The Journey of Seeing: Final Reflections on Writing and Teaching


As I wrap up this blog series, I look back at a profoundly changed understanding of what it means to write and to teach writing. What began as classroom exercises became personal revelations about guiding students authentically through the creative process. From dissecting the Six + One Traits to crafting and then revising my own descriptive work challenged to “show, not tell” each lesson peeled back a layer of what writing truly demands: patience, presence, and purpose.

Working through the process myself, I learned that writing cannot be rushed. Ideas need space to grow. Images require time to clarify. Revision needs breathing room not as mere correction, but as discovery. This is what my future students deserve: the freedom to write at their own pace, to revisit their drafts, and to reshape their thinking without the pressure to “finish in one lesson.”

The most powerful shift came in understanding that writing isn’t just about telling a story, it’s about creating an experience. As Chekhov wrote, “Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.” This series taught me to search for those glints, the precise, sensory details that make words come alive.

As I close this chapter, I feel more prepared than ever to foster a classroom where writing is not an assignment, but a journey. A place where students learn their voices matter, where drafts are seen as steppingstones, and where revision is recognized as the space where real magic happens.

If I carry one thing forward, it is this: great writing grows when we slow down enough to truly see and then help our students see it, too.

Thank you for following along. Your thoughtful presence has made this journey all the more meaningful.

 




I Fell for Grenada: A Podcast Story That Will Make You Laugh Out Loud!


In this episode of Moments That Made Me, I share a hilarious but powerful school memory, falling flat on my face in front of the entire assembly on the very morning I was supposed to sing the National Anthem. From the proud walk to the dramatic tumble, this story mixes humour, honesty, and heart. Listen as I turn an embarrassment into empowerment and reminding us that every stumble has a lesson hidden inside it.


 

When the "Spice Isle" Decided to Spice Things Up

 Hello everyone and welcome back to my page.

"Ever had one of those travel moments that starts as a simple detour and turns into a mini adventure? That’s exactly what happened to us on a sunny afternoon in Grand Anse, Grenada.

We took a wrong turn, and suddenly, the familiar tourist map dissolved into a maze of narrow, winding roads. The lush greenery, once beautiful, started to feel like walls closing in. This short digital story video captures that specific, slightly tense, but ultimately beautiful moment of being genuinely lost.

It’s a reminder that even on a small island, adventure (and a little disorientation) is always just around the corner. Have you ever been lost in a beautiful place?"






















A Boat Trip that did not go as Planned




Hello everyone, welcome to an episode of Jill's Room. This digital story was created on the 24th of November, 2025. I hope you enjoy it.  





 




Show, Don't Tell: The Magic of Revision and a Second Chance

 Hello again!

Just when I thought I had some level of mastery in descriptive writing, our lecturer circled back for a follow-up class. We were given the opportunity to revisit our original piece or begin anew with one clear reminder: our descriptive should “Show the reader, not just tell.” Hearing that as a student, while revisiting my own draft, gave the phrase a whole new meaning. My first piece described a serene natural setting in my parish, but it told the reader it was peaceful and beautiful instead of showing why.


This time, I had to think like a filmmaker, not a reporter. Instead of writing “It was peaceful,” I asked myself, what does peace look or sound like? Maybe it’s the gentle ripple of water against smooth stones or the soft rustle of leaves swaying in the morning breeze. That shift from judgment to sensory detail transformed my writing from a statement into an experience.

As Anton Chekhov famously said, “Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.” That quote perfectly captured what our lecturer wanted us to understand: good writing invites readers to see and feel the moment for themselves.

As a teacher, I’ll carry this forward by helping my students move beyond describing to truly showing. I’ll create space for revision, use sensory “camera lens” exercises, and remind them that writing isn’t about rushing to the final draft, it’s about discovery. When students slow down, observe, and revise, their words begin to paint the scene, not just explain it.


The Magic of Descriptive Writing

 

Have you ever read a story that felt so real you could almost smell the chocolate cake, hear the rain tapping on the roof, or feel the sand between your toes? That is the power of descriptive writing, it shows you what is happening instead of simply telling you. It turns plain sentences into living pictures that dance in your mind. As a teacher, I want my students to see that writing is not just about words on a page, it is about using their senses and imagination to make readers feel like they are right there in the story.

Descriptive writing is like painting with words, it does not tell you the picture; it shows it right before your eyes. Instead of saying, “The classroom was messy,” imagine writing, “Pencils lounged across the floor like lazy sunbathers, and a forgotten sandwich sat on a desk, quietly growing its own rainforest.” Now that is a scene your reader can smell, unfortunately!

