The text chosen for the occasion is Robert Frostâs âStopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening.â At first mention, it seems an unlikely choice: What do these youngsters know about snow? But Bobâs teaching purpose is to help these students make meaning beyond the visualization experience of the text, also to, in effect, advance their reading interpretation skills.
The children are stimulated by the occasionâthe visitor from New York City, the surround of teachers. Excited, nervous, they shift in their chairs, whispering to one another, stealing glances at their teacher. But when Bob starts reading the text aloud, they settle down. He passes out copies and then reads aloud a second time.
Initially, the responses, not unexpectedly, are to the snow. The students have seen pictures, but they wonder about itâwhat it would be like to walk and play in it, to watch it fall. When the murmur of these comments breaks, Bob, piggybacking on their comments of watching the snow fall, scans their faces and asks, âWhat do you do thatâs like what the man in the poem is doing?â Smiling into the puzzled silence, he repeats the question, adding, âThink about all the things that you do.â
At first, the childrenâs responses are tentative, exploratory. They relate to the excursion: âGoing for a drive in the country;â âtaking a ride on a donkey cart.â These responses are edged forward by a couple of developmental questions: âWhat else is the man doing?â âWhat do you do thatâs like that?â They know the answer to the first; the second is less immediate.
Hesitantly, Jenny asks, âWatch the rain?â
Bob nods encouragingly. âDoes anyone else do that?â He pauses and acknowledges the signaling hands and voices. âWhy do you watch the rain?â
âI watch to see if itâs going to stop so I can go out to play,â Phil says.
âYeah, maybe thereâs nothing else to do,â Martin interjects.
âSometimes Iâm waiting to go home. So, I watch âtil the rain slows down,â Christina says, âso I wonât get wet.â
âSometimes I just like to watch it,â Matthew shrugs. âI donât know why.â
âAnybody else who just likes to watch the rain?â Bob looks around. âTomas?â
âWell,â Tomas glances toward Matthew, âI like to watch storms when the wind is fierce and everythingâs blowing and the rain is splashing all over.â
âYeah! The trees bend over.â âAnd the rain rattles on the roof.â âAnd the wind makes things fly.â Voices from around the room speak agreement.
âI watch storms like that, too,â Bob says. âStorms in New York can have fierce winds off the ocean that toss the rain at the buildings. But I like soft rains, too.â
A chorus of voices agrees. âEspecially when the sun is shining at the same time,â says Nora. âThen, everything glistens and smiles.â
Bob smiles back at Nora. âIs there anything else that you do thatâs like what the man in the poem is doing?â He waits.
After a long pause, Carla says, âWell, sometimes I sit on the beach and watch the waves.â She glances at Josie, who nods. âI donât know why. I just do.â
âI do, too,â adds Josie. âSometimes with Carla, sometimes by myself.â
âI like to watch the waves when the tide is coming in,â exclaims Martin. âThey roar and crash against the shore.â He slaps one hand against the other, simulating the movement and sound of water against sand.
âIn the morning the waves are quieter, like theyâre sleepy. Theyâre nice to watch, too,â Phil says.
âThey sparkle in the sun,â murmurs Carla.
Bob smiles at them. âI like the sound Martin makesâthe roar and crash of the wavesâand the look of sleepy waves. They remind me of some snow images in the poem.â He looks at his copy, the students turning to theirs. âDo you see them?â
âThereâs downy flake,â says Beth, âThatâs soft like sleepy.â
âAnd,â adds Joey, âeasy windâ
âOh, I like sweep of easy wind and downy flake,â exclaims Jenny. âIt reminds me of how the sand flies when Iâm sweeping the sidewalk.â
âYes, those are soft snowy sounds.â Bob nods and waits.
âHow about The woods are lovely, dark and deep?â asks Joey. âThatâs kind of neat, the sound of it.â
âMmm, it makes me shiver,â Carla says.
Bob nods again. He returns to the primary discussion. âWhy do you watch them, the waves, I mean?â
âLike Carla says, theyâre sparkly and pretty,â says Anne.
âSometimes I count them,â Marcos grins at the class. âItâs crazy.â
âThat would make me dizzy, watching and counting. If I watch too long, I get sleepy.â Tomas stares ahead. His head drooping, he pretends to drowse off.
