Blog 3: Writing a Grant

 

     Because blog posts often take on a life of their own, I rarely title my blog posts until after I “see” what I’ve written in the blog. Today was different. I knew right away how to frame this one—“Writing a Grant Proposal,” or “Figuring Out How to Effectively Navigate Discourse within Communities Willing to Share Their Money.” For those of you out there who have written a grant application, you can probably relate to my pain. (In fact, I would love to hear any suggestions or moral support you could offer). For the rest of you, maybe this blog will help you (or dissuade you) if you ever decide to apply for grant money.

Why apply for a grant?

     The school district where I teach has plenty of money for technology: all high school students have their own lap top computers; there are two full-time certified teachers (Educational Technology Teachers) in each high school who work with teachers to “implement solid pedagogy with blending learning”; there are two part-time employees in each high school who act as OIDCs (On-line Instructional Design Coaches), working with teachers to find better and more creative ways to use Canvas, our learning management system; there is one full-time employee and numerous student employees at each high school who help troubleshoot and repair the 3,000+ computers students and staff use daily. In addition, the district has shelled out a bunch of money to completely renovate our media center last summer in order to add an “Innovation Center” where technology “happens.” All of this is fabulous and I am glad we have it—really—but with all this money for technology, certified teachers, and building renovation, you know what is missing? A writing center and a full-time writing teacher! At some point, the district forgot the reason they were providing increased technology for students, and the technology push took on a life of its own. It’s time to ground it in what students need most of all—literacy!

   Several of us recently asked the principal about funding a full-time writing teacher next year. We were told—flat out—there is no money for another “English” teacher! I decided it was time to look for money outside the district, which brings me around to why I decided to take on the arduous writing task of applying for a grant. Because I have never written a grant before, I am in the investigative stage, and this is what I’ve learned about writing a grant—so far . . .

Determining “Genre” in Grant Writing

    My first step in my grant writing education was to consult the experts. I’m a neophyte and know virtually nothing about grant writing, and I’m asking for a substantial amount of funding (upwards of $50,000). I will not be able to sell myself through my charms. My success will be dependent solely upon my writing ability. Recently, I consulted several grant-writing experts. Interestingly, they don’t always agree (surprise, surprise!) on how to successfully write a grant proposal. According to Dr. Douglas Brooks, professor of Educator and guru in grant-writing,  “Grant writing is not creative writing. It is technical writing” (Part 1). Ellen Zimet, however, disagrees, asserting, “Grant writing is a cross between technical writing and creative writing.” Zimet notes that, “Your job is convincing them to give the money to you.” Since that’s the objective, I would argue that Zimet didn’t go far enough—grant writing is not only technical writing and creative writing, but also persuasive writing. Asking for an exorbitant amount of money requires a “mixed genre” approach. Not only do charitable organizations want to know facts about the proposed project in a thorough, organized, readable fashion (technical writing), but they also need to be engaged by the writing (creative writing), and understand—and, ideally, support—the exigence of the project (persuasive writing). As Amy Devitt observes, “genre” has been re-conceptualized as a “dynamic patterning of human experience,” enabling writers to construct their writing world (573). In this case, containing the writing in one genre would not be as effective as creating a genre that fully
reaches the intended audience.

