Dakota Writing Project

by Lindsay Sorben, Ellis Middle School , Austin, Minnesota (formerly at Bennett County in South Dakota); DWP Regional Liaison

Four and a half days of intense writing. Four and a half days at Lied Lodge, in the heat and humidity of Nebraska. The building itself was air conditioned, but like the heat, all of the participants were relentless in producing pieces for publication, or at least the dream of having them published.

At the meet-and-greet online in Tapped In, we met each other two weeks prior to attending the Technology and Writing Retreat sponsored by the National Writing Project. On Wednesday evening on July 26, we were able to put those names in Tapped In to actual faces while we learned a little more (some strange facts, some intriguing) about one another. Dakota Writing Project was well-represented with three participants: Anne Moege of Mitchell Middle School, Jane Overmoe of Watertown High School, and Lindsay Sorben of Ellis Middle School in Austin, MN.

Each writer came with at particular topic in mind to write about. Everyone had a different vision, but all came with the common theme of using technology to write and teach writing. In that first night, response groups were set up, consisting of three or four members that had some common thread of interest with their topic. And that’s where things took off.

In between the writing, we had the opportunity to receive feedback from actual editors of different publications. They told us of the publishing process and an editor’s perspective when they receive pieces of writing. One of NWP’s editors was in attendance for the entire retreat to assist with our writing questions and needs. What an opportunity!

Thursday night, we all took a break from the exercise of writing to show off a few of our uses of technology in our classrooms with a smorgasbord of showcases. The displays fueled the teacher-brains, gathering new ideas to take home. These progressions in technology and writing bring even more evidence for the case of the effectiveness of their uses for learning.

In our final night at Lied Lodge, each participant had the opportunity to share a portion, a three-minute reading, of the writing that they had been working on. Creatively enough, one of the facilitators created a timer that would “gong” the reader’s time limit. Intimidating! Each reading left everyone wanting to hear more. Powerful!

Writing, writing, and more writing. Oh, and, dare I say, eating were all a part of the experience. With so much time set aside in the beautiful setting, one couldn’t help but be inspired to put words to paper. But, if any of the participants were like me, my piece took on a metamorphosis. I had a clear vision of what I wanted the focus of my article to be before arriving. By the end of the retreat, however, that focus took a slightly different direction.

This is writing, I suppose. It is a journey of thousands of words muddled together that either do or do not make sense. It’s the playing around of thoughts and questions and answering those uncertainties that leave holes in what we are trying to say. After this experience at the WAT Retreat, I’d have to say that writing is also a community. It is a community that is willing to share what they have (so far) and assist when those visions of the writing become blurred. To celebrate what is accomplished and to support those that need cheers from the sidelines. It is community that reminds us that we are indeed writers!

A challenge to all Writing Project teachers who read this: set your sights on an NWP retreat! Every teacher’s experiences are worth hearing about and worth writing about. Before the school year begins, find a focus for the year. What do you want to improve? What is something new that you’re going to try with your students? Journal about it and document your experience. Then . . . write about it. Even without the intension of publication, you’ll learn more about your teaching and ways to improve student learning.

A Middle School Teacher’s 1:1 Reflections

by Anne Moege, Mitchell Middle School
NWP Professional Writing and Technology Retreat ‘06

“Thank you for calling the WWLI (Wonderful World of Laptop Initiatives) hotline. If your idea of technology integration means showing students PowerPoint presentations of your class notes, press 1. If you’ve never heard of the terms ‘wiki,’ ‘blog,’ or ‘discussion board,’ press 2. If you have lost your Internet connection, have no idea where your students’ ‘X:’ or ‘H:’ drives disappeared to, or need other technical assistance, press 3. If your students inappropriately use or abuse their computers in and/or out of class, press 4. If you’re harboring anger because you wanted a Mac and ended up with a Dell, press 5. If you refuse to support your colleagues in their technology endeavors, stay on the line until a customer service representative is available.” And then begins the encouraging music: Wilson Philips’ “Hold On.”

Holding on . . . that’s precisely the decision several of my colleagues and I made as educators a year and a half ago when my middle school, one of the lucky few, was awarded a 1:1 grant in early June of 2005. This grant provided each of our seventh-grade students with his or her own laptop computer. I may make light now of the early challenges we faced, but most days, an 800 number to a technology hotline would definitely have come in handy.

At some point during the ’05-’06 school year, I’d heard through the middle-school grapevine that our superintendent had written a 1:1 grant, but I, quite frankly, hadn’t given much thought about the implications. By spring of ’05 the “word on the street” was that our district intended to drop entirely our twelve-week computer exploratory classes for both seventhth and eighth grades. One computer teacher was moving, and the other decided to retired, but with the news of not filling those positions, my ears perked up. Finally, within the last month of school, we began the planning process in the event of grant approval, and two technology committees (one at the middle school—mainly PC users—and one at the high school—mainly Mac users) were put into place to visit with the assistant director for technology from the local technical school to discuss the platform we would adopt and how the technical school would provide our tech support. By then, I definitely wanted to know more and volunteered to serve on the middle-school committee.

Because the committees met separately, I can relate only what the middle school’s committee voiced concerns about; for example, how would we proceed with laptop distribution, what types of restrictions would students’ computers receive, and what specifics would be included in our computer policy? However, the major outcome of our separate meetings was the decision to adopt a Dell platform, mainly due to the technical institute’s recommendation based on the skills of their network systems people and the structure of the existing network. Adopting an alternate platform would take time, technical tweaking, and training, and time was something that was not on our side. The ultimate vision became this, though I don’t really think the committees’ input had much to do with this goal: our incoming seventh graders would keep the laptops from seventhth through ninth grade; then in tenth grade, they would receive new computer (most likely a Mac) so that by the time they graduated from high school, they would have experienced both platforms. A column in the local paper by our superintendent in mid-May confirmed the exciting grant prospects; all we had to do next was wait.

During a curriculum mapping workshop in early June 2005, our principal announced officially that our district had been awarded the grant, bestowing upon each of our seventh-grade students a Dell Latitude D510 to be used, well, basically like a textbook—to be hauled from class to class and then home and utilized for assignments and homework. By now, I was hearing a good deal of skepticism over the probability of immature 7th graders being able to handle respectfully a $1,000+ laptop. Then there was the reality that, although we would have tech support, all staff would be responsible for teaching students basic computer skills and integrating technology into our curriculum without any computer teachers or integrationists around for guidance. In order to do that effectively, we’d need some training, which would most likely cut into our precious, limited summer schedules.