In my classroom, I plan to make descriptive writing an adventure. Picture this: students close their eyes while I drop mystery items into a “feely box.” They must describe what they touch using only sensory clues: texture, temperature, shape, maybe even smell (though I promise to avoid anything too suspicious). Words like “soft,” “rough,” and “spiky” will soon evolve into “as smooth as melted butter” or “as prickly as a porcupine.”

Next, we will play the “Show, Do Not Tell” game. I might say, “Show me someone who is tired,” and instead of writing “He was tired,” students might write, “His eyes drooped like heavy curtains, and his yawn swallowed half the classroom.”

Finally, we will turn our classroom into a “Descriptive Café.” Students will describe their favorite foods, but without naming them. Can anyone guess the dish from its description? It will be a delicious exercise for both the mind and imagination.

Descriptive writing is not just about adjectives, it is about awakening the senses and breathing life into ideas. When students learn to show rather than tell, their writing will sparkle, their readers will smile, and their stories will leap off the page, just like that rainforest sandwich.



From the Student's Desk: What Writing Slowly Taught Me About Teaching

 Thinking back to last week LIT 102 class, I was reminded what it feels like to be a student again. Our lecturer asked us to do something simple yet profound: select a topic and write a descriptive piece by following the writing process in forty minutes. No shortcuts, no rushed drafts just the quiet, sometimes messy, journey from idea to finished product.


As I worked through each stage, I couldn’t help but think back to my past classroom, when I often hurried my students to finish their writing pieces within a single lesson. Operating under the tyranny of the clock. I had units to cover, deadlines to meet, and a finished product to grade. I now realize that by doing so, I was unintentionally limiting my student's creativity and depth of expression. 

Writing isn’t about producing a perfect final piece it’s about giving students the space to explore ideas, make mistakes, and refine their thoughts. Each stage had a purpose: brainstorming helped me find my voice, revising taught me to refine my ideas, and editing reminded me of the importance of clarity. Listening to my colleagues share their pieces in class also helped me appreciate how different writers can bring unique perspectives to the same task. This is the experience I want to give to my students.

Now I know better, I intend to do better. So, in my future teaching, I want to create an environment where students can move through the writing process at their own pace, enjoying each step without feeling rushed. Even if we only complete part of the process in one lesson, I want them to experience the satisfaction of growing as writers. This experience reminded me that when we slow down and let students find their rhythm, their writing and confidence truly blossoms.

Descriptive World Through The Hands of Writing

 


This week in LIT class, we visited the world of descriptive writing, and I had the chance to experience it in a way that was both exciting and on the spot. The task was clearly stated. I had to choose a topic of interest and write about it within forty minutes. When I heard that I had only 40 minutes, my mind froze for a moment, and I attempted to multitask between different activities. With my head down, I struggled to discover the right words. Aha, but I soon discovered what I wanted to write about. I started sketching my web organizer to help me focus my thoughts and ideas for the writing piece. I tried my best to capture all the moments from my memories, feelings, and experiences that allow the reader to live it through my lines.

I decided to write about a memorable trip or vacation that impacted me. Before I began writing, mapping out my ideas supported and guided me to see the bigger picture as I moved from one detail to another. What I noticed, almost immediately, was how the ideas started to flow smoothly when writing about something you genuinely loved. Therefore, interest in a topic fuels descriptive writing.

The web greatly aided me in my writing process. The process itself proved to be both challenging and enlightening. I found myself rereading, revising, and editing far more than I expected. Every sentence required meticulous attention; I had to take into account the clarity, imagery, and the way my words evoked a picture for the reader. It was tedious at times, but in those moments, I truly understood the importance of giving writing time. Writing is not something you rush; writing evolves. I also saw firsthand how crucial it is to expose students to reading different genres of books to foster a love for reading, because reading shows what effective writing looks like and builds vocabulary with new words that can be used to improve your writing. Therefore, a competent writer not only reads but also writes effectively. These traits are guides that can help your writing gain depth and precision.

This experience was an “aha” moment for me. It reminded me that the challenges I faced while writing, struggling to identify the right words, revising endlessly, searching for clarity are experiences that students, too, encounter. Gave a deeper understanding of how writing requires three essential elements: patience, persistence, and practice. It is not always easy, but it is always worth it.

By the end of the session, I felt the words of this song: "Walk a mile in my shoes." I have not only written a piece about a favorite place; I have also explored my relationship with writing and discovered that the process is messy, challenging, and iterative, making it just as important as the final product.

 

Forty Minutes of Embarrassment and Enlightenment

 


When Dr. ABC walked into class with a mischievous smile and projected a list of descriptive writing topics. I had no idea how much fun and chaos those next forty minutes would bring. The instructions were simple: choose a topic, write nonstop for forty minutes. follow the writing process and just write. It sounded easy enough until I saw the topic I couldn’t resist: An embarrassing moment in my life.”