Thinking about the Discourse Community

     In addition to considering "genre," the writer must also determine how to write for specific discourse communities. A discourse community "share[s] assumptions about what objects are appropriate for constitutes 'evidence' and 'validity' and what forms of conventions are followed (Porter 228). Understanding the audience as a discourse community will be absolutely crucial! Starbucks and The National Writing Project at two organizations who are granting money for writing projects. One need only go the website of the two organizations to see what drives their discourse communities. As a money-making business, Starbucks does not have an official mission or vision statement; however, it is clear that in addition to making money, the members of this community are also concerned with the environment and sound working and monetary conditions for those who provide them with their raw materials. The Starbucks' homepage includes "social impact" as one of its secondary pages; once a person clicks on this, a number of related topics emerge, including "community," "environment," and "ethical sourcing." Their interests are a bit different than those of the National Writing Project, a non-profit organization, whose purpose is to increase the number of outstanding writing teachers and writers. The National Writing Projects' mission is to "focus on the knowledge, expertise, and leadership of our nation's educators on sustained efforts to improve writing and learning for all learners." In addition, the NWP's vision is clear, as well: "Writing in its many forms is the signature means of communication in the 21st century. The NWP envisions a future where every person is an accomplished writer, engaged learning, and active participant in a digital, interconnected world." Being a part of a discourse community requires a person to "act, think, value, and interact in ways that together with language render who they are and what they are doing recognizable to others" (Gee 14). As a writing teacher and graduate student in Rhetoric, Writing, and Digital Media Studies, I am already a quasi-member of the NWP's discourse community. I whole-heartedly embrace their mission and vision, and, while this does not guarantee they will award me any money, it certainly makes my task of convincing them of the importance of a writing teacher much easier. Starbucks, on the other hand, may require a slightly different approach. They are not necessarily interested in writing, per se, but they are interested in the global community and participation in it. People who can write effectively, especially on behalf of the global community, certainly fits into that. Now, all I have to do is to convince Starbucks of the connection!


Next Week's Blog: Communication in Career and Technical Education (Skyline Welding)

       Works Cited

Brooks, Douglas. "Grant Writing for Beginners: Part 1." Technology and Learning, vol. 28, no.6

     Jan. 2008. Academic Search Complete [EBSCO].

Brooks, Douglas. "Grant Writing for Beginners: Part 2." Technology and Learning, vol. 28, no. 7

     Feb. 2008. Academic Search Complete [EBSCO].

Devitt, Amy J. "Generalizing about Genre: New Conceptions of an Old Concept."

     College Composition and Communication, vol.44, no.4, Dec. 1993, pp. 573-586.

"Discourses and Social Languages." An Introduction to Discourse Analysis: Theory and Method,

     James Paul Gee, Routledge, 2014, pp. 11-39.

"Genre and Identity: Citizenship in the Age of the Internet and the Age of Global Capitalism."

     The Rhetoric and Ideology of Genre: Strategies for Stability and Change, by Charles
   
     Bazerman, Hampton, 2002, pp. 13-37.

Porter, James E. "Intertextuality and the Discourse Community." Rhetoric Review, vol.5, 1986,

     pp. 34-47.

Zimet, Ellen. "Grant Writing Techniques for K-12 Funding." The Journal, vol. 21, no.4, Nov.
     1993. Academic Search Complete [EBSCO].

Blog 2: The Importance of Teacher Discourse Communities

     One of the responsibilities in my job is actively working with my colleagues (four other11^th grade English teachers) in a Professional Learning Community (aka “PLC”). In fact, in the school district in which I work, there are 55 minutes set aside weekly specifically for Professional Learning Communities to meet. For those who are not familiar with PLCs, a PLC is a group of educators who “meet regularly, share expertise, and work collaboratively to improve teaching skills and the academic performance of students” (DuFour). A large body of research indicates that the single most important factor in increasing student achievement is the quality of instruction a student receives; PLCs are employed as a strategy for making system-wide changes, starting with the teachers who provide instruction and know students best.

     PLCs are—in essence—discourse communities. A “‘discourse community’ is a group of individuals bound by a common interest who communicate through approved channels and whose discourse is regulated” (Porter 228). This includes language, but also involves a multitude of other factors, such as shared ways of “thinking, acting, interacting, valuing, feeling, and using symbols” (Gee 13). In education, PLCs were implemented in response to the isolation of teachers struggling to improve instructional effectiveness alone. By joining PLCs, teachers work in groups to discuss issues, review research on best instructional practices, and analyze student data to determine the next steps to be taken. This sounds easy enough, but some PLCs are more effective than others; there are a number of factors which determine a PLC’s functionality.  