Still, my enthusiasm for computer accessibility and creative ways of using the laptops far outweighed my doubts. I was tired of fighting for the computer lab (and not winning), and I knew enough about technology to handle teaching students some basic computer skills while we worked on language arts-specific assignments. Fairly new to the district but not to teaching, I was ready to take on a type of leadership role, using my students as “guinea pigs” to try some fresh, innovative strategies and then share successes and failures with other colleagues. I definitely knew I didn’t want to do what everyone else would be doing. Sure, I could do this. Wait . . . innovative things? Not just word processing and PowerPoint?

To meet the challenges that lay ahead, approximately ten other colleagues and I answered the call to be trained to help train the rest of the staff. Here was my opportunity to learn some new ideas and then, a step out of my comfort zone, to teach teachers for the first time (even more daunting when they might be a tad hostile as we were strongly “encouraged” but not “required” to give up eight days of July to be trained). Unfortunately, the first few days of our five-day training led by a Dell representative from Texas started roughly. We muddled through online lessons via the Dell Co-nect site—lessons like “Introduction to Laptops,” “How to Use Office XP,” and “Top Ten Internet Resources.” There was absolutely nothing wrong with reviewing these topics, but the bigger question wasn’t being addressed. Exactly how were we supposed to use the computers with our students? Finally, frustrated by lack of direction and knowing we needed to fill the expected two eight-day sessions with something relevant, we told the Dell rep what we thought our staff would need. We trainers, of course, really had no idea where to start, but it seemed logical to begin with the basics. The trainers, for the most part, knew about the Office XP products (Word, Publisher, PowerPoint, Excel) that students and staff would utilize, but would all of our staff have practiced them enough to be able to teach students how to use them? With this question in mind, our training group then developed two four-day training segments based on the Dell Co-nect site’s lessons for using Word, Publisher, PowerPoint, Excel, digital images, and our district’s intentions for using shared folders. We breathed a sigh of relief and hoped for the best.

Our “blind leading the blind” training ended in July. School started the third week of August, and students received their computers the final week of August during two evening information sessions, which parents and students were required to attend in order to learn policy information, sign policy forms, and, of course, receive the prized laptop. Thus, our laptop experience began.

Numerous issues arose early on to emphasize our inadequate preparation, including server issues, security issues, break-down issues (the Dells were the ones eventually recalled due to faulty batteries), and tech-support issues (one poor guy for our whole middle school). One concern stood out above all of these, at least for me: students voiced that if they were never going to use their computers, why did they have them? We could fix server problems and computers and implement policy changes eventually, but there was no convenient here’s-how-to-integrate-technology 800-number for us to call.

In retrospect, we probably did the best that we could, given the implementation time frame, but with the laptop initiatives becoming more and more prevalent across the United States (in my state of South Dakota, for example, twenty high schools are piloting laptop programs during the 2006-2007 school year based on the Governor’s South Dakota Classroom Connections laptop initiative), it’s important to examine and share the successes and failures of the laptop experience in order to reevaluate how to go about effectively implementing a 1:1 initiative, training teachers for their new roles, and understanding technology integration.

This year my school district, in a sense, has been given a “second chance” to “get things right.” In May ’06, our high school was named one of the Governor’s pilot schools, so our laptop initiative, which has now shifted to a Gateway platform, extends from grades seven to twelve. And during our frustrations, triumphs, and self-examinations of the past year and a half, I’m absolutely certain the high school and middle school staffs have learned a great deal. Thus, although I am but a novice in this whole “wonderful 1:1 world,” I consider the following assortment of comments—based on my students’ and my 1:1 journey—to be a rudimentary “help line” for those about to give the 1:1 a whirl.

1) Teacher training for technology integration means more than reviewing Office products. We can encourage teachers to start small and integrate gradually. We can suggest that they take a look at what they already do and find areas for technology integration. But what if they don’t know where to start, what to try, or what technology integration is? I recently read a newspaper article where Georgia teachers were struggling with how to go about technology integration after two years of 1:1 implementation. Once teachers were given laptops and told basically to “go with it,” one wondered what “go with it” meant; was there a website she could go to?

In my middle school’s case, eliminating the computer exploratory placed our teachers in the unique position of having to teach computer skills. I believe that’s one reason we felt it was important to review the Office products during our first teacher-training sessions; we needed to be able to teach skills our seventh graders might not have been exposed to during their sixth-grade computer exploratory to ensure computer basics were covered prior to their entering high school. Still, during my initial computer training experience, a small voice nagged me to dig deeper. The only Office product most of my fellow trainers and I hadn’t been familiar with was Movie Maker (software that allows one to create and edit movies using images, narration, and music), though I’d had minimal exposure to digital storytelling (stories combined with a visual multimedia element) during my Masters coursework and could immediately see the possibilities for this more “sophisticated” software within my classroom. What else was out there? Where could educators go to find promising educational products, preferably free or at least inexpensive?

Coincidentally, the Dakota Writing Project, based at the University of South Dakota, Vermillion, and affiliated with the National Writing Project, sponsored an electronic writing marathon during the time of our computer training. The opportunity, which involved exploring a variety of online writing spaces, lasted three weeks in July and three weeks in January. The experience proved so helpful that I signed up again for the summer ’06 session. My eyes have been opened not only to more about digital storytelling but also to Nicenet (an Internet classroom assistant), weblogs (online journals), del.icio.us (an online tool for collecting and sharing favorite websites), Tapped In (an online space for educational professionals to share with and learn from each other), and wikis (collaborative websites that users add to and edit). The great thing about these spaces is that they do not apply solely to my content area of language arts. Teachers and students of all content areas and levels can benefit by exploring these and other online spaces.

Since our laptop experience broadened to include our high school this school year, the district brought in David Warlick—an educator, author, computer programmer, and owner/consultant for The Landmark Project (a professional development, web design, and innovations firm in Raleigh, North Carolina)—to speak to us at our all-staff in-service prior to the start of this school year. His presentation opened the eyes of many as he shared what literacy and learning mean in the 21st Century: in short, students will need to be able to research effectively (expose the truth); use that information effectively (employ information); share their ideas in writing effectively (express ideas compellingly); and use information ethically (ethics). The Landmark Project site alone includes scores of technology ideas and resources, but had I not been introduced to David Warlick, I might not have ever stumbled upon his site. Just as Warlick encouraged us to guide our students to becoming effective researchers, we, too, need help in filtering through everything the Internet offers. Districts need to give teachers the time to search for and to develop ideas and should also determine ways of sharing “what’s out there” with their staffs. However, regardless of whether or not a district is able to hire integrationists or consultants, teachers must be willing to learn on their own. Overall, training should be ongoing; teachers should always be seeking, experimenting, and evaluating.

