Three Shifts Toward Becoming a Present Writing Teacher

Estimated Reading time: 737 words, 3 minutes.

Audience: Elementary Teachers

The Context

There was a time in my life when teaching writing didn’t involve actual writing. I understood writing instruction as that, just a set of instructions and feedback for students. Then came Writing Workshop, and with it, the gift of rediscovering my love for writing. Being encouraged to sit and write with my students felt like a recess pass. Year after year, I wrote alongside them. I sketched, scribbled, and made lists while they transitioned from the minilesson to independent work. That brief time was for them, but it was also very much for me.

When I introduce teachers to Writing Workshop, I highlight this essential point: writing teachers are writers. Not everyone feels the spark in that statement. Still, I emphasize that moment when the expectation to write applies to everyone. Some welcome my enthusiasm, others quietly agree, and a few may consider starting a notebook.

Why It Matters

Many have written about the impact of modeling a writing practice. In this post, Amy Ellerman shares the magic of being a teacher who writes and the power of doing so when planning units of study. In this other post, Sarah Valter writes about the role of being the lead writer in the room. Melanie gives us reasons to write, straight from her students’ perspectives.

These are my reasons to set aside 3 minutes to write after saying “Off you go!”

• If I sit down to write, I avoid the urge to redirect.
• If I sit down to write, I give myself a moment to go over my conferring plans.
• If I sit down to write, I might actually write something I like.

But I don’t want this post to be about the benefits; I want to speak to the barriers that often keep teachers from starting a writing habit.

Three Shifts

1. Yes, but I’m not really a writer.

Start with identity, not skill. Most of us hold on to this mystical idea that writing requires a specific set of skills. Sure, as writing teachers, we understand the significance of developing craft and techniques to model for our students, but we shouldn’t let our lack of confidence get in the way.

Lower your expectations, forget you are trying to write a story, an essay, or a featured article—write what you see.

Three reminders that can help:

• I am a writer when I write down the morning message.
• I am a writer when I write positive notes for my students.
• I am a writer when I annotate my students’ passionate discussion about their book club.

2. Yes, but I can’t think of anything to write.

We can think of ideas to write; the problem is that we label them too soon: too simple, too complicated, not good enough. The ideas are right in front of us: in the teaching points of our units, in the interactions we witness, and in the stories we tell our nonteaching friends. Instead of aiming for something big, start with two or three sentences.

Three prompts that can help:

• Write about the student who came back from the bathroom holding their friend’s tooth.
• Write about the jammed printer or the lack of paper in all three machines.
• Write about the colleague who surprised you with a new pack of flair pens.

3. Yes, but my writing isn’t as strong as the mentor texts we use to teach.

Mentors are meant to inspire us. A big part of teaching writing is learning to read like a writer, then attempting the author’s moves. We don’t have to be the best writer in the room, just someone who tries something new.

Three tips to get rid of that mindset:

• Don’t start a piece from scratch; choose one line from the mentor and imitate.
• Keep your teacher draft intentionally short—you want places to teach revision. A paragraph, a short passage, or just a few sentences can be strong mentors.
• Flag places where you get stuck or change your mind. Students will benefit from hearing your thought process.

The Bottom Line

A present writer is better than a perfect writer. We know students need that same flexibility of thinking, which they get by seeing us trying, revising, and getting stuck. When we dedicate those first 3 minutes of independent work to our own writing, right there at their tables, we can build the kind of culture that empowers even the most reluctant writer in the room.