Naturally, I chose to relive the day I fell flat in front of the entire school assembly while walking up to sing the national anthem. I could almost hear the collective gasp, followed by that unmistakable wave of laughter. As I wrote, the memory replayed in slow motion, my confident stride, the traitorous step, and my heroic attempt to pretend it never happened.

The task was both thrilling and challenging. It pushed me to think quickly, organize my ideas on the spot, and still make the story flow. The forty minutes gave met the luxury of time to plan, draft, and revise at the same time. Yet, that rush of writing under pressure reminded me of the creative joy in spontaneous writing.

By the end of the exercise, I realized something important: as teachers, we often expect our students to produce polished pieces on their first try. But writing, real writing, takes process, reflection, and revision. This forty-minute whirlwind helped me understand how pressured our students might feel when asked to “just write.”

Still, the class was a delightful blend of laughter, learning, and a few cringes. Who knew that one embarrassing fall years ago would turn into a moment of growth in a writing class?




Beyond "And Then": Assessing a Narrative and Planning the Next Step

 

Fresh off my deep dive into the 6+1 Traits, I had a chance to apply this diagnostic lens to a new piece of student writing: titled "The Day at the Beach." I love how assessing writing gives me a glimpse into how a child thinks and expresses themselves not just what they can do, but how they bring their ideas to life. This piece is a perfect example of a writer in the developing stage, full of potential and clear next steps. Assessing it confirmed that the Traits are not for grading, but for guiding.

Right away, I noticed the student’s voice and enthusiasm shining through. I can feel their excitement about going to the beach with their friend, taking the bus, unpacking, eating, and swimming. The story has a clear focus and a nice flow of ideas, which shows that the student has a strong sense of what they want to say. That confidence and ownership are so important, and it’s something I’d definitely want to encourage more of.

At the same time, I noticed areas that need support particularly sentence fluency, organization, and conventions. The frequent repetition of phrases like “and when” made the story sound a bit choppy, and spelling and grammar issues sometimes interrupted the flow. Still, I see these not as problems, but as opportunities for growth that can be addressed through targeted mini-lessons.


For a mini-lesson, I’d focus on using transition words and combining sentences to make the story flow more smoothly. We could revise a few lines together to show how small changes can make a big difference.

Gentle reminder to my future teacher self and my fellow teachers, remember to always look beyond the errors and see the writer’s effort and creativity. Every draft holds potential; our role is to nurture it. Keep building a classroom where feedback feels like encouragement and where every child believes they are a writer in progress.

Case Study: Supporting a Grade Three Student in Narrative Writing

 

I must start by saying how much I appreciate the practice Dr. Charles has been giving us in analyzing students’ writing. Prior to this experience, I struggled to come to grips with students' writing and was uncertain about my ability to analyze it effectively. Writing once felt like just a topic for students to respond to, without a clear focus on development. Now, I can see how I can support students in improving their writing by addressing specific issues through strategies like the writer’s workshop and targeted feedback. This practice has taught me how to read a student’s writing to identify strengths and weaknesses as well as areas for growth. I can focus on one issue at a time, knowing that I can build on the others later.




In this case, the student, a Grade Three learner, submitted a narrative titled “A Day at the Beach.” My groupmates and I identified from the outset that the student demonstrated a clear understanding of the topic and maintained a consistent primary tone throughout the piece. The purpose was evident: the student wanted to share a personal experience of visiting the beach, describing what they did before arriving and their activities during the visit. Their handwriting was legible, and their voice was confident, which showed both ownership and engagement. The ending, however, felt abrupt, which slightly reduced the impact of the narrative. For example, the student wrote, I won the swimming rac and when we go ont of the water…..

Upon closer examination, several areas required attention, including grammar, punctuation, and sentence structure, which were inconsistent. Many sentences were run-ons due to missing full stops, which affected the flow and readability. The lack of transitional words limited the cohesion between ideas. While the narrative conveyed the student’s experience, these issues interrupted the rhythm and made the story less fluent. Reflecting on this, I realized that conventions are not just mechanical rules. They help the reader to pause, breathe, and connect with the writer’s meaning.

To address these challenges, we created a one-on-one conferencing session rather than a traditional mini-lesson. During the conference, the student would be asked to reread his writing aloud, listening carefully for natural pauses. This strategy encourages self-monitoring and allows the student to identify areas where punctuation could improve sentence structure. I anticipated that as the student reread his sentences, he would begin to notice where long sentences needed to be divided and where punctuation was missing. I expected that hearing his sentences aloud would help him to recognize these issues and understand how full stops and proper punctuation improve clarity.