2) Create a learning community with staff. One way to share “what’s out there” is to get teachers actively involved with training, in-services, and so on. I applaud my district’s willingness to allow its teachers to plan and facilitate the past two summers of teacher technology training. Who better to explore, discover, implement, and share ideas than those who are using the technology? Granted, our first training summer sessions weren’t all they could have been. But by our second “go-around” of teacher training sessions, our technology committee and staff had a much clearer vision about what our computer training could or should include.

For example, as a result of my technology exploration through the electronic writing marathon, this past summer, I was able to pass on what I’d learned about Nicenet and del.icio.us. Other colleagues who’d explored on their own presented what they’d discovered about interactive websites, Quia (a “create-your-own” educational materials website), and Inspiration (graphic organizing software).

In addition, though our district hired a technology integrationist this year, several staff members have continued to take active roles in sharing technology information. These colleagues often email our staff links to interesting sites (such as a live webcam of an African watering hole, a blogging article from USA Today) or technology “toys” (i.e. a cordless, optical-air mouse). We’ve held before- and after-school mini-sessions covering areas the staff wants more information about, for instance, reviewing how to use shared folders or certain Quia elements. After my students and I dabbled with blogging this fall and winter, I passed along our experiment to English department colleagues, who are eager to try blogs with their students.

Although our middle-school staff continues to face challenges, we have, in a way, established our own “hotline.” Yes, we have a technology support individual, but his hands are often full.

One colleague down the hall requested and wrote down the directions for “fixing” when a student’s “X:” drive seems to have disappeared. I, of course, asked for a copy! A colleague next door inquired about synchronizing issues that plagued her students early in the year; again, she shared what she learned with the staff. An eighth-grade language arts teacher hosting a high school foreign exchange student asked me for advice about setting up a Nicenet class with the purpose of discussing topics with freshmen at the exchange student’s school in Norway. Because our staff has been working and learning together, how convenient it has been to be able to call on a teacher down the hall to answer questions when they crop up!

3) Learn from your students. Let’s face it; when it comes to technology, the kids often know more than we do. Still, it’s difficult to “let go” of our teacher control and allow the students to teach each other and their teachers. When my “first-year laptop seventh graders” and I tried Nicenet, a few students were unable to log in, and their frustrations and mine grew. Finally, one boy checked into the Internet security settings (nope, I didn’t know much about that at the time), determined the appropriate setting, and then the students were good to go. Later in the year, a student wrote his Nicenet response in Word, explaining to me that he wanted to check his mistakes first and then copy and paste his response into Nicenet. Why didn’t I think of that? This, too, eliminated the panic that ensues on the rare occasions when students post a response only to be faced with the ominous words “this page cannot be displayed.”

In addition, during our digital storytelling experiences with Movie Maker, students helped each other add time to specific portions of their projects or work through the steps of saving the project as a movie, giving me, essentially, several aides in the classroom. When we were exploring “tracking changes” in each other’s writing, a student showed me how to “Tile Windows Vertically” or “Horizontally” so that students could see the edited rough draft and work on the final draft at the same time.

This year I’ve given more responsibility to and learned even more from my kids. Before attempting blogging with my students, I showed one or two students out of each of my classes how to post writing and upload images during their student-responsibility block (SRB) so that when we got to those points during class, they’d be ready to help. Now when hands fly up during an activity, I often have students stepping in saying, “I can help him” or “I’ll show her how.” When I didn’t know how to go about a blogging task, I passed the quests on to interested students: “figure this out and let me know how to do it.” My bloggers have taught me how to compress a “too-large” image so that it can be uploaded to one’s blog and how to adjust settings so that a blog’s comments will not be “off.”

Finally, I often ask my students for feedback. Last year I was curious if using Nicenet would improve my students’ attitude toward writing. I discovered that although nearly all of my students expressed that they enjoyed using Nicenet and the majority felt that their response writing improved in quality, attitudes toward writing didn’t change much. One student pointed out that “writing is writing no matter what.” Recently, students finished a research unit that involved more aspects of Nicenet: following a class schedule, conferencing, adding documents, and link sharing. Once the unit wrapped up, I asked students for input so that I could better prepare for my next attempts. I learned that some students liked that they were asked to work more “independently” and enjoyed sharing links with classmates to “cut down on” the amount of time it took to find websites relating to their research topics. Some would have preferred discussing the topics face to face while others liked conferencing with students from my other language arts sections. Next year when I tackle the research unit, I know I need to carve out more time for explaining how to add a document, thanks to students’ suggestions.

4) Be flexible, patient, and prepared. Just because my students now have daily access to laptops, we do not always have it “made in the shade.” Example A: Two or three (or four) students per class are without computers because the laptops are being repaired (which can require as little as an hour or as much as several weeks’ time, depending on the computer’s “injury”). What do I do with those students? Example B: Students diligently working at a website are suddenly “kicked out.” What then? Example C: Students can’t access their work on a certain drive (“It was there at home, but now I can’t find it”). Now what? (No, you don’t need to remind me that “technology is great . . . when it works”.)

The fact is, we have to be flexible, we have to be patient, and we have to be prepared. Ideally, each of my students would have a computer every day of school, but unfortunately, that is not the case. My school did have some extra laptops to be loaned out, but they’re all—well—loaned out. So I do try to have a “Plan B” for my “computer-less” scholars, such as providing a hard copy of an assignment, letting them work with a partner, allowing a trip to the library’s lab, or even letting them move on to another activity. If the Internet “acts up,” I can always divide my class into groups, one using a website while the others read independently or work on another activity, and then switch the groups after a certain amount of time. To avoid wasting precious class time, I quickly learned that if I could troubleshoot some of the common computer issues (i.e. a student’s computer not synchronizing or reconnecting a student to our school’s wireless network), I wouldn’t need to send a student to the “tech guy.” However, I also learned that I did need to give students time within class to use the technology, not dump it on them as homework only to be greeted the next day with “I just didn’t get how to do this, so can you show us again?”

Even during our second year, we still are getting used to how the technology works and how we should work with it. Each day carries a variety of challenges that try our patience, and it’s not uncommon for a teacher to bring up a problem we’ve never before encountered. When my patience runs thin (symptoms my students easily recognize, such as my jaw tightening, fists clenching, and comments about another gray hair), I force myself to refocus and praise my kids for their patience. We don’t give up. Instead, we move on. We try again later. We stay positive, and, eventually, we figure things out.

