Each day three children, and only three children, share their work with the whole class. I limit it to three because after three readers, no one gets an audience; other students check out. In fact, if a fourth child gets up to read, chances are even you are not listening. Instead you are using stares and hand gestures to coerce distracted students into paying attention. My second rule: Students may sign up only once a week, which means each child gets to share every week and a half or so.
I use a process during author's chair similar to the one I use during writing conferences, thus reinforcing the language and procedures.
The child, seated in the special author's chair, reads her work, and everyone applauds. Then she asks, "Any pointing?" and classmates comment positively. Initially, of course, many of the "points" sound like this: "I like that you wrote about your dog. I have a dog . . ." But I also raise my hand, and in the primary classroom, I am always called on. I then model pointing by reinforcing the qualities that make good writing. So I might mention something like the following:
· "You chose to write about the first time you ate pudding. What a fine, manageable topic!" (We spend a lot of time talking about topics that are too big.)
· "You wrote: 'When I went underwater, my eyes stung.' That is a lovely detail that allows me to imagine your story."
· "You began your story with a sound. Oooh, did that hook me! I wanted to hear more."
· "When you said, 'God and Jessie made a good team,' I smiled because that sounds just like you, Ian. That's your unique voice coming through."
· "Your sentence, 'My kite flip flapped like a bird,' sounds like a poem. Very fluent!"
Eventually the kids will begin to emulate me when responding to their classmates, especially when I give little nods or sounds of approval as they do so. They become the ones reinforcing the strategies-reinforcing what constitutes good writing each and every day.
Next the author asks, "Any questions?" I know many teachers encourage classmates to offer suggestions, and I think this can also be very productive. But I prefer questions because they allow writers to maintain a greater sense of ownership. Instead of a classmate saying, "You should begin in a more exciting way," he says, "Why did you decide to begin your story that way?" This gives the author a chance to think about his or her writing choices and in the process, discover ways to improve them. Granted, young writers don't always answer the questions in the most scholarly way. We often hear, "It's what I thought of," and some of our students in the audience get stuck and asking the very same question day after day. However, don't despair. The value of questioning is actually more evident during writing time. Picture the young writer beginning a new piece. She starts to write the typical, "One day," and suddenly the voice of her classmate, Joely, comes into her head. Joely always asks "Why did you decide to begin your story that way?" So our young writer crosses out "One day" and writes, "Where are you going with that fish?" She's going to call on Joely during author's chair, and she'll have her answer at the ready.
I also model effective questioning during author's chair. In addition, I have sticky notes in hand, and when a student asks a particularly astute question, perhaps a clarifying question or a question about process, I write it down on a sticky note and hand it to the author. This accomplishes two goals. It tells the writer that she or he just heard a question worth paying attention to, and it reinforces the student who asked the perceptive question. Don't write down every question that is asked-only those that have a very specific and positive influence on the piece. As you remember from Mr. Skinner, intermittent reinforcement is the most powerful.
So, you ask, what does author's chair have to do with student independence? Everything. Writers are motivated by audience. A single teacher's response does not make an audience. Students will write for longer periods, use livelier language, include dazzling details, and search for their unique voice when performing for classmates. That's what an author reading is after all: a performance.