Many students see literary analysis as guessing what the teacher is thinking.
The problem wasn’t that my students couldn’t think deeply. They didn’t yet have a framework for asking productive questions.
Like many teachers, I started with existing critical theory resources. They were academically accurate, but I found they didn’t give high school students enough guidance or help them understand why the lenses mattered in the first place.
Critical lenses aren’t about memorizing theory. They’re about learning different ways to approach a text.
Critical lenses don’t change the text—they change what we notice.
Different readers naturally notice different things in a text. We all bring our experiences, beliefs, biases, and identities to what we read. However, trying on different critical lenses allows us to develop stronger interpretations and more valuable insights. More importantly, they help us develop empathy and understanding for others. That’s one of the reasons I believe critical lenses belong in every English classroom, not just AP Literature.
Students need to see a model for how to read using critical lenses. They benefit from a common text, ideally something short that everyone is reading together and that invites a variety of interpretations. I used to use The Great Gatsby because students typically read it the year before AP Literature, and they are mostly familiar with it. However, I discovered that not all my students read it, and not all the students who had remembered it could recall it well enough. Once I realized students needed to experience critical lenses before defining them, I stopped looking for a text and started looking for a common experience.
Enter American Gothic.
Instead of beginning with literary theory, I begin with one familiar image.
Most students are familiar with this painting, but they don’t even have to have seen it before for this activity to work. I essentially take students through each of the critical lenses I’ve found most helpful and ask them questions about what they see through each lens. If students are stuck, I might guide them to notice a few things. For example, when using a Feminist Lens, I might suggest the figures’ placement and clothing reveal something about their gender roles. When using an Ecocritical Lens, I might suggest the only nature visible is a set of manicured trees, relegated to the periphery of the canvas.
Students look at the same painting repeatedly. Only the questions change. The image stays the same. That’s when they realize what a critical lens actually is: a different way of seeing the text.
Every year, there’s a moment when the room changes. For my students, it often happens during the Queer Theory example. They suddenly realize that the painting hasn’t changed—their thinking has. More specifically, the questions they’re asking have changed.
After I hit upon this method for teaching critical lenses, I guide students through
learning individual lenses
to choosing a lens
to comparing lenses
to combining lenses
to writing through a lens
As a result, their analysis was sharper. One student shared that she wished she had learned critical lenses years ago. She said, “It would have saved me so much time getting started with a literary analysis!”
After years of refining this sequence in my own classroom, I finally organized it into a complete Critical Lenses curriculum. It includes the modeling lesson, teacher guide, student handouts, application activities, and planning tools I use to help students become more thoughtful, independent literary readers. If you’re looking for a way to help students move beyond plot summary and begin asking richer questions about literature, I hope this resource helps your students experience the same “aha!” moment mine do every year.
This site and resource are not affiliated with or endorsed by the College Board.
One of the biggest challenges of teaching Never Let Me Go isn’t helping students understand the plot. The plot is fairly straightforward. Students tend to have more difficulty understanding how to read the novel.
Many students approach the book as if it were a mystery. They spend the first half asking, “What’s really going on?” and become frustrated by the unanswered questions. While curiosity is part of Ishiguro’s design, it’s not the novel’s primary challenge.
The real challenge is learning to read Kathy’s narration, which makes it perfect for teaching the AP® Lit CED skills on narration:
4. A Identifyanddescribe the narrator or speaker of a text.
4. B Identifyandexplain the function of point of view in a narrative.
4. C Identifyanddescribe details, diction, or syntax in a text that reveal a narrator’s or speaker’s perspective.
4. D Explainhowa narrator’sreliabilityaffects a narrative.
Students often assume that if a narrator leaves things out, they’re being deceptive. Kathy isn’t lying to readers. Instead, she remembers selectively, revisits events with new understanding, and tells her story through the imperfect lens of memory.
That distinction changes everything.
Instead of asking “what happened?”, students begin asking:
Why does Kathy remember this?
What doesn’t she fully understand?
What is Ishiguro asking readers to infer?
Once I realized this, I stopped organizing my unit around plot developments and started organizing it around interpretive moves.
Each lesson asks students to practice a different way of reading:
noticing what is withheld
examining how memory shapes meaning
investigating emotional subtext
tracing patterns of delayed revelation
building literary arguments from inference rather than summary
The goal becomes helping students learn how to read the novel rather than simply finish it.
When students begin reading Kathy’s narration instead of chasing answers, they notice that the novel’s emotional power doesn’t come from surprising revelations.
It comes from the gradual realization that readers, like Kathy herself, have been living with an incomplete understanding all along.
That’s a much richer reading experience, and it leads to more thoughtful discussions and stronger analytical writing.
That shift in my thinking became the foundation for my inquiry-based Never Let Me Go unit.
The resource includes seven lessons built around narration, memory, identity, structure, and ethical inquiry, along with original activities, writing instruction, Socratic seminar materials, quizzes, and teacher resources designed for AP Literature, IB Literature, and advanced high school English courses.
If you’re looking for a unit that helps students move beyond plot summary and into genuine literary interpretation, I hope you’ll find it useful.
This site and resource are not affiliated with or endorsed by the College Board.
I first heard about TPCASTT from Lisa Huff and shared the resource on my blog 15 years ago. It works really well for giving students a starting place for analyzing poetry. It helped me solve a problem I was having when teaching poetry: how do students start analyzing poetry?
