The Common Core Companion: The Standards Decoded, Grades 3-5. Leslie Blauman

that the standards back map from secondary education. The standards’ ambitious intellectual vision—the deep comprehension, sharp analysis, and honed compositions described in the anchor standards — fit the academic and social maturity of adolescents — even in the grades 3–5 standards. This is not to say that it will be cakewalk for middle and high school students to meet the standards, but more to express to you, dear reader, that my job in authoring this volume is to show you that your students are readier than you think to become accomplished readers, writers, and thinkers. Yes, even the squirmiest, sneaker-and-tee-shirt wearing 10-year-old reader, still living on a diet of macaroni and cheese and rereadings of Diary of a Wimpy Kid, is going to astound you with his grasp of The Tiger Rising.

      One of the many things I love about the teaching profession is the number of teachers who think that the grade they teach is, hands down, “the best … when children are the most enthusiastic and inquisitive.” Well, from where I currently sit as a fourth-grade teacher, 9 and 10 year olds are tops. But when I look at grades 3 and 5, I liken our collective place in teaching the standards to the bullpen in baseball, where pitchers warm up, so they can be at peak readiness out on the field. In grades 3, 4, and 5, we get our students ready for the rigor of middle school and the big leagues of academic growth that flourishes in high school. It’s in grades 3–5 that we can truly push students toward independent owning of literacy skills and lots of practice—that eyes-on-text, pen-on-paper time that the standards emphasize. It’s the pitcher in the bullpen, alone, honing her skills. It’s Malcolm Gladwell’s 10,000 hours. It’s your student, reading independently, using comprehension strategies to make sense of text, conversing with peers about engaging content, and writing for a variety of purposes.

      Now a confession: Having taught for more than 30 years, I admit, I’ve been there, done that with reforms. Whole language, Back to Basics, outcome-based education, portfolios, proficiencies … the list goes on. So what could I say in this Introduction and in this book to convince fellow veteran teachers and colleagues that this reform is different? That the CCSS are worth taking on and fighting for? As Jim Burke points out, “They come with a level of support, a degree of commitment from all leaders at all levels of government and business, and a sense of national urgency that the other efforts could not or cannot claim.”

      And from researcher P. David Pearson:

      These deep concerns and misgivings notwithstanding, I have supported and will continue to support the CCSS movement. Why? For three reasons. First, compared to the alternative—the confusing and conflicting world of 50 versions of state Standards—the CCSS are clearly the best game in town. Second, with any luck, these will prove to be “living Standards” that will be revised regularly so that they are always based on the most current knowledge. Third—and most important—my reading of the theoretical and empirical scholarship on reading comprehension and learning lead me to conclude that these Standards are definitely a move in the right direction—toward (a) deeper learning, (b) greater accountability to careful reading and the use of evidence to support claims and reasoning in both reading and writing, and (c) applying the fruits of our learning to improve the world beyond schooling and text. (Pearson, 2013, pp. 258–259)

      For me, the Common Core is different because for all their specificity in defining the goals, the authors of the CCSS wisely leave it to the practitioners to design the teaching and learning that will get students to the goals:

      By emphasizing required achievements, the Standards leave room for teachers, curriculum developers, and states to determine how those goals should be reached and what additional topics should be addressed. Thus, the Standards do not mandate such things as a particular writing process or the full range of metacognitive strategies that students may need to monitor and direct their thinking and learning. Teachers are thus free to provide students with whatever tools and knowledge their professional judgment and experience identify as most helpful for meeting the goals set out in the Standards. (National Governors Association Center for Best Practices [NGA Center] & Council of Chief State School Officers [CCSSO], 2010)

      The standards also uphold and advance the strong research base for how learners learn and progress. Students become better readers when they read. They become better writers when they write. Digging into the CCSS you find that Reading Standard 10 requires that students read. Writing Standard 10 stipulates that students write for a variety of purposes over an extended time period. And don’t we want our students — of all ages — doing lots of actual reading and writing and thinking? Here are a few sentences from the standards that should woo any of us:

      Students who meet the Standards readily undertake close, attentive reading that is at the heart of understanding and enjoying complex works of literature. They habitually perform the critical reading necessary to pick carefully through the staggering amount of information available today in print and digitally. They actively seek the wide, deep, and thoughtful engagement with high quality literary and informational texts that builds knowledge, enlarges experience, and broadens worldviews. (NGA Center & CCSSO, 2010, p. 3)

      And you know what? This is what students want, too! They don’t want canned lessons, teachers reading from scripts, random worksheets tied to a commercial program or downloaded off the Internet. They want to engage. It doesn’t matter about socioeconomics, or race, or whatever factors you want to insert here: kids of all ages want, almost clamor for, the same thing. They want rigor and choice and someone that helps them to think and to learn and communicate with others. They want someone who listens to them, validates where they are, and then moves them forward.

      Our students want us teachers to bring texts, rich discussions, complex ideas and emotions into their lives in the safety of the classroom culture. Last year I read R. J. Palacio’s novel Wonder aloud to the class. I looked up after I’d read the final sentence in one of the last chapters to see more than half the class in tears. Then the tears turned to cheers at how the protagonist overcame such incredible odds. This is a book that unfolds gradually, but without spoiling it, the main character, August, is unlike any other children and my students empathize with him as he’s ostracized because of genetics giving him the short straw. The principal is presenting year-end awards and uses Henry Ward Beecher’s words on greatness. “‘Greatness,’ wrote Beecher, ‘lies not in being strong, but in the right using of strength … He is the greatest whose strength carries up the most hearts.’” As the principal finishes, the last sentence reads, “So will August Pullman please come up here to receive this award?” My students understood—Auggie’s quiet greatness, his outlook on life, his perseverance all prevailed. And they had lived with August throughout the adversity.

      This book will stay with my students. The story, the lessons, the empathy. This is one of many powerful books we read, in a list that could go on and on. But they will remember Auggie Pullman perhaps most of all. “Thank you for making me go to school,” Auggie said.

      I want all our students to say that—every day! And I believe that the Common Core Standards can create the kind of conditions in our classrooms that lead students to say that, to revere school. The standards are “bookish,” “intellectual” and despite or because of their rigor, they’re about ensuring students’ engagement.

      So before I move on to an overview of how this book is organized, I want to give you a metaphor of how I envision this book serving you. Jim Burke uses a metaphor of a compass in his introduction of The Common Core Companion, a wonderful metaphor.

      For this book, I offer you this image:

      The image was sent by a friend of mine as I was working on the final section of this book, with a brief note, “The silhouetted hands made me think of students leaning in with raised hands. With the standards, aren’t all students supposed to be thinking and participating?”

      Bingo. I had my metaphor. The standards and in turn the suggestions in this book are a mere outline of how you might begin. The book allows you to color, contour, and add texture to the teaching and learning that I charcoal-outlined in these pages.

      A Brief Orientation to The Common Core Companion: