Friday the Orchestra Honor Students (6th-12th) were touring the elementary schools. The music was picked to spotlight individual instruments. It was meant to entice young want-to-be musicians to join Orchestra and learn the foundations. The kids did a marvelous job.
When we returned to the library I had my 3/4 combination write about their favorite instrument. One of my favorite responses was from a young boy.
"My favorite was the Bass. I liked the low sounds it made when they wiped the stick across it. You could feel the low sounds vibrate through the floor."
This description made me stop and think. He saw the bow move across the instrument, he heard the music and felt the vibrations. How is this a great analogy to writing? In the music they are unaware of the hours of practice. The amount of effort that goes into correct fingering. They hear the music after hours of work and practice. It looks effortless - so they become frustrated when their first attempts are not at the master level.
I watch my young authors as they slap down a few sentences and then turn to me and say I'm done. I struggle to find new ways to teach them the importance of revising their work. As I reflected on the short description of a young boy's observation. I realized why we need to model our efforts. They need to see our struggles. They need to see that our writing does not magically materialize from a single attempt.
They need to see us write.
When we returned to the library I had my 3/4 combination write about their favorite instrument. One of my favorite responses was from a young boy.
"My favorite was the Bass. I liked the low sounds it made when they wiped the stick across it. You could feel the low sounds vibrate through the floor."
This description made me stop and think. He saw the bow move across the instrument, he heard the music and felt the vibrations. How is this a great analogy to writing? In the music they are unaware of the hours of practice. The amount of effort that goes into correct fingering. They hear the music after hours of work and practice. It looks effortless - so they become frustrated when their first attempts are not at the master level.
I watch my young authors as they slap down a few sentences and then turn to me and say I'm done. I struggle to find new ways to teach them the importance of revising their work. As I reflected on the short description of a young boy's observation. I realized why we need to model our efforts. They need to see our struggles. They need to see that our writing does not magically materialize from a single attempt.
They need to see us write.