5) Separate “skinny rabbits” from “fat rabbits.” A few years back, an educator from Iowa spoke to our staff at an in-service; one point she made was not to waste energy on small issues (which she eloquently called “skinny rabbits”) and to be able to tell the difference between the “skinny rabbits” and “fat rabbits” (matters of true importance).

Often, the laptops were, and still are, the hot topic of conversation at lunch or team meetings. Staff members grumbled that students weren’t caring for their computers and their computers were often “in the shop.” A few kids were bypassing security barriers, getting to sites they weren’t supposed to be on; thus, they’d lose computer privileges. One teacher stated she was about ready to give up because three or four students were computer-less each day. In addition, the server, at times, didn’t cooperate when students were using the Internet for research or posting discussion responses, or it took forever for students to log on. Some of the rooms’ LCDs projected slightly off the screen; when could that be fixed? The most common complaint, though, was displeasure in students’ computer settings: wobbly arrows, a hidden start menu, funky fonts everywhere, and background pictures changed multiple times a day.

As I listened to and participated in these conversations, the Iowa educators’ message resurfaced in my mind, and I began to categorize my own “skinny rabbit” laptop issues and “fat rabbit” laptop issues. I asked myself, despite their irritating nature, which “skinny rabbits” could I handle in order to focus on the bigger picture? Surprisingly, I came up with quite a few, including wobbly arrows, funky fonts, and all of the other “cosmetic” experimenting middle-school kids do; my LCD being projected a couple of inches off both sides of the screen (like the tech guy didn’t have enough on his plate); and computer-less students (if three didn’t have them, that means 20-some still did). Yes, these were skinny rabbits, a little annoying, but skinny.

But, shortly after I had shared Nicenet with the English department at my middle school, one colleague emailed me concerns. Her students had discovered the personal messaging element. Was I aware that students could send messages that the teacher couldn’t see? And how would Nicenet know if the person creating a class was really a teacher? Some of her students might create their own class as a space for discussions with friends. Oh no, this was a “fat rabbit” issue! Immediately, I voiced my concerns on the Dakota Writing Project’s E-writing discussion board at Tapped In. The project’s co-director soon responded with far less emotion than I had expected, stating, “Personally, I don’t see that as a bad thing,” and provided the link to an article called “Letting Go: Online Collaboration and Communication in the Classroom.” Okay, my students would experiment in ways I hadn’t anticipated; I wouldn’t be able to “control” that part of their learning. Eventually, I managed to place that concern on the “skinny rabbit” side.

Though there are still times I question the “control” issue (remember my students are blogging this year?), I remind myself that technology experimentation is all part of the process, for teachers and students. Plus, I have “fatter rabbits” to fry—like continuing to explore with my students’ blogs, planning a digital story for second semester, and getting a discussion set up for our Gathering Blue novel.

For the past year and a half, my district has embarked on an extraordinary roller coaster ride into a world that, honestly, hasn’t always been all that “wonderful.” We implemented quickly, only to find out just as quickly how much we didn’t know. Thankfully, much of our staff has “held on” and continues to explore and experiment, evaluate and share. And in many ways, being involved in a laptop initiative has rejuvenated my love for and excitement about teaching. I have been challenged to rethink what I do in the classroom, to discover new ways of doing things, to grow personally and professionally. There will be no answer-all 800-number in this laptop world, but because many of my colleagues have pulled together, I can always check with a colleague down the hall.

A glimpse into a year in the life of a fifth-grade teacher teaching science

by Lindsay Sorben, Ellis Middle School , Austin, Minnesota (formerly at Bennett County in South Dakota); DWP Regional Liaison

“Miss Sorben, what button do I push?” —Internet Explorer.
“Miss Sorben, my computer doesn’t work” —I’ll be right there!
“Miss Sorben, my computer just locked up.” —You’ll need to force-quit.
“My password won’t work!” –It’s case-sensitive. You need to type everything exactly.
“What’s case-sensitive mean?” —Grrrr!
“Where’s the internet?” —On the task bar on the bottom. The “E” or the compass icons.
“What’s an icon?” —A little picture.
“Miss Sorben, I need your help!” –I’ll be right there!
“How do I force-quit?” —Open Apple Q.
“Huh?” —These two buttons.
“Miss Sorben, a new student just came in! Does he get a password, too?”

Meanwhile ( back at the ranch), your fellow teachers stand in front of their classes, smiling and enjoying the great lesson they have planned for their classes. Your scream, though only heard in the magical subconscious of every teacher in your building, produces unseen smiles as they thank the goddess of teaching that they are not in that computer lab with you.

Taking risks is often a scary thing. It holds the uncertainty of success and the inevitable mistakes made along the way. Onlookers watch in awe the forerunner traveling to defeat and, possibly, wonder if they should be taking that leap themselves. But for the pioneer, the walk is sometimes painful as he visualizes his goal, sees the obstacles, and wonders: why am I doing this?

In the electronic age of instant information and video games, it is often challenging to engage our students in the lessons and activities that we prepare for their learning. Students want visuals. They want pizzazz. They want us to dance around and do cartwheels (although this may not always work). They want to be entertained without having to leave their cushioned couches. How do we answer to their cries? How do we answer to our own cries for help in teaching hi-tech kids?

“You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink.” We can be creative with how we present our information to our students, but we can’t always make them apply what they’ve learned. We’ve got standards to reach. We’ve got deadlines to meet. And we better make sure that no child is left behind in the battle.

While participating in an online writing marathon with the Dakota Writing Project, a branch of the National Writing Project (a professional organization that promotes teachers teaching teachers how to write and teach writing), I began brainstorming ways to integrate today’s technology into my classroom curriculum. As part of an inquiry project with it, I used Nicenet.org as an instructional tool for science.

I taught science to both classrooms of fifth graders, with about fifteen students in each section. The site has a message center for the students to correspond to one another. Initially, introduction into the program was gradual, but the ever-present demon of time became a huge factor in the success of our usage of the Internet Classroom Assistant (ICA). It was going to be a learn-as-we-go kind of project, but availability of computers and computer lab times became crucial. Not only that, the amount of time allotted to the teaching of science (shamefully) was sacrificed in order to accommodate for schedule changes and to allow for math and reading to have their necessary time. (Social Studies was another loser in the game of scheduling).

In the midst of my excitement of getting students to see the internet and science in two different, merging lights, other teachers watched, smiled and nodded, and carried on with their regularly scheduled classroom programs. “You’ve gotta try it!” I would say to my colleagues. “Yes, Lindsay, that’s nice,” would be their reply. How could I convince them that they should be integrating technology into their classrooms? How could I show them that it really isn’t so intimidating or that it really doesn’t take any more time than what is already needed in the classroom?

