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THESIS

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This is to certify that the
dissertation entitled

OF WOLVES, MATTER, AND MAGNETISM:
FOURTH GRADERS’ WRITING IN SCIENCE

presented by

CATHY TOWER

has been accepted towards fulfillment
of the requirements for the

Ph.D . degree in Educational Psycholgx

 

 

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OF WOLVES, MATTER, AND MAGNETISM:
FOURTH GRADERS’ WRITING IN SCIENCE

By

Cathy Tower

A DISSERTATION

Submitted to
Michigan State University
in partial fulfillment of the requirements
for the degree of

DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY
Department of Counseling, Educational Psychology, and Special Education

2004

ABSTRACT

OF WOLVES, MATTER, AND MAGNETISM:
FOURTH GRADERS’ WRITING IN SCIENCE

By

Cathy Tower

This dissertation includes two manuscripts resulting from a year-long descriptive
study of fourth graders’ writing in science. The study explored the informational writing
development of fourth graders within the context of science instruction over the course of
one school year. The study was supported by genre theory, and it considered both
structural/organizational and social/contextual aspects of genre. Forty-four students and
their teachers in two classrooms participated in the study. Classroom visits were
conducted once a week in each classroom. Data collected included all informational
writing produced within science instruction (308 written texts), field notes of
observations, relevant artifacts, and interviews with teachers and students.

For the first manuscript, structural (discourse) and context analyses were
performed in order to gain a complex picture of the instructional context in which the
written texts were produced. Results suggest that the written texts that students produced
over the course of the school year varied in ways related to two powerful context factors:
1) the task structure (which has several dimensions, including the level of scaffolding, the
focus of instruction, and the purpose and audience of the task) and 2) the topic of each
writing assignment. As the task structure varied, so did the organization and text feature
use within the written texts that students produced. The topic of any given writing
assignment seemed related to the resulting organizational structures that students

employed. Analysis suggests that some topics constrain writers more than others, and

thus it may make sense to consider topic when analyzing writing. This study reinforces
the importance of considering writing growth in the contexts in which students learn to
compose and communicate through written language.

In the second manuscript, an analysis of the science writing of 23 students, along
with context data, from one of the fourth grade classrooms resulted in a list of nine
elements of nonfiction writers’ craft that students used: attention to audience, voice,
humor, leads, questions, literary devices, connecting the new to the known, reference to
authority, and visuals. Each of the nine craft elements is discussed and examples from
students’ writing are provided. Examples focus primarily on the work of one fourth
grader, Robert, who tried out all of these craft elements in his science writing. Three
conclusions based on the results are offered: (1) young writers are able to attend to
generic and rhetorical issues as evidenced through their use of the elements of nonfiction
writer’s craft, (2) the craft elements identified here are closely inter-related and often
overlapping, and (3) the teacher may play an important role in students’ developing
understanding and use of nonfiction writer’s craft elements through attention to, or
neglect of, these elements. The manuscript concludes with a brief discussion of future

directions for research.

For David

iv

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

The writing of my dissertation was supported and encouraged by a number of
important people (and a couple of cats). First, I would like to thank my family for their
many years of support of all kinds. My parents have always told me that I could do
anything I set my mind to, which is a powerful thing to tell a kid. Thank you, Mom and
Dad. Thanks too to my sister Mary for her emails and phone calls that provided necessary
distraction and encouragement. Mare, you are a good friend.

I am lucky to have found so many wonderful friends in graduate school. For
providing diversions, lunch dates, revising and editing help, hikes in the woods, hand-
written letters, and all other manner of vital support, I wish to thank Leigh Hall, Jane
Pizzolato, Mandy Hoffmann, Margaret Manalo, Jonathan Manalo, Alisa Bates, Kiran
Nimmagadda, Kristen Perry, and Mary Kay Johnson. And before coming to graduate
school, I was surrounded by amazing teacher friends who helped me to appreciate the
power and beauty of teaching. My love and appreciation go to Terri Trembley, Lee-Rae
Oliver, Caryn Cyr, Sarah Day, Mary Evans, and the rest of the staff of Fairmount School
circa 1995-2000. One friend deserves special mention for her unwavering love and
support. Suzy Knezek, without you, graduate school would have been a much bleaker
place. Thank you, thank you. (And thanks to Cleo and Ellie for their companionship.)

My dissertation committee consisted of four talented and dedicated scholars with
whom I am lucky to have worked. Thank you to Nell K. Duke, Victoria Purcell-Gates,
Jenny Denyer, and Joseph Featherstone. Thanks also to the teachers and students of Rose

Elementary and Laurel Elementary for allowing me to learn from them.

Finally, my unending love and gratitude go to my husband, David Oehmke. His
patience, good humor, support and love sustained me through the process of writing and

formatting this document. I am the luckiest.

vi

TABLE OF CONTENTS

LIST OF TABLES ................................................................................................. viii
LIST OF FIGURES .................................................................................................. ix
INTRODUCTION .................................................................................................... 1
Overview of the Dissertation ....................................................................... 2
References ..................................................................................................... 7

MANUSCRIPT l: INFORMATIONAL WRITING IN THE CONTEXT
OF SCIENCE INSTRUCTION: THE IMPORTANCE

OF TASK STRUCTURE AND TOPIC ..................................... 8
Introduction ................................................................................................... 8
Theoretical Framework ................................................................................ 10
The Need for a Developmental Perspective and Attention to Context ........ 13
Research Questions ...................................................................................... 16
Methods ........................................................................................................ 16
Data Analysis ............................................................................................... 24
Results .......................................................................................................... 29
Discussion .................................................................................................... 53
References .................................................................................................... 63

MANUSCRIPT 2: NINE ELEMENTS OF NONFICTION

WRITER’S CRAFT .................................................................. 80

What is Craft? .............................................................................................. 80

Influences on Writer’s Craft ........................................................................ 82

Methods ....................................................................................................... 84

The Writing Context .................................................................................... 87

Results .......................................................................................................... 91

Conclusion .................................................................................................. 1 14

References .................................................................................................. 123

CONCLUSION ...................................................................................................... 132

Writing a Dissertation in an Alternative Format ........................................ 132

My Dissertation Journey ............................................................................ 133

Reflections on Genre and Writing .............................................................. 137

Reference .................................................................................................... 143
APPENDICES

A Macrostructure Organization Categories ............................................... 144

B Features of Informational Texts ............................................................ 146

C Types of Scaffolding: Categories and Examples ................................... 147

D Robert’s Written Texts .......................................................................... 148

vii

Table 1

Table 2

Table 3

Table 4

Table 5

Table 6

Table 7

Table 8

Table 9

LIST OF TABLES
Written Data Collected ............................................................................ 67
Rose Elementary, Macrostructure Results by Level of Scaffolding ........ 68
Laurel Elementary, Macrostructure Results by Level of Scaffolding ..... 69

Laurel Elementary, Macrostructure Results by Type of Task

(and Level of Scaffolding) ...................................................................... 70
Rose Elementary Text Features Analysis Results ................................... 71
Laurel Elementary Text Features Analysis Results ................................. 72
Rose Elementary, Macrostructure Results Organized by Topic .............. 74

Nine Elements of Nonfiction Craft Evident in One Fourth Grade
Class’s Writing ...................................................................................... 125

Percentage of Students Using Each Element of Nonfiction Craft ......... 126

viii

Figure 1
Figure 2
Figure 3
Figure 4
Figure 5
Figure 6

Figure 7

LIST OF FIGURES

Ella’s Owl Report and Tree Diagram ..................................................... 75
Ella’s Matter Report and Tree Diagram ................................................. 77
Robert’s Rock Star Drawing ................................................................ 127
Robert’s Sumo Wrestler Drawing ........................................................ 128
Robert’s Sidebar and Chart .................................................................. 129
Robert’s Wolf Distance Diagram ......................................................... 130
Robert’s Wolf Den Diagram ................................................................ 131

ix

INTRODUCTION

The widely held opinion of wolves is that they are extremely dangerous. For

centuries, children have been told fairy tales with wolves as the villains. Thanks

in part to movies and books, the mere sound of a wolf howling in the distance is

often enough to inspire terror. The wolf, in many cultures, is a symbol of evil.
--Jim Brandenburg, To the Top of the World, 1993, p. 41

Here comes the meanest, evilest, and most disgusting thing on the face of
the earth. It ’s a wolf! Actually wolves are loving and caring for their young and
nothing like the ones in movies or books, like the big bad wolf....

Wolves were never mean creatures, but loving and caring; never blood
thirsty, but neading meat to survive. Beautiful in the color of its fir, and as clever
as me, wolves are communicating every day and adapting to their envinnent to be
successfitl. Wolves are amazing creatures. There is still much to learn about them.

«David, Wolf Report, 2002, (opening and closing paragraphs)

My fascination with wolves and with science writing can be traced back to my
days as a fourth grade teacher. During a master’s level course on inquiry, I was assigned
to embark on an inquiry project on a topic unrelated to pedagogical concerns; in other
words, something personally interesting and unrelated to my job. No “How can I improve
my spelling instruction” or similar questions. In the course of this project, I turned what
had been a vague curiosity (should wolves be reintroduced into Maine, my home state, as
some were arguing?) into a lasting passion and an impetus for major change in my
science curriculum. Spurred on by the intellectual excitement I experienced in my wolf
inquiry project, I took the leap into inquiry curriculum with my fourth grade students
(Tower, 2000). The shift resulted in an avalanche of questions about how best to support
my students in this new endeavor. Included in that avalanche of questions were some
related to the writing that I was asking my students to do: What does it mean to be a

“good” science writer? What kinds of knowledge, of genres and text features and science

content, are necessary for good writers to possess?

These questions and interests have led me to the work that is reported in this
dissertation. This project is but a small step in what I expect to be a long journey of
exploration of the ways in which students engage in inquiry. The fact that one of the
classes of fourth graders involved in my dissertation study wrote wolf reports strikes me
as wonderfully serendipitous. It serves to highlight the common thread that has brought
me from my own classroom full of fourth graders as a teacher into the classrooms of
others as a researcher who strives to understand children’s writing in science.

Overview of the Dissertation

This dissertation was written in an alternative format (Duke & Beck, 1999). It
consists of an introduction, two stand-alone manuscripts ready to be submitted for
publication, and a concluding reflections section. In the Introduction, I will provide a
brief description of the overall dissertation study that will serve to contextualize the two
manuscripts that follow. The first manuscript, titled Informational Writing in the Context
of Science Instruction: The Importance of Task Structure and Topic, presents results of
the structural and context analyses conducted on data gathered over one school year in
two fourth grade science classes. The second manuscript, titled “Nine Elements of
Nonfiction Writers’ Craft”, reports the results of an analysis of the craft elements used in
the science writing of one class of fourth graders. It takes a close look at one student’s
writing in science, with a particular focus on his craft as a writer of nonfiction text. The
final section consists of my reflections on the process of conducting this study and
writing it up.

Overview of the Study

This study was designed to build upon our existing knowledge and address some
gaps that I identified through the process of completing a literature review in the area of
children’s informational writing development (Tower, 2003). After conducting the
review, I concluded that there was a dearth of research that focused on the informational
writing of intermediate students (grades 4-6). I argued that there are two perspectives
evident in the work on children’s informational writing. A developmental perspective has
generally been adopted in studies of primary students’ informational writing. Those who
take this perspective tend to view students’ writing from the “inside-out”, starting with
the attempts that children make and working out to provide descriptions of their
“intermediate forms” (Newkirk, 1987). An achievement perspective has more often been
adopted in work that considers the writing of older children. This perspective moves from
the “outside in”, beginning with pre-determined rubrics or adult models, and moving in to
compare children’s writing to them (e. g. Applebee, Langer, Mullis, Latham, & Gentile,
1994). Additionally, work at the intermediate level tends to consider children’s
researching (Dreher, Davis, Waynant, & Clewell, 1998) and source-fmding behaviors
(Symons, MacLatchy-Gaudet, Stone, & Reynolds, 2001) more than it considers their
informational writing per se. In this study I aimed to bring a developmental perspective to
bear on the exploration of fourth graders’ informational writing. I hoped to extend the
descriptions of students’ writing development that had been started by researchers at the
primary level (e.g. Donovan, 2001; Kamberelis, 1999; Newkirk, 1987).

There was another important step that I wished to take with this study. Previous
work often did not take instructional or writing context into account in considering

children’s written texts. In earlier studies, researchers went into a school at only one time

point, sometimes at the beginning of the year to administer writing prompts (Donovan,
2001) and sometimes at the end of the year to collect writing from students’ writing
folders (Newkirk, 1987). I was convinced by arguments put forth by Chapman (1994,
1995) that it is important to take into consideration the context in which students worked
to produce written texts. Thus, I designed this study with the intention of collecting not
only the written texts produced by students, but also of collecting data that would allow
me to understand the context in which those texts were produced. To this end, I
conducted weekly classroom visits, took field notes, collected instructional artifacts and
rough drafts, and interviewed both teachers and students. This wealth of context data
allowed me to better understand and explain the patterns that emerged in the children’s
written science texts.

The following research questions guided this study:
1a. What characterizes these fourth grade students’ informational writing in science?
1b. What developmental written language issues do these students seem to attempt to
work through or struggle with?
2. What patterns of development of structural organization and use of text features are
found over the course of the year in these fourth grade students’ informational writing in
science?
3. In what ways do these patterns of development relate to aspects of the instructional
context?

The two manuscripts that make up the body of this dissertation address these
research questions. Manuscript #1 addresses questions 2 and 3, and to a lesser extent,

question 1a. Manuscript #2 addresses questions 1a and 1b by describing elements of

writer’s craft in nonfiction genres, including informational text. My data will allow
further exploration of the first research question, and future manuscripts will address
other issues that characterize these students’ informational writing.

As discussed in Manuscript #1, the results of the study failed to show strong
developmental patterns in students’ informational writing over the course of the year. I
hypothesize that this may be due to the fact that context factors, especially those related
to task structure and writing topic, may have been so important that they obscured any
nuances of development that might otherwise have been seen. It is also possible that one
school year was not a long enough period of time in which to detect patterns of
development in the writing of these students.

Taken together, the manuscripts presented here provide analysis and discussion of
the science writing of 44 fourth grade students as well as the contexts in which that
writing was produced. These analyses result in a broader understanding of the
organizational structures and text features employed by these students in their writing.
They also provide insights into some of the features in the instructional context that were
important to young writers as they wrote science text. Further, the analyses allow us to
begin to understand some important considerations of writer’s craft that these students
took up in their work. Finally, the work presented here is built on the premise that more
attention is needed to the informational writing of students in the intermediate grades.
This study paid such attention, and this attention resulted in a rich collection of data such
as the excerpt presented above that reveals the possibilities and potential of what young

writers can do. Further examination of these issues will result in a more complete and

complex understanding of how young writers learn to become proficient communicators

of science content, concepts, and findings.

References

Applebee, A. N., Langer, J. A., Mullis, I. V. S., Latham, A. S., & Gentile, C. A. (1994).
NAEP I992 writing report card (23-W01). Washington, DC: US. Government
Printing Office, Education Information Branch, Office of Educational Research
and Improvement, U. S. Department of Education.

Brandenburg, J. (1993). To the top of the world: Adventures with Arctic wolves. New
York: Scholastic.

Donovan, C. A. (2001). Children's development and control of written story and
informational genres: Insights from one elementary school. Research in the
Teaching of English, 35, 394-447.

Dreher, M. J., Davis, K. A., Waynant, P., & Clewell, S. F. (1998). Fourth—grade
researchers: Helping children develop strategies for finding and using
information. National Reading Conference Yearbook, 47, 311-322.

Duke, N. K., & Beck, S. W. (1999). Education should consider alternative formats for the
dissertation. Educational Researcher, 28(3), 31-36.

Kamberelis, G. (1999). Genre development and learning: Children writing stories,
science reports, and poems. Research in the Teaching of English, 33(4), 403-460.

Newkirk, T. (1987). The non-narrative writing of young children. Research in the
Teaching of English, 21(2), 121-144.

Symons, S., MacLatchy-Gaudet, H., Stone, T. D., & Reynolds, P. L. (2001). Strategy
instruction for elementary students searching informational text. Scientific Studies
of Reading, 5(1), 1-33.

Tower, C. (2000). Questions that matter: Preparing elementary students for the inquiry
process. The Reading Teacher, 53(7), 550-557.

Tower, C. (2003). Genre development and elementary students' informational writing: A
review of the literature. Reading Research and Instruction, 42(4), 14-39.

MANUSCRIPT l
INFORMATIONAL WRITING IN THE CONTEXT OF SCIENCE INSTRUCTION:

THE IMPORTANCE OF TASK STRUCTURE AND TOPIC

Introduction

There has been a recent surge of theoretical and research interest in non-narrative
genres, including informational text (Bamford & Kristo, 1998; Donovan, 2001; Duke,
2000; Harvey, 1998; Hynes, 2000; Kamberelis, 1999; Kamberelis & Bovino, 1999; Kays
& Duke, 1998; Kress, 1999; Maduram, 2000; Nystrand & Graff, 2001; Pappas &
Pettegrew, 1998; Shine & Roser, 1999; Tower, 2000; Wollman-Bonilla, 2001).
Researchers and practitioners have argued that exposure to a variety of genres, including
informational text, is crucial for even the youngest students (Duke, 2000; Kamberelis &
Bovino, 1999; Tower, 2000). Indeed, many of these genres represent the “discourses of
power” that are highly valued by schools and to which all students must have access if
they are to be academically successful (Cope & Kalantzis, 1993). And although school
literacy programs often provide overwhelmingly narrative-based experiences for students
(Duke, 2000), much of what adults read and write each day are informational texts
(Smith, 2000). In addition to more accurately reflecting the world of literacy outside of
school, curricula that include informational texts can provide powerful connections to
inquiry that may help to foster students’ problem-posing and problem—solving behaviors
(Harvey, 1998; Short et al., 1996; Tower, 2000). Informational text can also serve as a
“way in” to literacy for certain students who have failed to make connections to fiction,

or who prefer reading for facts (Caswell & Duke, 1998; Hynes, 2000; J obe & Dayton-

Sakari, 2002). In addition, the visual and graphic elements of many information books
provide different ways for students to connect with books and different possibilities for
comprehension and learning of new material (Moline, 1995).