I’m still using TPCASTT in my classroom all these years later. However, I’m not using it in quite the same way.
TPCASTT reduces anxiety for students who feel intimidated by poetry. It forces students to read closely and re-read, which is essential for poetry. Students need to contemplate the poem’s title. They need to synthesize their learning. It builds analytical habits that move students beyond summarizing the text. If a student has no entry point into a poem, TPCASTT still provides one of the most reliable scaffolds I know.
However, in the years I’ve used TPCASTT, I’ve uncovered some limitations. It can become mechanical; students may go through the steps in the formula without really thinking. It can also emphasize completion over insight. Students might arrive at interesting ideas, but feel compelled to fill in every part of the worksheet rather than pursue those ideas further.
Students sometimes delay thinking about the poem until they’ve gone through all the steps, which can get in the way of genuine interpretation. Over time, I realized some students were analyzing poems without actually experiencing them.
Students also get stuck on some of the steps. For example, paraphrasing can trip students up. While I understand the rationale, I often encourage students to summarize instead—focusing on what’s essential rather than translating line by line. “Connotation” encourages students to look beyond the literal, but it’s not always the most accessible term for what I want them to do: examine figurative language and layers of meaning. I’ve seen some teachers adapt the acronym (for example, TPFASTT) to reflect that shift.
TPCASTT can also result in formulaic statements about theme (“The theme is that…”), often without much depth. Occasionally, students even reference the tool itself in their writing, which defeats the purpose. The goal is for TPCASTT to support analysis, not become the analysis.
Another challenge is that not all poems fit neatly into the structure. Students sometimes try to shoehorn a poem into the formula rather than using the formula to better understand the poem.
Because of these limitations, I’ve made a few shifts in how I use TPCASTT.
The first shift was making it optional rather than mandatory. I introduce it as one of several tools for analyzing poetry. I emphasize that if it’s getting in the way, students can adapt it or try a different approach. That said, it remains especially helpful for students who are newer to poetry or who feel stuck.
Another shift is that I don’t start with TPCASTT. Instead, we read the poem—often more than once. I begin with open-ended questions like “What do you notice?” and “What do you wonder?” The first reading is about experiencing the poem: noticing patterns, reacting, and annotating. If we use TPCASTT, it comes after that initial engagement, not before.
I also encourage students to compress or combine steps. Students sometimes assume each step should become a paragraph in an essay, which leads to formulaic writing. In reality, some steps naturally belong together. For example, title and theme often connect, and what TPCASTT calls “connotation” and “attitude” can merge into a discussion of tone and meaning.
I prioritize discussion over completion. Rather than focusing on filling out a worksheet, we spend more time asking questions like, “Where do you see a shift?” or “What feels different here?” or “What is the speaker really wrestling with?” These questions tend to generate more meaningful analysis than completing each step in order.
Over time, I’ve also added a few elements that TPCASTT doesn’t explicitly address. I try to build in more space for students to generate their own questions about a poem. I encourage multiple interpretations rather than pushing toward a single “correct” theme. We talk more about why a poem matters—what it says about human experience and why it might still resonate.
Sometimes, that also means reading the poem aloud, more than once, and paying attention to how it sounds. Tone, rhythm, and meaning often emerge more clearly when students hear the poem rather than just see it on the page.
After all these years, I still find TPCASTT useful. It’s a strong starting point, especially for students who need structure. But I’m less interested now in whether students can “do TPCASTT” correctly and more interested in whether they can sit with a poem long enough to make meaning from it.
TPCASTT helped my students—and me—learn how to begin. Fifteen years later, I think of it as one way in, not the way in.
If you still use TPCASTT, I’d love to hear how your approach has evolved.
Feel free to download this TPCASTT Reimagined handout for use with your students.
Believe it or not, Mrs. Dallowaymight be one of my favorite books to teach. It definitely presents many challenges. It doesn’t divide neatly into chapters. It’s non-linear. It’s written in a stream of consciousness. Students struggle with it. Honestly, many teachers struggle with it! Common approaches, such as teaching the traditional plot arc (Freytag’s Pyramid) or teaching character development, simply don’t work with Mrs. Dalloway. The real difficulty students face when reading this novel is that they don’t understand its structure. The problem isn’t that students can’t read Mrs. Dalloway. It’s that they don’t yet know how to read a novel that isn’t built like a novel they’ve seen before.
The key move for me was to approach the novel’s structure rather than teach its style. While Woolf is experimenting stylistically in this novel, she’s doing much more than trying out stream of consciousness. She is playing with time and perspective. Characters’ thoughts turn to the past and move back to the present as seamlessly as our own. She follows the thoughts of several characters all at once. Moments that take place over seconds are stretched across pages. She juxtaposes the past and the present, characters, and events. Patterns reveal themselves. Once students see the structure, the novel becomes readable.
I approach teaching Mrs. Dalloway with three strands: Time and the Persistence of Memory; Sanity, Illness, and Social Authority; and Social Performance and Private Identity. These strands converge at the novel’s end when Clarissa learns of Septimus’s death at her party.
Time and the Persistence of Memory approaches the chiming of Big Ben as structure, not simply background. Memory consistently interrupts the present, as Clarissa thinks about her kiss with Sally and her days at Bourton. Time is pressure, not just a sequence of moments.
