Today in class I asked my students the unthinkable:  as they got ready to write their blog posts, I told them they had to write at least 150 words.  (I don’t like assigning a word or page length to writing.  My usual answer to “How long does it have to be?” is long enough to do the job).

Some students were listening to lessons on developing or elaborating on ideas and were starting to write better blog posts, but too many were writing status updates of just a sentence or two and were content to write no more no matter how many questions I asked or how hard I pleaded with them to “tell me more.”

Today I had students start to get the concept of elaborating on an idea.  Once they wrote their first thoughts down, we looked at the writing together.  Where can you add an example?  Where can you explain what you were thinking?  Is there a place to add sensory detail?  No, adding ten “verys” to each sentence does NOT count.

Other students, though, were ready to give up before they started.  “I can’t write 150 words,” one said.

“Can you start by answering the questions in the prompt?” I replied.   That worked for some, but others were still overwhelmed.

Underneath these conversations, I kept thinking about two articles I read about failure and success over the weekend.  Katherine Sokolowski challenged herself (and me) to try to bring in the attitude gamers have toward failure into the classroom.  When a gamer dies in a game, he or she doesn’t give up, but goes right back to the game to try again and again.  Each failure is an opportunity to learn for the next level.  A columnist in our local paper reviewed David and Goliath by Malcolm Gladwell.  He shared an anecdote from the book which illustrated the point was that hard work rather than inborn talent is the key to success, and that hard work is the rarer quality.

So many of the students I teach think that you have to be born with the ability to read and write well (as well as many other things like athletics and music).  How can I convince them that hard work makes the difference, not natural ability?  I know they can and do work hard.  Just this morning, a students shared with me what he did over break.  I didn’t understand all of it, but it involved dropping an engine out of truck, making repairs and putting it all back together.  He saved birthday and Christmas money for years to buy the equipment he needed.  He assured me it was easy.

Those students who couldn’t even think about writing 150 words?  After class they became involved in an animated conversation about the latest video games they got for Christmas.  You got it–they talked about they ways they died and how to overcome each obstacle they encountered.

How can I get students to connect their passions and the things they are good at with their reading and writing?  I invite students to choose books that connect with their interests and to write about what they know and love.  How can I assure them that “failure” in school is not the end of the game but an opportunity to learn?

I’m taking part in the weekly Slice of Life Challenge sponsored by  Two Writing Teachers, where teachers write and share each Tuesday. Join in yourself or head over to check out what’s happening with other slicers. If you’re taking part in the SOL, leave a link to your post. I’d love to read it.