     A few years ago, I was in an incredibly dysfunctional, ineffective PLC. We met every week (as we had been directed) but got little done, and—more often than not—at least one member left the meeting upset. The first problem: PLCs were a fairly new concept, and they involved a paradigm shift for most of us. Administration dictated that we—as teachers in the same subjects and grade levels—meet weekly, but administration provided no direction whatsoever. They just erroneously assumed that requiring participation in a PLC would yield significant, positive educational changes. The second problem: Many of the members did not want to meet for one reason or another; some didn’t like the idea of being forced into “another meeting” by administration, some didn’t want to collaborate, some felt it was a “waste of their time,” and some didn’t want to share their good ideas, preferring instead to keep their ideas for their classroom alone. Many enjoyed the autonomy of closing the door to their classrooms, while others wanted to collaborate and share ideas. Some of the resistance may have come from sheer insecurity, fearing judgment and criticism from other group members, but there was also the issue of cohesiveness.

     As I described earlier, a discourse community needs to share values and ways of thinking and acting, but clearly, the members of this PLC did not. Richard DuFour*, an expert on PLCs in education, notes that many PLCs are ineffective because members are prisoners to the traditional mythology of education, which includes the myth of the conquering hero who closes his/her classroom door and “performs miracles” all by him/herself, along with the myth that it is enough for teachers to provide educational opportunities; educators have no moral obligation to ensure all students succeed. Wanting to adhere to a traditional model of education was one of the factors at play in this PLC. Some wanted to stick to traditional pedagogy and curriculum (isolated grammar and vocabulary lessons, e.g.), while others wanted innovation and “outside the box” thinking. The mismatch of values simply couldn’t be overcome. Eventually, several of the members changed grade levels and joined other PLCs.

     When I joined my current junior team (just this year), the PLC experience became a much more positive one for me. Our team is effective for a variety of reasons. The first is that we are a “self-selected.” When several teachers moved from junior English to other grade levels, there were several openings; those of us who enjoy working together asked to teach juniors, knowing we all wanted to collaborate, keep up with the latest research, and think outside the box. When people are simply put together based solely on what they teach, there is no guarantee the team will function well—there has to be more “buy in” in order to become an effective discourse community.

      The second reason our PLC works well is because we share “thinking, acting, interacting, valuing, feeling, and using symbols” (Gee 13). While none of share the same brain and we all have our own ideas, our interactions are based on mutual respect. We have all agreed to separate ideas and people; we refrain from personalizing and judging. We typically come to decisions by consensus, but there are times when what works for one teacher won’t work for another, and we allow for this autonomy. For example, I have a student teacher this semester; two of her requirements are writing lesson plans and designing assessments, etc. Some of what she needs to do does not fit neatly into what the other four members are doing. In that case, we go our separate ways—so to speak—but find common ground in other areas. My student teacher designed and is teaching a unit on “debate,” while my colleagues are teaching students to write a problem/solution essay. To a marked degree, we are all teaching to the same standards (the “what”), but have gone in different directions with the learning activities (the “how”). What will inform our teaching will be the results we obtain from our students, which will be comparable because we are measuring the same English standards.

Wednesday Morning Junior English PLC Meeting
Rebeca, me, Jenny, and Katie

     A third reason this PLC works well is because we all value the importance of being open to making changes in our teaching according to the changing needs of our students. The traditional teaching model (“the sage on the stage”) no longer works for most students. We are currently reading “Project-based Writing” by Liz Prather and collaborating on several projects that allow students to use their reading, writing, and research skills in more engaging ways, such as designing/writing public service announcements, designing virtual museums, designing products made from 50% recycled materials.

     Jenny, Katie, and I have asked to continue teaching Junior English next year (Rebeca is a student teacher who will not be at our school next year), in part because we work so well together. We are trying new things and--even though Jenny and I are digital immigrants--we are working to find new ways to teach English to our students that make them more members of a discourse community than mere "recipients of information."

    * I am including a link to a 4 minute tedtalk on Professional Learning Communities by Richard DuFour. You may find it useful, particularly if you are new to PLCs or struggling to make one work well.

https://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=Professional+Learning+Communities%2c+tedtalk&view=detail&mid=4A1F0B4FC46BD0BA89974A1F0B4FC46BD0BA8997&FORM=VIRE

     Next Week's Blog: Writing a Grant

Works Cited

“Discourses and Social Languages.” An Introduction to Discourse Analysis: Theory and Method,

     James Paul Gee. Routledge, 2014.