Sanity, Illness, and Social Authority focuses on teaching Septimus’s story not as a side plot but as a critical element of the story. In Septimus’s arc, institutions, represented by Dr. Holmes and Sir William Bradshaw, define “normal” and exert their authority. The language of authority matters: Bradshaw controls his patients through Proportion and Conversion.
Social Performance and Private Identity examines Clarissa’s performance at her party. It focuses on how she appears publicly, in contrast to her private thoughts, and treats the party as the novel’s structural convergence.
These strands give students a way to track patterns throughout the novel rather than reading it as a series of disconnected moments. They begin to see how Woolf builds meaning structurally rather than through plot.
One example lesson I teach introduces students to Woolf’s use of time as a structural force rather than a background detail through a close reading of the introduction of Big Ben’s chimes, a motif that runs through the novel.
First a warning, musical; then the hour, irrevocable. The leaden circles dissolved in the air.
Students take apart the first sentence. What do these two parts suggest about time? Why construct the sentence in two parts? I play the Westminster chimes of Big Ben for students and ask them what it might be like to hear those chimes marking every hour of your life. Students invariably notice the pressure that time exerts when marked in this way, but also, there is a collective experience—time is a shared experience. Structurally, the sentence also prepares students for how to read this novel as a whole. I guide students to pay attention to the semicolon, acting as a hinge.
Students then analyze the novel’s beginning in small groups. They track how Woolf moves in and out of Clarissa’s mind, identifying where those shifts occur, what triggers them, and what changes as a result. It’s important to affirm that students do not need to be right; they just need to notice the structural movement.
As a class, we examine the Trigger → Shift → Effect pattern as a way of tracking how Woolf moves between consciousnesses. We discuss patterns, noting external triggers (such as sounds, movements, memory cues) and how they lead to an internal shift. Then we discuss the emotional or temporal effect of that shift.
I guide students to notice that time does not move linearly, and they reflect on how Woolf’s description of Big Ben suggests that time exerts pressure on characters.
When I approach the novel through structural focus, students stop asking “What is happening?” and start to notice “Why is Woolf structuring the novel this way?” Students can grasp concepts such as structure, meaning, and complexity with this focus.
When I first taught this novel, I didn’t know how to approach it and resorted to cobbling lessons together based on a few things I could find online. Over time, I realized I needed a more coherent way to teach the novel—not just a series of lessons, but a structure that helped students build understanding across the unit. I ended up building a full unit organized around these ideas, including lesson plans, slides, and multiple assessment pathways.
My full Mrs. Dalloway unit includes lesson plans, slides, and assessments built around this structure.
Teaching this novel matters, even in an age when students increasingly struggle to focus and are losing reading stamina. Students deserve opportunities to meaningfully experience difficult reading. Understanding structure is a skill they can transfer to other reading—and other complex texts. It’s worthwhile: when this novel hits, it cracks open new worlds for students.
In reviewing feedback on my students’ AP Literature* exam scores, I observed that they scored lower on the skills connected to explaining the function of setting. I use Yaa Gyasi’s novel Homegoing to teach these skills:
2.A: Identify and describe specific textual details that convey or reveal a setting.
2.B: Explain the function of setting in a narrative.
2.C: Describe the relationship between a character and a setting.
Homegoing is a perfect text for teaching the function of a setting because of the overwhelming influence setting has on the characters. I typically teach this book with a discussion-heavy approach, which works well when you have classes that love discussion. I currently have a great class that loves to discuss the literature we are reading; however, I’m also approaching my teaching in general with more small-group activities designed to engage students in the text. I created a setting-based activity I plan to use in teaching Homegoing this year. It’s called “Setting as Shaper.”
As students read, they will annotate or collect 4–6 specific setting details, then sort them into categories:
When they annotate, quote, or paraphrase the detail, they should identify where it appears and label the category.
After each reading, students will convene with a small group in class and discuss their observations. The group will select two setting details and answer: “What is the setting doing to the character in this chapter?”
Students will either choose from the following list or add your own idea:
Restricting choices
Enabling survival or resistance
Reinforcing power hierarchies
Shaping identity or self-perception
Creating generational trauma
Offering false or fragile safety
Forcing moral compromise
After their discussion, they will write a 1-2 sentence claim about the setting in the chapter: In this chapter, the setting functions to ________, which shapes ________.
I am also going to have students create concept maps for each chapter. For Effia’s chapter, students will create a Belonging Map (see details below). The guiding questions for this particular chapter: Where does Effia belong? And where is she erased?
Effia’s chapter is fundamentally about conditional belonging. The Cape Coast Castle is simultaneously:
a site of privilege and protection
a site of moral erasure and violence
This map helps students analyze:
how Effia belongs only by ignoring certain spaces
how physical proximity does not equal moral or emotional access
Instructions for the Belonging Map:
Draw concentric circles:
Inner = belonging
Middle = conditional belonging
Outer = exclusion or danger
Place locations, naming:
Who grants or denies belonging?
What is the cost of belonging?
Unpack belonging maps together as a class.
Maps in Homegoing
Chapter Type
Map
Applicable Chapters
Confinement / institutional
Pressure Map
“Esi,” “Ness,” “H”
Movement / transition
Before–Inside–After
“Kojo,” “Abena,” “Yaw,” “Marcus”
Moral compromise
Moral Geography
“Akua,” “Sonny”
Identity & displacement
Belonging Map
“Effia,” “Willie,” “Marjorie”
Power systems
Agency Spectrum
“Quey,” “James”
Below, you can find some instructions for using these different concept maps:
Map Type
Core Question(s)
How to Create
Annotations
Analytical Payoff
Best Used When
Other
Agency Spectrum Map
Focus: Power, choice, and limitation across different spaces
Where does the character have agency? Where is that agency limited or illusory?