With only thirty minutes of technology being taught a week, I knew that there had to be something done so as to not cheat my students out of possible experiences. Seeing the varying possibilities through our DWP E-Writing Marathon, I didn’t want my students (or teachers) to lose out on what was out there. Nicenet became my medium to write with technology, a baby step. But even more so, the journey that I took in using it became more valuable as I continue to integrate technology and writing into my classroom.

My adventure began in September with the setting up of the Nicenet online classroom. I thought it would ease the students’ usage of the new learning tool by already having student logins and passwords assigned and ready for use when the time came to sign in for the first time. I typed them out and saved them, knowing that the day would come with someone (and probably more than one) forgetting a password.

Other loopholes that I had to get through were permission for the students from their parents to use the internet and the arrival of new students to the fifth grade. It took weeks to collect all of the permission slips. By the time we started using Nicenet, there were still a handful of students who couldn’t even be in the lab with us. Finding alternative assignments and keeping them on task during my introduction to Nicenet was a challenge.

New arrivals often came unexpectedly and sometimes on days when Nicenet was in the plans. It caused two problems: 1.) Did they have their internet-use permission slip?; 2.) Could I get them a login and password by class time? I did as any teacher does in those situations, I “punted.” No permission slip meant an alternative assignment, and a login and password would either have to wait or be assigned during a planning period (or lunch period) before class.

In order to set up my science classroom as a classroom that uses writing to learn, I begin my year with Thinkbooks. They are basically journals the students use to write down thoughts and questions pertaining to what is being studied. I often post a question or statement on the board for the students to respond to, and they spend the brief minutes at the beginning of class and write down their thoughts. It’s a tool that I use to assess understanding and to give them a chance to think about what they are studying.

A month of using Thinkbooks passed before trying Nicenet. Science was scheduled in the afternoon. Fortunately, at the time of my introduction, the computer lab in my upper elementary wing was available for use. In it was an LCD projector and enough computers to accommodate both sections of students.

The first issue to arise was the use of software. We are a Macintosh school with both Internet Explorer and Safari software. Students began opening Internet Explorer. Soon after running, however, the computers began locking up, causing the students to have to shut down their computers and start them up again to open Safari.

With the chaos of software somewhat out of the way, we had just enough time for the students to log onto the website. Students were exposed to case-sensitive “hiccups.” Voices of “it won’t work,” “what’s this” or physical frustrations were heard in the lab. With patience and perseverance, we marched onward toward our goal until all were finally logged on.

The LCD projector proved to be an almost necessary piece in introducing the students to Nicenet and in giving them a visual “walk-through” of what the site contained. Our first stop was the Messaging center. I had posted a question to the students, asking for their thoughts about science so far. I demonstrated how to respond to my message. All followed well. Whew! The fruits of my labor!

The first day’s plans were almost too much for my fifth graders to handle with the stress of actually logging onto the site. Once the students were onto the website, they were a little apprehensive at first but got excited at the thought of getting to “e-mail” each other messages. Ha-ha! Motivation for learning! It was at this time that I gave them the disclaimer that the Messaging feature was only to be used for “scientific” things, not for personal messages; and I had access to all of their accounts and would know if they were using it inappropriately.

The first few trials of Nicenet left me exhausted! I was troubleshooting. The students were impatient. Computers were locking up or passwords were lost. Students had difficulty typing or typing well. Not until later in the year, thank goodness, did the students start abusing the Messaging feature. In the early stages of its use, when most of the problems emerged, the computer lab was vacant at the times I needed it, but, as the semester progressed, the computer lab became less and less available and was given precedence to reading classes over my science class.

I was able to establish the use of Nicenet through our Ecosystems and Astronomy units in the first semester. I exposed them to the Conferencing feature and the Assignments feature. Students had a difficult time following the written directions in Assignments. They either didn’t want to take the time to read it or they wanted me to talk them through their assignment. It was a feature that I had used only a couple of times. In retrospect, fewer, smaller steps should have been built onto larger steps to promote their independence.

Conferencing was supposed to be the magical tool that brought our great minds together, with open discussions about science and what we were doing in class. It became a carnival of writing, some thoughtful, some just haphazard words typed out. Few students read what their classmates wrote, and even fewer actually responded to their classmates’ postings. What I did get, though, was a collection of students’ understandings of science. It became another assessment tool.

Link Sharing became most valuable during our Astronomy unit. Students were expected to perform investigations about an astronomy-related topic or concept. During those investigations, the class researched their topics on the internet. The Link Sharing feature was a tool for them to use. I posted links on the site that they could explore that may or may not have led them to other sites for their research. The Link Sharing also provided an easier way for me to get the students to navigate to certain websites instead of expecting them to type URLs that were long and cumbersome.

We finally got most of the wrinkles ironed out with software and computers halfway through our experience. That’s when I saw results of using Nicenet for thought processing. It could have been student maturity, or it could have been the habit of processing their learning in writing. The students’ replies to my Conferencing topic about Astronomy were deeper than their short responses to their feelings about science at the beginning of the year. Some were metacognizant. Some were analytical of their efforts. Overall, their writings were beginning to become just that: writing!

In my investigations i have had a lot of fun.I have got a lot of experience about astronomy now.While i was researching i had a lot of fun.I got to roam around on the internet it was really cool.The construction of my or our final project turned out pretty well, we made a model of crab nebula.My classmates projects were really cool i liked jeremy and patricks the best. —Fifth Grade Student (1)

And their writings were improving! Early Writings of a Fifth Grade Student:

I liked the experiment that we did today.It was really fun. I hope we get to do more fun experiments this year. —Fifth Grade Student (2)

Later writings of same fifth-grade student:

I had a really fun time learning about astronomy and making projects. It was easy researching.The resource I used most was the internet. It was kind of hard and kind of easy to make our project.It was better than I thought it would be. I thought my classmates projecst were cool and they took their time. —Fifth-Grade Student (2)

And then it happened (ominous chord). Just after completing the students’ reflections about Astronomy and their investigations, a new schedule for the computer lab emerged, throwing yet another wrench in to my trial of using technology. At the time of the schedule change, science was from 1:45-2:45. The computer lab was going to be occupied until 2:20, leaving less time to devote to Nicenet. We visited the lab when we could. My topics were simplified for the time.

A light bulb came on after a month of playing cat and mouse with the computer lab. Through a grant (for reading), the school purchased a mobile lab unit with Mac labtops. Aha! I had my answer. With only a couple of months left of school, we began using the laptops instead of the computer lab. By this time of the year, we were in a time crunch and were only able to log onto Nicenet a couple more times.

