sentence Format

A notion, a professor of mine once argued, is a fragment of an idea, an impression, belief, or opinion not yet fully formed in your mind. Only when you put it into words does it finally become an idea. Before it has been encapsulated in language, it is not fully formed. You know you feel something, but you don't yet know what it is until it becomes a string of words. “Language,” as the poet W. H. Auden put it, “is the mother, not the handmaiden of thought.”

Our facility with the process of wrestling ideas into words and syntax helps (or limits) their creation. One definition of a sentence is “a complete thought,” which reminds us that sentence creation is therefore complete-thought formation and surely one of a handful of the most critical skills for any student.

Given that, it's a gift to students to give them lots of practice building complete sentences—in spoken as well as written discourse, upon reflection, and on the spur of the moment. A student's truncated answer—in a single word or a fragment of a phrase—in other words, can often be an opportunity to practice using and developing fluency with the syntactic forms that will shape their thoughts for the rest of their lives.

You can start by simply asking for a complete sentence, either after a truncated answer, as in:

Or before the answer is given:

Notice in the first example that the teacher has praised the thinking (“Yes, good”) before asking for a revision. This is an easy way to keep the tone positive and underscore that practicing sentence formation is not a judgment on the answer. A smile helps make this point too.

You'll notice, too, in the example that James adds a bit more information (he includes the year 1968). Of course that won't always happen. But often when you ask for a slightly more elaborated answer or a more formal form of expression students sense the expectation and willingly add more details.

Alternatively, you could challenge James by suggesting an interesting way to start the sentence, ideally one that uses challenging syntax:

Again the teacher here has praised the thinking before asking for a revision, but the revision has also caused James to use “set” as a verb. This involves taking a noun and turning it into a verb—a challenging task—and applying usage that is less common verbally than in writing. Both are likely to help expand students' syntactic control.

You can see this play out in the video Jasmine Howard: Unique Output. Jasmine asks a student to define a function. “It has an output and it's unique,” the student replies. Her answer is largely correct. At least it is if you make some assumptions about what her pronouns refer to, so Jasmine pushes her to clarify:

“’It has its own output and it's unique,’” she repeats. “What's the ’it’?”

“The input,” her student replies, and Jasmine now asks for a complete sentence with an encouraging tone and demeanor that affirms the answer: “Go ahead and say that in a complete sentence.” In other words, she's asking her student to embed the second answer in the original answer and express them as a complete thought.

“Every input in a function has a unique output,” her student says. She's not just demonstrated understanding, she's practiced creating an elegant and concise expression of a complex idea in the midst of discussion and she’s further specified her point in adding the word “every” of her own accord.

In another interaction she asks a student, “Is this a linear function?”

“Yes,” the student replies.

“Why?”

“Because it forms a straight line.”

“All right. Say it in a complete sentence and do not use ’it,’” Jasmine replies. This requires the support of a classmate who ultimately arrives at: “The equation represents a linear function because the points are in a straight line on a graph.”

I hope it's not necessary to add that an argument in favor of frequent practice at sentence formation is not an argument for reflexively asking for answers in complete sentences. As always, judgment applies. Too much of a good thing can make it a bad thing. But please don't overlook the influence of oracy—the ability to express oneself clearly, fluently, and grammatically in speech. Elegant and concise expressions of a complex idea offered in the midst of discussions, along the lines of what Jasmine's student creates, make a student stand out in a class and feel the confidence to express her ideas.

Further, as I discuss elsewhere, it is important to recognize that the data is sadly clear: students read less and less, and the trend is going in the wrong direction. Reading is in a death struggle against the smartphone and it is losing. Given that written text uses a much wider range of not just vocabulary but also syntax than spoken language, one of the many ways this is relevant is that students are less frequently exposed to those forms of language. Allowing for more intentional use of elaborated and elevated syntax in your classroom can help to bridge at least some of the resulting gap.

Audible Format

Take a moment to watch the brief segment of discussion about Lois Lowry's novel Number the Stars in the second half of the video Christine Torres: Keystone. Then watch the clip Christine Torres: Loud and Proud, which shows the influence of Christine asking students to speak audibly. In this clip you can see her reinforcement of the expectation during the discussion as well as during a series of moments earlier in the lesson. These results are striking. Students express themselves with confidence as if their ideas were valuable, and their classmates hear them clearly and all the nuances of what they say. The rich discussion you hear comes about in part because of this. Students hear arguments clearly and expressed as if they matter and respond accordingly. Combined with Habits of Attention (technique 48) and Habits of Discussion (technique 44), this sews the fabric of a culture where people listen to each other, value ideas, and thus speak honestly and openly with confidence.

None of this would happen if, when called upon, Christine's students mumbled or muttered so that other people in the room could not hear them.