By the end of the conference, I predicted that the student would begin to pause naturally in their sentences, apply punctuation more consistently, and gradually develop the ability to self-monitor their writing. In a later draft, I expected that this approach would build the student’s confidence and independence, helping them become more intentional and thoughtful writers.

In reflection, I realized that guiding the student to discover his errors fostered engagement, self-confidence, and ownership over his work. It reminded me that even small, targeted interventions can create meaningful growth when combined with careful observation and reflection. Moving forward, I feel better equipped to analyze student writing, pinpoint areas for improvement, and provide support that strengthens both skills and creative voice due to the much-needed practice I have received.

Finding Their Voice: The Magic of Word Choice in the Classroom

Every day in my classroom, I listen to voices, some loud and confident, others shy and hesitant, and a few that whisper their thoughts only through their writing. What fascinates me most is how each child has something unique to say; they just need the right words to say it. That’s where voice and word choice come together like melody and rhythm in a song.

Voice gives writing its personality. It allows students to express who they are, their humour, their opinions, their emotions, and their imagination. When a student writes, “My puppy looks like a cloud that forgot to float,” I hear not just a sentence but a vivid spark of creativity. Their authentic voice turns an ordinary piece into something alive and personal.

Word choice, on the other hand, is the tool that shapes that voice. Choosing the perfect word can transform plain writing into something powerful. It’s the difference between “I was sad” and “My heart drooped like a wet leaf.” In my classroom, we explore synonyms, sensory words, and “sparkle” vocabulary, not just to sound fancy, but to make meaning deeper and clearer. 

Together, voice and word choice empower students to see writing as more than rules and grammar it becomes self-expression. When they realize their words can make someone laugh, imagine, or even think differently, they begin to write with purpose. As their teacher, my joy is watching them discover that their voice matters and that the words they choose can change how others see the world.

In the end, teaching voice and word choice is not just about better writing, it’s about nurturing confident communicators who believe their ideas are worth sharing.







The Diagnostic Lens: Using the 6+1 Traits to Nurture an Unfinished Story

 

Just when I thought my teaching toolkit was getting full, my learning deepened again. This week’s exploration of the Six + One Traits of Writing (V.I.P. C.O.W.S.): voice, ideas, organization, word choice, sentence fluency, conventions, and presentation, deepened my understanding of what effective writing instruction looks like.


Building on our previous lessons about the Writing Workshop, I now see how these traits complement that model by providing clear, focused ways to guide and assess student writing. While the Writing Workshop emphasizes time, choice, and authentic practice, the Six + One Traits offer a structured framework to help both teachers and students talk about writing with purpose.

When I analyzed Jada’s unfinished story, I realized how these two approaches work hand in hand. The workshop environment encourages creativity and ownership, while the traits give students concrete language to describe their strengths and needs. Jada’s story, for example, demonstrated strong voice and ideas, showing her curiosity and storytelling ability; from the formal introduction, "Hello, my name is Jada Stapleton," to the casual dread of "I was fast curious," her personality shines through. We feel her curiosity and fear. However, she needed support with organization and conventions to make her story flow smoothly.

What stood out most to me was how this model shifts writing instruction from correction to growth and reflection. It allows me, as a teacher, to give targeted feedback, celebrating what students do well while guiding them toward improvement. The Traits are not a stick to beat writers with, but a compass to guide them so in my future classroom, I plan to integrate the Six + One Traits into daily Writing Workshops. Students will self-assess their work using the traits, engage in peer discussions, and revise with clear goals. Together, these approaches transform writing into a process of discovery, creativity, and confidence rather than pressure and correction.

Teaching with VIP COWS: Nurturing Voice, Ideas, and Confidence in Young Writers

 



This week’s class finally brought theory and practice together. As I engaged with a sample of student writing, I found myself pulled into the student’s ideas, imagination, effort, and their little spark of creativity. Still, I noticed how a few unclear parts made it harder to follow their story. That is when I realized that clarity is not just about writing neat sentences; it is also about making the reader feel what the writer means.

The mix of brilliant ideas and tangled sentences reminded me why revision is vital. When students have ample time to revise, they do not just polish their work. Students engage in critical thinking, questioning their choices and refining their message. For instance, guiding a student to rephrase a vague sentence during revision often sparks a moment of clarity, where they take ownership of their ideas and discover their unique voice.