Given the importance of informational text in the world both inside and outside of
schools, it is imperative that students learn to write informational texts that are effective
in communicating information to an audience. Scholars have begun a description of the
ways in which children develop the ability to compose informational text (Donovan,
2001; Kamberelis, 1999; Newkirk, 1987). Much of this research has focused on primary
age students (Tower, 2003). Less attention has been paid to students in the intermediate
grades, and much of the work related to informational genres that has been done with
older children has focused not on writing development, but instead on information
seeking and research skills (Dreher, Davis, Waynant, & Clewell, 1998; Symons,
MacLatchy-Gaudet, Stone, & Reynolds, 2001) or assessment outcomes (Applebee,
Langer, Mullis, Latham, & Gentile, 1994). In discussing reading and writing, Langer
(1992) states that “much current research and practice runs counter to these
[developmental] notions and attempts to identify adult strategies and teach them to young
children” (p. 33). She goes on to argue that “instruction can be more productive if we
understand where students are coming from and going to within their own rule systems
for particular literacy activities” (p. 34). Given that and other arguments that teachers
should be provided with developmental information to use in guiding their writing
instruction (Donovan, 2001; Dyson & Freedman, 1990), this study aims to build our
knowledge base by describing the development of intermediate-grade children's

informational writing.

In addition to the need for close attention to development at the intermediate
grades, there is also a need for a reexamination of our methodological tools for
investigating writing and writing development (Chapman, 1995). Chapman points out
that there has been a focus in the writing research on structure in isolation from function
and instructional context. She argues that we must address “the interactions of substance,
form, context, and intention rather than focus on structure alone” (p. 190). This study
will take up that challenge by employing a variety of methodological tools to consider
both the written texts that some fourth graders created as well as the context in which
they worked as writers.

Theoretical Framework

Three theoretical perspectives guided this study: genre theory, a sociocognitive
perspective, and a developmental perspective.
Genre Theory

Genre theory provides the main framework that supports and informs this study.
Current genre theory reflects a shift from a strictly structuralist view of genre (genres are
stable categories or classes of texts) to a more social, situated view of genre (Kamberelis,
1999). Freedman and Medway (1994) state, “Genre theory makes us aware of the
irreducibly social dimension of school and university writing” (p. 18). Indeed, current
definitions of genre emphasize this social nature of discourse. For example, genre is said
to represent typified rhetorical aCtion (Miller, 1984). This new notion still recognizes that
genres can be characterized by regularities in textual form and features, but it also

expands to include the typical ways of engaging rhetorically with recurring situations;

10

thus, genres can be understood both as structures and as social processes (Coe, 1994;
Freedman & Medway, 1994; Pare & Smart, 1994).

Previous writing on genre development has emphasized the importance of
providing students with the appropriate support and instruction so that they may gain
mastery over the various types of discourse valued by schools and society (Coe, 1994;
Freedman & Medway, 1994; Kamberelis, 1999; Kamberelis & Bovino, 1999; Pare &
Smart, 1994). Informational text is one such highly valued genre. In this study,
informational texts are defined as texts that convey information about the natural and
social world (Duke, 2000). While such texts may contain elements of other genres (such
as persuasive or procedural sections (Pappas, 2002)), their primary purpose is to inform.
This study aims to consider both the textual regularities of the informational writing
produced by students and the social situations in which that writing was produced. That
is, discourse analysis of students’ texts will be supported and informed by a careful
analysis of the classroom and instructional contexts in which the students worked to
produce the writing. Thus, this study will consider both of the important elements noted
by genre theorists: genres as structures with particular linguistic and textual features, and
genres as social processes that serve particular communicative ftmctions.

A Sociocognitive Perspective on Children’s Writing

A sociocognitive perspective on literacy development acknowledges the
intertwined and inseparable nature of the individual and the social. Flower (1994) argues
that neither social nor cognitive theory makes genuine sense without the other. She states,

“The social cognitive view of literacy that is emerging in current discussions is a

11

stimulating, expansive vision, trying to embrace complexity and accept the serendipitous
work of dialectic” (p. 32). She goes on:

This vision [of literacy as a social and cognitive act] must be anchored in

observation-based, grounded theories of literate action that help explain how

social structures and cognitive processes do indeed interact at critical moments in

reading, writing, or learning. (Flower, 1994, p. 33)

Other scholars have argued that we view writing development as both an
individual and a social phenomenon (Chapman, 1995; Schultz & Fecho, 2000). Chapman
(1995) argues that we should “consider sociocultural and cognitive processes as
transactive” and “children’s written genres as sociocognitive constructions” (p. 186). In
adopting data collection and analysis methods that consider both the structure of
children’s written texts as well as the instructional context in which those texts were
produced, this study rests on the assumption that writing is a sociocognitive phenomenon
which can be more fully understood through the dual lenses of individual/cognitive and
social/contextual perspectives.

A Developmental Perspective Applied to the Intermediate Grades

Much of the research conducted on children’s informational writing development
has occurred at the primary level (Tower, 2003). Given arguments that writing is a
developmental process that is nonlinear, variable across contexts, and reflective of
classroom practices (Schultz & Fecho, 2000), it is crucial that we bring a developmental
perspective to bear on the exploration of writing at the intermediate grades. The adoption

of such a developmental perspective at the intermediate grades will enable us to gather

12

the kind of developmental information that will aid teachers and others in fostering
children’s informational writing growth.
The Need for a Developmental Perspective and Attention to Context

A brief discussion of some key studies conducted on informational writing
development will allow for a better understanding of the knowledge base that we have
begun to build, the methodological and theoretical tools employed so far in this work, and
the ways in which this study will build upon and extend our existing understandings.

In a cross-sectional study, Newkirk (1987) provided the first comprehensive
description of the intermediate forms that students produce on their way to non-narrative
writing competence. The study examined the structure of 100 pieces of non-narrative
(which N ewkirk defined as predominantly non-chronological) writing composed by
students in first, second, and third grades. Through his analysis of the written pieces,
Newkirk identified eight basic discourse structures that composed the categories into
which the writing pieces were sorted. These categories were Label, List (basic, attribute
series, and reason), Couplet, Hierarchical Attribute Series, and Paragraph (unordered and
ordered). The youngest writers wrote labels and lists with little coherent connection
between items, but by third grade, 49 percent of the pieces were classified as paragraphs.

In a related study, Donovan (2001) took up Newkirk’s challenge that researchers
begin examining the intermediate forms of writing development more closely in order to
provide labels for what children are doing. Her goal was to learn about the patterns of
development in the macro-level organization of children’s informational and story
writing. Her participants were 222 students from one school in kindergarten through fifth

grade. At the beginning of the school year, students were asked to compose two texts in

13

response to prompts delivered by the researcher. Features of students’ informational
texts were analyzed at the macro-level, because Donovan argued that research has shown
macro-level features to be more salient to children (e. g. Kamberelis, 1999). Donovan
reported intermediate forms generated by the students. Patterns in the global structures of
the children’s informational texts indicated eight categories of complexity (or
intermediate forms) in children’s developing control of the genre. The categories
identified (which were modified from Newkirk’s work) were Label, Statements, Simple
Couplet, Attribute List, Complex Couplet, Hierarchical Attribute List, Unordered
Paragraphs, and Ordered Paragraphs. By third grade, none of the children in Donovan’s
study wrote labels, and 35% of third graders wrote paragraphs (27.5% unordered, 7.5%
ordered). However, by extending her work into fifth grade, Donovan was able to
determine that the oldest children in her study still relied on the lower levels of
organization in their informational writing (e. g. attribute lists and complex couplets). She
noted that “while the complexity of writing increased across the grades [K-5] in my
study, this increase was not considerable and the oldest children still relied on the lower
levels of organization in their informational writing” (p. 436).

No other studies have examined students’ intermediate forms. However, there is
additional research (Applebee et al., 1994) to suggest that intermediate grade students
struggle with the production of information text. Therefore, it is imperative that we
investigate more carefully the developmental paths of informational writing so that we
can provide information to teachers and others who wish to support that development
(Langer, 1992). Such developmental information will take many forms, one of which will

be the continuation of the descriptions (started by Newkirk and Donovan) of the steps

14

that children take as they learn to compose informational text. The present study will
employ a variety of analytic tools in order to continue to consider informational writing
development beyond the primary grades.

Embedded within a developmental perspective is the assumption that
development occurs in contexts, and that these contexts influence children’s writing and
genre growth. For example, research conducted at the primary level has suggested that
exposure to and experience with informational texts (Duke & Kays, 1998), and
scaffolding (Kamberelis & Bovino, 1999) are important to the developing ability to
produce such texts. In her study of children’s genre development in first grade, Chapman
(1995) discussed the teacher’s role in exposing children to texts through read aloud and in
structuring writing tasks. She argued that the instructional actions taken by the teacher
influenced the genres that the children produced. Dyson’s (1984) analysis of three
children learning to write led her to assert that “different school tasks focused the
children’s attention on different aspects of the writing process” (p. 258). The piece called
attention to the importance of task structure and children’s own understandings of the
uses of written language (Dyson, 1984). Thus, previous research has acknowledged, to
varying degrees, the importance of the context in which writing occurs. It has been
argued that research attention should be focused on seeing the individual writer and text
in multiple contexts that complicate our understanding of writing process (Schultz &
Fecho, 2000). In addition to the adoption of a developmental perspective at the
intermediate level, this study also considered such instructional context features as the
levels of scaffolding (both instructional and material) provided by teachers during writing

activities, the topics and task types that students are asked to write, and the ways in which

15

instruction attends to theoretically important concerns such as purpose and audience.
Thus, this study builds upon previous work by extending models of informational writing
development, considering multiple time points in the development of the fourth graders,
employing multiple methodological tools, and examining links between the written texts
and the context in which they were produced.

Research Questions
This study examined informational writing produced by two classes of fourth graders
over the course of one school year during science instruction. The following research
questions guided the study: 1) What patterns of development of structural (macro-level)
organization and text features are found over the course of the year in these fourth grade
students’ informational writing in science? 2) In what ways do these patterns of
development relate to aspects of the instructional context?

Methods

Research Context

The research questions were addressed through a descriptive study of
informational writing of fourth graders in two classrooms.

Sample. Fourth grade students in two classrooms were invited to participate in
this study. By the time they reach fourth grade, students have instructional histories that
likely affect their ability to write all types of text, including informational text. Those
instructional histories often involve little exposure to informational texts (Duke, Bennett-
Armistead, & Roberts, 2002). However, these classrooms were selected because some
students in each classroom in this study had been involved in a recently completed study

of genre development referred to as the TEXT Study (Duke, Purcell-Gates, Tower, &

l6

Hall, 2001). The students who participated in that study experienced a particular
teaching model in their second and third grade science classes that incorporated authentic
reading and writing of informational texts and explicit teaching of the features of those
texts. Thus, these students constitute a population of students who have had at least two
years of regular exposure to and instruction about the special features of informational
text (data collected during the TEXT study confirm this). To the degree that non-TEXT
students do not have that instructional history (and again previous research suggests they
may not have had a great deal of exposure to informational text), the students introduced
potential variation into the sample of this study (Miles & Huberrnan, 1994) that helped
me to address the second research question.

For the purposes of this study, the two schools shall be called Rose Elementary
and Laurel Elementary. The principals at each of the schools were contacted for
permission to conduct the study. Teachers who participated were those who were willing
to communicate with me about their instruction and to be observed delivering that
”instruction, who agreed to be interviewed up to three times, and who agreed to set aside
any writing that was done during science class so that I might copy it during my visits. In
addition, teachers who participated had at least some TEXT students in their class during
the year of my data collection. Consent forms were sent to parents of all students in each
of the classrooms. Two students from Laurel Elementary were dropped from the study
when it became apparent that they received a substantial amount of support for their
science writing outside of the regular classroom (in a resource room). The ability to
carefully describe the instructional context in which the writing was produced was crucial

to the design of this study; thus, those two students for whom I could not describe that

17

instruction were dropped from the analyses. The final sample consisted of 44 students: 23
students at Rose Elementary (85%) and 21 students at Laurel Elementary (84%). Five of
the students from Rose Elementary and 8 of the students from Laurel Elementary had
participated in the TEXT project. (For analyses in this paper there was little difference
between children who had and had not participated in the TEXT study, so that distinction
is not a focus in later discussions.)

Rose Elementary School. Rose Elementary School is a rural school, which, in
2002, enrolled 473 students in grades 2-5. The students are predominantly white, and
26% qualify for the free or reduced lunch program (Retrieved from
http://nces.ed.gov/ccd/schoolsearch/ on December 8, 2003). The teacher, Mrs. Burke, is a
white female with 11 years of teaching experience. She usually taught science every day,
and her science curriculum was a combination of hands-on experiences, scientific
models, reading, writing, and note-taking about science topics. In addition to a strong
focus on science content, Mrs. Burke provided instruction on writing and writers’ craft.
She provided a lot of writing instruction to students during science class time. She
reported in an interview in February that she focused much of her writing instruction on
informational text:

I don’t write a lot of stories. I tend to write more factual, informational type,

because I think that in reality that’s what they’re going to do more of, in life. If

they want to write, and they want to write creatively, that’s fine, they can do that

at different times. But for the most part we focus on informational writing with a

structure to it because, they’re so weak in that.

18

This writing instruction was provided during science class time, and it was very much

tied to the science content that students were learning. Mrs. Burke described her writing

instruction as follows:
In the beginning I was making sure they have good sentence structure, that they
have good paragraph structure, that they know what makes a good paragraph a
good paragraph. Are they on topic? Do they have a topic sentence. Of course
topic sentences are something we focus on the entire year, but especially I’m
more geared to that in the beginning. I’m assuming as we go along, they’re doing;
no I shouldn’t say assuming because I’m constantly checking also, but I can kind
of leave that part of the focus behind for myself, and then I work over to, okay,
now we’re never going start with, “I’m going to tell you a story about” or “I’m
going to write a report about” or “This report is going to be”. We work the next
thing on changing our sentence structure around, starting with the end instead of
the beginning, so you don’t have to use “I” in the front all the time, or getting rid
of all the “then”s, that type of thing. From there, once they’ve, semi-got that idea,
I can add. Because if you wait until they get one idea, you may wait all year. So
you eventually, each report you have to add one more thing while you’re still
working on the rest of them. Next I’ll focus on adjectives and adverbs, and then
figures of speech, and then gradually work on more independent. So then we
continue to practice all of those things, with the things that they’re constantly
learning anyway: the punctuation, the mechanics aspects of it, you know, spelling;
those things that you’re always doing with reports, but you’re increasing and

making them more independent as they include all these other things into it.

19

Thus, the students at Rose Elementary School received writing instruction that
was focused primarily on informational types of writing, that was tied closely to the
content instruction within science, and that included careful consideration of issues of
writers’ craft. The writing that occurred in this classroom was usually referred to as
“reports”. These texts varied in length from several paragraphs to several pages. They
were usually written on lined paper, though on one occasion students wrote their final
drafts into pre-bound books with hard covers.

Laurel Elementary School. Laurel Elementary School is a suburban school,
which, in 2002, enrolled 591 students in grades K-5. The students are predominantly
white, and 14% qualify for the free or reduced lunch program. The teacher, Mrs. Moore,
is a white female with 29 years of teaching experience. Mrs. Moore reported that her
language arts instruction focused mostly on fictional genres, and such things as personal
narrative, response to literature, and mechanics of writing. The science curriculum that is
mandated by her district is based on hands-on experiences for students. Mrs. Moore
taught science 4-5 days a week, and her science instruction was focused most strongly on
science content and concepts. In an interview in October, Mrs. Moore talked about how
writing is used in conjunction with experiments:

Well, the first day, the first year we had the science program I had them writing as

they were doing experiments and of course that was ridiculous. Because they

weren’t getting hardly anything down and it was terrible what they got down.

Um, for most kids. So I made a point of most of the writing is done after they

complete the experiment. Not during it. Unless they’ve got to take a table, you

know fill out a table or graph or something as they go. But other than that, they

20

have to have time to reflect on it. And usually the next day is fine. And then
even, like a week later then going back and saying, Okay, look at this page again.
We just did this, go back now and look at it again. See comment above re
shortening
One main purpose for writing in this classroom was to aid memory.
They’ll do reports, um, I’ll probably try to do a book like that every unit we do.
Hopefully they will get better at remembering information. [think maybe we’re
gonna have to, um, take notes in their own, I think that might be a way to do it is
to make summaries. And I do need to work on summarizing. I know that. I’ve
got kids writing, some of the best kids are writing like two page summaries of
something. So I’ve gotta learn, teach them how to condense that. So, we’ll be
doing more of that. And hopefully they can do that with their notes in science
too, they’d be able to say, well let’s go through the important things and make a
list that’s real generic, you know kind of thing. Then they could write from that.
That would help them remember the topics.
Thus, the writing that occurred in science in this classroom tended to be in the service of
the hands-on experiences or of helping students to learn and remember science content,
and to display their knowledge. The writing that occurred in this classroom took various
forms, including textbook summaries, answers to questions, class books, individual books
and reports. The different types of writing varied in length (from a few paragraph to
several pages) and in materials used (including lined paper, workbook pages with

extended spaces for writing, and booklets stapled together in the center).

21

Role of the Researcher. My role within the classrooms was that of interested
observer. Students were told that I was there to learn about how children write in science,
and that I would watch their science class and take notes, copy their science writing, and
occasionally ask them questions in order to learn about their writing. The teachers were
asked not to change their instruction or their schedule in any way. My visits were
arranged during their regularly scheduled science classes. My interactions with students
and teachers were generally informal, though I did conduct formal interviews with each
teacher and with a subset of students from each class.

Data Collection

Data sources for the study include written data (copies of all written informational
texts produced during science instruction) and context data (observations and written
field notes, artifacts related to writing and instruction, and interviews with teachers and
students). The “context” to which I refer is the fourth grade classroom during the times
when science instruction was provided to students. This context included the children and
teacher, the interactions that occurred, the instruction that occurred, and the materials
within (including books. and other science text, overhead transparencies, and materials
used in science experiments and experiences). I visited each of the two classrooms once
a week during science instruction for the duration of the school year. Each visit lasted the
length of the science period, usually 30-60 minutes. I visited during science instruction
for three reasons: 1) I wanted to study informational writing in the context of an
academic content area, 2) the TEXT study (Duke, Purcell-Gates, Tower, & Hall, 2001)
was focused in the area of science instruction, and thus I would have continuity with that

project, and 3) other researchers (e. g. Chapman, 1994, 1995) have argued that work is

22

needed that considers the development of genres in varied contexts, including within
science instruction.