The class laughs. âBut it is relaxing,â Josie agrees. âSometimes I forget Iâm supposed to watch my little sister. I watch the waves and canât seem to stop watching.â
âHow many of you are like Josie and Tomas, you canât stop watching and feel relaxed?â Hands go up, heads nod.
âNot when the tide is crashing and a storm is coming in.â Martin again simulates the waves, adding sound effects. Marcos and Phil join in, laughing.
Bob leads them back to the poem, asking them to compare their reasons for watching with those of the narrator, and to measure the hypnotic pull of the waves in comparison to that of the snowfall. His final question, âWhy do you stop watching?â draws forth another connection for them as they relate their sense of obligations: to get home for supper, to complete a chore, because it has gotten late. The students conjecture the narratorâs tiredness, his need to complete his journey, and his promises to keep.
In traditional parlance, Berlinâs demonstration lesson can be identified as teaching a poem to this class. In a manner of speaking, he has. However, by helping the students explore their connectedness with this text, he has helped them to connect with the heart of the text, perhaps to evoke and experience a poem. Concomitantly, he has potentially advanced a reading skillâgoing beyond words to the making and interpreting of meaning. Helping students to consider the relationship of their experiences to text and to suggest routes of connection and of understanding is consequential in processing reading. These students may have seen the scenic and narrative text broadened and deepened; they may have gained a strategy to open the mystery of that meaning hidden somehow âbetween the lines.â
Further, Berlin has effectively led the students into the creation of a poem from the words. He has helped them envision beyond their initial responses to the scene and beyond their preliminary relatedness. Building bridges, he helped them fit their experiences into the words. The subsequent centering of attention gave impetus to both broader and individually specific responses. The student readers gained access to meaning.
RESPONSE-TO-LITERATURE BACKGROUND
Learning to read for most children starts with responses to stories, oral or read-aloud literature, or, in abbreviated form, responses to words. In the comforting ambience of parental attention and closeness, listening to words, often with the accompaniment of entrancing pictures, they develop language awareness and participate in language response. They experience the words, giggling, perhaps, at sound effects, repeating them for their own enjoyment; they experience wonder, their eyes wide, and experience joy at happy conclusions. They develop, too, subliminal awareness of story structure, being able, for example, to model and tell their own stories.
Such response-to-literature background is appropriately touted for its enhancement of reading readiness. Establishing positive, expectant attitudes about reading along with developing language and story awareness have significant learning effects. However, the responses themselves are equally significant; the giggles, the sighs, the exclamations reflect and enhance an increasing alertness to the effects of words, to the power that words in context have.
There are, of course, other language, nonliterary situations that promote experiences with words. Children are surrounded by symbols and textsâtraffic signs, advertising symbols, billboards, food packages, and the like. Children, alive to situations, learn to âreadâ and understand these words situationally and experientially.
These early learning-to-read situations build word associations and broaden the childrenâs language landscape. These experiences are the underpinnings of reading.
These preliminary statements have focused on the language-reading responses of children to call attention to the reader and the role of the reader in the reading transaction. The foundation idea: The reading act necessarily involves a reader and a text. Without a reader, text does not come into existenceâdoes not have meaning or invoke feelings or sensations, but is just squiggles on a page, whether it is an unnoticed stop sign, an unopened letter, or a skipped chapter in a book. (The word text refers to the marks on the page, the words as symbols. Text is differentiated from literary work or poem; these are used in reader-response literary criticism to refer to what emerges and evolves from the transaction of a reader and a text.)
These ideas were first promulgated in 1938 (and in subsequent 1968, 1983, and 1995 editions) by Rosenblatt in Literature as Exploration (1995, fifth edition) and expounded in The Reader, the Text, the Poem: The Transactional Theory of the Literary Work (1976). In recent decades, theories of literature, termed reader response criticism, have emerged from the acceptance of the important role of the reader during the reading act. However, not all reader-response approaches are identical in their expression of the readerâs role, some concentrating on the reader, others giving primary attention to the text. Rosenblattâs transactional theory insists on the reader and the text, each affecting the other (as will be explained). It forms the core of this book.
Traditionally, the readerâs input in the reading act has been ignored; the text has been...