Draw a horizontal line across your page.
Label the left end: Little or No Agency.
Label the right end: High Agency / Control.
Identify 3–5 key locations from the chapter.
Place each location along the line based on how much control the character has in that space.
What choices are available to the character here
What choices are denied
One brief textual detail that supports your placement
This map shows that agency is uneven and often depends on setting, not personality.
Characters move between spaces
Power feels partial or unstable
The setting offers freedom that may not be real
Pressure Map (Setting as Force)
Focus: How the environment exerts control over the character
What pressures does the setting apply, and how do they shape the character’s behavior or survival?
Write the character’s name in the center of the page.
Draw arrows pointing toward the character.
Each arrow represents a pressure created by the setting.
Write 2–3 outcomes such as:
Loss of agency
Adaptation or withdrawal
Survival strategies
Identity erosion or fragmentation
One specific setting detail
A brief note explaining its effect on the character
This map treats setting as an active force, not background.
Characters are confined or controlled
Institutions dominate the chapter
Action is limited by environment
Types of pressure to consider:
Physical (space, labor, confinement, violence)
Social (laws, customs, hierarchy)
Psychological (fear, silence, isolation)
Temporal (waiting, repetition, loss of future)
Moral Geography Map
Focus: Ethics, compromise, and survival shaped by place
What actions become normal or necessary in this setting, and why?
Divide your page into two columns:
Setting Conditions
Moral Consequences
List 3–5 features of the setting (rules, expectations, dangers).
For each feature, explain what it requires, rewards, or punishes.
Optional Visual Layer—Use symbols or colors to mark:
Survival choices
Complicity
Resistance
Take notes on:
What behaviors does the setting make necessary for survival
What moral compromises does it encourage or demand
What actions would be unthinkable in a different place?
This map shows that ethics are shaped by environment, not just individual values.
Characters face moral compromise
Systems normalize harm
Survival conflicts with personal values
Before – Inside – After Map
Focus: Transformation caused by entering a setting
How does entering this setting change the character?
Divide your page into three sections:
BEFORE the Setting; Identify:
The character’s beliefs or expectations
Hopes, goals, or sense of identity
INSIDE the Setting; Analyze:
Key features of the environment
Rules for survival or belonging
Dominant emotions or pressures
AFTER the Setting; Explain:
What has changed in the character
What is lost, gained, or hardened
How the character now sees the world
Include at least one specific textual detail in each section. (Annotate during the activity.)
This map highlights setting as a catalyst for change, not just a location.
Characters move into a new environment
A chapter centers on transition or realization
Change is psychological or moral
A good way to differentiate for stronger students might be to have them choose the map for each chapter. You might give them instructions for how to choose that look something like this:
Is this chapter about power? → Agency Spectrum
Is it about constraint or survival? → Pressure Map
Is it about ethical compromise? → Moral Geography
Is it about change over time? → Before–Inside–After
Is it about belonging or not belonging? → Belonging Map
Setting is never neutral. These maps help students explain what the setting does and why it matters , and should help strengthen students’ setting analysis skills. I’ll let you know how it goes!
*AP® is a trademark registered by the College Board, which is not affiliated with, and does not endorse, this website.
Zuihitsu is a Japanese poetry form that translates roughly to “running brush.” The idea behind a zuihitsu is to follow your “brush,” or pen, and see where it takes you. Zuihitsu can include short or long lines (think Walt Whitman). They may include snippets of dialog or stories. They rely on juxtaposition, fragments, and even contradictions. As Kimiko Hahn, a practitioner of zuihitsu, says, they rely on disorder.
This video might help you understand more:
Before writing zuihitsu, I like to share two examples with students. The first is Kimiko Hahn’s poem “The Orient.” This poem is also published in Hahn’s collection, The Narrow Road to the Interior. It’s well worth your time!
To start the lesson, I ask students to identify all the associations they have with the word “orient.” Kimiko Hahn will be using all of them in her poem, so it’s useful to get them thinking about the meanings of the word. We read Hahn’s poem and discuss our observations.
Next, I introduce zuihitsu as a “running brush” and share Jenny Xie’s “Zuihitsu.”
Only after we have seen these two zuihitsu do I define zuihitsu for students:
A genre of Japanese literature consisting of loosely connected personal essays and fragmented ideas that typically respond to the author’s surroundings.
Zuihitsu are neither prose poems nor essays, but they may resemble both in some ways.
The creation of order in zuihitsu depends on disorder. Zuihitsu demands, as its starting point, juxtapositions, fragments, contradictions, random materials, and pieces of varying lengths.
After this brief introduction, students write zuihitsu. I start by giving students about 10 minutes to freewrite about something they’ve been thinking about for a while.
Next, they spend about the same amount of time, more or less, writing about something that is related to that first topic.
After freewriting, it’s time to locate a few fragments to include. I encourage students to look up definitions, skim Wikipedia, find ads, and peruse song lyrics—whatever kind of fragments come to mind.
After these three steps, I ask students to move the three parts into a poem using Hahn’s and Xie’s poems as a model.
I taught this lesson most recently on our school’s annual Wellness Day because it can be quite a relaxing or cathartic exercise.