Written Informational Texts. I collected any writing assignments that required
texts that were at the level of sentences or higher (no answers to questions that weren’t
phrased in complete sentences or fill-in-the—blank worksheet assignments, for example)
and that conveyed information about the natural and social world (Duke, 2000). I
collected writings that were done for a variety of purposes that included genre theoretical
purposes as well as more “school-only” (Duke, Purcell-Gates, Tower, & Hall, 2001)
purposes. Thus, my sample of collected writing includes such types as answers to
questions written to display knowledge to the teacher, reports written for a grade,
information books intended to be read to first graders, and so on. However, I excluded
from my sample pieces of writing that clearly and primarily constituted a genre other than
informational. For example, I did not collect procedural writing (writing that tells
someone how to do something, and generally includes ordered steps) or recount (writing
that describes something that the writer has done, such as science experiments completed,
or something that has happened that is described in a narrative or chronological way).
The final sample consisted of 308 written texts; see Table 1 for a summary of the writing
data collected.

Context Data. In order to gather data about the instructional context in which the
writing was produced, I observed the science instruction, took field notes on that
instruction, and collected copies of all relevant artifacts (e. g. assignment guidelines;
prewriting tools such as webs, outlines, and notes). On some visits, I conducted informal

interviews with students about their writing, and/or recorded notes about informal

23

conversations with the teacher about her instruction or other contextual information.
Teachers were interviewed more formally in order to provide further background
information about writing instruction, curriculum, school and district guidelines, etc.
Data from interviews with teachers and students provided information about not only
curriculum and instructional expectations, but also about the understandings and
assumptions that they held about writing within science.
Data Analysis

This study was designed to take into account both structural and social/contextual
dimensions of genre. I conducted two different structural analyses on the written texts: a
macro-level organizational analysis and a text features analysis. Each of these was
supported by a context analysis.
Macro-level Analysis

The analysis scheme that I employed to investigate the macro-level organization
of children’s written texts was modified from the work of Donovan (2001) and Newkirk
(1987). Macro-level organizational structure and features are an important aspect of
genre. Donovan (2001) argues that there are three reasons to focus on macro-level
features when analyzing children’s informational writing: 1.) Macro-level features may
be more salient to children, 2.) Macro-level features may provide children with indirect
access to the micro-level features of the genre. and 3.) The visual tree diagrams [that are
used in the analysis] offer concrete pictures of how texts are structured that may provide
insight about genres and about how content is structured within them (p. 402). Another
reason to employ this analysis scheme to the present study is that it allowed me to extend

the work begun by Newkirk (1987) at the primary level (grades 1-3), by providing a

24

continued description of informational writing development into the intermediate grades.
Donovan’s (2001) analysis included children at the fourth and fifth grade level, but her
writing data were collected at one point in time, and in a research situation involving a
researcher-created prompt. The present study thus complements Donovan’s findings by
reporting about fourth grade children’s writing development over time and in the context
of classroom instruction and teacher assignments.

Procedures. Each written text was transcribed into T-Units. A T-Unit is defined
as a single subject/verb clause plus whatever other subordinate clauses or phrases are
attached to, or embedded within, that independent clause (Hunt, 1977). Each piece was
then organized into a hierarchical tree diagram (Donovan, 2001; Langer, 1992; Newkirk,
1987) that illustrated the connections (or lack of connections) between the T-Units, thus
providing an overall visual representation of the structure of each text. Next, each text
was classified according to its organizational structure. For this classification, I employed
categories that were modified from the work of Donovan (2001) and Newkirk (1987).
Modifications came in the form of expanded or added categories in order to better
describe the data collected. See Appendix A for a list of the categories and their
descriptions. The categories used to classify the texts in this study were simple couplet,
attribute list, complex couplet, basic sequence, hierarchical attribute list—inferred topic
sentences, hierarchical attribute list—explicit topic sentences, single paragraph,
unordered paragraph, and ordered paragraph. Texts that could not be confidently
classified into only one category were placed in a category called “mixed”. These mixed
texts contained elements of at least two of the other categories such that classifying them

into only one category would be misleading.

25

In order to establish inter-rater reliability of the macro-level organization analysis,
10% of written texts were coded by a second coder trained in the tree diagramming and
categorizing procedures. Samples were randomly selected from within each set of
writing. The second coder produced her own tree diagram of each text, and then
classified it according to the category system. The reliability reached for classifications
was 85%.
Text Features Analysis

In addition to considering macro-level organization, it is also important to
account for the development of text features of students’ informational writing. Donovan
(2001) suggested that macro-level features may provide children with indirect access to
the micro-level features of the genre. An analysis that considers both levels of genre
knowledge is therefore necessary to explore this possible connection. The second analysis
scheme that I employed considered text features (linguistic and visual), and thus, when
combined with the tree structure diagram analysis, allowed for a more thorough and inter-
connected picture of the genre development of fourth graders. This scheme was adapted
from the linguistic and visual features employed to assess students’ genre knowledge in
the TEXT study (Duke et al., 2001). These features of typical information texts were
identified through a discourse analysis of a corpus of informational texts written for
children (Purcell-Gates & Duke, 2001). See Appendix B for a description of the text
features. All of these elements from the TEXT study can be considered specific linguistic
or visual features, and thus can be distinguished from the organizational focus of the

macro-level analysis. This second analysis, by allowing a consideration of specific text

26

features, afforded the opportunity to consider different aspects of genre knowledge,
thereby complementing the macro-structure analysis.

Procedures. Each information text in this study was analyzed following the
method set out in the TEXT study (Purcell-Gates, Duke, Hall, & Tower, 2003.) I scored
each text analytically, based on the individual features of science informational text
previously identified (see Appendix B). In keeping with a focus on purpose, scores were
based on how effective the use of that feature was in providing information for the reader
and not the number of times a student used a particular feature. For example, a student
who drew only three realistic illustrations but who connected them to their text would
have received a higher score than someone who drew five illustrations that did not relate
to the text or that were merely decorative. Score points had the following definitions:

0 Zero was assigned if a feature wasn’t used because it wouldn’t have made sense
to use it. For example, if a student didn’t include illustrations or other visual
features in a text, then that text would receive a score of “O” for the
“labels/captions” category, since there would have been no need to use labels or
captions if there were no pictures or diagrams.

0 One was assigned if a feature, such as illustrations, was not used and could have
been to provide information the reader may want.

0 Two was assigned when a feature was used at least once but may have been more
confusing than effective in terms of providing information.

0 Three was assigned when a feature was used fairly effectively but could have

been used better to provide information for the reader.

27

0 Four was assigned when a feature was used effectively, but had a small instance
of instability in terms of effectiveness in providing information for the reader.
0 Five was assigned when a feature was used as effectively and as clearly as

possible (Purcell-Gates et al., 2003).

Once all the texts had been scored, average scores were computed for each
feature, both within a particular writing set and overall for each classroom. Interrater
reliability among the raters for this study was established during the TEXT project for
this scoring system. Generalizability theory analyses conducted as a part of the TEXT
project showed that individual raters (of which there were three, with interrater reliability
assessed on approximately 10% of randomly selected texts) had little or no effect on
scores, with G = .85 - .92.

Context Analysis

The context analysis considered the data that supported and extended an
understanding of the written texts: field notes of observations, instructional artifacts, and
interviews with teachers and students. This contextual information served to support the
discourse analysis by providing a detailed picture of the rhetorical and communicative
situations in which the students were working. Since genre theory reminds us of the
importance of both the structural and the social/contextual aspects of genre, it is
important that these structural discourse analyses be supported by a careful consideration
of the instructional context in which the writing occurred.

This analysis started with the written field notes. Field notes were hand-written
on field note forms that contained three columns, labeled “Time”, “Activities (including

purpose and audience for writing, if applicable)”, and “Books, other text used or

28

stimulating, expansive vision, trying to embrace complexity and accept the serendipitous
work of dialectic” (p. 32). She goes on:

This vision [of literacy as a social and cognitive act] must be anchored in

observation-based, grounded theories of literate action that help explain how

social structures and cognitive processes do indeed interact at critical moments in

reading, writing, or learning. (Flower, 1994, p. 33)

Other scholars have argued that we view writing development as both an
individual and a social phenomenon (Chapman, 1995; Schultz & Fecho, 2000). Chapman
(1995) argues that we should “consider sociocultural and cognitive processes as
transactive” and “children’s written genres as sociocognitive constructions” (p. 186). In
adopting data collection and analysis methods that consider both the structure of
children’s written texts as well as the instructional context in which those texts were
produced, this study rests on the assumption that writing is a sociocognitive phenomenon
which can be more fully understood through the dual lenses of individual/cognitive and
social/contextual perspectives.

A Developmental Perspective Applied to the Intermediate Grades

Much of the research conducted on children’s informational writing development
has occurred at the primary level (Tower, 2003). Given arguments that writing is a
developmental process that is nonlinear, variable across contexts, and reflective of
classroom practices (Schultz & Fecho, 2000), it is crucial that we bring a developmental
perspective to bear on the exploration of writing at the intermediate grades. The adoption

of such a developmental perspective at the intermediate grades will enable us to gather

12

displayed”. Those notes were typed, and questions, comments and patterns were noted.
The field notes were then read and reread as I made notes about the amount and type of
writing instruction that teachers provided, as well as notes on information related to the
writing situations in each classroom. The unit of analysis that emerged was the writing
assignment/task. This unit was defined as one particular written assignment or task that
the class was instructed to complete, as well as all accompanying artifacts (e.g. rough
drafts, rubrics, prewriting tools) and instruction that surrounded and supported that task.
Analysis proceeded by listing all of the writing tasks that were at least partially
informational in genre that occurred during science in each classroom (Rose Elementary:
6 tasks; Laurel Elementary: 11 tasks). Next, I focused on each task in turn and made up
an information sheet for each one that included detailed notes on the amount and type of
writing instruction that surrounded the task, the artifacts that supported the task, and any
interview information related to the task. These information sheets were considered in
conjunction with the discourse analysis results from the two structural analyses.
Results

Results of the context analysis, in conjunction with a consideration of the
structural analyses, revealed two overarching factors that seem to be related to the
organization and text feature usage of the written texts: task structure and topic. The task
structure factor has several dimensions, including the level of scaffolding typically
provided by the teacher for each structure, the purpose associated with tasks of each
structure, and the audience for those tasks. Topic refers to the assigned topic of the
writing task. Students wrote in various categories of topic, including earth science,

biology (animals), and physical science.

29

No clear developmental trends emerged from the analysis. Students’ written texts
varied in ways that seemed to be significantly influenced by the task; by interpretations of
the task demands, the purpose of the task, and the topic of the writing task.

Task Structure: Macro-level Organization

The results of the macro-level organization varied within the context of different
factors related to the writing task that the students were assigned. These factors were the
level of scaffolding provided by the teacher, the expectations and focus of the teacher’s
instruction, and the type of task and the purpose and audience for writing that
accompanied the task.

Scajfolding. Researchers have considered, and argued for the importance of,
scaffolding as a factor in writing instruction and development (Donovan & Smolkin,
2002; Kamberelis & Bovino, 1999). In this study, scaffolding was defined broadly as
support provided by the teacher to students as they completed writing tasks in science.
The types of scaffolding that students received fell into six broad categories (see
Appendix C). Scaffolding came in the form of 1) specific writing instruction during
science, 2) the provision of pre-writing tools, 3) the use of rough drafts and opportunities
for revision, 4) feedback from the teacher and peers that was provided prior to the final
draft, 5) the provision of specific guidelines of content to include in the written texts and
grading criteria, and 6) the availability of text resources. As a part of the context analysis,
each writing task was coded according to the level of scaffolding that was provided by
the teacher during the time in which the students completed it. A task was coded “High”
if students received five or six of the types of scaffolding, “Moderate” if they received

three or four types, and “Low” if they received one or two types. There were no instances

30

of students receiving no scaffolding; all writing task situations included at least one form
of scaffolding.

Scafiolding and macro-level organization. The results of this analysis show the
level of scaffolding to be associated with the organizational structures that students
employed (see Tables 2 and 3). That is, when students did writing in contexts of high
levels of scaffolding, they tended to write texts with more sophisticated organizations. At
Rose Elementary, Mrs. Burke provided students with consistently high levels of
scaffolding on all but one writing task (see Table 2). Usually, the students in this class
were highly scaffolded. They spent a great amount of time on each task, they completed
multiple drafts, they received ongoing instruction and feedback, and they were provided
with several types of written artifacts (pre-writing tools, organizational guidelines,
grading criteria). Mrs. Burke described the need for supporting her students as writers:

Prior to three-four years ago, I didn’t write down what they needed per paragraph,

and l was not getting very good writing. And it sounds like it’s very formatted, it

sounds like it’s boring, it’s not creative, but the bottom line is if you don’t tell
them specifically “you need a paragraph with this many sentences, you better
have three adjectives, and I want a figure of speech” [laughing] they’re not going
to do it. They’re fourth graders. They’re gonna do what they can get away with
doing. But if it’s an expectation you set from the start, they meet it. So in the
beginning I’ll start with something like this [shows some pre-writing forms] and

I’ll actually have the web there, and I’ll tell them exactly what they need: three

different aspects, gather the facts...and we’ll web together, and that’s how we start

the webbing. So that they get an idea because you don’t know where they’ve

31

come in at... And I will start with writing a rough draft, and organizing, and I’ll
tell them exactly what they need in each paragraph. In the beginning it’s real
basic. By the time we get to [later writing assignments], they’ve got a checklist
for things that they need in each paragraph... And we lean now towards
continuity and smoothness: does it flow, does your writing flow, did you include
everything, it goes without saying that you’ve got to have your figures of speech
and adjectives and adverbs, now does it make sense? That type of thing. So we’ll
do a lot more practicing, and I’ll be expecting from this point on basically to

polish. (Interview, February 2003)

In the context of such guidelines and instructional support, the students at Rose
Elementary tended to write extended texts (average length: 44 T-Units) that employed the
more sophisticated organizations. The last task, a paragraph on a constellation, was an
exception. However, it was completed under very different instructional circumstances. It
occurred during the same time that students were working on a much larger writing task
(that was not analyzed for this study because it did not meet the study’s definition of
informational text). The teacher, Mrs. Burke, reported that

“the constellations was an ‘in the meantime’ project, meaning that we did those as

we could squeeze them in. Some [students] finished, some did not because they

were working on other writing pieces. They didn’t devote the time to those, nor
were they given the time to develop them as they normally had been given. The
focus was more on being able to find specific information and put it into a quick

draft, than full development. I think I checked those for content rather than

32

writing (i.e., a science grade as opposed to a writing grade)” (Email

communication, Spring 2003)
Thus, the one task for which they received a low level of scaffolding was the one task for
which they employed the least sophisticated organizations. The high level of use of
attribute list (50%) and of mixed organizations (25%) may be associated with the lack of
time and support that was provided to students during the completion of this task.

At Laurel Elementary, the students received more varying levels of scaffolding
(see Table 3). In contrast to the writing situations at Rose Elementary, the students at
Laurel Elementary spent less time on each writing task, and the resulting texts were
shorter (average length: 12 T-Units). In contexts with high levels of scaffolding, the
students tended to use paragraph organizations more frequently. In contexts of low and
moderate levels of scaffolding, there was a lot of variation in the organizations used. The
tasks for which students received a high level of scaffolding were those for which the
teacher provided specific writing instruction, usually in the form of an outline to follow.
These outlines provided organizational support for the students’ writing by indicating
what information to include and presenting an order in which to present that information.
For the most part, students followed these guidelines, and their resulting organizational
structures often mirrored the guidelines. In the Magnetism and Electricity books (see
Table 3), for example, all students included the required information in their individual
books. The two students who didn’t elaborate very much at all on each subtopic wrote
complex couplets (9.5%). Four students wrote hierarchical attribute lists that included
subtopics that contained the required information, and all used explicit topic sentences

based on the provided table of contents. The majority of students (67%) wrote unordered

33

paragraphs, the highest level of organization used at this school. The paragraphs tended
to include topic sentences that were again based on information provided by the teacher
in the table of contents. In contrast, in the context of low levels of scaffolding such as the
free write (“earth”, Table 3), students’ text organizations were more varied and less often
employed paragraph organizations.

Teacher’s expectations and focus of instruction. Factors in the instructional
contexts in these two classrooms, including the level of scaffolding that students received
during writing and the instructional focus of each teacher, seem to be associated with the
texts that were produced in those contexts.

The talk that students shared in their interviews with me reflected the two
different instructional foci of the classrooms (which were, in turn, related to the amount
of scaffolding that each teacher provided). At Rose Elementary, Mrs. Burke focused both
on science content and on issues of quality writing and writer’s craft. She provided
extensive instruction on writing during science class, and she required that students
employ such writing techniques as figurative language and careful attention to audience
in their written science texts. In my interviews with students there, it was evident that the
children understood these expectations.

Cathy: Why do you think she wants you to do this assignment?

David: Mmm, to build our writing skills and stuff like that

Cathy: You’ve done owls, and matter, and... why do you think she has you write

all those reports?

34

Charlie: So we can, so we can know about matter and all that. And to learn how
to actually make a report.
Student writers at Rose Elementary paid attention to their craft, and also to the
expectations that Mrs. Burke set forth:
Cathy: Why did you choose to put those [similes] in?
Robert: I just thought they were kind of funny and they had a small humor to

them, but they also still worked with what I had written.

Cathy: How did you make decisions about starting out your sections?

John: Well, she [Mrs. Burke] said to not just do “Wolves, blah blah, blah blah”

and all that stuff, really boring, but to do something interesting.

Cathy: And why do you think it’s important to Mrs. Burke, or that it’s important

that it be interesting?

John: Because then the reader doesn’t just read a couple sentences and then they

go “Well, that’s pretty boring, I’m not reading that.” (laughs)

Thus, students at Rose Elementary were aware of the expectation that they not only learn
science content, but that they also learn to become better writers of science text.