There's not much point in discussing ideas with people who can't hear them, in other words; a classroom where marginally audible statements are common suggests that the ideas expressed in those statements don't matter very much. And it's hard to make listening well an expectation unless speakers are audible. If it matters enough to say in class, it matters that everyone can hear it.

Perhaps the most effective way to reinforce the expectation of audibility is with a quick, crisp reminder that creates the minimum distraction from the business of class. Christine uses the phrase loud and proud. She's consistent and her implementation shows clearly her respect for students. You can hear this in the additional reinforcement Christine occasionally gives. She is warm, supportive, and occasionally playful, but always insistent on excellence:

· To Mark: “Go for it. Loud and proud. Boom it.”

· To Jasmine: “Louder, you got this, girl.”

· To Didi: “Loud, girl!”

· To Jovon: “Louder and prouder, 'cuz you got this.”

· Again to Jovon: “Pause. Jovon. You got this. Match my voice …”

There are other phrases you might use. Just make sure that what you choose is quick and consistent (always preferable to distracting or disruptive), and heed Zaretta Hammond's advice that corrections of this sort should be “instructive and actionable rather than evaluative.” You can see this over and over in Christine's class. The explicit or implicit message is: your words matter; share them with us so we can hear. “Voice” or “with voice, please” is a good simple and noninvasive option. It might work better, depending on your setting and style—“loud and proud” probably wouldn't work well in a high school classroom, for example.

You can observe a further example for audible format in the video Gabby Woolf: Keystone. As Gabby reviews a challenging section of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde to ensure that all students understood the key events, Imran answers the question and Gabby reminds the class, “Good. Can we keep voice loud, please.” She's reinforced this not when Imran's answer was inaudible but as it slipped toward quiet. Catching it early is better, when a reminder will do rather than a correction. Moments later, Ahmed answers and Gabby reminds students again, “Keep your voices loud, please.” Her tone is clear but without pique. Notice that she addresses her comments to the whole class as well, ensuring the universality of the reminder and diffusing any criticism Ahmed or Imran might feel. This too is easier to do when you are reminding students before voices have actually become inaudible. Once they have you'll have to ask the speaker to repeat and draw far more attention to him.

Reinforcing audible format is best when introduced by a rollout in which you explain to students what you'll do and why. You might consider language like “What you have to say is important, so everyone should be able to hear it.” Students may feel uncomfortable at first, so the reinforcement of the purpose behind the expectation is essential in helping them embrace the challenge and contribute audibly to the learning community. So is a bit of warmth as you begin reinforcing the expectation so students understand that it comes from your faith and caring for them. This is evident in Gabby's teaching and in Christine's, where the upbeat tone is as noteworthy as her persistence.

Collegiate Format

Watch the interaction between Beth Verrilli and her student Ashanti in the video Beth Verrilli: Hither. Students are reading a scene from Shakespeare where Lady Macbeth seeks to inspire her husband to ruthless ambition. (Note the beautiful oral reading by Jennifer.)

“What's she going to do when he gets home?” Beth asks, to which Ashanti replies: “She's gonna talk all this evil stuff in his ear.” Which is true and shows a strong understanding of Shakespeare's play, and frankly of Lady Macbeth.

But how would that response play in a college class just a semester or two on in a student's journey? It might work fine. Her classmates and her professor might love the easy casual wisdom of she's gonna talk all this evil stuff in his ear. They might even try to use a bit of it themselves in their own answers; it's fun to capture the essence of Shakespeare so casually, as if it were easy. But Ashanti will also need to write a paper using more academic language She’ll have to be able to sit in the professor's office chatting about Lady Macbeth's “insidious influence on her husband's worldview.” It’s fine to use informal discourse if you know you can shift it up a level or two when you need to.

College and university are settings where words matter and elevated formal discourse is at times expected. No one tells you that explicitly. In fact they will sometimes pretend otherwise but this is only hiding the keys—keeping the secret to themselves. Your ability to shift into such forms of discourse, to frame ideas in precise words or elevated or new words—or frankly sometimes the ability to frame tired and rehashed ideas in new words—is part of the unspoken code of success. These are the forms of language that mark one's expertise in and mastery of a profession—whether anyone tells you that or not.

So consider the value in what happens next. “In AP language, she's gonna talk all this evil stuff in his ear …” Beth says, directing the question back to Ashanti.

“She's going to try to impose her negative beliefs onto Macbeth,” Ashanti explains.

Ashanti's first answer was in many ways just as good. In some settings it might have been better. Notice that Beth is clearly expressing appreciation of Ashanti's original answer. She's merely helping her ensure that she's also ready to prove her bona fides by taking it up a level if she needs to. Her request for elevated discourse suggests the quality she sees in Ashanti's thinking.

Collegiate Format, in other words, refers to moments when teachers cause students to practice elevating their discourse and allows them to express their belonging and readiness to contribute in even the most advanced contexts.