Rigor & Rapport

Earlier this week, I had a discussion with some of my students that helped me clarify some thoughts I have about how I go about teaching literature.

I am currently reading a book called Jane of Lantern Hill by L.M. Montgomery with my 3rd grade class. It is about a young girl living with her sweet mother and domineering grandmother in Toronto who finds out that her father, whom she assumed was deceased, actually lives on the beautiful Prince Edward Island. She begins spending summers with him, and the rest of the year in Toronto. After her first summer on the island, stifled and shy Jane blossoms into a confident young lady. Grandmother attempts to undermine Jane’s newfound confidence at every turn upon her return to Toronto, but she is ultimately foiled.

While comparing the grandmother to another character in the story named Aunt Irene, one of my students described grandmother’s words as being like “sour poison.” He described the remarks of Aunt Irene, who is passive-aggressive and cruel in her own unique way, as “sweet poison.” I immediately knew what he meant, but I thought it was important that I play dumb. “I see what you’re getting at,” I replied, “but I need you to explain your metaphor using information from the book.” 

I think if a teacher said that to me when I was in the third grade I would have been scared that I said something stupid, and I would have stopped talking. I definitely wouldn’t have had the confidence to say what my student said immediately, and with complete confidence. He said something to the effect of, “Grandmother is sour poison because as soon as you hear what she says, you know she is mean. Like when she criticizes Jane for how she reads. Aunt Irene is sweet poison because the things she says sound sweet, but they are actually mean. She calls Jane ‘lovey’ after she insults her.” I didn’t have the same confidence or clarity of thought at that age, nor did any of my classmates.

There are two main reasons that he was able to answer the question clearly and with confidence, the first of which is that we have a strong rapport. I’ve known him for years, and he is confident in my affection for him. I place a lot of importance on building relationships with my students so they can be confident that they are safe to share their thoughts with me, and that I will help guide those thoughts in the right direction. Regardless of their individual personalities (rapport doesn’t only benefit shy kids like I was), this allows the child to share more openly, and thereby allows me to more effectively teach them how to think critically about literature. Additionally, by building a relationship over time with my students, I become more invested in their progress because I really love them and want them to succeed. I thereby derive far more pleasure from their growth than I otherwise would. 

Generalizations can’t exist without examples.

The second reason my student was able to explain his metaphor confidently is that he is used to coming up with reasons for the conclusions he has drawn—I mercilessly drill this into my students from the moment they enter my literature class in second grade. I am a tyrant of examples. The simplest of conclusions must be backed up with concrete evidence in Mrs. Steele’s class. Very early, I teach them the difference between an example—a specific instance of something, like grandmother criticizing the way Jane reads in one chapter—and a generalization—a trend of something happening repeatedly over time, like Aunt Irene always saying passive-aggressive things. Generalizations can’t exist without examples. I tell my students, “You have to be able to point at the part of the story you are talking about in order to have an example.” So, at a very early age, I can have much deeper conversations about literature than most people would think possible, where the students are expected to draw conclusions and support them with evidence.

Extrapolate this over years and years of consistent demands and rigor, along with increasing complexity of themes over time, and you have a student who can think critically about literature, and who can speak about it confidently.

Grace SteeleComment