At Laurel Elementary, Mrs. Moore focused more exclusively on science content
and the scientific method, with less explicit attention to writing and writing instruction
during science. In my interviews with the students there, I started by asking them to tell
me about the different types of writing that they did in science. In answer to that question,

nearly all of the students described some aspect of content, or else described a recent

35

experiment (investigation) that they had done. I found it difficult to get the students to
discuss the type, style, or format of their writing rather than its content.
Cathy: Can you tell me a little bit about the different kinds of writing that you do
in science?
Sarah: Well, we do writing about the experiments that we do, like paper airplanes,
we threw it, and um, we threw it to see how long, how far it could go, and, I
forget whose when the furthest, but it had a small wingspan. That’s probably why
it went the farthest. And then, just a few weeks ago, we did the experiments

about electric circuits.

Cathy: Can you tell me a little bit about the kinds of writing that you do in
science?

Chris: Well, we do about like, urn, energy, changes, like, energy changes, and um,
we do atoms, how many electric charges are in atoms, and um, what is it called? I
forget this one thing, it’s called this something thingy, and um, we write about
like, we do the experiment, like um, we wrote about, urn, how like we put baking
soda and water up in this canister and then we put, um, vinegar in it and it pops

open and the same thing with a volcano.

Cathy: Can you tell me a little bit about the different kinds of writing that you do
in science this year?
Laura: Um, well, we’ve been writing about static electricity and different forms of

electricity. How it works and, charges. We’ve learned about different types of

36

electricity and what happens with electricity, and what the charges are, like

positive charges and negative charges.

Cathy: Can you tell me a little bit about the different kinds of writing that you do

in science?

Matthew: We do writing on motion, force, energy. We study electricity, how it

works, where it works, what kind of charges there are, what, how they gain and

lose charges and, what makes, um, what charges atoms can get.
Mrs. Moore’s students seemed particularly focused on issues of content, which reflected
her focus in science instruction. Thus, the instructional focus of each classroom was an
important context factor that can help us to understand the written texts that the students
produced. At Rose Elementary, where the instructional focus was on both science and
writing, and where students spent extended amounts of time on nearly every writing task,
students produced texts that were long and that often (44% of the time) employed
paragraph organizations. At Laurel Elementary, the instructional focus was on science
content and hands-on experiences, and the writing that occurred was more varied in
length and purpose. The written texts at Laurel also varied in length and organizational
structure. The interview data indicates that students were well aware of the focus of
instruction within their science classrooms.

Task type, purposes, and audiences for writing. Another dimension of task
structure was the type of task that students were asked to complete. Each task type tended

to have a particular writing purpose and a particular audience associated with it. These

37

task types, in turn, provided different writing contexts in which students produced texts
with different organizational structures and varying usage of text features.

At Rose Elementary, the type of task didn’t vary, and thus this factor didn’t prove
illuminating with regard to that school’s data. All of the writing tasks were called
“reports”; students wrote an “owl report”, a “matter report”, and so on. The constellations
writing was one exception, as noted above, in that it was considerably shorter and much
less scaffolded than the others, but it was still a form of a report.

At Laurel Elementary, however, there were five different task types, and these
types were associated with the use of various organizational structures (see Table 4). The
types of task employed were free writing, textbook summaries, a compare/contrast piece,
class books, and individual books or reports. Each type of task was consistently
associated with a particular level of scaffolding. The free writing task had a low level of
scaffolding, the textbook summaries had a low to moderate level of scaffolding, the
compare/contrast and class books had a moderate level of scaffolding, and the individual
books and reports had a high level of scaffolding.

The types of task were also associated with different writing purposes. The free
writing and textbook summaries served the purpose of displaying science knowledge to
the teacher; they were used as assessments and checks of students’ knowledge and
understanding of science content and concepts. They were written to an already
knowledgeable audience. The books and reports, while still serving something of an
assessment purpose, were also intended for a larger, presumably less knowledgeable
audience and meant to teach this audience about a topic. This purpose seemed to be

associated with more attention to language, and thus more sophisticated organizations

38

and more varied use of text features. For example, the Rocks and Minerals (R&M) class
book was written for second graders. Thus, Mrs. Moore focused on language in a way
that she typically didn’t with other tasks. She used the second grade audience as a way to
push her students to be clear in their explanations (“Will a little kid know what that is?”)
and to define all specialized vocabulary words (“Remember to explain these hard words
to little kids. They don’t know ‘classify’, they don’t know ‘sedimentary’”).

A consideration of the instructional context that surrounded the writing tasks
allows for a more complete understanding of the organizational structures that the
students ultimately employed in their writing. For example, consider the free writing task
of October 2. The unusual nature of the task (this was the first, and only, free writing task
that students did in science), the vague directions, and the lack of a particular purpose
(besides showing the teacher some knowledge of earth materials) resulted in a set of
writing that was varied in terms of genre, style, and level of sophistication. Mrs. Moore
set up the free writing task with the following instructions on the chalkboard: “Write
about earth materials: clay, sand, silt, soil, rocks, minerals”. The teacher stated orally,
“Free write on anything you want on earth materials; anything that you want that’s in
your head, anything you remember about earth materials and want to say about it.” She
went on to instruct them to write a text of about one page, or two to three paragraphs, in
length. Because a parent volunteer had failed to show up on this day, Mrs. Moore was
forced to supervise the small group that was working in the hallway on an investigation.
Thus, she wasn’t readily available to students as they were writing. She did pop into the
classroom periodically, sometimes giving them reminders such as “you’re not supposed

to be talking.” For this writing task, students were left mostly to their own devices, and

39

the resulting texts demonstrated a range of genres, styles, and levels of sophistication. All
but four texts had at least some elements of informational genre in them, and many
students wrote hybrid texts that included elements of recount and/or persuasive/opinion.
(The four texts that didn’t include any elements of informational genre were recounts or
procedural texts, and they were not included in the analysis). Shana’s text sounded very
informational:

Different minerals have different uses. For instance, sulfur is use to make
matches and graphite is use make pencil lead....

Minerals make up rocks. Like quartz is a mineral in granite. A mineral in
Basalt is olivine.

Lighter minerals are usually in lighter rocks. Darker minerals are usually
in darker rocks. But sometimes darker minerals are in lighter rocks and lighter
minerals are in darker rocks.

Jason’s text discussed his personal preference as a way to lead into the information he
presented:

I like rocks because they can be all diffrent shapes and sizes.... My
favorite kinds of rocks are Graphite, Satin Spar, Amazonite, Muscovite, Obsidian.
I like those kinds of rocks because they have lots of different color minerals in
them. Some of them have luster. Graphite is my very favorite because it makes
pencil led.

Laura’s text was primarily informational, but she did something that became a common
technique in this classroom: she used the first person pronoun in reporting her

knowledge. This use of “I learned” seemed a logical rhetorical move in a classroom

40

where the teacher expected students to display their science knowledge through writing.
Here is an excerpt of Laura’s free writing text:

What I learned about earth materials is that some rocks can have little tiny
particles that can’t be seen. I also learned that there is a white powdery earth
material called clay.... Plus I learned that rocks can be created into a useful item....

These free writes were the most mixed in genre of any of the texts collected for this
study.

The textbook summaries served a similar purpose of allowing the teacher to check
students’ understanding of recently studied science concepts. Again, the task structure
was related to the ways in which the students organized their writing. For the electricity
textbook summary (elec, April 4) for example, Mrs. Moore assigned the students to read
four pages in the science textbook and then use a pre-writing tool to help them in locating
the main idea and supporting details. Students were to use the highlighted vocabulary in
the textbook as the details, and they were further expected to use those vocabulary words
in their summary. Some students were able to make explicit connections among the ideas
in the summary, but others were not. If the students weren’t able to make those explicit
connections and supply cohesive devices, then their texts were less sophisticated. Chris,
for example, wrote a text that was simply a list of the vocabulary words and their
definitions, which was thus categorized as an attribute list:

electric circuit is a path that moves continuously. electric current is the
continuous movement of electrons. conductor is a material through which

electrons move easily. filament is a thin wire inside the bulb. This filament is

41

made of the metal tungsten. insulator is a material though which electrons do not

move easily. a swich is what thurns lights on.

In contrast, Laura wrote a more cohesive text that was classified as a single paragraph:
Electric current moving electrons in a circle. The conductor (copper wire)
moves the electrons easily. The insalator covers the wire so the electric charge

doesn’t charge you. The circuits path helps the electrons move continuously. In a

light bulb the cunductor is the filament. That’s the thin wire in the bulb made of

tungsten. the tungsten lights the bulb.

The single paragraph organization was only used by students at Laurel
Elementary, and it was used most often in one particular task structure: the class book.
The class book task structure required each student to contribute one page on a particular
subtopic of the larger topic. Thus, these texts tended to be short, and the most
sophisticated organization that was logical to employ was usually the single paragraph.
The students knew that their text was only a part of a larger text. In contrast, the
individual books and report were single-author pieces, so students were required to write
longer texts that were organized across several subtopics. These task requirements, along
with the additional writing purpose of teaching others about a topic and higher levels of
scaffolding, often resulted in the use of unordered paragraphs.

Once again, the interview data provide some insight into the ways that the
' students were making sense of another aspect of the instructional context. In this case, the
students at Laurel Elementary reported on purposes for writing that reflected the purposes
embedded within the instructional expectations and demands of their teacher and of the

science curriculum: to record data, to aid memory, to support learning, to show

42

accountability by demonstrating knowledge and attention, and occasionally to teach

others.

Cathy: Okay, and why do you do that kind of writing?
Terri: Because, well, it helps me remember things, because when I write down
notes first it’s a lot easier to remember my notes, when I have to, like, if I write

like a whole paragraph, and I gotta pick out what things I had in the investigation.

Cathy: Why do you think she wants you to do writing when you’re doing science?
Chris: So that we learn

Cathy: So that you learn?

Chris: a lot more.

Cathy: Okay. How do you think it helps you learn more?

Chris: Urn, it helps us because, if she just told us you could easily forget, but if

you have a paper you can easily look back and remember it all.

Laura: Well, what she does is we read in our textbook, a paragraph, and then at
the end she doesn’t let us look in the book and we have to write down what we
learned from the paragraph.

Cathy: Why do you think she asks you to do that?

Laura: Well, um, to see if we were paying attention.

Cathy: Why do you think Mrs. Moore wants you to write about your science

experiments?

43

Marie: So we, so she knows that we were really doing the science experiment, and
that we didn’t make our parents do it or something.
Cathy: Oh, okay. Soto check up on you, kind of.
Marie: Yeah and so that we learned something from it.
Cathy: And what about when she asks you to read the textbook and write about
that, or write what you learned. Do you think that’s the same? Or are there other
reasons that she asks you to do that?
Marie: So that we were paying attention and not like fooling around.
Cathy: Okay. And then, um, same question for the books. Is that the same thing,
or are there other reasons for writing books?
Marie: Same thing.
Unlike Marie, who seems to see an accountability purpose for all of the types of writing
they do, Matthew has a more varied view of the purposes for the different writing tasks:
Cathy: Okay, and how do you think the writing about experiments helps you?
Matthew: Well, it helps us remember how we do it and um, where we did it and
how long it took and how far or what happened. So usually it helps us remember.
Cathy: It helps you remember stuff? Okay, I understand. Um, another thing that
I’ve noticed is that [you write textbook summaries].
Matthew: Yes
Cathy: Okay, and how does that kind of writing help you?
Matthew: Well it helps us learn more about electricity and, um, protons, um,

electricity (pause) and electricity.

Cathy: Okay. So when you’re writing about your experiments, that’s to help you

remember?

Matthew: Yeah.

Cathy: But then when you’re writing about things from the textbook, that’s to

help you learn about things?

Matthew: Yes.

Cathy: One other thing I’ve noticed is that sometimes you write books, right?

Matthew: Yes.

Cathy: How is that different from the other kinds of writing?

Matthew: Well, ‘cause when you’re writing a book it’s telling about a whole

thing, it’s not a small part of a really big thing.

Cathy: I see. Okay. And how does this help you? If one of ‘em helps you

remember, and this one [summary] helps you learn, how does this help you, do

you think?

Matthew: Well it helps us teach other people to like, learn about different things.
Since I did not interview each student after each piece of writing, I cannot connect
individual comments on writing purpose to each individual written text. However, in
general the data seem to support the hypothesis that purpose matters a great deal in
writing. Even within the same instructional context, different students can have varied
understandings of the purposes for the writing tasks that they complete. In this classroom,
these views reflected the purposes that were embedded within the assignments and the

curriculum.

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Task Structure: Use of Text Features

There are clear relationships between use of text features and task structure and
task expectations as set by the teacher. (Tables 5 and 6 show text features results for both
schools.) At Rose Elementary, all of the pieces were viewed as “reports”, so there is
similarity in purpose and structure across sets of writing. Given this, there was variation
in the usage of particular features depending upon the structure and instruction provided
by the teacher for any given report assignment. This was true, for example, of the
categories of Denotative Language, Compare/Contrast, and Realistic Illustrations. For
Denotative Language, the range of student scores was 3-5 across all of the writing sets,
indicating that students used language intended to describe or provide specific
information about a topic on every piece. In fact, Mrs. Burke required students to
carefully describe aspects of the topic in each assignment. She indicated this requirement
through both oral and written directions. However, her emphasis on the use of figurative
language did result in lower scores on this category at times. Whereas the scoring guide I
used scored high for denotative language, but lower when connotative language was used
instead, the teacher required and modeled the use of connotative language. Thus,
students who followed her instructions would score lower on this category.

Use of the Compare/Contrast category overall was relatively low (average score:
2.68), with the most tasks showing a range of scores from 1-3 or 1-4. On the wolf report,
however, the teacher required a section in which the students were to compare and
contrast wolves and dogs. The average score on this category for the wolf reports was
4.35, and the range increased to 3-5. The third example of a category associated with

teacher expectations is Realistic Illustrations. If Mrs. Burke didn’t explicitly require

46

 

illustrations, then students didn’t use them at all (this was the case for 4 of the 6 sets,
average score: 1.0). In the two sets for which she did require illustrations, students used
them (with an average score of 3.72).

Thus, it seems that the use of certain text features didn’t happen “naturally” or
spontaneously, despite the fact that students had used books and other print materials that
contained those features. Some text features were only used when the teacher explicitly
required them. At Rose Elementary, at least, the students were required to attend to many
cognitive tasks as they were writing. It is possible that they were only able to handle so
many of these tasks at a time, and as a result they focused on the ones required by the
teacher for each task assignment. With regard to illustrations, there may have been a
sense that “drawing pictures” was not the same as writing, and that the writing was the
higher priority task. Illustrations came only if time permitted, and often it didn’t. This
was likely the case at Laurel Elementary, which I will discuss later. At Rose Elementary,
student interviews did indicate that students understood writing (that is, composing text)
to be the most important task, with drawing pictures a secondary concern:

Cathy: Could you talk to me about your pictures? How did you choose what

things to draw and, did you do the pictures first or the writing first?

Rick: You did the writing first, I did the writing first.

Cathy: Okay.

Rick: You’re supposed to or you get in big trouble with Mrs. Burke.

Cathy: You get in big trouble if you don’t do the writing first?

Rick: Yeah. ‘Cause she wants you to do the report and stuff first.

47

Rick’s comments indicate that he sees illustrations as being separate from the report itself
(“she wants you to do the report and stuff first”). Such a view of drawing and visual
elements of text as being separate from the rest of the text, or as being only add-ons or
decorations, would certainly have implications for children’s understanding of genres and
genre features. I will return to this idea in the discussion section.

Unlike at Rose Elementary, where all of the tasks were of the same type (reports),
at Laurel Elementary there were five main types of writing tasks, each with different
purposes, structures, teacher requirements, and levels of scaffolding. Again, the task
structure and requirements as set by the teacher were associated with the students’ use of
text features. Here, I will present examples from the categories of Headings,

C ompare/Contrast, and Realistic Illustrations.

One category that was related to task structure was Headings. Students used no
(or almost no) headings in the free write, textbook summary, and compare/contrast tasks
(average: 1.11). In contrast, headings were used moderately to highly effectively in the
book structures (average: 3.8). Use was highest and most effective in the individual
books (2 sets, average 4.88), in which students were responsible for the entire structure of
the book (as opposed to only being responsible for one page of the class books).
Interestingly, use of headings was lower in the animal reports (average: 2.9). Perhaps the
students saw some difference in purpose or structure between the tasks called “books”
and the task called “report”. Indeed, perhaps students associated the feature of headings
with books exclusively, and thus used headings only in tasks that were labeled “book”.

Like at Rose Elementary, the Compare/Contrast category results at Laurel

Elementary varied along with task requirements. There was one assignment in which

48

 

students were explicitly required to compare and contrast the two animals that they had in
their classroom (frogs and crabs). The average score for this category on the
compare/contrast assignment was 4.94 (see table 6). Students rarely used
compare/contrast on the other assignments. The average score for that category on all ten
other assignments was 1.4.

The use of Realistic Illustrations also varied according to the type of task.
Students didn’t use them at all in the free writes, and they rarely used them in the text
summaries. In fact, on his energy textbook summary, Darren drew a diagram at the
bottom of his page (under his written text). Next to the drawing, Mrs. Moore wrote,
“Don’t spend time on a complicated drawing when writing a summary!” The task
structure didn’t allow the use of illustrations on the compare/contrast piece. That task was
completed in a workbook. The workbook page had plenty of lines for writing text, but
little white space in which a picture could be added. On those three types, the average
score for this category was 1.03. On the books, however, students did use illustrations
(average score across book sets: 3.87). In this classroom, it seems that illustrations were
“extra” (not necessarily decorative, but not as important as writing). Students used
illustrations in books that were meant for a wider audience (as opposed to the text
summaries, which were written for the teacher exclusively). Students reported in their
interviews that they were supposed to do the writing first, and then go back and add
illustrations. Indeed, some of the slower writers didn’t include illustrations at all, which
may indicate the priority on composing written text—writing comes first, and

illustrations are to be done only if time permits.

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Thus, the overarching factor of task structure, with its dimensions of level of
scaffolding, focus of instruction, purpose and audience, created varying contexts in which
students produced texts with varying macro-level organizations and text feature use.
Topic: Macro-level Organization

The other overarching factor to emerge from the analyses was topic. Topic
emerged as an important factor when students received consistently high levels of
scaffolding, as they did at Rose Elementary. As discussed in the previous sections, the
variation in the use of written organizations at Laurel Elementary seems most related to
the level of scaffolding and the type of task (See Tables 3 and 4). At Rose Elementary,
where students did only one type of task and where they received consistently high levels
of scaffolding, topic was the factor most associated with variations in their written
organizations (see Table 7).