Curious to know how the student felt about using Nicenet, I asked them their thoughts on getting to use computers and using the website. The majority of students agreed that they enjoyed it. They recommended its use for future fifth graders. The classes liked the idea of not always having to do “real work.”

I don’t look back on this trial as a failure. I think that this “experiment” was very much a success. 1.) It integrated technology into the classroom; 2.) The students were writing(!); 3.) The students were writing in science(!); 4.) Very few, if any, complained about having to perform the tasks set up for them while in Nicenet; 5.) It became a tool for assessing the students’ understanding of the subject matter; 6.) Students were having conversations through writing; 7.) The science classroom was self-motivated; 8.) By the end of the year, I had a couple teachers inquire about Nicenet and one teacher who told me, “You know, I really should be doing something like this with my students.” I got as far as showing her the website and how to set it up!

This adventure is not over. This is only the first leg. In my nine months of obstacles and challenges and mini successes, I began something. I jumped over a road block in my teaching that will only get smaller and smaller the more I take on these new battles. And when I meet a new road block, I won’t sweat it. I’ll take in stride. Keep my patience, and trudge onward toward my goal. Isn’t that part of what we try to teach our students? Perseverance?

My students thought, reflected, wrote, typed, studied, discovered, communicated, listened, and learned. A student reflects, “What I think about science is that we write a lot about science and that we do a lot of hard work!” They hadn’t been exposed to something like this before. This was their beginning, too. I gave them a taste. Just a taste of what’s out there. It may springboard into their own adventure, or just may make things easier for the next teacher who attempts the unheard of.

My challenge to those apprehensive teachers watching that pioneer face her doom? Take some chances. At least a few little ones at a time. Take the risks to make you better and to make your students better, accepting mistakes as part of the beauty of learning.

Editor’s note: this poem was written during the NWP Writing-and-Technology Writing Retreat in July 2006 after Lindsay had eaten a positively huge salad at Lied Lodge, the location of the WAT Retreat.

Attack! A Poem for Two Voices

by Lindsay Sorben, Ellis Middle School , Austin, Minnesota (formerly at Bennett County in South Dakota); DWP Regional Liaison

by Lil Manthei, Takini School

This experience certainly rewrote my definition of what it means to be rural. For me, rural has always been the vast West River prairie and the seemingly endless fields of corn and beans that cover East River, South Dakota. At this conference, I was introduced to other areas of this country that are just as rural as my sacred South Dakota. The mountains of West Virginia; the peninsula in Washington State; the farmlands of Ohio; the Rocky Mountains of Colorado and Montana; Maine; and even the state of New York can claim rural status. Writing projects in these areas face many of the same issues that we deal with in South Dakota.

The issue of distance and time that is required of teachers to attend summer institutes. In South Dakota, some teachers have been required to travel distances of over 400 miles to attend an institute. Teachers that have families have found this to be difficult, if not at time impossible for them to accomplish. Other states also acknowledge this problem. In West Virginia, teachers would travel over two hours one way twice a month to attend a writing project function. This issue and others were addresses at one of the breakout sessions that I attended. The session was presented by members of the West Virginia Writing Project and Santee Wateree Project from South Carolina. Their solutions including combining student writing retreats along with teacher writing retreats. The teacher strand would include demonstrations. The South Carolina Project does a series of two-hour sessions monthly, beginning in January and ending in May. Their focus was on teacher inquiry.

Along with enlarging my sense of ruralness (new word: not yet in any dictionary but mine), I learned that the issue of poverty is characteristic of many of the areas represented at the Rural Sites Conference. The Puget Sound Writing Project in Washington state presented their annotated bibliography for teaching and working with students who live in some level of poverty. Given that two of the three highest poverty-level counties in the country are located in South Dakota, I feel that this annotated bibliography has a wealth of resources for educators throughout our state.

Other aspects of the journey to New Mexico included a trip to see the Acoma Pueblo and visit with a tour guide of the Pueblo who had attended Haskell Indian School with a friend of mine from Pine Ridge. We also took a tour of Sky City Elementary School, where the native language is integrated completely into a third-grade classroom. I also participated in a “walk, shop, and talk” trip through Old Town, where a sidewalk vendor told me the story of the day that he made a turquois cross that I purchased from him. It was a Palm Sunday, and he was watching parishioners entering and exiting the San Felipe Mission.

All-in-all, I was completely enchanted by the “land of enchantment” that is Arizona.

Revisioning Writing in Rural Landscapes

by Dixie Linn-Norberg, White River

In the closing session of the Rural Sites Conference, one of the questions Joyce Sheehey (High Plains WP) asked us to write about was how the conference had broadened our thinking about teaching and learning in rural schools.

I wrote, “Rural Sites has already provided me with a tremendous opportunity for professional growth that reflects in my classroom.” I was referring, in part, to the project that DWP Board member Lil Manthei and I had coordinated and carried out with White River freshmen and Takini freshmen and sophomores.

Using Nicenet, our students, who live about 125 miles apart and on different reservations, exchanged ideas about regional literature. We began the unit with an exercise in metaphor:

Who Am I?
“I am the skyhawk,” wrote a Takini student
“I am the medicine pole,” wrote another.
“I am the great-grandson of a pioneer,” wrote a White River student.
“I am all the colors of the rainbow,” wrote another.

The positive student response and excitement generated by this project impacted my notions about rural teaching and learning before the conference began. By the time we presented our project, “Using Technology to Expand the Rural Classroom,” those presumptions were already being revised, and I was eager to learn about other classroom projects and practices. I was only disappointed by the impossibility of attending all sessions.

Yet, a part of the growth I was referring to in response to Sheehey’s question during that closing session dealt with the reshaping of my perceptions by speakers such as keynote speaker Scott Richard Lyons. Lyons provided a statistical portrait of Native Americans in the US: 65% complete high school and only 9% graduate from college. Lyons spoke about life and his family on a northern Minnesota reservation. He spoke about poverty and other lasting effects of colonization before he challenged teachers to be “witnesses” to history regarding Native people and culture. As “public intellectuals,” Lyons says teachers can provide evidence and can “speak the truth” about what has happened and is happening in our world. He mentioned the Yucca Mountain nuclear waste dump and the patenting of wild rice. Lyons suggested several books throughout his address. They included, on the topic of white privilege, White Like Me and What’s the Matter with Kansas.