As I thought about ways to guide the student, I turned to the VIP COWS traits for direction. Voice, ideas, presentations, conventions, organization, word choice, and sentence fluency each serve as powerful tools for guiding young writers. I imagined a mini-lesson on Ideas, where students could brainstorm freely without limits, or one on Organization, using graphic organizers to bring order to their thoughts. The more I explored each trait, the more I realized how they depended on each other to bring writing fully to life.

Reflecting on the VIP COWS traits discussion, I realized how deeply intertwined they are in shaping a student’s writing. For example, a student with vivid ideas might struggle to convey them without a clear organizational structure. Similarly, a strong voice, infused with the student’s unique tone and personality, makes the writing resonate with the audience. This insight has inspired me to design lessons that incorporate these traits together, such as pairing brainstorming sessions with storyboarding to help students see how ideas and organization fuel each other.  I can already imagine how empowering it will be for students to see their thoughts take shape and to express their ideas with growing confidence.

Moving forward, I feel more confident about helping my students discover their writer’s voice. This writing experience keeps reminding me that writing is not a straight path; it is an exploration for both students and teachers. Reflection is what keeps us growing. And genuinely, there is nothing more fulfilling than witnessing a young writer’s joy when their words finally say exactly what they mean.

 

VI.P. C.O.W.S. : The Secret Writing Club

One sunny morning, I told my students a secret, there was a special writing club called VI.P. C.O.W.S. They gasped. “What does it stand for?” they asked eagerly. I smiled. “It’s not just any club. It’s the club that makes writing amazing! Each letter is one of the 6 + 1 Traits of Writing."

I began to tell them the story.

Once upon a time, in a school much like ours, seven friends formed a team to help students become great writers. V stood for Voice, the trait that gave each story its own personality, funny, serious, or mysterious. I was for Ideas, the heart of the message that made readers care. P meant Presentation, because even the best stories deserve to look neat and inviting.

Then came the clever cows: C.O.W.S. 

C was for Conventions, who loved spelling and punctuation and kept everything in order. O was for Organization, who arranged ideas neatly like puzzle pieces that fit just right. W stood for Word Choice, who sprinkled exciting words like “whisper,” “giggle,” and “roar” to bring writing to life. Finally, S represented Sentence Fluency, who made every line flow smoothly like a song.

Together, the VI.P. C.O.W.S. transformed plain writing into masterpieces that made readers smile, think, and imagine.

In my classroom, we invite the VI.P. C.O.W.S. to join every writing lesson. During story time, we talk about which “member” helped make a book interesting. When we write, students pick a trait to focus on, maybe “Voice” for a personal letter or “Organization” for a report. We even have posters for each trait with friendly cow characters cheering us on.

By the end of the term, my students don’t just write, they moo-ve mountains with their words!



A Letter to My Younger Self: You Know Better, So Do Better

 

Dear Younger Ms. Ettienne,

Right now, you’re probably standing in front of your class, worrying about the lesson plan. You’re focused on the objectives, the standards, and the correct way to form a paragraph. I need you to take a deep breath and listen closely. I want to give you the key to everything you're searching for: the Writing Workshop.

You will meet a boy named Jonathan, who writes a letter to his dog filled with inventive spellings like “lowniwhale.” Your old training will scream to correct the errors. But the Writing Workshop will teach you a better way. It’s not just a teaching method; it’s a philosophy that duplicates how real writers work, from conception to publication. It’s the structure that makes true differentiation not just possible, but natural.


In this workshop, children have the regular, uninterrupted time they need to think and create. They have the freedom to choose their own topics, which is why Jonathan writes with such heart about Kayla. They learn mechanics in the context of their own powerful stories, not from a disconnected worksheet. This is how you help Jonathan grow without crushing his spirit through focused mini-lessons and one-on-one conferences that meet him in his "developing" stage.

Your role will completely transform. You will stop being the gatekeeper of grammar and become a mentor who cultivates processes. The principles of the Workshop time, choice, response, and authentic context are the answer to the question you don't even know to ask yet: "How can I possibly reach every single writer?"

So, let go of the fear of messiness. The controlled chaos of the Writing Workshop is where the deepest learning happens. It is the engine that will carry every Jonathan from his first scribbles to fluent, powerful expression.

Your role is not to correct products, but to cultivate writers. The Workshop is how you do it. It is the most important tool you will ever use.

Your Wiser, Future Self

A. Ettienne


Letter To My Younger Self: Growth

                                                                                                                                                                        

Belvidere,

Carriacou,

Grenada, W.I.

 

12/10/2025

Dear Younger Me,

You are entering your first Language Arts class, holding your lesson plans and hoping your love for the subject will suffice. You feel nervous, excited, and determined to make a difference. I would like to sit next to you and share what I have learned about writing. You will soon learn that teaching writing is not just about correcting grammar and every misspelled word. Writing is another option for students to communicate their ideas and emotions. The Writer's Workshop will serve as your guide. Your weaknesses will turn into your strengths. You will write alongside your students and share your own rough drafts and uncertainties with them. 