DuFour, Richard. “What Is a Professional Learning Community?” Educational

     Leadership, vol. 61, no. 8, May 2004, pp. 6–11. Academic Search Complete [EBSCO].


Porter, James E. “Intertextuality and the Discourse Community.” Rhetoric Review, vol. 5, 1986,

     pp. 34–47. Academic Search Complete [EBSCO].

"Tribal Leadership" (tedtalk)

I thought some of you might enjoy this tedtalk by David Logan. It's about 16 minutes long, but it is tangentially related to some of the issues I will be discussing on this blog. If you watch it,
let me know what you think!

David Logan: "Tribal Leaderhip"

https://www.ted.com/talks/david_logan_on_tribal_leadership

"What Teachers Make"

This week, I was reminded of Taylor Mali's poem, "What Teachers Make." Many of you have probably seen this before, but this is a fabulous "go to" when you're having "one of those days." If you are not familiar with this, I think you will enjoy it.

"What Teachers Make"

Blog 1: Real Communication vs. Information Dissemination

   If you’re anything like I am, you start your workday by checking your e-mail, and you probably do this for purely pragmatic reasons—not social. The information you need is there, and if you don’t check, you may be missing out on something essential for your day. As you peruse through the dozens of e-mails you’ve received over the past 14 hours since you left work, though, you can’t process it all. This morning, for example, I found 15 e-mails waiting for me: two were purely informational (but only one of them actually applied to me), one was the day’s school announcements, one was an invitation to a special luncheon, three were from the district office, one was a request from Questbridge, two were from students requesting college recommendation letters, and the rest were invitations for various planning, committee, and special education meetings. Whew! And that was all before 7:00 a.m.!

     Just a decade or so ago, most important information (with the exception of daily announcements) was shared in weekly staff meetings, involving face-to-face contact and conversations, and question/answer time. Even though the communication was “top-down,” with the principal in charge of the meeting, being together “in person” felt—and was, in fact—more organic in nature. Ideas came from the “tribes” who sat together and collaborated during the meetings, and there was a sense of belonging and interconnectedness that came from gathering weekly. Much of the emails I receive now are examples of “mass” communication (the email is going to the entire English Department, school staff, or even district staff). There is so much information (and much of it doesn’t even apply to me), that I often tune out and end up not reading the parts I need to know. Let’s face it—the brain can only process so much information at one time. This is exactly what Peter Drucker observes in his chapter, “Functioning Communications” from The Essential Drucker: “The noise level has gone up so fast that no one can really listen anymore . . . there is clearly less and less (sic) communicating (261). He’s so right!       

    As the recipient of all of this “communication,” I wonder about the people who are responsible for sending it. In a school, most of it comes from administrators, which means administrators are spending a great deal of their time writing e-mails, announcements, etc. With the amount of written communication required of them, what are their feelings about it? Do they find it to be valuable? What strategies do they use to address different audiences? To partially find answers to these question, I sat down with one of the assistant principals at the high school where I teach, "Mr. Adams," to discuss the kinds of writing he engages in as an administrator in charge of 700 sophomores and “activities,” and his observations about communication in such a big institution.

     Mr. Adams told me he uses writing as a primary communication tool with a number of intended audiences, including fellow administrators, teachers, parents, and various community members and organizations. His writing includes: 

• E-mails (to a number of different recipients)
• Teacher Evaluations
• Announcements (to teachers, students, parents, community)
• Letters/Notes to SIAC (School Improvement Advisory Council)
• Letters of Reference/Recommendation for students, teachers
• Letters to community organizations and community leaders (“thank-you’s,” formal invitations, solicitation of donations)

Social media is also a communication tool used to communicate with students, parents, and the community (but may include unintended audiences). These include:

• Twitter (for athletics)
• Twitter (general information)
• District/school websites
• Youtube
• Facebook
• Peachjar
• Remind
• Canvas (learning management system which includes the day’s announcements)

      With all these communication tools, one would think that everyone in the school would be up to date on the latest information, but that is not the case. As Mr. Adams noted, there are more avenues for communication than ever before; however, he observed, communication can turn into “over communication.” When teachers have too many e-mails to read (particularly if they are all on the same topic), they tend to hit “delete,” instead of reading them all. Adams’ observation mirrors what Peter Drucker observes about there being “less and less communicating.”