Later that day, Laurie Smith-Small Waisted Bear (Montana WP) provided teachers with several critical thinking activities designed to increase teacher awareness and sensitivity to the numbers and cultural history of indigenous students who pass through our classrooms. “Reframing the American Historical Narrative Through Indigenous Ways of Seeing” offered participants the “The Other Side of the (Indian Education) Story.” We were given a syllabus for this very full session.

Following a traditional Lakota introduction, Ms. Smith-Small Waisted Bear led us through an “Introductory Text-based Discussion” of the article, “Willing to be Disturbed.” We used a double-entry organizer to “take a line for a walk”; then we shared our responses with others at our table. This was followed by a nine-minute “Writing Marathon.” We wrote to these questions: What is an American? How does this country tell its story, i.e., “the American narrative?” and “What is an American Indian?” We finished our marathon with a read-around.

The next activity was a “Gallery Walk.” We were given a rather limited amount of time to peruse a display of visual and written text. The items were displayed in groups; for instance, an Edward Curtis photo might be hung next to a collage of Indian mascot names. We selected one visual and one text from the display, then chose our format. We were encouraged to use a double-entry organizer or the “Say, Mean, Matters” handout to record our observations. Again, we ended the activity by sharing at our tables.

The final activity was “Critical Literacy: Taking a Closer Look.” We were asked to consider “the what,” “the how,” and “the why” when selecting examples of Native American literature.

Another session I attended within the Classroom Practice strand was “Can Writing Improve Reading? Yes!” by Sue Fischer of High Desert WP and Theresa Sweeney of South Coast WP. I was so impressed by both presenters and their success at teaching kindergarteners to write that I have copied the materials and sought out local primary teachers to share them with. Can kindergarteners write four sentence pieces about literature? Can they write persuasively?

Sue Fischer’s presentation, “Which Comes First—Writing or Reading? How Daily Journaling in a Kindergarten Classroom Enhanced Reading Skills” includes a section called “How We Did It (Reached Our Goal).” Here are three items pulled from a list of about twenty:

*We wrote in journals every day, from the first day of school.
*We modeled writing and reading every day, using a morning message.
*We helped children who needed help by writing their dictation for them until they were ready to write on their own.

Theresa Sweeney, South Coast WP, followed with “Good Writers Make Good Readers.” Her kindergarteners use organizers to summarize stories and then write from those organizers. Besides summarizing, students use other comprehension strategies such as drawing conclusions and inferring, predicting, and making connections. According to Ms. Sweeney, these strategies help good readers develop into good writers. Ms. Sweeney provided us with examples of student work, from kindergarten to third grade.

Reflecting on the conference and Sheehey’s question, I have concluded that the entire experience has transformed my perception of teaching and learning in rural schools. I am very appreciative of the opportunities I have been given through DWP. When I consider the progress that I have made as a teacher of writing since DWP 2005, I feel very humble and grateful. My students, of course, are the real winners.

by Sharon Olbertson, Kilian College

Lindsay Sorben, DWP board member, and I, (Sharon Olbertson), represented DWP at the annual National Writing Project Spring Meeting in Washington, D. C. on Mar. 29-30, 2007. Over 300 representatives from about 29 states were in attendance, probably one of the largest groups ever to attend this conference.

The kickoff meeting provided delegates with packets to deliver to the legislators, including flyers describing the impact and extent of the NWP over its recent history. In 2005-2006, 7,527 programs were conducted at NWP sites. The number of educators served was 137,018. Lindsay, math teacher that she is, calculated that roughly 24,000 students have been served by the Dakota Writing Project over its history. This figure seemed meaningful to each office that we visited. (A variable which she perhaps overlooked was the number of former students who are now in the classroom as teachers, continuing to use NWP materials!)

Since I had been particularly interesting in the “Effective Strategies to Improve Writing” published by the Alliance for Excellent Education, I included a summary of this report in the legislative folders, as well as some commentary on how this affects schools. Our legislators need to see that, 1) DWP pays attention to research, and 2) Research is telling us to do things differently. Too many people still think of writing the way it was presented when they were in school.

Our visits to the legislative offices were quite satisfying. Senator Johnson, continuing to recover from his stroke and surgery, was represented by one of his aides. Erin Barry is quite knowledgeable about the writing project as well as Senator Johnson’s strong support for the program. Trying to keep Senator Johnson’s paperwork to a minimum, his staff explained that he would not be signing the letter of intent this year, although his vocal support would continue.

Since the vote on Iraq spending was on the floor that morning, we did not expect to see our legislators at all. (Those who were to speak at the kickoff meeting were not able to be there.) We met with Senator Thune’s aide, a person new to subject, but eager to learn. She appeared impressed by the fact that NWP crosses all disciplines and grade levels. Though not on the agenda, she raised the issue of merit pay. We took the opportunity to describe to her how teachers could be affected by many uncontrolled variables, thus making it hard to discern where the actual “merit” lay.

In the middle of the conversation, Senator Thune returned to his office and visited with us for some time about the National Writing Project. Once again, we stressed the broad influence of the program. Senator Thune’s interest appeared genuine, so we are hopeful that he sees NWP as a student issue, rather than a political one.

As with the other visits, we did not expect to see Representative Herseth. In addition to the crucial vote in Congress, Ms. Herseth was to be married in two days! In past years, Ms. Herseth has shown herself to be an enthusiastic supporter of the writing project, and also very cognizant of writing issues. To our pleasant surprise, Ms. Herseth returned just as we were leaving—time enough for her to express her support for NWP.

In brief, we felt we had three very productive visits in our legislative offices.

The meetings on Friday began with the featured speaker’s topic of teachers and research. Her point was that little of the research on writing was actually getting into the hands of all teachers. I found myself agreeing, based upon my own experiences. While a full-time teacher, I certainly did not take the time I should have to keep up on research. Now that I am semi-retired, I read more of the research, but am not in a position to do much with it! That is why I summarized the “Effective Strategies” report and get it into as many teacher hands as I can.

I also attended roundtable discussions on reading in the content areas and nonfiction writing. What both of them had in common was their NWP approach of relying on the expertise of the teachers in attendance. While both presenters had materials to initiate conversation, they quickly became figures secondary to the topic at hand. Time flew by as attendees gave suggestions, asked for advice, shared success stories—all the things that teachers do when they get together. I shall paraphrase one insight that I found particularly meaningful (on NCLB or education in general): “When we put our faith in scores rather than the people in the classroom, we have lost sight of what it’s all about.”