You will learn to celebrate small wins, like the student who finally writes more than one sentence. The student who bravely shared their story and listens will grow. You will be a more patient teacher, and letting go of control will not be a challenge for you. You will learn that your task is to empower the writer, not to identify all its flaws.

 The writer’s workshop guides you to see writing as a process of discovery, where each draft teaches you more about your style, purpose, and growth as a writer.  This process involves key components: the mini-lesson, independent writing, conferencing, and sharing. The mini-lesson introduces new strategies that help you reflect on your ideas, independent writing allows you to experiment and refine your voice, conferencing provides feedback that guides thoughtful revision, and sharing connects you with your audience, helping you see the impact of your words. Together, these stages turn writing into an ongoing process of learning, improving, and expressing yourself confidently.  Students are both writers and thinkers. These steps will remind you that writing serves purposes beyond school; it is also personal, emotional, and life-changing

Therefore, my younger self, be patient. You will not accomplish everything in one session, but you will become better. Learn how to teach with love, write with bravery, and lead with compassion. Then one day, you will look back and feel proud of your progress.

Keep on writing. Keep thinking. Keep getting bigger.

Your older self, with love, thanks.

 

___________________________

J. Stafford

 

 

 

Letter to My Younger Teacher Self: Learning to Let Students Grow

 


Dear Younger Me,

I still remember you standing in front of your first classroom, red pen in hand, determined to turn every paper into perfection. You believed that correcting every mistake meant you were doing your job well. But you did not realize yet that writing is not about perfection, it is about growth.

There was that story a student wrote about his dog, full of heart, but tangled with errors. You stayed up late fixing every one. The next day, his smile faded when he saw all the red marks. That was when the lesson began, not for him, but for you.

Years later, you would meet two small but mighty tools: ARMS and CUPS. They would teach you that revision is not about what is wrong, it is about what can become stronger.

Through ARMS Add, Remove, Move, Substitute, you learned to guide students in shaping their ideas before polishing them. You will teach them that real writers do not fear change; they embrace it.

Then CUPS Capitalization, Usage, Punctuation, Spelling, reminded you that editing comes after the ideas have bloomed. It is the stage where students take pride in the details that make their work shine.

Over time, you would put away the red pen and pick up a conversation instead. You will sit beside your students, ask questions, and celebrate revisions. You will see confidence where there once was hesitation.

If I could whisper one thing to you, dear younger teacher, it would be this:

“Let them grow. Writing, like teaching, is never finished, only revised, refined, and rediscovered.”

With gratitude and grace,
Your Older Self

What a First Draft Reveals: Seeing the Writer Behind the Words

 


Learning about the writing process has really shifted how I see student writing. I’ve come to understand that writing isn’t a one-time event but a journey that unfolds over time, shaped by the nature of the task, the writer’s thinking skills, and even social factors. Every draft a child produces is a window into how they are making meaning, not just a list of mistakes. As Donald Graves once said, “Children want to write. They want to write the first day they attend school. The problem is not that they don’t want to write but that we often stop them.” This reminds me that my role is to encourage, not stifle, those early attempts.

When I look at Jonathan’s first draft, I see a child who is eager to express himself and share personal experiences. His writing shows rich ideas—he describes Kayla crying when he leaves, or leaping over the gate just to be close to the family. These details reveal creativity, imagination, and a desire to connect emotionally with his reader. At the same time, his spelling errors (like lowniwhaile for lonely while and flore for floor) and long, unpunctuated sentences show that he is still working on mechanics.

From my perspective, Jonathan is in the transitional stage of writing development. He has moved past short, simple sentences and is experimenting with longer pieces filled with detail and meaning. Yet, he still needs support with conventions like spelling, punctuation, and sentence structure before he reaches fluency. This one draft pulls together everything I’ve been learning about education theory. It’s a living example of Vygotsky's social learning; the writing is shaped by his relationship with Kayla. It shows the cognitive process of writing, pulling together memory, observation, and emotion into something meaningful.

Reflecting on this, I realize that when we assess writing, we shouldn’t only point out errors but also celebrate what the child is doing well; the creativity, voice, and effort they bring to the page. Jonathan’s draft shows that he has important stories to tell, and with encouragement, he will continue to grow in both confidence and skill as a writer. As a teacher, it is my role to nurture both the expressive and mechanical sides of writing, so students can grow into confident, skilled writers. therefore, my job as a teacher isn't to first correct "lowniwhale." It's to say, "I love the image of you and Kayla in the living room. Tell me more about that." The mechanics can be gently guided later. First, we must honor the thinker and the storyteller. By providing a safe space for this kind of authentic, staged writing, I can help students like Jonathan see that their voice matters, and that writing is the key to sharing it with the world.


