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writer’s workshop in which students volunteer to share what they have written。 We had a new student to the school; Al。 Al was small and; with his dimpled cheeks and baby face; he looked younger than his classmates。
In fact; when Al was first introduced to the class two weeks earlier; one student said; “You’re not in the seventh grade。 You’re a baby。 ”
To that; Al quickly responded; “I’m Al Billslington; and I am in the seventh grade。 ”
Despite his obvious courage; Al had been with us for only a short while and was still trying to fit in。 So I was a little surprised when he volunteered to read during author’s chair。 I had one of those teacher moments; when I smiled and nodded for him to read; while inside I said a silent prayer that the other students would not tease4 the new kid after he read。 The room fell silent; and Al began to read。
“If I had one wish; it would be to meet my dad。。。 ” He started out loud and clear and held the attention of my usually restless seventh graders as he read on for what seemed like fifteen minutes。 He told of how he had never known his father; who had left the family when Al was a baby。 He shared the intimate details of his struggles to be the only man in the house at such a young age; of having to mow the lawn and fix broken pipes。 He revealed to us the thoughts that raced through his mind constantly about where his father might be and why he might have left。txt电子书分享平台
我之所以教书(3)
My eyes scanned5 the room for snickering faces of seventh…grade kids who I knew were prone to jump at a weakness and try to crack a joke; but there were no snickers。 There were no rolling eyes or gestures insinuating boredom or pending attacks。 All of my seventh…grade students were listening; really listening。 Their eyes
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