Some writing topics, such as animals, seem to place fewer constraints on writers
than other topics, such as matter. When writing about owls, it doesn’t seem to matter so
much whether students first write about their feeding habits and then their physical
characteristics, or vice versa. Thus, unordered paragraphs may be a perfectly acceptable
and sufficiently sophisticated organization for this topic. Ascribing a hierarchy to the
organizational category system becomes problematic here in that it may lead us to judge a
text “less sophisticated” when in fact that text is organized in the most reasonable way for
the topic. However, when writing about atoms, it makes sense to first define an atom,
then explain that it has three types of particles, then list the particles, and so forth. In this
case, unordered paragraphs likely indicate some failure on the part of the writer to present

the information in an accessible, understandable way. The topic of the writing, then,

50

 

seems to have a relationship to the type of organizational structure that is most effective
or logical to employ.

Some examples may help to illustrate this point. Ella is a student at Rose
Elementary who used paragraph organizations (either unordered or ordered) for five of
the six written texts that she produced over the course of the year. Figures 1 and 2 display
her Matter and Owl reports and the corresponding tree diagrams. It could be argued that
both of these texts are quite sophisticated for a fourth grader. Within the owl report, there
is evidence of the use of an introductory paragraph that previews the content to follow.
The rest of the report does, indeed, follow the order of this preview that Ella presented.
However, because she could have chosen to order those introductory sentences
differently without changing the overall meaning of the text, her organization is labeled
“unordered paragraphs”. This use of a “less sophisticated” organization doesn’t result
from Ella’s inability to carefully plan and organize her text. Instead, it seems to be a
result of the topic about which she is writing. It seems that animal topics, one popular set
of topics at the fourth grade level, are quite “free-wheeling” in their possible
organizational structures. They do not seem to constrain writers very much. Topics such
as this may allow writers to make more creative decisions while still adhering to the
purpose of the informational genre, which is to convey information about the natural or
social world in a way that is comprehensible to a reader who wants or needs the
information.

The topic of matter, on the other hand, seems to place more constraints on a
writer. In order to adhere to the purpose of the informational genre while conveying

information about matter in a comprehensible way, a writer has fewer choices in terms of

51

 

the organizational structure she uses. The information pertaining to the topic of matter is
more hierarchical, and thus an effective written text must be more hierarchically arranged

See Ella’s Matter Report in Figure 2. She begins, some might argue less skillfully
than in her owl report, by giving some general information about matter and atoms. The
following information builds on and expands this opening information. She describes
atoms in detail (units 1015). Next she describes elements, which are made up of one
kind of atom (units 16-19). Next she describes mixtures, again relating the new concept
back to the information about atoms by telling us that “mixtures are made of atoms in
different amounts” (units 20-25). Next she presents special kinds of mixtures: solutions
and suspensions (units 26—30). As she moves on to explain compounds (units 31-37), she
continues to refer to previously discussed concepts such as mixtures and atoms. Her tree
diagram indicates the sophistication of her text (see Figure 2). She organizes her report
by helping the reader to understand that “everything is made of atoms” (unit 9). Unlike
the owl report, any changes in the order of the paragraphs in the matter report would
result in a change in the overall meaning of the text. The hierarchical nature of the
information on matter dictated the use of ordered paragraphs in order to convey that
information effectively to a reader.
Topic: Use of Text Features

There are also some connections between use of text features and topic,
particularly in the data from Rose Elementary. Scores for Attributes/Components and
Characteristic Events were highest at both schools on animal-related topics. At Rose
Elementary, use of Definitions received a relatively low average score overall (2.00), but

on the matter report, the score for that category was 4.6 (see table 5). This report

52

 

contained a large number of words that were entirely new to the students. Perhaps they
thus chose to include definitions because they assumed that their audience might be new
to these words as well. Alternatively, perhaps they defined the new words as a way to
show their teacher all that they had learned. This large number of new words is likely
related to the perfect score that the matter reports received on Specialized Vocabulary as
well. Also, both of the earth science topic pieces (Matter and Earth) got higher than
average scores on Denotative Language (4.95 and 4.88, compared to the overall average
of 4.13). One possible explanation for this finding is that the earth science topics are
simply harder to use figurative or connotative language to describe. Whereas students
called wolves “beautiful creatures” or “fierce hunters”, it could be harder to be so
“connotative” when discussing compounds and solutions. It is possible that these topic
findings support the hypothesis discussed earlier in reference to the macro-level
organization results that some topics (such as animals) may be more “free-wheeling” than
others, such as matter, which require a stricter adherence to a particular organizational
structure and, perhaps, to particular stylistic and text feature constraints.

Thus, the results of this study indicate the importance of two context features: task
structure and topic. The written texts that the students wrote varied along with variations
in the instructional context related to such factors as the level of scaffolding, the purpose
and audience for writing, the focus of instruction in science, and the assigned topic.

Discussion

This study, which applied a developmental focus and multiple methodological

tools to the examination of intermediate grade students’ informational writing, extended

and built upon previous work by presenting a picture of student writing that was

53

 

necessarily complex and multi-faceted. By attending to both the structural and social
dimensions of writing as advocated by genre theory, we can begin to understand the paths
that students take as they learn to write informational text within particular instructional
contexts. As others have argued (Donovan, 2001; Dyson & Freedman, 1990; Langer,
1992), such an understanding of development is necessary for anyone who wishes to
support young writers as they move on their journey towards competency in academic
written tasks and participation in discourse communities.

The results of this study should be considered within the following limitations:
first, the study included only two classrooms. While the small sample provided the
opportunity for a close-up look at the writing that occurred, readers should take care in
generalizing the findings to other contexts. Second, the descriptive nature of the study
precludes the drawing of any causal inferences. Instead, the data provides a picture of
fourth graders’ informational writing in two different instructional contexts.

This study has led to new insights into genre and children’s informational writing,
as well as to further consideration of the questions and challenges related to methodology
and theory and concems that can guide future research.

New Insights

The discourse analysis of the written texts provided further data that will allow us
to understand the “intermediate steps” (Newkirk, 1987) that children take on their way to
competence in informational writing. But the added context analysis provided a rich
picture of the instructional situations in which the texts were composed, thus allowing a
complicated picture of informational writing in these two classrooms to emerge. This

multi-layered analysis led to the important finding that writing performance varies, and it

54

 

may be significantly related to complex factors in the instructional environment. The
context analysis, in conjunction with careful discourse analyses of the written texts,
revealed two overarching factors that were particularly related to the writing in these
classrooms: task structure and topic. The task structure factor has several dimensions,
including the level of scaffolding provided by the teacher, the instructional focus of the
teacher, and the purpose and audience associated with a particular task. The topic factor
refers to the particular topic (such as “Owls” or “Static Electricity”) of any given writing
task.

Other researchers have argued the importance of paying attention to scaffolding
with regard to children’s writing and genre development (Donovan & Smolkin, 2002;
Kamberelis & Bovino, 1999). In this study, the context analysis revealed that the levels
of scaffolding that students received varied in type and amount across the various writing
situations. This variation in the level of scaffolding was associated with both the macro-
level organizations that students employed in their written texts as well as the text
features that they used. This finding was similar to that reported by Kamberelis and
Bovino (1999) in their study of cultural artifacts as scaffolds for writing that “most
children produced more well-formed texts in the scaffolded condition than in the
nonscaffolded condition” (p. 162). At Rose Elementary, students were highly scaffolded
on all but one writing task, and they tended to use the most sophisticated macrostructural
organizations on all but that one task. At Laurel Elementary, the level of scaffolding
varied across the writing tasks, ranging from low to high. The written texts also varied in
their level of sophistication in a way that was related to the level of scaffolding. There

was a general trend that indicated that the more sophisticated written texts were produced

55

 

within contexts of high levels of scaffolding, and the less sophisticated written texts were
produced within contexts of low levels of scaffolding.

More work is needed on the effect of different types and levels of scaffolding on
children’s developing abilities to compose informational text. In this study, Mrs. Burke
(Rose Elementary) provided writing instruction during science class that focused on
issues of writers’ craft, such as use of leads, attention to audience, and figurative
language. This focus seemed to result in writing that was strong and full of voice, but that
also diverged at times from specific informational text genre conventions, such as when
her instruction in leads that grab the reader’s attention prompted opening statements that
are different from those that were identified in the TEXT analysis as typical of the genre.

The level and type of scaffolding provided were related to the purpose that the
teacher set for writing as well as the type of task that she assigned. Other research has
suggested that task structure can affect such things as the linguistic complexity of written
messages (Li, 2000) and motivation to complete a task (Nolen, 2001). The present study
suggests that the macro-level organization and the text features employed by students in
written texts vary across contexts depending upon the ways in which a teacher structures
a task, including the purposes she sets for it and the directions and expectations that she
gives for its completion. At Rose Elementary, the written tasks analyzed for this study
were all of one type: Report. The purposes for writing were similar across all six reports
that the students completed, and the expectations, though they increased in number as the
year progressed, were similar as well. Thus, type of task wasn’t a factor that proved
illuminating of this school’s data. At Laurel Elementary, however, there were five task

types, and each was associated with varying levels of sophistication in both

56

 

macrostructure and use of text features. Genre theory reminds us of the importance of
purposes for writing. The purposes that were associated with these task types related to
the writing that resulted. The textbook summaries, for example, had the main purpose of
displaying knowledge and understanding of science concepts to the teacher, an already
knowledgeable audience. The students thus focused on such tasks as defining terms and
listing facts related to a topic, and seemed to pay less attention to the craft of writing. The
task type of book, while still serving something of an assessment purpose was also
intended to teach others about a topic. Thus, the books tended to include more
sophisticated macro-level organizations as well as more illustrations to support a reader’s
understanding.

The other overarching factor, topic, represents an interesting new finding that
deserves further research attention. There is research evidence to suggest that a writer’s
interest in a topic is related to the resulting written text produced (e. g. Donovan &
Smolkin, 2002). However, as of yet there is no research that examines the ways in which
different topics enable and constrain writers in their composing process. The results of
this study suggest that some topics are more “free-wheeling” in that they don’t constrain
writers as much as other topics. Topics such as animals seem to allow greater freedom to
the writer to structure the text in various ways while still adhering to generic conventions.
For informational text, the generic conventions require an author to present information
in a way that is accessible and understandable to a less knowledgeable audience. That
constraint must first be met before a writer can take more liberties with language and
presentation. A topic like animals seems to allow a writer more freedom because the

subtopics to be presented can be arranged in many different orders. The subtopics aren’t

57

 

typically very hierarchical, and thus the writer has to spend less cognitive energy
attending to issues of the order in which to present information. That leaves more
cognitive resources with which the author can be creative while still adhering to the
generic conventions. Other topics, such as matter, seem to constrain writers more. The
subtopics are much more hierarchical in nature, and thus the overall organization matters
more to such a topic. In order to support a naive reader’s understanding of a topic like
matter, the writer must take care to present the information in a particular order, and thus
a young writer may have few cognitive resources left with which to add creative touches
such as figurative language. It is also possible that topics such as matter are simply harder
to write about creatively.
Questions and Challenges

Chapman (1995) argued that researchers need to adopt multiple methodological
tools in order to address “the interactions of substance, form, context, and intention rather
than focus on structure alone” (p. 190) in children’s writing. The results of this study
provide some illustration of the importance, and the complications, of such an attempt.
The context analysis guided the discourse analysis by pointing out some important factors
from the classroom situations that seemed associated with the students’ written texts.
This, in turn, helped to make clearer the patterns of results that emerged within the
discourse analysis. At the same time, the context analysis made the weaknesses of the
discourse analysis more apparent. For example, a reliance on the discourse analysis
alone, with its systematic category scheme, could result in an inaccurate judgment of the
sophistication of texts that are about certain topics. A careful examination of the context

factor suggests that certain topics allow a writer more freedom in composing a text that is

58

 

faithful to genre conventions. Thus, a text on the topic of animals may well be highly
sophisticated in its organization even if it doesn’t fall in the “highest” category (ordered
paragraphs). Such an occurrence is but one small reminder of the limitations of tools that
suggest that development can or should unfold along a particular linear path. Dyson
(2001) suggests a different perspective:

[R]esearchers interested in writing development have tended to equate “it”
[that which develops] with children’s ways of encoding messages. The forces
shaping literacy growth may be variously named...but, typically, the
developmental pathway is imagined as a linear road.... That is, more sophisticated
writing (or encoding) evolves from less sophisticated writing.

In this chapter, I envision “it” differently. I am not focusing on written
language as a kind of code but as a kind of symbolic tool that mediates human
experience and interaction... Thus studied, writing no longer seems to emerge
unilaterally from previous writing, nor is its development reducible to encoding
(cf. Vygotsky, 1978). (p. 126)

At the same time, I would argue that there is tremendous value in such category
schemes as the ones employed in this study. They are tools that allow us to look for
patterns across large numbers of written texts. These tools must be used cautiously, and
the results gained from them interpreted carefully and with an understanding of their
limitations. Future work should continue this attempt at employing multiple
methodological tools, questioning and improving those tools in the process.

Another challenge for researchers is designing tools that are informed by theory

but that also acknowledge and reflect the realities of classroom practice. If researchers are

59

 

to consider and value the influence of the instructional context on writing development,
then we will need to allow our methodological tools, and our theory, to be shaped by
what happens in classrooms at the same time that we attempt to use theory and research
to shape classroom practice. As this study suggests, teachers’ and students’ uses of genres
often differ from and/or challenge theoretical notions of genre. For genre theorists, one
challenge will be to decide how to acknowledge those “school-only” purposes for writing
that teachers set for students. Should our goal as researchers be to convince teachers to
move toward more authentic, real-world writing purposes and tasks? What can we learn
from the school tasks that students are required to do? How do the communicative
purposes that they set up overlap with, or contradict, the purposes for writing outside of
school? Prior work on curriculum genres (Christie, 1985; Pappas & Zecker, 2001) offers
one potential perspective on this issue. The notion that such routine activities as writer’s
workshop and author’s chair, and the texts that result from those activities, constitute
important genres that are worthy of study is a compelling one. But these curriculum
genres will, of necessity, contain purposes that are unique to school settings. Another
issue for genre theorists to consider further is related to the fact that school writing, even
when “authentic” (such as reports written to teach second graders about a topic) is also
usually accompanied by evaluation purposes. This may be more salient in the
intermediate grades and up because there is more emphasis on grading and more
sensitivity among students to purposes for writing set by their teachers.

This sensitivity to classroom practice and realities will open up new avenues of
research and new ideas for future work. The writing instruction that Mrs. Burke (Rose

Elementary) provided to her students in science class was a marriage of more typically

60

 

“language arts”, writers’ workshop views toward writing, which have tended involve
expressive writing in narrative genres, and scientific writing, with its attention to
accuracy, clarity, and conveying information. This marriage resulted in writing that, on
the one hand, differed from generic conventions in its use of more figurative language
and “attention-grabbing” leads. On the other hand, this writing was often quite
sophisticated by the standards used to judge in this study, with many of the texts written
at the level of paragraphs. Portraits of classrooms with teachers who strive to help their
students to become better writers can help us to understand the various ways in which
students are supported in their writing development.
Future Research

This study leaves questions that deserve exploration in future research. First, in
studying children’s writing, we need to take into account individual students’
understandings of purpose of particular pieces of writing and how those understandings
might affect the written texts that are produced. The results of this study indicate that the
purpose of a given writing task (especially as it related to the task structure) was
associated with the macrostructure and with the text features that students used in that
task. In addition, the interview data indicated that not all students saw the same purpose
for a particular task. Given the importance that genre theory places on the purpose for
writing, it seems necessary that research investigate the purposes that students see for
writing and how those purposes affect the writing process and the resulting text.

Second, more research needs to be done on students’ use and understanding of
visual elements in informational text. Visual elements such as graphs, charts, tables,

illustrations and diagrams serve important functions in informational text. They carry

61

 

meaning that is not necessarily conveyed in the text, and they offer different ways of
presenting information that can support and extend comprehension (Moline, 1995). Yet
the results of this study suggest that many students saw illustrations as “extra” material
that was to be included only if the teacher specifically required it, or only if there was
time after the written text was finished. Indeed, in some cases where it may have helped
the student writer or her audience, the teachers didn’t allow the use of illustrations or
other visual features at all. Interview data reveal that students at both schools routinely
completed their writing first, and then went back to add illustrations (if they were added
at all). There was very limited use of other visual or graphical elements in this corpus of
writing. This view of visual features as “extra” is problematic in that it doesn’t allow
students to learn a range of ways to present information beyond written text.

Third, the work I’ve done on this study has left me curious as to the impact that a
student’s science knowledge and understanding of science concepts has on her ability to
produce effective written texts. It has been my intuitive sense that students write more
effective texts on topics of which they have a better scientific understanding. However, I
do not have the data to investigate this hypothesis. Future work is needed that bridges the
science and literacy fields to consider the effect of science knowledge on informational

writing.

