Kelly Gallagher - The reading channel
In Keeping a Head in School: A Student’s Book About Learning Abilities and Learning Disorders, Mel Levine discusses the different attention channels we have in our brains and how it’s necessary when attempting a difficult task to make sure we are “tuned” to the right attention channel. I found this particularly true one morning last week as I drove to school.
Getting into my car, I knew that a particularly troublesome day was looming: a parent was going to meet with me before school started to discuss her child’s unhappiness with a report card grade, my principal wanted to meet with me during my planning period to discuss a “budget concern,” a visitor was coming into my classroom to observe a lesson, and I was woefully behind in grading the stack of essays on my desk—a stack that seemed to be growing faster than the push for a California gubernatorial recall. In addition to this I was about to spend the day with 175 adolescents.
Preoccupied with the day’s hurdles, I hurriedly pulled into the faculty parking lot. As I turned off my ignition, I suddenly thought with a jolt: How in the heck did I get here? I knew I had driven the 15.3 miles to work, and had in fact driven three freeways to get there. But I had no specific memory of actually driving to work. My mind was so preoccupied with the upcoming day’s events that I remembered little more than getting into my car at home and—what seemed like the next moment—getting out of my car in a different city. How I arrived safely was a mystery to me, for I had no memory of turning, stopping, accelerating, or negotiating traffic. I had driven on autopilot; and although I am reasonably sure I obeyed most traffic laws, I wouldn’t swear to it. Preoccupied with what was in store for me that day, my mind was set on its “upcoming day at school” channel instead of its “driving” channel, where it should have been.
Sometimes my reading resembles my drive to work that morning; I am so preoccupied that I do not focus on the task at hand. Have you ever read a page in a book or a magazine and, as you neared the end of the page, stopped and thought to yourself, “What the heck did I just read?” More than likely, when this happens your mind was not set on its “reading” channel. Though you were reading the page, you may have been thinking about filing your taxes, taking your car to the mechanic, or finding time to get to the gym. When I finished my drive to work that morning I couldn’t tell you a thing about it, though I did make the drive. Sometimes when I finish reading a page, I can’t tell you a thing about it either, though I know I read the page.
The fact that this happens to every good reader I know illustrates an important point: coming to text in the right frame of mind is not a reading issue; it’s a concentration issue. Even good readers experience comprehension problems when they are not properly focused on the reading task at hand. Regardless of reading ability, your understanding of the text is directly affected by your frame of mind when you sit down to read. Even proficient readers will not comprehend their reading if their minds are not tuned to the reading task at hand. Before thinking about how to help students read challenging text, we must first make sure they are in the right frame of mind before they begin to read. How do we do this? By letting students know that it is normal for all readers to be occasionally “off channel” while reading. Being “off channel” is not the problem; the question is what good readers do when their reading minds are “off channel.” To help my students prepare for a challenging text, I suggest that they ask themselves three questions:
Once students are in the correct frame of mind to read, there are things we can do to help them make sense of difficult text. Before I ask students to read challenging or unfamiliar material, I ask myself: Have I adequately framed the text to help shore up my students’ lack of prior knowledge and experience? In short, are they ready to go?
Getting into my car, I knew that a particularly troublesome day was looming: a parent was going to meet with me before school started to discuss her child’s unhappiness with a report card grade, my principal wanted to meet with me during my planning period to discuss a “budget concern,” a visitor was coming into my classroom to observe a lesson, and I was woefully behind in grading the stack of essays on my desk—a stack that seemed to be growing faster than the push for a California gubernatorial recall. In addition to this I was about to spend the day with 175 adolescents.
Preoccupied with the day’s hurdles, I hurriedly pulled into the faculty parking lot. As I turned off my ignition, I suddenly thought with a jolt: How in the heck did I get here? I knew I had driven the 15.3 miles to work, and had in fact driven three freeways to get there. But I had no specific memory of actually driving to work. My mind was so preoccupied with the upcoming day’s events that I remembered little more than getting into my car at home and—what seemed like the next moment—getting out of my car in a different city. How I arrived safely was a mystery to me, for I had no memory of turning, stopping, accelerating, or negotiating traffic. I had driven on autopilot; and although I am reasonably sure I obeyed most traffic laws, I wouldn’t swear to it. Preoccupied with what was in store for me that day, my mind was set on its “upcoming day at school” channel instead of its “driving” channel, where it should have been.
Sometimes my reading resembles my drive to work that morning; I am so preoccupied that I do not focus on the task at hand. Have you ever read a page in a book or a magazine and, as you neared the end of the page, stopped and thought to yourself, “What the heck did I just read?” More than likely, when this happens your mind was not set on its “reading” channel. Though you were reading the page, you may have been thinking about filing your taxes, taking your car to the mechanic, or finding time to get to the gym. When I finished my drive to work that morning I couldn’t tell you a thing about it, though I did make the drive. Sometimes when I finish reading a page, I can’t tell you a thing about it either, though I know I read the page.
The fact that this happens to every good reader I know illustrates an important point: coming to text in the right frame of mind is not a reading issue; it’s a concentration issue. Even good readers experience comprehension problems when they are not properly focused on the reading task at hand. Regardless of reading ability, your understanding of the text is directly affected by your frame of mind when you sit down to read. Even proficient readers will not comprehend their reading if their minds are not tuned to the reading task at hand. Before thinking about how to help students read challenging text, we must first make sure they are in the right frame of mind before they begin to read. How do we do this? By letting students know that it is normal for all readers to be occasionally “off channel” while reading. Being “off channel” is not the problem; the question is what good readers do when their reading minds are “off channel.” To help my students prepare for a challenging text, I suggest that they ask themselves three questions:
- Have I chosen a place to read that will enable me to give my full concentration to the reading task at hand?
- Have I set aside enough time to give this reading the attention it deserves?
- Have I cleared my mind of other issues and turned to the “reading” channel of my brain?
Once students are in the correct frame of mind to read, there are things we can do to help them make sense of difficult text. Before I ask students to read challenging or unfamiliar material, I ask myself: Have I adequately framed the text to help shore up my students’ lack of prior knowledge and experience? In short, are they ready to go?
Excerpt taken from Kelly Gallagher's book called Deeper Reading.