I asked one of the students who attended my session as she was leaving how she felt. She said, “I feel…. light.”
I’ve been lurking on a couple of AP Lit* groups on Facebook. I see lots of great ideas, but I have questions about the texts I most often see discussed. I sense that many teachers are limited by what is available in the bookroom, and I completely understand that many teachers are living in places where they cannot teach certain texts. I am speaking from a place of privilege in that regard, and I want to acknowledge it. My school is well-resourced, and I can teach the texts I want to teach.
I was texting my sister today, and I mentioned that even though I’m getting over the flu and stayed home today, I want to be sure I can go in tomorrow because I’m starting Homegoing. I love the first day of a new unit, and this first day is especially important because there is some unfamiliar background, and I want to set the scene for students. My sister used to live in Texas. She and her family moved to upstate New York because of Texas’s oppression against the LGBTQIA+ community, particularly transgender teens and their parents. She remarked that she wondered if I could even teach that book in Texas. I don’t know. Probably not, depending on where and what kind of school. I often tell my students that we wouldn’t be able to study some of the texts we read in some parts of the country.
Even with that caveat, there are many books by authors of color that have entered the canon (if you feel you must adhere to a “canon”), and the College Board encourages racial and gender diversity in AP Lit booklists. I wonder whether Gina Korteum has zeroed in on the problem when she writes, “many teachers (myself included) have not been concerned enough over their representation in the literary canon or the AP Lit curriculum in general.” In the post, she shares an extensive list of authors and works . (Thank you, Gina, that was a lot of work!)
Honestly, the apparent predominance of White authors in AP Lit is not something I really blame the College Board for (at least not anymore). The works on the test are certainly more diverse in the last few years than they previously had been. And Gina’s post is now over four years old, so I feel like there is enough time for the word to be out.
Students see what we’re doing.
As English teachers, we should audit our curriculum frequently, identifying gaps of all kinds, whether in the kinds of writing assignments and other assessments we assign, or the texts we teach. It’s important work, and it will only be more important as the next four years unfold.
*AP® is a trademark registered by the College Board, which is not affiliated with, and does not endorse, this website.
I was so sad to hear about Nikki Giovanni’s passing. I met her a couple of times. Once was at the Georgia Council of Teachers of English convention, probably in the late 1990s, and I met her again at NCTE some years ago (picture below). Both times I met her, she was extremely kind.
Nikki Giovanni was one of the first poets I read and thought, “Oh! You can do that with poetry? Why didn’t I read poetry like that in school?” When I was an undergraduate, I took a poetry course with Coleman Barks. Actually, it was his very last poetry class before he retired. I loved Dr. Barks, but we did not read any women in that class except for Adrienne Rich. When a classmate called him on it, I remember her advocating for Nikki Giovanni.
I heard her read “Ego-Tripping,” and you cannot beat her cadence at the poem’s end:
Many of my teacher friends on Bluesky (we’ve ditched the website formerly known as Twitter) mourned Giovanni’s passing in the way teachers do—sharing her work and wisdom and creating lessons. I had to sit in thought for a few days. I had to shed a few tears. Now, I’m ready to share my contribution in memory of Nikki Giovanni. This lesson focuses on “Resignation,” but you could probably adapt it for other Giovanni poems.
For context, I have 70-minute class periods, but you can adapt this lesson as you see fit. Some inspiration for this lesson came from Teach This Poem by the Academy of American Poets. I also adapted the Tone Bottles activity from #TeachLivingPoets (also described in this book). I plan to teach this lesson next Thursday, right before we go on winter break. It is part of a larger thematic unit on love and relationships. For this activity, you will need:
Clear glue (not dries clear but actually clear, such as this kind)
Index cards
A selection of glitters and sequins
Clean, clear plastic bottles (such as soda or water bottles)
As a warm-up or activator, ask students to journal for a few minutes on the following topic:
What does the word “resignation” mean to you? Feel free to do some research. What connotations does the word have?
Discuss the journal afterward. Invite students to share their ideas. Compile their definitions on the board.
I always share some details about the author’s biography. Here is what I plan to share about Giovanni.
Then we will watch this PBS News Hour video about Giovanni:
I will probably share my own reflections about meeting Ms. Giovanni and what she means to me.
Next we will watch and listen closely to “Love is so Simple” by the Dells, alluded to in the poem.
Students can share their observations about words and phrases that stood out to them and why.
Distribute copies of the poem and ask students to read it silently for a few minutes and then share out what they notice. If they don’t say anything about Giovanni’s use of anaphora, draw their attention to it and ask them about its effect.
Next, read the poem again aloud. Giovanni’s poetry, in particular, benefits from being read aloud.
As a full class, discuss the following questions:
Discuss the idea of “resignation” in love. Does it imply acceptance, inevitability, or submission?
Is this a positive or negative perspective on love? Why? (point to evidence)
Does “resignation” always mean giving up? Can it be empowering? (encourage students to explain their responses)
In small groups, students decide which line they think is the most important line in the poem. Bring the class together to share their lines and offer their evidence. What does this line reveal about the speaker and/or the beloved? This activity encourages them to pay attention to language.
Brainstorm a list of symbols in the poem (e.g., snowflakes, darkness and light, or metaphors of coffee and chocolate milk) and discuss what they might represent.