       Mr. Adams believes “one-on-one, face-to-face” communication is best, but with 2,500 students, their families, over 200 employees, and numerous administrators and community members with which to communicate, it is not always possible. Adams believes there are some benefits to written communication. It is often easier for people to read and process information at their leisure, than it is to listen on demand and process. Adams notes that because everyone filters information differently, the recipients don’t always perceive the message in the way it was intended. Because of this, he tries to ensure his message is unequivocal, observing, “Ambiguous information is frustrating, and makes others’ jobs harder.”

     Written communication in a public school involves audiences with a plethora of possible constraints, presenting administrators with communication challenges. My high school is a Title One school, with 59% of the students on “free or reduced” lunch. Of the 2,500 students in attendance (grades 9- 12), 54% are Caucasian, 36% Hispanic, 4% African-American, 3% Native American, and 3% “other,” and the graduation rate hovers at around 70%, far below the national average of 80%. Adams said that “purpose, tone, and audience” drive his approach to writing. This is in line with Lloyd Bitzer’s “rhetorical situation,” which includes “exigence, audience, and constraints (220). A great deal of the time, Adams’ purpose is to inform parents of something they need to know about (although, arguably, the school’s sense of exigence may not be the same as parents’). He finds that keeping the tone of his writing as neutral as possible helps keep people focused on the issue at hand and reduces miscommunication. For example, with a drop-out rate of approximately 30%, Adams must notify parents when their teens are struggling, or are in danger of losing credits due to poor grades or excessive absences. Instead of focusing on the “failure” of the student (which parents sometimes construe as their failures, as well), Adams simply focuses on solutions—credit recovery, summer school, distance learning (via computer), extra tutoring, etc. Regardless of the reasons for contacting students and/or parents, however, making sure the message gets to the appropriate people cab be difficult, at best, especially those parents who have difficulty reading Adam's writing.

     Adams notes that many of our students’ parents do not speak/read English, and a great many others have poor reading skills, or are illiterate in English. This is where knowing the audience is essential. He often has his writing translated into Spanish by a qualified translator, and tries to find numerous ways to send the same messages so that—with any luck—those parents who can’t read well will get the message through word of mouth.

     For me, the question becomes, “With all this writing, are we actually communicating better than in the past, or simply passing on more and more information?” Most of what Mr. Adams and I write for our respective jobs is purely informational. At least eighty-five percent of it does not even require anything remotely resembling “two-communication.” The message is passed on, and, often, vanishes into the abyss . . . As Drucker notes, “Information is purely formal and has no meaning . . . [it is] impersonal rather than interpersonal” (264). Drucker also asserts, “The more information . . . the greater is the communications gap likely to be” (266).

     Of note, even teachers are having less face-to-face communication with students. With learning management programs in hybrid classes (Canvas, Blackboard, e.g.) and on-line cases, fewer students and teachers are forging personal relationships. On my high school campus, all students have computers and all classes have Canvas accounts, so much of the teaching in on the computer. While this is great preparation for students (and an ideal place for teaching media literacy skills), sometimes teachers and students view computers as a replacement for talking, rather than the tool it is. Some teachers in my school, in fact, have all of their lesson on Canvas, and run their classrooms as if they were engaged in distance learning rather than "hybrid" classes. Last year, I did something incredibly ridiculous myself. I asked students to engage in a discussion on-line with the very people they were sitting next to. When I reflected on this, I realized that I had completely missed the point of on-line discussions. They are for people who are NOT in the same place! If I want my students to have a discussion, and they're in the same room, it only makes sense to have them speaking to each other.

Next Week's Blog: The Importance of Teacher Discourse Communities

Works Cited

Bitzer, Lloyd F. "The Rhetorical Situation." Philosophy and Rhetoric, vol. 1, 1968, pp. 1-14.

"Functioning Communications." The Essential Drucker: The Best Sixty Years of Peter Drucker's

     Essential Writings on Management, by Peter Ferdinand Drucker, Harper Business, 2003.