62

 

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66

Table 1: Written Data Collected

 

# Writing Sets # Written Texts Average Length Range of

 

 

Collected Analyzed of Texts Length of Texts
Rose 6 103 44 T-Units 4-128 T-Units
Elementary
Laurel 11 205 12 T-Units 1-49 T-Units
Elementary

 

67

Table 2
Rose Elementary, Macrostructure Results By Level of Scaffolm

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Low
S Att list comp basic seq HAL- HAL-E Single unord ord para Mixed
coup coup I para para

conste 0 50% 8% 0 0 l 7% O 0 0 25 %

(12) (6) (1) (2) (3)

high

S Att list comp basic seq HAL- HAL-E Singl unord 0rd Mixed
coup coup I e para para para

finger 0 5% 0 0 0 50% 0 41% 5% 0

(22) (1) (11) (9) (1)

matter 0 0 0 0 0 43% 0 O 57% O

(21) (9) (12)

owls 0 20% 15% 0 10% 40% O 15% 0 0

(20) (4) (3) (2) (8) (3)

wolf 0 0 0 0 25% 10% O 65% 0 0

(20) (5) (2) (13)

earth 0 0 O 0 0 O O 12.5% 87.5% 0

(8) ( 1) (7)

 

68

Table 3

Laurel Elementag, Macrostructure Results By Level of Scaffold—m g

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

S Att comp basic HAL-I HAL-E Single unord ord Mixed
coup list coup seq para para para

Inn
earth 0 18% 12% 0 23.5% 23.5% 12% 6% O 6%
(17) (3) (2) (4) (4) (2) (1) (1)
energy 0 33% 5.5% 0 5.5% 5.5 11% 11% 0 28%
(18) (6) (1) (1) (1) (2) (2) (5)
Moderate

S Att comp basic HAL-I HAL- Single unord ord Mixed

coup list coup seq E para para para
minerals O 16.5% 0 O 67% 16.5% 0 0 0 0
(18) (3) (12) (3)
Rocks & 5% 19% 9.5% 0 14% 9.5% 33% 5% 0 5%
Minerals (1) (4) (2) (3) (2) (7) (1) (1)
(21)
energy book 10.5 16% 0 16% 10.5% 0 47% 0 0 0
(19) % (3) (3) (2) (9)

(2)
Static Elec 0 20% 7% 0 13% 20% 27% 0 O 13%
(15) (3) (1) (2) (3) (4) (2)
Elec 5.5% 50% 11% 0 0 5.5% 22% 0 0 5.5%
(18) (1) (9) (2) (1) (4) (1)
Compare frogs 0 0 17% O 22% 17% 0 39% 0 5.5%
& crabs (3) (4) (3) (7) (1)
(18)
Hig

S Att comp basic HAL-I HAL- Single unord ord Mixed

coup list coup seq E para para para
Motion, force 0 0 10% 0 0 30% O 55% 0 5%
& energy (2) (6) (l 1) (l)
(20)
Magnetism & 0 0 9.5% 0 O 19% 0 67% 0 4.5%
Elec (2) (4) (14) ( 1)
(21)
Animals 0 O 0 0 20% 45% 0 30% 0 5%
(20) (4) (9) (6) (1)

 

69

Table 4

Laurel Elementag Macrostructure Results By T13 of Task (and level of scaffolg'gg)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Free Write (low)
S Att comp HAL-I HAL-E Single unord ord Mixed
coup list coup para para para

earth 0 18% 23.5% 23.5% 12% 6% O 6%
( l7) (3) (4) (4) (2) (1) ( 1)
Textbook Summary (low-moderate)

S Att comp basic HAL-I HAL-E Single unord ord Mixed

coup list Jara para para
minerals 0 16.5 67% 16.5% 0 O O 0
(18) % (3) (12) (3)
energy 0 33% 5.5% 5.5 11% 1 1% 0 28%
(18) (6) ( 1) (1 ) (2) (2) (5)
static el 0 20% 13% 20% 27% O O 13%
(15) (3) (2) (3) (4) (2)
elec 5.5% 50% 0 5.5% 22% 0 0 5.5%
(18) (l) (9) (1) (4) (l)
Compare/Contrast (moderate)

S Att comp basic HAL-I HAL-E Single unord ord Mixed

coup list para para para
compare 0 0 22% 17% 0 39% 0 5.5%
frogs & (4) (3) (7) (l)
crabs
(18)
Class Book (moderate)

S coup Att HAL-I HAL-E Single unord ord Mixed

list para para para
rocks & 5% 19% 14% 9.5% 33% 5% 0 5%
minerals (l) (4) (3) (2) (7) ( l) (l)
(21)
energy 10.5% 16% 0 10.5% 0 47% 0 0
book (2) (3) (2) (9)
(19)
Individual Book/Report (high)
S Att comp basic HAL-1 HAL-E Single unord ord Mixed
coup list para para para

motion, 0 0 0 30% 0 55% 0 5%
force& (6) (11) (1)
energy
(20)
magnetism 0 0 0 19% 0 67% 0 4.5%
& elec (4) (14) (1)
(21)
animals 0 0 20% 45% 0 30% 0 5%
(20) (4) (9) (6) (l)

 

7O

Table 5

Rose Elementary Text Features Analysis Results

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Average Score, (Range)

Att/ Char Def C/C Den Timel Gen Spec Real

Comp Ev Lang Verb Noun Vocab Illus
Finger 3.5 3.1 1.04 3.1 3.4 3.05 3.05 3.8 1
(22) (1-5) (1-4) (1-2) (1-4) (3-5) (1-4) (1-4) (3-4) (1)
Matter 5 4.9 4.6 2.6 4.95 4.95 4.95 5 3.33
(21) (5) (4-5) (4-5) (1-5) (4»5) (4-5) (4-5) (5) (1-5)
Owls 4.55 4.45 1.3 2.45 3.75 3.7 3.7 4.25 1
(20) (3-5) (3-5) (1-4) (1-3) (3-5) (3-4) (34) (3-5) (1)
Wolf 5 5 2.65 4.35 3.9 4.6 4.6 5 4.1
(20) (5) (5) (1 -5) (3-5) (3-5) (4-5) (4-5) (5) (1-5)
Earth 5 0 1.25 1.88 4.88 4.6 4.6 5 1
(3) (5) (0) (1'3) (14) (4-5) (4-5) (4-5) (5) (1)
Const 4.5 0 1.17 1.67 3.92 4.33 4.33 4.42 1
(12) (3-5) (0) (1-3) (1-3) (3-5) (3-5) (3-5) (3-5) (1)
Totals 4.59 4.36 2.00 2.68 4.13 4.21 4.21 4.58 1.91
(103)

Open Close Headings Index Classif Label/ Graph TofC Entire

State State capt device Text
Finger 2.7 2 l 0 4 .32 1.36 0 3.14
(22) (1-4) (1-5) (1) (0) (2-5) (0-3) (1-4) (0) (1-4)
Matter 3.3 l 1.67 l 4.3 2.9 1.4 1 4.76
(21) (1-5) (1) (1-5) (1) (3-5) (0-5) (1-4) (1) (4-5)
Owls 3.1 1.55 1.1 1 2.05 0 l 1 3.85
(20) (1-4) (1-4) (1-3) (1) (1-4) (1) (1) (3-4)
Wolf 3.2 3 1 1 4.36 2.85 1.75 1 4.6
(20) (3-4) (1-4) (1) (1) (3-5) (1-5) (1-5) (1) (4~5)
Earth 1.13 1.25 2.25 0 5 0 1 0 4.38
(8) (1-2) (1-3) (1-5) (0) (5) (0) (1) (0) (4-5)
Const 2.17 l O 0 1.92 0 l 0 3.75
(12) (1-4) (1) (0) (0) (1-3) (0) (l) (0) (3-4)
Totals 2.6 1.63 1.40 1.0 3.61 2.02 1.25 1.0 4.08
(103)

 

71

Table 6

Laurel Elementary Text Features Analysis Results

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Att/ Char Def C/C Den Timel Gen Spec Real
Comp Ev Lang Verb Noun Vocab Illus
minerals 3.56 3.1 1 3.22 1.1 l 3.78 4.0 4.0 4.1 l 1
(18) (1-5) (1-5) (2-5) (1-3) (3-5) (2-5) (2-5) (3-5) (1)
rocks & 3.29 3.29 1.86 1.48 3.76 3.52 3.52 4.10 3.48
minerals (1-5) (1-5) (1-4) (1-5) (1-5) (1-5) (1-5) (1-5) (1-5)
(21)
earth 3.35 2.0 1.3 1.8 3.45 2.85 2.85 3.9 1
(17) (1-5) (14) (1-3) (1-5) (1-5) (1-5) (1-5) (3-5) (1)
energy 3.0 2.89 3.06 2.22 3.78 3.78 3.78 4.1 1 1
(18) (1-5) (1-5) (1-5) (1-5) (1-5) (2-5) (2-5) (3-5) (1)
energy book 3.3 3.7 1.25 1.45 3.35 3.2 3.2 3.35 4.05
(19) (1-5) (1-5) (1-4) (1-4) (1-5) (2-5) (2-5) (2-5) (1-5)
motion force 2.85 4.6 4.25 1.3 4.3 4.25 4.25 4.5 4.3
& energy (1-4) (3-5) (1-5) (1-4) (3-5) (3-5) (3-5) (4-5) (1-5)
(20)
static elec 3.87 3.87 3.2 1.0 3.6 3.47 3.47 3.87 1.0
(15) (2-5) (2-5) (1-5) (1) (2-5) (2-5) (2-5) (2-5) ( 1)
elec 3.68 4.21 3.32 1.1 1 3.84 4.37 4.37 4.32 1.16
(18) (1-5) (1-5) (1-5) (1-3) (1-5) (1-5) (1-5) (2-5) (1-4)
magnet & 3.9 3.38 1.76 1.0 1.95 2.90 2.90 3.38 4.19
elec (2-5) (2-5) (1-5) (1) (1-4) (2-4) (2-4) (2-5) (1-5)
(21)
compare 4.0 4.83 1.1 1 4.94 3.67 3.83 3.83 3.94 0
frogs & (1-5) (4-5) (1-3) (4-5) (2-5) (3-4) (3-4) (3-5)
crabs
(18)
animals 4.8 4.65 2 1.5 3.55 3.85 3.85 4.5 3.35
(20) (4-5) (4-5) (1-4) (1-5) (2-5) (1-5) (1-5) (3-5) (1-5)
Totals 3.6 3.68 2.39 1.72 3.55 3.64 3.64 4.01 2.45
(205)

 

72

Table 6 (con’t)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Open Close Headin Index Classif Label/c Graph TofC Entire

State State gs apt device Text
minerals 3.72 1.33 1 0 3.17 0 1 0 3.72
(13) (3-4) (1-4) (1) (0) (3-4) (0) (1) (0) (2-5)
rocks & 3.10 1.71 3.57 * 3.33 2.52 1.90 ** 3.57
minerals (1-5) (1-4) (1-5) (1-5) (1-5) (1-5) (1-5)
(21)
earth 2.9 1.3 1.45 0 2.9 O l 0 2.6
(17) (15) (1-3) (1-5) (15) (1) (15)
energy 2.78 1.17 l 0 2.78 .22 1.33 0 3.6
(18) (1-5) (1-3) (1) (1-5) (0-4) (1-5) (3-5)
energy 2.3 2.05 2.8 * 1.65 1.95 1.6 ** 3.4
book (1-5) (1-5) (1-5) (1-5) (1-5) (1-5) (2-5)
(19)
motion, 1.4 1.2 4.9 1.0 2.1 2.7 1.7 4.4 4.5
force & (1-5) (1-3) (3-5) (1) (1-4) (0-5) (1-4) (1-5) (4-5)
energy
(20)
static elec 2.13 1.47 1.0 0 1.4 0 1.13 0 3.67
(15) (1-3) (1-4) (1) (1-3) (1-3) (2-5)
elec 1.53 1.0 0 0 1.0 .32 1.21 0 4.26
(18) (1-4) (1) (1) (0-5) (1-5) (1-5)
magnet & 1.0 1.0 4.86 1.0 3.14 2.19 1.24 4.14 3.05
elec (1) (1) (4-5) (1) (1-4) (0-5) (1-4) (3-5) (1-5)
(21)
compare 3.1 1 1.22 0 0 2.89 0 0 0 3.94
frogs & (1-5) (1-4) (2-5) (3—4)
crabs
(18)
animals 2.1 1.1 2.9 1 3.85 1.7 1.2 1.7 3.9
(20) (1-4) (1-3) (1-5) (1) (1-5) (0-5) (1-3) (1-5) (2-5)
Totals 2.37 1.32 2.61 1.0 2.56 1.66 1.33 3.41 3.66
(205)

 

*The book did not include an index.
MOne Table of Contents was used for the whole book.

73

Table 7

Rose Elementary, Macmstructure Results Organized By Topic

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Animals
S Att list comp basic seq HAL-I HAL-E Single unord ord Mixed
coup coup para para para
owls 0 20% 15% 0 10% 40% 0 15% O 0
(20) (4) (3) (2) (8) (3)
wolf 0 O 0 0 25% 10% 0 65% 0 0
(20) (5) (2) (l3)
Fingerprints
S Att list comp basic seq HAL-I HAL-E Single unord ord Mixed
coup coup para para para
finger 0 5% 0 0 0 50% 0 41% 5% 0
(22) (1) (11) (9) (1)
Earth Science
8 Att list comp basic seq HAL-1 HAL-E Single unord ord Mixed
coup coup para para para
matter 0 0 0 O 0 43% 0 0 57% 0
(21) (9) (12)
earth 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 12.5% 87 .5% 0
(8) (1) (7)
Constellations
S coup Att list comp basic seq HAL-I HAL- Single unord ord Mixed
coup E para para para
conste 0 50% 8% 0 0 17% 0 0 0 25%
(12) (6) (1) (2) (3)

 

74

Title: Owls

Hoo...hoo-oo hoo-oo. Do you know what that is? (1) It’s the sound of the great
horned owl. (2) They live in North America, are very execptional looking, (3) and they
are large. (4) The unique creature has a good habitat, strang ways of raising young and
weird habits. (5) There are also some facts. (6)

The facts about the owl are amazing! (7) They are very powerful. (8) The unique
owl can get very aggressive (9) and they can take prey two to three times heavier than
them. (10) The great horned owl has amazing habits, too. (11) They sometimes go into
chicken coops. (12) They swoop down to get prey (13) and for small prey, the owl walks
on the ground. (14)

The neat bird has three to six eggs. (15) The eggs hatch after thrity-three to tlrrity-
five days. (16) The babies don’t leave until they are nine to ten weeks old. (17) The
parents that have the babies find nests in forests. (18) The owls like to live by streams in
parks. (19) The forests they live in are found in North America, Central South America,
and by the northern tree line. (20)

Other than their neat ways of living, they look neat, too. (21) They are reddish or
grey or black and white. (22) the strang owls have large yellow eyes and ear tufts like
“horns.” (23) The neat look goes on a big bird. (24) The birds are as large [as] eagles.
(25) They can weigh 32 to 63 V2 oz. (26) They are 18 to 25 in., and have a wingspand of
36-60 in. (27) The great horned owls have long calls. (28) The female has a longer call.
(29) Her call is, “Hoo.. hoo-hoo-hoo, hoo-oo hoo-oo.” (30) The males call is “Hoo...hoo-
oo hoo-oo.” (31)

We found alot of interesting bones when we dissected an owl pellet. (32) Our owl
ate rodents, shews, and birds. (33) We found a rodent skull and four rodent hip bones.
(34) We found eighteen shew vertebrae. (35) We didn’t find very many bird bones, (36)
but we found a feather. (37)

Figure l: Ella’s Owl Report and Tree Diagram

75

Owls (1, 2)

W

 

3 4 5 6 28 32
20 21 24 25 26 27 11 15 17 18 19 7 29 31 33
/\ /l\ l l A\ l /l\
22 23 121314 16 20 8 9 10 3o 34 35 36
|
37
Figure l (Con’t)

76

Title: Matter

Did you know that only a few things are not matter? (1) The only things that are
not matter are electricity and other things too. (2) Solids, liquids and gases are made of
atoms. (3) Atoms make up molecules, elements, solutions, mixtures and compounds. (4)

Solids, liquids and gases are all matter. (5) They take up space and have mass or
weight. (6) Some can be living, like you, (7) others are not, like your t.v. (8) Everything
is made of atoms. (9)

Atoms are the smalles particles. (10) Every atom is made of protons, neutrons and
electrons. (11) Neutrons have a neutral (0) charge and are in the nucleus. (12) Protons
have a positive (+) charge and are in the nuclues. (13) Electrons have a negitive (-)
charge and are in the energy layers around the nucleus. (14) There are different numbers
of protons in each atom. (15)

There is 109 elements each kind of only one different kind of atom. (16) They are
the simplest chemicals. (17) Some examples are gold, silver, and copper. (18) They can
all be found on the Periodic Table of Elements. (19)

There are also mixtures. (20) Mixtures are made of different atoms in different
amounts. (21) They are always made of two or more elements. (22) They don’t react
together (23) so they can be seperated. (24) The things that were put in don’t lose their
own properties. (25)

A solution is a special kind of mixture. (26) An exaple of a solution is a liquid
with something dissolved in it. (27)

A suspension is another special mixture. (28) The particles don’t dissolve in it.
(29) They are temperarily supended.(30)

Do you know what a compound is? (31) It’s a chemical combination of two or
more atoms. (32) Unlike mixtures, compounds have a certain number of each atom. (33)
Each atom dose lose it’s charactoristics. (34) The atoms can’t be seporated. (35) The two
or more atoms make something new. (36) An example is H20, also known as water. (37)
Different atoms form in different numbers to make all the matter the matter in the world.
(38)

Did you know that your a solid? (39) So is your house, the doors in it, and you
furniture. (40) When you look at those things you can tell what they have in common.
(41) They all have weight and take up space. (42) They are visible, (43) but they don’t
flow, (44) nor do they let other things pass through easily. (45) They have a definite size,
shape, and volume. (46) They can be living or non-living. (47) You know that because
you’re a living solid. (48) The doors in your house are non-living. (49) Solids are made of
atoms. (50) The atoms make up molecules. (51) The molecules are heild together by
strong bonds. (52) These molecules move back and forth but don’t move away from each
other. (53) Some solids melt into liquids at the right time. (54)

Liquids are different than solids. (55) Liquids do flow. (56) They have no definate
shape. (57) The molecules are held by weak bonds and can move more freely. (58)
Liquids take the shape of the container their in. (59) It gose to the bottom of the
container. (60) Other things like solids, can pass through liquids easily. (61) The
molecules are farther apart than in solids. (62) There are some things that are the same.
(63) Liquids and solids both have a definite size and volume. (64) Liquids are visible
most of the time. (65) They have weight and take up space. (66) When heated, a liquid
turns to a gas, (67) and when cooled it turns to a solid. (68)

77

Gases are different from solids and liquids. (69) Gases have no defmate size,
shape or volume. (70) You usually can’t see it. (71) Gases can change shape easily. (72)
It allows other things to pass through it (73) and it spreads out to fill something. (74) The
molecules move freely and far away from each other. (75) They have no bonds holding
them together. (76) When it’s cooled, gas changes to a liquid. (77) When it’s heated, it
stays a gas. (78) There are some things the same about liquids and gases. (79) Gases flow
and take the shape of the container the gas is in. (80) Gases also have weight and take up
space. (81)

Figure 2: Ella’s Matter Report and Tree Diagram

78

Matter

7T
84|0 56575859616263 636768 707172737475777879
41 60 646566 76 80 81

42434445464750“
484951

52 53

Figure 2 (Con’t)

79

18

16

AMA

19 212223252|62[8\ 3233/34\

24 27291!) 35 T

MANUSCRIPT 2

NINE ELEMENTS OF NONFICTION WRITERS’ CRAFT

Once these great creatures were plentiful, more plentiful than the plants on the largest
plantation on earth. Now there 's only a few. They are great hunters. Mankind needs these
carnivores. They would be the first modern day mammal to be extinct if we didn ’t care.
Wolves are truly great mammals.