Have students create “Resignation” bottles that capture the poem the way they see it. They should pick elements such as glitter, sequins, or other small items that represent a symbol in the poem, the tone of the poem, and a chosen image, phrase, or line. They should select a food color that represents the poem’s overall meaning. I won’t reprint instructions for Tone Bottles here since you can find them at #TeachLivingPoets, but I will basically be following those instructions with the tweak of incorporating symbols in addition to tone. Also, I plan to tweak the recipe to eliminate mineral oil and soap, as I found them hard to work with. Instead, I’ll be using a recipe that is more similar to this one for a glitter jar.
On index cards, students write a paragraph that addresses these two prompts:
Explain why the bottle represents Nikki Giovanni’s poem.
Explain how creating the bottle helped you analyze the poem.
Finally, let students show off their work and examine their peers’ work with a gallery walk. Ask them to reflect on their peers’ choices.
I’ll let you know how the lesson goes. In the meantime, feel free to use it.
One of the things I dislike about teaching AP English Literature is that I really need to offer students opportunities to practice for the exam, which means timed writing and multiple choice practice. I don’t think timed writing is pedagogically sound because we are not replicating the kind of writing students will have to do most often in college and career. Sure, students have deadlines, but it will be uncommon for them to have to produce something like a timed essay in the real world. I also tend to ask more open-ended questions rather than multiple-choice questions. I have moved away from giving tests and even quizzes as learning assessments. But I also don’t want to shortchange my students who plan to take the exam.
I don’t like giving students prompts that are disconnected from our studies. If, for example, we are engaged in a unit on Home and Family and are reading Homegoing by Yaa Gyasi, I would prefer to have students practice timed writing or multiple choice connected to that text or at least to the themes we are exploring in the unit. Unfortunately, the College Board seems to think the best way to organize the class is by genre rather than by theme. Finding timed writing prompts is not too hard, but finding multiple-choice practice based on the texts I teach can be a challenge.
This week, I decided to try ChatGPT to write some multiple-choice questions just to see what would happen. This is the prompt I put into ChatGPT:
Create five multiple choice questions with options A through E about Layli Long Soldier’s poem “Whereas”
Here is a link to the poem. I really didn’t think it would generate much of anything because Layli Long Soldier’s work is not as well known as, say, Robert Frost’s or Emily Dickinson’s. However, in about 15 seconds, ChatGPT generated the following questions:
In Layli Long Soldier’s poem “Whereas,” what is the significance of the title?
A. It refers to a particular location where an event takes place.
B. It’s a reference to a legal term used in U.S. government documents.
C. It’s a metaphor for a state of mind or emotion.
D. It’s a nod to the Native American oral storytelling tradition.
E. It’s a reference to a specific historical document.
What is the central theme of Layli Long Soldier’s poem “Whereas”?
A. The importance of personal identity in the face of cultural erasure.
B. The complexity and contradictions of language and communication.
C. The impact of historical trauma on present-day Indigenous people.
D. The beauty and power of nature as a source of healing and renewal.
E. The struggle for justice and equality in contemporary America
Which of the following literary devices does Layli Long Soldier use in “Whereas” to convey her message?
A. Imagery and metaphor
B. Rhyme and alliteration
C. Foreshadowing and irony
D. Flashback and symbolism
E. Simile and hyperbole
How does Layli Long Soldier use repetition in “Whereas”?
A. To emphasize the importance of certain ideas or concepts.
B. To create a sense of rhythm and musicality in the poem.
C. To convey the speaker’s frustration and anger.
D. To establish a connection with the reader.
E. To evoke a particular mood or emotion.
Which of the following best describes the tone of Layli Long Soldier’s “Whereas”?
A. Angry and accusatory
B. Reflective and contemplative
C. Humorous and satirical
D. Hopeful and optimistic
E. Sarcastic and ironic
Now, the first question is tricky, but it’s the kind of question with a good distractor. Two answers are pretty good, but one is best. The other four are a bit more straightforward. I think they’re pretty good questions. If I had tried to write them, it would have taken over an hour, I’m sure. I am quite sure I wouldn’t have been able to find questions like this online or in any AP prep books.
I told my students where they came from, and one student who had missed a couple commented, “THAT’S why they suck.” Kidding aside, the students generally agreed they were AP-style questions. They also reflected that when I had asked them to write multiple choice questions as a thinking activity in class, it had taken them a good chunk of our 70-minute period to write just one good question.
I tried again with Layli Long Soldier’s poem “Obligations 2,” and ChatGPT didn’t do as well. I believe the AI confused the poem with another text based on the questions it generated, but I’m not sure which one. Still, I think this is a game-changer for including more quick multiple-choice practice questions on the texts I actually teach.
I decided to try again to see what would happen if I asked ChatGPT to create some discussion questions. Here is the prompt I used:
make up discussion questions based on Zitkála-Šá’s poem “The Red Man’s America”
It generated the following:
What message is Zitkála-Šá conveying in “The Red Man’s America,” and how does she use language and imagery to convey that message?
How does Zitkála-Šá’s personal experience as a Native American influence her perspective on the United States and its treatment of indigenous peoples?
In what ways does “The Red Man’s America” challenge traditional American narratives of manifest destiny and the conquest of the West?
How does Zitkála-Šá’s poem reflect the broader struggle of Native Americans to maintain their cultural identity and resist assimilation into mainstream American society?
What role does nature play in “The Red Man’s America,” and how does Zitkála-Šá use descriptions of the natural world to convey her ideas about the relationship between Native Americans and the land?