Writing in Action: A Journey, Not a Straight Line



Not all writing follows a neat, linear path. An activity was done using a student's writing sample, which revealed how dynamic and unpredictable the writing process can be. Using Rog’s Stages of Writing Development (2007), I noticed that most likely the student was at the developing stage.

The writer showcased impressive skills, such as the use of high-frequency words, structured sentences, and correct use of capitalization and punctuation. All these skills demonstrated a clear sense of purpose and audience. However, the reliance on invented spelling for unfamiliar words highlighted areas needing support. This activity enlightened me that writing is not always a straight path through prewriting, drafting, revising, editing, and publishing. It is fluid, with students moving back and forth as they rethink and refine their ideas.

To support students' writing, strategies such as daily writing opportunities, brainstorming, vocabulary building, and peer review are valuable. Tools like graphic organizers help further strengthen organization. Most importantly, creating a classroom culture of feedback and collaboration can boost students' confidence and help them to become more capable writers. These experiences reminded me that behind every piece of writing lies both progress and potential, and with the right support, students can flourish as confident writers.






I gained insight into the developmental progression of writing through observation. It reminded me that every scribble, letter string, or inventive spelling represents meaningful growth. Students do not leap from drawing pictures to producing polished sentences. Students pass through stages where their marks, symbols, and attempts at letters all reflect their growing understanding of language. By recognizing and supporting students at each stage, I can better guide them forward. This perspective helps me appreciate that even the smallest attempts deserve encouragement and recognition.








The Beauty of Messy Writing: Learning Through Collaboration


 Today’s class reminded me that writing is not a neat, one-time process but rather a messy journey filled with drafts, changes, and constant rethinking. I’ve realized that writing is anything but simple or straightforward. At times, it can feel frustrating when the words don’t come out the way we want, or when our ideas seem unclear. I used to think that students’ writing had to be perfect on the first try, but now I understand that the struggle is part of learning. Writing takes time, revision, and patience and that’s okay. The messiness of the process actually shows growth, creativity, and deeper thinking.

One idea that really stood out to me was letting students proofread each other’s work. I never thought about doing this before, but it makes so much sense. Just as adults share drafts with colleagues to get feedback, students can benefit from reading and commenting on each other’s writing. I can imagine how this would give my students new perspectives, help them catch mistakes they might not notice on their own, and encourage them to try different ways of expressing their ideas. I feel excited about implementing this because it seems like it would also build confidence. Students could see that no one’s work is perfect at first, and that writing is something that improves with effort and collaboration.

Writing as a social process really resonated with me too. I’ve often thought of writing as something solitary, done quietly at a desk, but now I see how powerful it can be when students talk about their ideas, share their work, and give feedback to one another. These conversations help students learn from each other, discover new words and ways to explain ideas, and think critically about both their own writing and the writing of others. I feel inspired to create more opportunities for discussion and collaboration in my classroom, so students can experience writing as a living, social activity rather than just a solo task.

On returning to the classroom, I can see myself embracing the messy side of writing more openly. I want to model my own writing process, including the drafts and revisions, to show students that making changes is part of learning. I also want to set up regular peer review sessions where students can read each other’s work and provide thoughtful feedback. By encouraging collaboration, conversation, and multiple drafts, I hope to help students feel more comfortable with imperfection, take risks in their writing, and enjoy the process of expressing themselves. Writing doesn’t have to be perfect the first time, it can be a journey, and I want my students to experience and embrace that journey.

The Map and the Journey: My Reflection on Writing Theories and Development

 

Lately, I’ve been rethinking everything I thought I knew about teaching writing. At first, my focus was on the visible stages of children’s writing development the scribbles that actually carry meaning, the bold invented spellings, and the moment when a child suddenly “cracks the code” of letters and sounds. I used to see these stages as the whole journey. But recently from listening to discussions in class, I’ve started exploring the theories that describe the actual writing process, and it has completely shifted my perspective.

It feels like the difference between looking at a map and actually walking alongside a child on the path.

The Linear Mode: the one with neat stages like Prewriting, Drafting, Revising, Editing, and Publishing was the model that first made sense to me. It’s structured, predictable, and honestly, kind of comforting. But when I placed it next to the developmental stages of writing, I realized its limits. A young child in the emergent stage, who’s proudly writing something like “I LIK MI DG”, isn’t separating drafting from revising they’re pouring every ounce of energy into just getting those letters onto the page. To force them into a rigid step-by-step process at that moment would squash the experimentation that helps them grow.

