This whole week as I prepare to write narratives, the first lines of William Blake's "Auguries of Innocence" have been on repeat in my head:
To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour
I'll be honest - I wasn't sure why they were on repeat but it was better than the Bon Jovi song that had been there the week before so I embraced the change. But today, as I sat down to write, Blake's words revealed their relevance.
Writing narratives is a gift of time with each child. As I write, I hold them up, consider them, rotate them in my palm, if you will. Inevitably, moments of learning, small triumphs and little jokes - long forgotten in the bustle of the school day - bubble back to the surface. I often chuckle out loud or have a sudden revelation as the pieces fall into place. And, by the time I am finished, I know a child better than when I had started.
And that is where the value of narratives lie for a progressive educator. Not in the recording - although that is important, too, especially in the absence of traditional (superficial) measures like grades - but in the understanding. Through collecting these moments and writing about them, I come to see a child so much more clearly. The once disparate details coalesce into an understandable whole and patterns reveal themselves. When I am finished, I see new ways forward and have a new respect for the journey the child has been on already.
We often talk about "formative assessment" at Prairie Creek. We use assessments to chart the next instruction for a child. Perhaps it's a reading assessment or a math "share what you can do so far" activity that tells us what the next week's work will be. But we rarely talk about narratives as formative assessments. In many places, they would be "summative assessments" - a wrap up and report of what a child has learned. But, for me at least, writing a narrative uncovers where a child is heading by looking at where they've been. I discover so much when writing them. It shapes the work to come and, in a progressive setting where we create authentic work for kids, knowing them so deeply is vital.
Is it a lot of work? Sure. But knowing students is the work of teaching. I emerge from narrative writing so connected with my students and so excited to launch into the months ahead. It truly is a labor of love.