How does “The Red Man’s America” compare to other works of Native American literature in terms of its themes and style?
In what ways does Zitkála-Šá’s poem challenge stereotypes and misconceptions about Native Americans that are still prevalent in American culture today?
How does Zitkála-Šá’s poem speak to contemporary debates about issues such as land rights, cultural appropriation, and representation of indigenous peoples in popular culture?
What does Zitkála-Šá’s poem suggest about the potential for Native American cultures to survive and thrive in the face of colonization and assimilation?
How does “The Red Man’s America” speak to broader themes of identity, belonging, and resistance in American literature and culture?
I don’t love all of these questions, but I admit most of them are pretty good, and I would use them in a class discussion. I really thought, again, that I might stump the AI with a lesser-known writer, but I didn’t.
Next, I asked ChatGPT to write me a lesson plan based on three Emily Dickinson poems I want to teach. The lesson plan was okay. It wasn’t great, but it was not terrible, either. I decided I wouldn’t use any of it because I had some other ideas about how I wanted to approach teaching Dickinson’s poems.
I think ChatGPT has the potential to save some time for tasks, but it’s not yet as creative as a human. Still, given how much time teachers spend doing some of these tasks, I think it could be a very interesting tool.
I recently found myself in the position of having to teach AP English Language for about five weeks. I won’t get into why that happened. I have never taught AP Lang. I think I’ve taught just about everything else! I decided it would be a good opportunity to do a quick unit on rhetorical analysis, which I have at least taught in the past.
For context, my classes are 70 minutes long, and typically meet three times per week. What follows below is a day-by-day plan for my unit. Feel free to use any of this. I borrowed very heavily from others and acknowledge or link to their work where I was able to do so.
Day 1
I used a lesson from Jennifer Fletcher’s book Teaching Arguments: Rhetorical Comprehension, Critique, and Response. For reference, it’s the Parlor Conversation Metaphor/Learning to Pay Attention lesson in which students examine a painting for ten minutes. I used the same painting as Jennifer and followed her lesson instructions exactly. Because her text is copyrighted, I cannot share the materials here, but I urge you to purchase her book.
Day 2
I introduced students to rhetoric. First, we journaled on this topic: Think of a time someone talked you into doing something or believing something. How did they do it? What tactics did they use? Students may share out journals. I gave students a graphic organizer with a PAPA analysis (purpose, audience, persona, argument) and picked a speech. Frankly, the speech I picked, which was Samwise Gamgee’s speech to Frodo Baggins in The Two Towers, failed spectacularly since students had no frame of reference. Note: that movie is old now. I know. It makes me sad, too. So go cautiously if you use this, but maybe pick something else. You can find a massive list here.
For homework, I assigned students an article from Kelly Gallagher’s Article of the Week website. Pick one you like! I picked this one about food deserts because our school is located in one. I asked students to prepare to have a fishbowl-style discussion on the article using the questions on the article (see the end). Before we ended class, I set discussion norms with the students.
Day 3
Students engaged in a fishbowl discussion of the article they read for homework. If you are new to fishbowl discussion, essentially, you divide the class into two groups. The first group is the “inner circle,” whose job is to begin the discussion. It should be student-centered, and the teacher should listen and take notes. I track discussions like this using an iPad app called Equity Maps. The second group is the “outer circle,” whose job is to listen to the first group and take notes. I set a timer for 15 minutes for the first group. Then the groups swap positions and the second group has a discussion while the first group listens and takes notes. After both groups discussed the text, we debriefed the discussion experience:
What did you observe during the discussion of the text?
What is one thing you heard that you agree with?
What is one thing you heard that you disagree with?
How did you feel while on the outside of the fishbowl?
How did you feel while on the inside of the fishbowl?
For homework, I assigned students to write a reflection on their learning. I have used the same template for seminar reflections for years. I stole it from Greece New York Public Schools well over 15 years ago. Unfortunately, it’s no longer available on their site, so I’m going to try to link it below.
I introduced students to ethos, pathos, and logos. Because students had read Bryan Stevenson’s book Just Mercy over the summer, I returned to his work and shared his TED Talk with them.
As students watched, they took notes on a graphic organizer:
Speaker: Who is the speaker?
Audience: Who is the intended audience for this speech?
Subject: What is the speech mostly about?
Context: What was happening in history at the time this speech was given (Stevenson discusses some of this in the speech)?
Why do you think the speaker gave this speech?
I drew a triangle on the board and asked students to tell me which of the questions above related to who the speaker was and how he established his credibility. I wrote “ethos” next to the top corner of the triangle and defined it as an author or speaker’s credibility on the topic. Is the speaker or author reliable or credible? Is the speaker or author knowledgeable? Does Bryan Stevenson establish himself as credible? Why or how?
Next, I asked which of the questions above were related to how the audience feels when listening to the speech. I added “pathos” to the triangle on the board and defined it as an appeal to emotions. How does the text make the audience feel? What emotional appeals does Stevenson make? How does the speech make you feel?
Finally, I asked which of the questions above has to do with research, evidence, or facts (this might be a good time to point out that some areas overlap; context, purpose, and subject might appeal to both pathos and logos). I added “logos” to the triangle and defined it as an appeal to logic and reason. How do the facts and evidence support the claim? What appeals to facts, logic, and reason did Stevenson make?
Following this introduction, we discussed the speech using these questions as a guide:
What do you think would happen if these three different kinds of appeals were unbalanced? For example, what if the speech had no appeals to emotions? No facts, research, or evidence?
What if it were someone else besides Bryan Stevenson (feel free to play with different celebrities here; could Taylor Swift deliver this speech believably? Kanye West?
How well do you think this speech balances the three types of appeals?
I shared the background context (but not the Call for Unity letter… yet) as seen in slide 1 below. Then I posted the questions on slide 2 and asked students to get in small groups to discuss.
We reconvened as a class, and groups shared out the highlights of their discussion. Then I shared the Call to Unity letter so students could check their speculation about question 3 on the slide deck.
I gave students this class period to work on their one-pagers. I supplied paper and colored pencils for students who wanted them.
Day 7
For this lesson, I owe everything to the #TeachLivingPoets crowd. They created the whole lesson and shared it at NCTE in 2018. We read Clint Smith’s poem “Playground Elegy” from the collection Counting Descent. We discussed the following questions:
What do you notice?
What words and phrases stand out?
What patterns do you notice?
What is the argument?
Next, I asked students to work with a partner or group of 3 to create a rhetorical triangle analysis of the poem. It’s fun to use big sticky poster paper and markers, which I provided for students. You might want to display a rhetorical triangle for students as a reminder. Students should include the following:
Speaker/author
Subject
Audience
Thesis/purpose
Students put their large sticky posters up and did a gallery walk. I made them spend two minutes on each poster so they would really read it. I set a timer and everything! Then I asked them to share something interesting they noticed on another group’s poster.
The one-pagers were due for the next class, so I reminded students to finish them for homework.
Day 8
This lesson was also stolen from the #TeachLivingPoets presentation from 2018. I displayed the slide deck below.
I went through slides 1 (with Fatimah Asghar’s biography) to 5. Then I posted slide 6 and handed out copies of Asghar’s poems “Microaggression Bingo” and “Partition” from their collection If They Come for Us: Poems. Students discussed these questions in relation to the two poems in groups. Then the groups shared with the class.
I wrote SOAPSTone on the board and gave students a SOAPSTone graphic organizer with a chart on both sides of the paper. They analyzed each of the poems using the graphic organizer as a class, but you could easily have them do it in small groups.
Day 9
I introduced an out-of-class rhetorical analysis essay and gave students a list of speeches from which to choose. I said they might also pick another speech, and one student did. I also brought in some essay and poetry collections, but all my students opted for a speech. I asked them to fill out a SOAPSTone graphic organizer on their selected speech. Then, I suggested they examine appeals to ethos, logos, and pathos with examples of each, identify style choices and details and build an analysis:
What is the writer’s intention?
Who is the intended audience?
What is the argument?
What is the writer’s strategy to make that argument? Why?
What appeals does the writer use to persuade the reader? Why
What kind of style does the writer use?
What effect does this work have on the audience?
Students had time in class to begin all this planning work.
Day 10
I decided to introduce rhetorical analysis of a film by screening Ava Du Vernay’s 13th, which is available on Netflix or free on YouTube.
As students watched the film, I instructed them to take notes on the following aspects:
Appeals to ethos
Appeals to logos
Appeals to pathos
SOAPSTone
This film is over 1:40, so we didn’t finish in one period and carried the film over to the next class.
Students continued working on drafts of their rhetorical analysis for homework.
Students were in groups of 3 or 4, and I gave them 15-20 minutes to talk. Then they shared their top 2 thoughts, questions, or epiphanies on the board, and their ideas guided the rest of our class discussion of the film.
For homework, students finished a first draft of the rhetorical analysis.
Day 12
Writing workshop. Conference with students on their drafts, give them time to read and edit each other’s work, or work on their drafts.
Day 13
Ugh. The test. Most of our students take AP Lang exams, so I gave them the 2021 AP Lang rhetorical analysis (Sonia Sotomayor’s speech) as a timed writing practice. We debriefed the prompt after the timed writing. I gave them a copy of the AP rhetorical analysis rubric and went over it. Then I asked them to score themselves on the rubric and add a sentence to the end of the timed writing explaining how they scored themselves and why.
Day 14
We examined the College Board’s sample essays on the rhetorical analysis for the 2021 prompt on Sonia Sotomayor’s speech and scored them. Then I revealed the scores the essays earned and explained the rationale for the score. My students nailed it. They scored each essay exactly as the College Board did! We also discussed how they feel about their timed writing from the previous class now that they’ve seen models, and most students indicated they feel pretty good. At this point, I was preparing to hand the class over to their new full-time teacher, so she took some time to get to know the students with some games.
— Joel /hō•ÉL/ Garza is cofounder of #THEBOOKCHAT 📓 (@JoelRGarza) March 30, 2022
You will need enough Jenga games for students in groups of 3-4. Number the blocks from 1-22. You will repeat numbers, and that is okay.
I also collected final drafts of the rhetorical analysis essay.
The graded assessments in this unit were the fishbowl reflection, the one-pager, and the rhetorical analysis essay. I do not believe in grading timed writing or participation. I think it puts too much pressure on students to grade timed writing when it is practice and should be a formative assessment. I have moved away from grading participation because it is difficult to assess what students are learning. Students may dominate discussion without really learning much to rack up participation grades, or they may be introverted and struggle to speak but still learn a lot, so I just don’t do it. I grade reflections on discussions instead.