«Robert, Fourth Grader

Children develop in a variety of ways as writers. From their earliest experiences

with literacy, they are learning that print carries meaning, and that they can represent
their own meaning on paper (and on the computer screen). As they grow, they learn to
spell conventionally, they learn the mechanics of writing, and they become more
sophisticated in their organization and their use of text features. Literacy researchers have
considered the development of such issues in writing as spelling, mechanics, self-
regulation, transcription skills, organization, genre knowledge, and text features (e. g.
(Bissex, 1980; Donovan, 2001; Graham & Harris, 2000; Kamberelis, 1999; Newkirk,
1987; Purcell-Gates, Duke, Hall, & Tower, 2003; Read, 1971). The development of
writer’s craft, particularly within nonfiction writing, is a new area of exploration. In this
article, I will consider issues of writer’s craft as they relate to nonfiction writing in
science. Robert represents an interesting case of a young writer developing his craft in
science writing. I will focus on his writing in particular as I discuss the issues of writer’s
craft that emerged in his science classroom. This data is part of a corpus collected during
a larger study of children’s informational writing development (Tower, in preparation).

What is ‘Craft’?

80

Although little research has taken up development of writer’s craft, a number of
people writing for practitioners have discussed craft. Portulapi (1999) states, “Craft is like
a map that helps you as you move through writing and reading. It helps you understand
the lay of the land and steer with more authority” (p. 7). Murray (1996) argues that “The
craft of writing is, first of all, a collection of all those attitudes and techniques that
summon and nourish spontaneity. Craft frees writing so that we may write what we do
not intend, and then craft always shapes it so others will understand what we have to say”
(p. vii). Definitions of craft will naturally vary from writer to writer, for writing is an
individual, personal act. However, writing is also a social act, and writers work within
particular genres, contexts, and discourse communities. Murray’s quote speaks to the
tension between choice and constraint that writers, especially young writers, face in
attempting to convey a message in writing. Devitt (1997) argues that we should see both
constraint and choice as necessary components of genre. Writers need the freedom, the
space, to be spontaneous in their writing, to invent; craft allows them this space. But they
also need the discipline, the conventions and structure that will allow them to make their
message comprehensible to an audience. Craft provides this structure as well. Supportive
teachers can aid students in developing their craft by teaching, modeling, and requiring
the use of particular techniques or ways with language.

What, then are the components of craft? What elements make it up? Books about
writing, books that aim to provide guidance to writers (and to teachers of writers) in
improving their craft, include advice on qualities of good writing, specific techniques,
types of language use, habits of mind and of routine, grammatical and mechanical rules,

and so on (see for example (Atwell, 1987; Fletcher, 1993; Murray, 1996). Atwell (1987)

81

states, “I categorize as craft mini-lesson presentations that touch on matters of technique,
style, and genre” (p. 130). In the section of his book called “The Craft”, Fletcher (1993)
includes such elements as voice, beginnings (leads), endings, and unforgettable language.
As we shall see, Robert and his classmates were learning to use the varied components
that constitute a writer’s craft toolkit.

Different genres involve different ways of using language, different purposes, and
often, different audiences. Writers of nonfiction, like all writers, face challenges that are
specific to their genres. Writers of nonfiction genres such as informational text work with
the purpose of informing a less knowledgeable audience on some topic of interest. They
are constrained by the purpose of the genre, which dictates that they have a responsibility
to convey information in a way that will be comprehensible to the reader. In order to
meet this purpose, they will rely on, among other things, craft devices that are particular
to the genre. For example, writers of nonfiction need to have a certain kind of audience
awareness that allows them to “check in” with their readers, or to provide enough
signposts to guide readers through the content. They often will compare a new and
unfamiliar concept or idea to something that they assume is familiar to their audience.
They also have unique opportunities and responsibilities in their use of visuals that can
support and extend their written texts. As we shall see, the students in this fourth grade
class, including Robert, experimented with various ways of conveying information and
helping to ensure comprehension for their audience as they worked to improve their craft
as writers of nonfiction text.

Influences on Writer’s Craft

82

Genre theorists argue that genres represent both stable, structural forms and
flexible, social functions (Freedman & Medway, 1994; Miller, 1994). The recurring
patterns within genres grow out of the communicative needs of particular discourse
communities. These patterns serve a standardizing function, helping speakers and writers
to understand each other and to meet expectations for communication within a
community. The patterns are also subject to the changing and evolving needs of that
discourse community; thus, generic patterns are both stable and flexible; they represent
both form and function.

As noted earlier, to writers, genres represent both choice and constraint (Devitt,
1997). As Devitt (1997) argues,

Instead of seeing a dichotomy between constraint and choice, my argument in this

chapter is that we must see both constraint and choice as necessary components of

genre—both/and instead of either/or. This complementary relationship between
constraint and choice within genre can be clarified by comparing it to
standardization and variation within language... I will argue that genres, like
language standards, interlink standards/constraints and variation/choice, an

interlink essential to the construction of meaning. (p. 45)

Writers ultimately attempt to make meaning with language, and usually to convey that
meaning to some audience. The process of making meaning within a genre requires both
choice and constraint; both the possibility to invent, and appropriate, language for one’s
own purposes and the standards and conventions that shape language in ways that make it
comprehensible to both writer and reader. As we shall see, there was evidence that Robert

was working to negotiate this boundary between constraint and choice.

83

In conducting this study, I adOpted a sociocognitive perspective (Chapman, 1995;
Flower, 1994). Working within this perspective, I assumed that it does not make sense to
consider separately either the written texts produced by individual students, or the social
context in which they produced those texts. Only by examining the interaction of both the
individual/cognitive and the social/contextual can we hope to gain a rich understanding of
the ways in which students learn to become writers of nonfiction text. This fits well with
genre theory, as it allows a consideration of both the formal and functional aspects of
genre at work in the instructional context that influenced the students’ writing

Writing is a social act that always takes place within a particular context. Young
writers are never alone as they work to refine their craft. They are embedded within,
supported by, and sometimes challenged by particular historical, cultural, institutional
and instructional contexts. In the case of Robert and his classmates, the science writing
they produced occurred within the instructional context of their fourth grade classroom.
This context will be described in more detail below. The writing context, including the
instruction provided by the teacher and the assignment guidelines she required, helped to
shape the work that they did as a science writers.

Methods

The data analyzed here are a part of the corpus collected for a study on fourth
graders’ informational writing development in science. Forty-four students and their
teachers in two classrooms participated in the larger study. I visited each classroom once
a week in order to observe science instruction, take field notes on that instruction, and
collect all writing that students produced within science that was at least partly

informational. For the purposes of this study, informational text was defined as text

84

intended to convey information about the natural and social world (Duke, 2000). I also
conducted informal interviews with both teachers, and with 13 students from each
classroom (including Robert).

The present analysis was conducted only on data from one of the two classrooms.
Robert’s classroom was located in Rose Elementary School, a rural school which served
473 students in grades 2-5. From the 23 participating students in Robert’s class, I
collected six sets of writing, for a total of 103 written texts. I also collected rough drafts
of four of the six sets of writing (the other two sets were short; in one, the students didn’t
write rough drafts and in the other the teacher didn’t save them for me). I conducted the
analysis on data from this school because it was the one in which the teacher paid explicit
attention to the craft of writing during her science instruction time. She provided
instruction in writing that included a focus on some elements of writer’s craft (especially
leads, figurative language, and attention to audience). Because of this, I hypothesized that
an analysis of her students’ writing would result in a list of elements of nonfiction
writer’s craft.

Each final draft written text was transcribed. Transcriptions (and the quotes from
them presented in this report) remain faithful to the spelling and punctuation used by the
student writer. Field notes were typed and then read and re-read as I asked questions and
noted patterns. The unit of analysis that I employed was the writing assignment. This unit
included the set of written texts produced on an assigned topic as well as the instruction
and instructional artifacts (e. g. pre-writing tools such as webs, written guidelines

provided by the teacher) that surrounded those texts. This unit allowed for a consideration

85

of each set of written texts within the instructional context in which it was produced, thus
taking into account both the structural and social dimensions of genre.

The interviews were informal. The interview data was collected on audio tapes, in
one-to-one situations with each student. Each interview was transcribed as faithfully as
possible. Interview data was intended to support and extend the other analyses, so the
transcripts were read and reread and coded for places in which the teacher and students
discussed issues relevant to the other analyses. Excerpts of transcripts are reported in the
results sections where relevant.

In analyzing the data, I employed the constant-comparative method (Lincoln &
Guba, 1985). The first step was to read and reread the field notes in order to make a
preliminary list of craft elements to code. This preliminary list came from elements of
craft that the teacher included in her instruction. Analysis proceeded by taking the
elements of craft that the teacher focused on in her writing instruction during science
class and looking for examples of use of those elements in students’ writing. Working
through each of the six sets of writing, I read all of the texts and noted each example of
the craft elements from the preliminary list. I also noted other craft devices and elements
that students used, and then I did additional read-throughs of the written texts in order to
record uses of those additional factors by each student. This process resulted in a list of
nine elements of craft that these students employed in their nonfiction writing (see Table
8). The nine categories of craft elements were not mutually exclusive; that is, a single
example from a student text could (and often did) fit more than one category. Each

element of craft was further explored in order to understand the various ways in which

86

students employed it, to look at patterns of its use within and across writing sets, and to
provide examples of its use.

Once the craft element categories were established, I created a database in which I
entered a page for each set of writing in order to record whether or not each student used
the nine craft elements in that piece of writing. The results of this analysis are presented
in Table 9.

In discussing the nine elements of writer’s craft, I have chosen to focus in
particular on one student, Robert. Though I occasionally broaden my focus to include
patterns noted across all the students, my examples will primarily involve Robert’s
writing. (See appendix D for Robert’s written texts.) A focus on one student will allow
me to provide continuity across the examples that I present, and to give a rather complete
description of one student writer’s use of craft. It will also allow me to reference
comments that Robert made in his interview where relevant. I chose to focus on Robert
because be employed each of the craft elements identified in the analysis, and because his
writing and his interview talk reveal a student who tried out each of the nine elements of
craft.

The Writing Context

Robert and his classmates worked in a classroom with a teacher who provided lots
of writing instruction related to the science writing that she assigned. His teacher, Mrs.
Burke, set high expectations for her students and provided a high level of scaffolding to
support them as they worked to meet her expectations (see Manuscript 1 for a more
detailed description of Mrs. Burke’s instruction and scaffolding). Most relevant to craft,

she created an environment in which young writers could experiment with language and

87

search for their own voices as writers of science text; thus, students had opportunities for
choice in their writing.

To illustrate how she provided structured choices for her students, I will describe
one of the science class periods I observed during the time the students were working on
their wolf reports. In this lesson, Mrs. Burke focused on helping her students to
brainstorm different possible leads and topic sentences. She started by reporting that
some types of topic sentences (e. g. “Did you know...”) were becoming overused. She
asked her students to give examples of interesting topic sentences for the section on
physical characteristics of wolves. One student volunteered, “Oh no, I got bit by a two
inch long tooth by a wolf.” Mrs. Burke replied, “Good starter, but now you need to lead
into the rest...Remember, your topic needs to lead into that paragraph. If you only
mention color, how will you lead into [other physical characteristics]?” She went on to
reinforce the difference between topic sentences and detail sentences. Next, she urged her
students not to start every sentence with the word wolves—“Wolves are”, “Wolves
have”. She suggested instead that they use such constructions as “These special
creatures” or “These unique mammals”. She asked students to suggest other describing
words, and she reminded them that they could refer to the thesaurus for help in choosing
words. This type of instruction emphasized the range of choices that students had in
composing leads and paragraph topic sentences. It also reinforced boundaries and
conventions, such as what counts as an acceptable topic sentence.

In addition to the choices that Mrs. Burke provided, Robert was also expected to
adhere to specific, structured guidelines for each writing task. Sometimes those

guidelines were as specific as “your report will have six paragraphs”, “be sure to include

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five adjectives” or “add a figure of speech to this paragraph”. Thus, students also were
provided with constraints on their writing choices. While serving to constrain him, these
requirements also freed him of the burden of making too many choices. The requirements
created boundaries that provided a circumscribed space in which her young students
could play with language. This tension between choice and constraint can help young
writers to negotiate various ways to be effective with their writing. For young writers, the
development of craft is a special challenge, given the many possibilities presented in our
language. The tension that is always present between choice and constraint can be highly
productive, given a supportive writing context that includes instruction that both focuses
on structure and expects creativity.

In the following sections, I will discuss the elements of writer’s craft that students
used in their science writing. Specific examples will come primarily from four of
Robert’s written texts (composed during the period of September to January) and from
the interview I conducted with him in late February. Data from my field notes of
observations of the science class will also be presented as they support an understanding
of Robert’s writing and of the use of writer’s craft in this classroom. The four written
texts were on the topics of fingerprints, matter, owls, and wolves (see Appendix D).

Early in the year, Robert’s class learned about fingerprints: the different types and
how police use them to solve crimes. His class participated in the solution of a pretend
crime that required them to match fingerprints taken from a safe to fingerprints of
suspects. They then wrote a report that the teacher expected would serve two purposes: to
inform a reader about fingerprints, and to recount their experience of solving a crime

using fingerprints.

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The next major writing assignment that Robert and his class completed in science
was a report about matter. Mrs. Burke set high standards for the content and organization
of this piece. Her guidelines for the matter report stated: “In this report you will have six
main sections. You may split your major sections into paragraphs as needed and where
appropriate.” The guidelines went on to outline the sections and the required content for
each. Her guidelines also indicated that students would be evaluated on the following
criteria (in her words): paragraphs indented, spelling, punctuation, capitals, makes sense,
organized well by paragraph, sentences within each paragraph in good order, enough
descriptive details, titled, word choice varied, explanations clear, and sentences well
developed and descriptive.

Next, Robert and his classmates wrote owl reports. By this point, Mrs. Burke was
emphasizing the use of figurative language and other issues of writer’s craft. She
discussed and modeled the use of such literary devices as sirniles, personification, and
onomatopoeia. In her instruction, she discussed leads, and on occasion she would invite
her students to brainstorm different examples of possible leads. Her guidelines for the
owl assignment indicated that she expected five or six paragraphs: an introductory
paragraph, three to four descriptive paragraphs, and a concluding paragraph “that wraps
up your paper and gives a closing”. Her “guidelines for each paragrap ” listed 10
requirements (stated here as they appeared on the guidelines sheet): topic sentence, 3-5
detail (supporting) sentences, topic/supporting sentences related, sentences well
developed/descriptive, word choice varied, explanations clear/make sense, organized

well, 2 adjectives, 2 adverbs, and 1 figure of speech.

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The fourth science writing assignment was a wolf report. Once again, Mrs. Burke
provided her students with a detailed (three-page) document that outlined her guidelines
for the assignment. This time, her guidelines included three major sections: “Rules for
Good Writing”, “General Guidelines”, and “Checklist for a Good Report”. The “Rules
for Good Writing” section contained these organizational and craft requirements: topic
paragraph; interesting opening; 3-5 supporting (detail) sentences per paragraph;
descriptive, colorful language; 3 adjectives, 3 adverbs, and a figure of speech per
paragraph; indent all paragraphs; use your own words! 1!; and use the writing process. The
“General Guidelines” described the required cover page, bibliography, and illustrations.
The “Checklist” listed the content expected in each of the 11 required paragraphs.

Mrs. Burke provided writing instruction for each of these four projects that often
included mini-lessons focused on such elements as leads, use of questions, and attention
to audience. She brainstormed with the class in order to come up with examples of these
elements. Once students were involved in composing, she employed peer editing and
ongoing teacher-student conferences. Students were usually expected to take notes and
work from them while composing. Students were also expected to write multiple drafts,
and to take into account feedback in revising their drafts. For each report, students
completed a final draft. According to the interview data, the audiences for which the
students wrote most often included the teacher, classmates, family members, and a
hypothetical “reader”. Analysis of the interview data suggests that some students had a
rather complex idea of “the reader”, and they used this idea to help them to consider
audience issues as they wrote (see Tower, under review).

Results

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The analysis of the field notes, instructional artifacts, and the 103 written texts
resulted in a list of nine elements of craft that were employed by these young nonfiction
writers. See table 8 for a list of the craft elements. Each element will be discussed
separately, but it is important to bear in mind that the elements are interrelated and often
overlapping. For example, the student writers often expressed their awareness of
audience through the use of questions, they used humorous visuals to illustrate their
similes, and they expressed voice through their use of humor (in words and visuals) and
the technique of directly addressing the reader.

Attention to Audience

It is critical for young writers to develop the ability to consider an audience as
they write. Considering the needs of a particular audience will help a writer to shape his
or her text in ways that will result in effective communication of a message. The results
of this analysis suggest that students demonstrated an awareness of audience through the
use of most of the craft elements to follow, especially in their use of voice, humor, leads,
and questions. Thus, Robert’s awareness of his audience as revealed in his writing and his
interview talk will be a strand that is woven throughout the rest of the paper.

Though I will focus primarily on examples from Robert’s work, here I will share
an example of some text and a related interview transcript from John, one of Robert’s
classmates. In his wolf text, John chose to set apart some of his rhetorical and craft
elements (a definition, a connection of the new to the known, a simile) by putting them in
parentheses. The four sentences from his wolf report that include parentheses are:

“Like the dog and the bear, wolves are warm-blooded (which means their blood

tempature never changes)”

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“Their snouts can hold up too one billion smelling cells (They can smell a cake

over a mile away)”

“Also they have pads on their feet to protect them from sharp objects (They’re as

protected as ‘superman’)”

“Wolves (yes those fascinating creatures) are very complicated, but I managed to

get the information.”
Because this was an unusual rhetorical move in this classroom, I decided to ask John
about it in our interview. John was explicit in his explanation that these uses of
parentheses were intended to gain and hold his audience’s attention by being
conversational and/or adding interesting facts.

Cathy: “They can smell cake over a mile away”. You used parentheses, and I was

just curious about why, you used parentheses a couple places, you were one of the

only people who did that, and I just wanted to ask you about it.

