As promised in my last post I’ve provided here a few practical strategies for connecting your writing and reading programs: Use the same terminology for writing and reading. When writing fiction, students should use the words of literary analysis: character, setting, plot, theme, and so forth. So, too, when reading nonfiction, students should use the traits of writing: ideas, organization, voice, word choice, sentence fluency, and conventions.

Writing is essentially a solitary act wherein writers put their fingers to the keyboard or pen to paper to create something that is truly their own. But writing should also be a communal or shared activity. Most writers, in fact, do their best work when they have the support of their peers.

Education Week published an online article called “Writing to Learn” on August 27. Since I write about writing, and believe strongly in writing as a learning tool, I was interested in what the article had to say. My guess was that it would explain that writing to learn is a common strategy used in today’s classrooms—and that it is proving to be an effective learning tool for students. After all, “writing to learn” has been around a long time—at least 30 years.

Every generation has a tendency to deride the next as frivolous and lazy. Over the past decade, for example, the phrase “short attention span” has become almost cliché in reference to young people. Those of us who grew up before the Internet and cell phones remember a time when people actually read books and wrote letters to one another; now, it seems, they read only blog entries and send 140-character text messages or Twitter posts. What, oh what, is this world coming to? But wait a minute. Let’s consider a different example.

The National Writing Project (NWP) has caught my attention again. In my last blog entry, “Writing to Learn Revisited…Again,” I expressed my concern (alarm?) about an Education Week article discussing a writing-to-learn workshop for teachers in Oakland, California. As I stated, writing to learn has been around forever, and I thought it was pretty much a standard teaching strategy known about and used by most teachers.

“Don’t say the old lady screamed—bring her on and let her scream.” —Mark Twain Be more specific. Give me an example. Show, don’t tell. How often does a writing teacher write or state these words during the school year? Too many times to count, right? We’ve heard of teachers who have had special stamps made because they’ve become so tired of writing “Give me an example” on student papers.

“Education’s purpose is to replace an empty mind with an open one.” —Malcolm S. Forbes I’m big on student-centered learning. That’s why I’m such a strong proponent of using the workshop approach to help students develop their writing skills. (See my post “Writing Workshops: The Only Way to Go.”) This past week I read an encouraging post, “Teaching Without a Script,” from New York Times online.

Q. True or false: The primary theme of The Great Gatsby is the disintegration of the American Dream during the very height of material prosperity in the 1920’s. A. In the very act of asking that question, I have imposed two assumptions upon you. You ought to have read The Great Gatsby. The American Dream is related to an empty and unsatisfying material prosperity. Maybe you agree with both of those assumptions. That is not the point. I could as easily have asked the following. Q.

A recent PBS documentary about China began with these words boldly appearing on the screen: By three methods, we may learn wisdom: First, by reflection, which is noblest; Second, by imitation, which is easiest; And third, by experience, which is the bitterest. —Confucius The documentary focuses on the rapid modernization that China has experienced and will continue to pursue.

Over the course of several entries on this blog, I’ve called into question the value of traditional approaches to teaching literature. My objection has been two-fold: It’s a shame to ruin perfectly good literature by force-feeding it to students.