On-Demands Aren’t a Day Off: Getting a Clearer Window Into Your Writers

A Backstory

I remember thinking of on-demands as a day off. I’d read the prompt exactly as it was written, tell my students they had 45 minutes to show me what they knew, and then—figuratively, at least—kick my heels back while they wrote.

Afterward, I’d collect the writing and begin sorting through the stack. Inevitably, I’d find a few nearly blank pages.

How could they have had 45 minutes and written almost nothing? I’d wonder. I guess they just didn’t have anything to say.

Sure, I had followed the protocol. But what had that blank piece of paper actually taught me about that writer? Not much.

Over time, I realized that if I wanted an on-demand to give me a true window into my writers, I couldn’t treat those 45 minutes as time off. I needed to actively proctor—not to give students answers or tell them what to write, but to observe, scaffold when appropriate, and pay attention to what happened during the writing process.

And what I realized was that some of the most valuable data I could gather never appeared on the page at all, but revealed itself along the way.

Using an On-Demand Inventory While Writers Work

That realization changed the way I thought about on-demand assessment. Instead of waiting until the writing was finished to figure out what students could do, I started collecting data while they were writing.

I use an On-Demand Inventory to help. It reminds me to look beyond the qualities of the finished piece and pay attention to process, habits, and qualities of writing. I can observe how students generate, plan, revise, and edit; notice volume and stamina; and still consider qualities like structure and development.

As I circulate, I jot quick notes. Who generates an idea right away? Who spends fifteen minutes searching for one? Who writes steadily? Who stops after ten minutes? Who rereads or revises without prompting?

Suddenly, the on-demand gives me more than a piece of writing to score. It gives me a window into the writer.

Helping Writers Manage Their Time

Forty-five minutes means something very different to an adult than it does to an eight-year-old.

We know that if we spend 35 minutes generating an idea, we probably won’t have enough time to draft, revise, and edit. Our students don’t necessarily know that yet. So I actively help them navigate the time without coaching the writing.

About ten minutes in, I might say, “Writers, if you haven’t settled on an idea yet, you’ll want to choose one soon so you have plenty of time to write.”

Halfway through, I might remind them to consider where they are in their process. Toward the end, I’ll let them know it’s time to think about what they still want to accomplish.

Notice what I’m not saying:

Add more details. Don’t forget dialogue. Go back and revise your ending.

Those prompts would influence the writing. Instead, I’m helping students manage their time, so I have a better opportunity to see what they can actually do.

Giving Writers the Support They Need–and Recording It

Imagine a student has been sitting in front of a blank page for ten minutes. I could leave the student alone because this is supposed to be “independent” writing. Forty-five minutes later, I may collect a blank page. Or, I could recognize that blank page as my first piece of data.

This writer is having difficulty generating an idea independently. Perhaps I pull out a familiar generating chart and ask, “Would one of these strategies help you think of something you could write about?” 

Then I make a quick note on my inventory: Needed familiar generating chart to develop an idea. And I keep watching.

Maybe the student immediately generates an idea and writes steadily for the next thirty minutes.

Now I know something I never would have learned from that blank page: Generating is the sticking point. Once this writer has an idea, they can move forward independently. That is actionable data. Needing a scaffold is data.

When we document what support a writer needed—and what they could do after receiving it—the support itself becomes another source of information.

The key is distinguishing between supporting a writer’s access to the task and supporting the content of the writing. Offering a familiar generating tool tells me something about what that writer needs. Saying, “Why don’t you write about your trip to the beach?” does some of the writing work for them.

A question I ask myself is: Am I helping this child access what they know, or am I telling them what to do?

Studying the Writer, Not Just the Writing

There are some things the finished piece simply cannot tell us.

A three-page piece doesn’t tell me whether the writer wrote steadily for 35 minutes or stared at the page for 25 and then frantically wrote for ten. A piece with no revisions doesn’t tell me whether the writer never reread—or reread five times and didn’t know what to change. Half a page doesn’t tell me whether the writer struggled with stamina or generated five different ideas and abandoned each one.

Those are writing behaviors. And I can only see them while the writer is writing.

That’s why the Notes column on my inventory is just as important as the other categories. A few quick observations can become some of my most useful teaching data.

A Final Thought: Independent Doesn’t Mean Unsupported

I used to think the most accurate on-demand data came from removing myself from the equation entirely. Now I think differently.

The goal of an On Demand isn’t simply to find out what a child can do when every possible support is taken away. It’s to gather information that helps us understand the writer and decide what that writer is ready to learn next.

Sometimes, not intervening gives us useful information. Sometimes, offering a familiar scaffold—and watching what happens next—gives us even more.

So, the next time you administer an on-demand, don’t kick your heels back. Grab a clipboard, your On-Demand Inventory, and get ready to watch your writers work. You might find that those 45 minutes give you a clearer window into your writers than the stack of papers you collect at the end ever could.