I’ve seen lots of “word limits” lately – in survey responses, professional forms, proposals and articles, and ok- I’ve imposed a few too, in assignments in my school library and youth literature courses.  I’m not surprised when graduate students sigh and explain that they could write more, that it was painful to edit down their writing, and that I’m terribly cruel (they say in jest, I think) in limiting online discussion posts or critical annotations to a specified number of words.

I was surprised, though, when a colleague from another discipline questioned me on my tendency to structure some student work in this way at the graduate level, which made me revisit why I require word limits in the first place.

From an assessment perspective, when the formats of student learning products are similar, say, a set of 100-word annotations of sources (and this might apply to K-12 students, too, depending on the context), it creates some parity to employ a reasonable use of a length requirement.  When students are constructing lots of diverse learning products, then we have to come up with different ways to assess.  That’s a related, but separate, topic.

But if everyone’s writing, then a person who writes 200 or 300 words has more words to establish an argument, give details, or maybe just ramble, as compared to the person who follows the guidelines and writes 100.   If all the students have the same parameters, then everyone has to work hard to get the most bang for their buck in word choice, and the activity becomes not only a way to give information, but also an exercise in revising writing for a concise message.

And here’s the heart of my rationale: professional librarians must use writing and other forms of communication effectively and efficiently, every day, on the job.  More often than not, these forms of information-sharing are designed for specific audiences and purposes, and as such, require certain conventions, formats, and yes, lengths.  Remarks at school board meetings, book reviews, grant applications, report cards, conference proposals, elevator speeches, and tweets all have word limits either defined or inherent, and it takes practice to craft a successful message that’s on point.  In other words, there’s not much room for sweet nothings in professional writing- except perhaps to wish you Happy Valentine’s Day, and maybe, Happy Revising.

–Rebecca Morris

Image: Too Much! by Bruce Guenter on Flickr. Used with a Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 License.

It’s almost time for the librarians to convene for the ALA 2013 Midwinter Meeting, which begins in one week in Seattle, WA.   If you’re attending, what are you looking forward to seeing while you’re there?

Or, if you’re like me when I was a school librarian, it was tough to take the days to travel in January, so I followed the events as closely as I could online, especially the Youth Media Awards on Monday morning.  What will you track on Twitter, Facebook, or elsewhere?  Tell us in the comments!

Here are a few events that I’m looking forward to next weekend, plus a few that I can’t attend, but I’ll be sure to check out on Twitter with hashtag #alamw13.

Friday, January 25 from 4:00-5:00 PM (in the Washington State Convention Center, room 604) is the YALSA Research Forum, which I’m helping to facilitate.   We’ll hear from LIS faculty Karen Gavigan and Kendra Albright on the topic, “Information Vaccine: Graphic Novels as an HIV/AIDS Prevention Tool for Young Adults.”  Then we’ll break into discussion groups to explore the topic further.  This event is for practitioners in school and public libraries, as well as researchers and library educators, so please join us!  More info on YALSA programs is here and more info on ALSC events is here.

Two AASL events that caught my eye are the Dewey versus Genre Discussion Group (Saturday, January 26, 8:30am to 10:00am, WSCC-Room 213 ) and the School Library Research Update (Sunday, January 27, 1:00pm to 2:30pm, WSCC-Room 205).  Check out the full schedule of AASL events here.

I have to miss the Dewey/Genre discussion; instead, I’ll be up early(-ish, it’s Pacific Coast time, after all) on Saturday to join my school library educator friends at the ESLS meeting (the Educators of School Librarians Section of AASL), where the discussion portion will feature the topic, “Outside Our Box: Impact of Related Professional Standards on School Library Preparation Programs.”

If you’ll be in town and you’re looking for things to do (or eat) outside the Convention Center, take a look at the “What’s Happening in Seattle” board on Pinterest, a group board featuring shopping, dining, museums, light rail info, and even some librarian humor.

The Midwinter countdown is on, and I’m looking forward to learning, networking, sharing, and exploring Seattle . . rain or shine!

–Rebecca Morris

Image: Army Photography Contest – 2007 – FMWRC – Arts and Crafts – A Plumpish Proportion, by familymwr on Flickr. Used with a Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 License.

In a recent post, I mentioned Sharon Coatney’s suggestion to start or join a faculty study group to learn about inquiry.  Although the idea of tacking on an extra meeting to your aggressive schedule might sound a little bananas (see sidenote), it might be worth a try.

When I was a first grade teacher, I participated in one study group on differentiated instruction, and another one on lesson study.  In groups of 4 or 5, we’d meet in the morning before school every few weeks and report out on research articles and action plans for trying these strategies in our classrooms.  Our group size ranged from about 3 or 4 to about 10.  A few things stand out in my recollections of these study groups.

First, I remember the study groups as a time to get to know my principal in a collegial and shared learning setting.  We study group participants were collaborators on an even playing field, and our varied readings, classroom experiences, and perspectives were not evaluated but honored, as well as thoughtfully considered, and deepened through our discussion.  Because these conversations took place in a safe and fairly casual space, my principal learned about me and my teaching practice, which she mentioned or referenced in other situations, such as conversations with parents (e.g., “I know that Rebecca integrates a lot of kinesthetic modalities or opportunities for kids to move around,  and that approach seems to work really well for Joey.”)

Next, I found that study groups don’t have to be about topics you already believe in or want to become an expert in.  A study group can be about exploration, about open-endedness, and even about investigating a topic you don’t really buy into.  I remember very clearly that a colleague joined the lesson study group as a devil’s advocate exercise, because she didn’t really believe in the idea of studying one lesson.

Last, I learned a lot about differentiated instruction and lesson study through these study groups, and though I wouldn’t say I’m actively investigating these areas now, I think that the most significant lasting outcome of the study groups was that I established a very “academic” approach to teaching, very early in my career.  I realize that “academic teaching” probably sounds a little redundant, but this inquiry process shaped a disposition toward reflection, learning, and ongoing professional development that continues to drive my work today.

Is inquiry, or a piece of the inquiry approach something that you might pursue with colleagues in a study group setting?  Are there teachers or school leaders that might join you, maybe because they want to know more, or maybe like my colleague that I mentioned above – they don’t really buy into the idea of inquiry, and want to test out their impressions?  What experiences have you had, positive or even less-than-great, with school study groups?

SN: I happened to catch a few moments of a CNN Headline News Showbiz Tonight segment called “Brilliant or Bananas” recently (in which guests weigh in on various activities of celebrities) and this may become my new fun phrase and litmus test for decision-making.  Aside from the alliteration and the excuse to mention my affinity for pop culture, I like the possibility that something that sounds a little crazy might turn out to be clever, worthwhile, or even brilliant.

–Rebecca Morris

Image: Banana – Isolated, by robin_24 on Flickr. Used with a Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 License.