With teachers helping teachers—indeed—that’s what it’s all about!

by Lindsay Sorben, DWP regional liaison

I left the Midwest on a chilly, drizzly March morning for Washington, D.C., packed for a week of Capitol-Hill-lobbying, cherry-blossom-viewing, Smithsonian-walking, and Metro-riding excitement. Delayed flights and terminal sprints got me to our nation’s capital in time for delayed baggage and shuttle-bus searching. Despite the mishaps of traveling, I sat in awe of the city in the back seat of the Super Shuttle van, admiring Roman architecture frosted with pink and white blossoms.

With Sharon Olbertson as my trusty cohort, I enveloped myself in the mission at hand, fully believing in what that mission was and how much of a difference we were going to make for the future of the National Writing Project and Dakota Writing Project. It began with a social (in the style of NWP) and our itinerary of the next two days. Mission: to win over South Dakota legislators and earn their signatures for renewed funding in 2008.

It was a busy day on Capitol Hill. Votes were being taken on the Iraq spending bill, and legislators were committed to various meetings. We knew that meeting with the legislators was going to be difficult.

First Stop: Senator Thune’s office. Sharon and I spoke with Mr. Thune’s education aide. We spoke of National Writing Project philosophy and practices. We also spoke of specific goals and concerns of South Dakota teachers. Fortunately, being a member of the DWP Board of Directors, I had just attended our annual planning retreat, which allowed me to share a few of our visions for the coming year. I explained the plans of using the Dakota Digital Network (DDN) to reach teachers across the state and “broadcast” four DWP teacher-consultants’ writing demonstrations. I expressed DWP’s intentions of being a service to the South Dakota Department of Education. Senator’s aid was diligent in her notes, assuring us that our efforts would be shared with him.

As we were about to leave, Senator Thune himself stepped into the meeting room! Much to the delight of both Sharon and me, we were able to give an abbreviated speech to Senator Thune. We knew he was a hard sell and a busy man. With an assured nod and grin, the Senator left us, and we soon left the aide. We knew that it was unlikely that he would support the Dakota Writing Project with his signature, as he had not done so in the past, but at this point, we were still hopeful.

Second Stop: Representative Herseth’s office. Once again we met with another education aide. This time it was a fellow South Dakotan, and we needed no extra explanation of our state’s geography and challenges because of that. Ms. Herseth has long been a supporter of the Dakota Writing Project, so we went into an easygoing meeting. The speech was simplified, knowing that we had her support. We did include our plans for the year, however, which left the aide excited about the possibilities.

Just as we were leaving her office, Representative Herseth walked through the door! We said a brief hello and wished her well on her wedding only two days later.

Third (and final) Stop: Senator Johnson’s office. We hoped that we would get the chance to meet with Mr. Johnson. Instead, we met with his long-time education aide to education, Erin. Senator Johnson has always supported the cause of NWP, but, unfortunately, his signature would probably not be on the list because of his medical condition and concerns. We were assured, however, that his support was still with us. It was a candid conversation, and Sharon and I left in good spirits, ready to experience D.C.

The challenges of getting to Washington, D.C. were long since forgotten while I walked the Mall and gazed at the cherry blossoms. Not since my year teaching in Japan had I seen such a display. Truly breathtaking!

Friday’s round-table discussions were enjoyable and enlightening. I sat in a session that addressed the concerns that many other sites shared with us: getting our name out there, assisting with the needs of teachers in our region, and continuing the purpose of NWP. Such great discussions and ideas came out of it! I am anxious to tell my fellow DWPers all about it!

My mission had concluded, but my adventure in D.C. had only begun. I took in the Cherry Blossom Festival, including the opening ceremonies. I attended a Smithsonian-sponsored concert kicking off their tribute to Japan and Japanese culture. I walked. I rode the metro. I ventured solo for a day in our nation’s capital. It was an amazing experience.

So I returned to the Midwest from 60- and 70-degree weather to a blustery 40-degree, rainy day, threatening snow and ice. Once again, I was delayed and reassigned a different flight; I missed that flight and was reassigned to a later flight. Unfortunately, my luggage was lost, somewhere between Chicago and Minneapolis. I am uncertain if I was more upset over leaving spring and coming back to winter, losing my belongings, or missing out on what I had left behind in Washington, D.C. I captured as best I could in pictures and words, but those days are only marked by the steps I took where history took place and continues to take place. It was just another NWP stamp in my passport of experiences. I look forward to the next page and next mission.

by Sharon Olbertson, Kilian College

Lindsay Sorben and I had completed our “official work” in Washington, D. C.: we had gone to each of our legislator’s offices and lobbied for their continued support of the National Writing Project; we had attended the NWP roundtable sessions about various writing topics. Now we were simply enjoying the many attractions the city had to offer.

As we rested on a park bench, inhaling the scent of the blossoming cherry trees, a fit but elderly gentleman strode close to our bench. I caught a brief glance of the red logo on his shirt—T-u-s-k– with the rest covered by his jacket. My mind immediately connected this to earlier images of our venture: a cluster of people with red blazers, a brief news clip on T.V., a Good Morning America story by Robin Roberts from many months ago.

“Sir!” I walked toward him. “Are you one of the Tuskegee airmen honored at the Capitol this morning?” He was somewhat taken aback by this total stranger reaching toward him, asking to shake his hand. “I want to thank you,” I explained, “for what you did for our country.”

What this man had done, as I remembered from Robin Roberts’ story about her pilot father, was to fly missions during WW II as a member of the Tuskegee Airmen. Things being what they were at that time in history, black pilots had their own, separate unit. These 800 men had done courageous things but had not been recognized for their valor.

Until that day—March 30, 2007—when several hundred survivors of that unit were awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor by the president of the United States, the son of another courageous pilot!

I babbled something about the privilege of meeting a genuine American hero. I shook his hand again. He showed us the medal—a gold disk that filled the entire palm of his hand! And then, Mr. Sam Broadaxe, with grace and humility, explained. “If there had been a debt to us that hadn’t been paid, it was paid today.”

The impact is still with me. Lindsay and I later realized that Mr. Broadax had to be in his 80s, but he looked and moved like a much younger man. I thought of all the Tuskegee airmen who went to their graves unnoticed, unappreciated. Not knowing anything about the deployment of units during WW II, I allowed myself to think that perhaps these airmen had helped protect a navy man like my own dad.

I don’t know what Mr. Broadaxe did when he returned from his military duties. I suspect that for 60 years after the war, he was probably just like my dad after the war—an ordinary man. But unlike my dad, this Congressional Medal of Honor recipient spent years in separate businesses, separate restaurants, separate washrooms, separate schools.

What a loss for our country to have overlooked/ignored/denied the heroes in our presence!

And THAT is the most significant memory I have of Washington, D.C., 2007!