That’s why the Cognitive Process Model from Flower and Hayes struck such a chord with me. Unlike the neat, linear steps, it feels more like a description of what’s actually happening in a child’s mind. Writing isn’t a straight road, it’s a messy, overlapping, recursive process. When I watch a child pause mid-sentence to figure out how to spell “because” I can see them juggling everything at once: thinking about what comes next, sounding out the word, and checking if it looks right. That messy struggle isn’t failure; it’s the real work of writing.

So, what does this mean for me as a teacher?

I don’t see the Linear Model as something I need to enforce anymore. Instead, I see it as a goal. For fluent writers, it’s a useful roadmap. For beginners, I might just take one part of it like talking through a story before writing it down.

The Cognitive Process Model gave me a new lens of empathy. When a child looks stuck, I now ask myself: Are they struggling with ideas (Planning)? With spelling (Translating)? With checking their work (Reviewing)? Knowing this helps me give the right kind of support instead of just saying, “Keep trying.”

More than anything, I’m reminded that writing is not just one skill it’s a symphony of thinking, remembering, moving, and creating. Each child is on their own path, and my job is to honor where they are while giving them the tools to take their next step.

For me, the developmental stages show me the child in action, while the theories give me the language to understand what’s happening underneath. My goal is to stand at the intersection of both to know the map, but still walk the journey with the child, side by side.

Fellow teachers, how do you balance process models with the reality of where your students are developmentally? I’d love to hear your strategies in the comments.

Writing as Expression and Growth 🖋📚📚


Have you ever stop to contemplate how writing is more than just words on paper? Initially, I thought writing was simply putting sentences together, but now I know it is a window into the mind, a way of showing the growth of thought, imagination, and understanding. Writing connects our ideas, experiences, and emotions, allowing us to make sense of the world and share our perspectives with others.

Within a class discussion, I became more aware that writing is not only a skill; it is both cognitive and social, which connects thinking processes in the mind with the relationships and communities shaped by culture and interaction. The topic reminded me of Rog’s stages of writing development and Vygotsky’s theory of social learning, both of which highlighted that writing grows through stages supported by interaction.

It pulled together memory, reasoning, problem-solving, and creativity into something meaningful. But reflecting on these ideas, I realized how important authentic writing experiences are. Storytelling, drawing, and other creative forms of expression allow students to explore ideas deeply and communicate them in symbolic ways.

No matter their age, students can explore further to bring their thoughts to life. This process showed me that literacy should not be taught solely as a mechanical skill. Students must also develop the ability to think critically, make connections, and express their ideas clearly. Therefore, students need to be exposed to authentic stages of writing, such as scribbling, drawing, and storytelling, so they can learn to see writing as a powerful tool for expression and connection.

As a teacher in training, I embrace this lesson. My role is not only to teach students how to write but also to help them see the world differently. When students are given the freedom to explore fully, they do not only just learn to write; they learn to see. This, in essence, will encourage students to have an even broader perspective in regard to their overall academic development.




Growing Writers: How Development Shapes Learning


As a teacher in training, I am always learning new things about how children grow and how they learn. Recently, I had the chance to explore the stages of writing development alongside the general developmental stages, and this opened my eyes in many ways. At first, I thought they were two separate areas, one about writing and the other about overall growth but now I see how closely they connect.

Both types of stages move step by step, and each stage builds on the one before it. Theorists like Piaget and Vygotsky explain how children’s thinking and learning skills develop over time, while Marie Clay and Ferreiro and Teberosky show how this same growth can be seen in children’s writing, starting from scribbles and moving toward full sentences. When I understood this connection, I realized that writing development cannot stand on its own. Children need the foundation of thinking skills before they can become confident writers.

This understanding is very important for me as a teacher. If a student is struggling with writing, it might not only be a problem with spelling or handwriting. It could also mean they are still growing in their overall development. Knowing this helps me see the bigger picture. It reminds me to be patient, to give the right support at the right time, and to match my lessons with where students are in their learning journey.

For me, this discovery makes teaching feel more meaningful. It shows me that my role is not just to teach writing skills, but to guide my students as they grow in all areas. By keeping both writing stages and developmental stages in mind, I can create lessons that are more effective, supportive, and connected to the real needs of my students. This is something I will carry with me as I continue my journey to becoming a qualified teacher.


The Journey of Seeing: Final Reflections on Writing and Teaching

As I wrap up this blog series, I look back at a profoundly changed understanding of what it means to write and to teach writing. What began ...