John: Well, I did that because it wouldn’t really be something really needed, but I

just added it on. So I put that in parentheses.

Cathy: Okay, so the information that’s in the parentheses, you’re saying is

something that’s not really needed?

John: Yeah, it’s just extra.

Cathy: It’s extra. Okay, so, why would you put it in if it’s extra?

John: Mm, I thought that would be a pretty interesting fact to put in.

Cathy: Oh, okay.

John: And it would keep the reader, get the reader’s attention.

Cathy: Oh, okay. Okay. But it’s in parentheses because it’s not exactly needed.

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John: Yeah.

Cathy: I see. And so, let me see, there was another page where I think you had
parentheses....Oh, like on the last page, “Wolves” and then in parentheses you
said “Yes those fascinating creatures”. Was that for the same reason you used the
parentheses?

John: Yes.

Cathy: Okay.

John: And because, it’s like .a conversation too. And, you know. I don’t know. I

don’t really know how to put it, but, it’s hard to explain.

Cathy: Okay, and then there’s one other parentheses here. You said “They’re as
protected as Superman.” That looks like it’s even different than the other two.
John: Like, their feet, the pads, it keeps ‘em from cutting up their feet. It, so I put
that because it’s [in an exaggerated voice] SU per MAAAN!
From John’s interview transcript, we get a sense of a young writer who thought carefully
about various ways to gain and keep his readers’ attention. He is still struggling to
articulate why made particular word and sentence choices (“And, you know. I don’t
know. I don’t really know how to put it, but, it’s hard to explain”). Yet he had clearly
reasoned through a way to present what he considered to be “extra”, yet still interesting,
information. And he believed that the inclusion of this “extra” information would serve to
hold a reader’s attention and by presenting interesting information and adding a

conversational tone to his writing. The writers in this classroom showed attention to their

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audience in many ways, and through many of the other elements of nonfiction writer’s
craft.
Voice

Writers who discuss elements of author’s craft often include voice as an important
consideration. Romano (2003) tells us that “Voice is the writer’s presence on the page”
(p. 50) Fletcher (1993) stated:

When I talk about voice, I mean written words that carry with them the sense that

someone has actually written them. Not a committee, not a computer: a single

human being. Writing with voice has the same quirky cadence that makes human

speech so impossible to resist listening to. (p. 68)

“Quirky” is a good word to describe Robert’s voice in his writing. Over the course of the

year, as he played with language, Robert wove more and more examples of his own voice
into his written pieces. These are unexpected gifts to the reader that come in many forms,
including a confiding tone, alliteration, or a funny picture.

As they did with audience awareness, students demonstrated their unique voices
through their use of other craft elements such as leads, questions, and visuals. For
example, in his matter report, Robert included this question: “What’s an atom made of
you say?” In his owl report, be directly addressed his readers: “If you want proof, here it
is.” Robert’s voice could sometimes even be detected through his use of punctuation, as
in the times he chose to end a sentence with an exclamation point (“Five things that make
a wolf a mammal are, for exaple something every mammal has hair!”) The exclamation
point suggests that Robert found this fact interesting or noteworthy, and that perhaps he

was conveying this excitement to his readers. Along with audience awareness, Robert’s

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use of voice will be another strand that gets woven throughout the rest of the paper in
discussions of the other craft elements.

Robert’s voice came through especially clearly in his wolf report. Robert’s voice
comes through from the very first paragraph:

Wolves are great creatures. I mean, they keep the amount of game at a
good rate, they have awesome abilities to help them do their jobs in nature.
Though there aren’t many they are well spread out around the world. They are as
cool as rock stars. These things are number one types of dogs.

His use of “I mean” indicates a possible attempt to justify the opening sentence, which
contains an opinion statement about wolves. The phrase “I mean” calls Robert’s voice to
a reader’s mind, and immediately serves to remind the reader of the presence of the writer
on the page. Additionally, his last sentence of the opening paragraph has a distinctive
sound that I came to associate with Robert’s voice: “These things are number one types
of dogs.”

In certain ways, Robert signaled that he was particularly interested in the topic of
wolves. This may have resulted in a closeness that made the subject feel more personal to
Robert, and thus more compelling to write about. Fletcher (1993) quotes the poet
Suzanne Gardinier as saying that

voice in writing has much to do with an intimacy between writer and subject: a

close distance between the author and what is being written about. In voiceless

writing, the author stands far back from the subject. Such distance can impart a

cold, detached feel to the writing. When writing has real voice, you can sense the

author pulling in close, cozying up to the subject... (p. 72)

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In his interview, Robert indicated just such closeness to the subject of his wolf report
when he reported that the information he had learned helped him to train his dog.

Robert: Ah, I liked them both [the wolf report and another piece he wrote] but I

kinda like this one more [the wolf report] because it helped me train my dog.

Cathy: The wolf report helped you train your dog?

Robert: Yeah...there was a part in here where we had to write on sounds and

movements dogs make when speaking to each other and I used those.

Thus, there is evidence both from his writing and from his talk about the writing that he
felt close to the subject of wolves. This closeness is one possible explanation for the
feeling of voice that is evident in Robert’s writing.

An examination of Robert’s revisions provides another possible insight into his
attempts to develop his voice as a writer of nonfiction text. The rough drafts that I
collected contained evidence of the revisions that he made (and the revisions that his
teacher suggested he make). In a draft of his matter report, Robert had written the
following sentences, which he subsequently crossed out:

Last four paragraphs I’ve been talking about solids, liquids, and gases. This

paragraph I will say a little diffrent. This time it’s more like all types of matter.

Solids, liquids, and gases haven’t much to do with this paragraph. First and same

as always I will say matter takes up space and has weight. But I didn’t say this

matter can be living or nonliving.
These deleted sentences have a more informal tone than he ultimately used in his final
draft. They are also somewhat metacognitive; they sound like he has written down the

droughts from his head that were helping him to organize his report. Perhaps he chose to

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delete those sentences as a result of a discussion with his teacher or a classmate, or
perhaps he decided they didn’t sound authoritative enough. It could be that Robert’s
revision indicated his growing understanding of the tone and language usually associated
with informational genres. It could also be an indication of his consideration of voice and
his decisions regarding how informal to be, and how much of himself to include in his
report. Whatever the reason, these revisions suggest that Robert was working hard to
craft a report that was effective and carefully written.

In Robert’s work, there is evidence that he did some negotiating with Mrs. Burke
over issues of choice and constraint. This took place was in the revision process, when
Mrs. Burke provided feedback on students’ rough drafts. An examination of Robert’s
rough draft of his owl report reveals a glimpse into the ways that he negotiated with his
teacher and struggled with issues of choice and constraint. In his owl report, recall that
Robert used the following narrative lead:

Oh no, I’m late for the owl show. I can’t wait to learn about owls,
especially the barn owl. ‘Doot doot doot doot doot doot dooooooo.’ Just in time!
They’re presenting the barn owl! Barn owls have a unique size, call, and
especially cool habitats for owls. It raises young like other owls, too.

A look at his rough draft of this piece again indicates that he was working with a tension
between choice and constraint when drafting this opening paragraph. In the rough draft,
his opening stated “Oh, no, I’m late for the owl show. Bye mom see you later. I can’t
wait to learn about owls....” Mrs. Burke crossed out the second sentence (“Bye mom see
you later”). It seems that the narrative opening was acceptable to her, but the inclusion of

dialogue was not. Robert seems to be learning where the boundaries are for his writing--

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boundaries set both by his teacher and by the genre in which he is working. He seemed to
be learning how to maintain his own voice while still adhering to the constraints imposed
by the genre and by his writing situation.

His rough draft of the owl report also contained the following sentences in the
introduction, which were subsequently crossed out (by Robert) and did not appear in the
final draft:

Oh, look at this she’s got 4, 5, 6, 7 eggs! Wow, all this from an old owl that came

from a poor old farm in the open country side. “Caw creek, caw creek” what a

shrill sound. Look at this wing span must be 14 inches at least.

The information that Robert conveys in this longer narrative section in his rough draft
(that owls live on farms in the countryside, that they have a shrill call, their wingspan)
gets transformed into a more informational presentation in his final draft. Had he stayed
with the rough draft wording, his report would have sounded less like a typical
information text. Typical information text includes generic nouns and timeless verbs
(“barn owls have”, not “an old owl has”; Duke & Kays, 1998). Information texts do
sometimes contain narrative beginnings (Pappas, 2002). But texts that continue to mix
narrative and informational elements are more aptly described as hybrids. By attending to
his choice of words, it seems that Robert (with the help of his teacher) is learning to write
within the conventional constraints of information text, while still making choices that
allow him to express his own voice and create his own meaning. This tension between
choice and constraint, and his negotiations with his teacher, seem to help him to learn
both the structures and features of informational genres along with ways in which he can

be creative and expressive within those generic conventions.

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Humor

The results of this analysis show humor to be the element least often used by the
students in this class. As Table 9 illustrates, the use of each craft element varied across
the sets of writing, but eight of the nine elements were employed by all or nearly all of
the students in at least one written text. The exception to that is the element of humor.
Only 38% of students employed humor in at least one written text. Humor was one of the
craft elements that was not a focus of discussion or instruction by Mrs. Burke. However,
humor is an important element of craft (Tower, 1998), and humor was used often and
effectively by Robert. For these reasons, I include humor as a potentially important
element of nonfiction writer’s craft.

Humor is one powerful way that a writer can express her own unique voice in her
writing. Humor can also be a tool through which a writer demonstrates audience
awareness, since humor can work to retain a reader’s attention or even to extend a
reader’s comprehension at the same time that it entertains (see Robert’s use of humorous
illustrations of his similes, and his discussion of this use, in the section titled “Use of
Literary Devices”). As we shall see, Robert incorporated humor into his writing in
various ways, including through his use of visuals, leads, and literary devices.

Use of Leads

Over the course of the year, Robert’s teacher discussed and modeled the use of
various types of leads. Her focus in this instruction was related to the development of
audience awareness in her students. She encouraged them to consider interesting and

varied leads that would “hook the reader” and make the reader want to keep reading. She

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also indicated herself as an important reader, emphasizing that she didn’t want to read 26
reports that all began “I’m going to tell you about wolves.”

In his first text, the fingerprints report, Robert used a question as a lead: “Have
you ever solved a mystery just with fingerprints? I have.” This use of a question as a way
to “book” a reader was suggested and modeled by his teacher. His response, “I have”,
serves to connect his question of the reader to the upcoming content and to establish
himself as something of an authority on the topic. The following two sentences in his
introductory paragraph set up the two purposes of the piece: to recount his experience (“I
did it in school it was an assignment in class.”) and to provide information about
fingerprints (“I also learned about them”).

As he did in his fingerprints piece, Robert began his matter report with a question:
“Did you know that everything that has weight and takes up space is matter?” Again,
Robert chose to use a question to begin his piece. The question also allowed him to
include some important content (that matter takes up space and has weight).

In his owl report, Robert tried out a different type of lead. Instead of aiming to
hook his readers with a statement or question directed right at them, he relied more on
interesting language and humor to capture and hold their attention. He used a narrative
opening. This was one of many suggestions that his teacher provided for ways to lead
into the report. The opening paragraph of his final draft reads as follows:

Oh no, I’m late for the owl show. I can’t wait to learn about owls,
especially the barn owl. ‘Doot doot doot doot doot doot dooooooo.’ Just in time!

They’re presenting the barn owl! Barn owls have a unique size, call, and

especially cool habitats for owls. It raises young like other owls, too.

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This opening presents a narrative beginning, which is presumably intended to draw the
reader into the piece, but it quickly focuses on the main topic, owls, and introduces some
of the characteristics that will be discussed in the report. Robert does not stay in a
fictional narrative structure for very long before returning to an informational structure
that he employs for the remainder of the report.

In the wolf report, he tried yet another type of lead:

Wolves are great creatures. I mean, they keep the amount of game at a
good rate, they have awsome abilities to help them do their jobs in nature. Though
there aren’t many they are well spread out around the world. They are as cool as
rock stars. These things are number one types of dogs.

This time, he presented something more closely resembling an argument in his lead. He
began with a statement of opinion (“Wolves are great creatures”) and went on to begin a
justification of that statement (a justification that would continue throughout the report).
Thus, over the course of the year Robert tried out several different types of leads.
Each one was aimed at gaining and holding a reader’s attention. Each one revealed
Robert’s awareness of audience as well as his unique voice.
Use of Questions
In addition to his use of questions as leads, Robert employed questions in other
places in his writing. As noted earlier, often this use of questions suggested an awareness
of audience. Robert used three questions in his matter report. Recall that Robert began
that report with a question: “Did you know that everything that has weight and takes up
space is matter?” Robert’s next question (and answer) comes in the second paragraph,

and it gives a sense of his voice: “Whats an atom made of you say? Why protons,

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neutrons, and electrons.” This use of questions allows Robert to speak directly to his
audience, while helping him to provide important content and to transition between ideas.
His third question serves as a lead for his third section, and as a transition between the
second (“describe matter”) and third (“describe the properties that make a solid a solid”)
sections of his report: “Did you know you are a solid?” Again, Robert goes on to answer,
or extend, his question: “If you didn’t, now you do.” Thus, Robert expressed his voice
through his use of questions as he communicated directly with his audience. In his wolf
report, it seems that Robert used a question to draw the reader closer to the content: “Can
you belive their noses are big enough to hold two million smelling cells” (p. 4). His use
of questions was becoming more varied, from his initial use to hook a reader, to later
purposes of providing content, expressing his voice, and transitioning from one idea to
the next.

In addition to these purposes, the students in Robert’s class used questions for
many other interesting reasons, and the use of questions became more varied and
complex over time. For example, these student writers asked readers to imagine
themselves in situations, or to imagine hypothetical situations:

Charlie: “If you were a wolf how would you raise your pups to be good hunters?”

John: “What would it be like if wolves were herbivores?”

Michellez. “If you were a wolf what would you do for physical adaptations?”

Rickz. “If you’re a wolf pup, ges what’s for dinner?”

They quizzed the reader about content:
Charlie: “Are wolfs camivors, herdivores, or ondivores?”

They assumed some knowledge on the part of the reader:

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Charlie: “Have you ever wondered why wolfs build there dens on high grounds?”
They turned the question into a kind of game:
Carrie “Guess what the male would weigh? If you guessed 80-120, you won!”
They dispelled myths or set the record straight:
John “Did you know that wolves aren’t dangerous and blood-thirsty like in the
stories?”
Simon. “Do you remember the story about the Big Bad wolf? The information in
this report could have saved poor old Grany.”
They helped readers connect to their own experience:
Robert: “’Listen to me now!’ Does that sound familiar?” I know it does everyone
has heard it before. Did your parents tell you it was a lesson?”
Rick: “Do you have a family I do, and so do wolvs”
Rick. “Have you ever met a kid that just gets blamed? Wolfs have these kids to
their called scapegoats”
Finally, students combined their questions with onomatopoeia. or pretending to hear the
animal:
Carrie: “Hoooooool, Hoooooooool. What was that?”
Michelle: “Who was that? I think it is a bird. No, its a wolf.”
Rick: “’Gerrrr,’ thats a wolf‘s growl. Do you know why they do that?”
Each of these purposes for questioning revealed an awareness of audience, as students
worked to engage their readers with the topic, to express and share excitement about the

topic, and to help their readers to comprehend new information. The varied purposes for

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which writers may choose to employ questions in their writing makes this element of
nonfiction craft a powerful and important one.
Use of Literary Devices

In their science writing, students employed various literary devices including
similes, onomatopoeia, personification, and alliteration. Robert started exploring literary
and figurative language in his first text, the fingerprints report. The third paragraph of
that report contains a simile: “When a crime is committed police find prints at the sight.
It’s kind of like the person leaving their name, but they wrote very sloppily.” Robert’s
early use of a simile (he was one of the few students to do so in this assignment, see
Table 9) suggests that he was inclined to experiment with language. The simile be
employed also suggests that he was considering his audience by looking for ways to
compare new ideas to concepts that are generally familiar (a craft element that will be
discussed in more detail later).

As Table 9 indicates, student use of literary devices was low in the first two sets
of writing (fingerprints and matter), but then very high (100%) in the second two sets of
writing. In the owl and wolf reports, Robert’s use of craft began to include more focus on
literary devices and figurative language. This focus reflected the increased attention that
Mrs. Burke was paying in her instruction to figurative language and literary devices. In
addition to the narrative opening be employed in his owl report, Robert used other types
of literary language. He resumed his experimentation with similes, which was started in
the fingerprints report:

One of the barn owls habits is flying. It flies in the hills and the fields. It flies like

a glider. It also hunts a lot. They love food. I mean they eat like horses!

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Robert continued to play with sinriles in the wolf piece. In another example of the
inter-relatedness of the various craft elements, one of the most prominent ways that
Robert expressed his voice in this piece was through his use of similes and their
accompanying pictures. The first example comes from his very first paragraph: “They are
as cool as rock stars.” The picture on this page showed an image of a wolf, an equal sign,
and a picture of a rock star (see Figure 3). On page two, Robert inserted another
unexpected simile: “Last but not least wolves are warm blooded. Sometimes they can
become as hot as the Greek god Hades.” It seems as if Robert’s use of similes is
becoming more creative and less conventional. As compared to the similes in his owl
report (“flies like a glider”, “eat like horses”), this comparison of wolves to a Greek god
is more playful and unusual. Robert used another interesting and unexpected simile on
page three: “Weighing seventy to one hundred pounds these aren’t animals you want to
mess with. Their as mean as sumo wrestlers.” The friendly advice offered in the phrase
“these aren’t animals you want to mess with” again indicates some use of a more
informal, confiding tone, suggesting further Robert’s closeness to the subject, which
seems to have resulted in the presence of his voice. The humorous simile is accompanied
by a funny picture (see Figure 4) in which Robert depicts a cross between a wolf and a
sumo wrestler, with the label “sumo wrestlers” and an arrow pointing at the bulging
stomach. In our interview, I asked Robert specifically about his use of similes:

Cathy: You used some interesting similes, and I was wondering how you thought

of them: “Cool as a rock star”, “As mean as sumo wrestlers”

Robert: (laughs)

Cathy: Why did you choose to put those in?

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Robert: I just thought they were kind of funny and they had a small humor to

them, but they also still worked with what I had written.

Cathy: Okay. What do you mean they worked with what you had written?

Robert: Like, they’re not saying something that doesn’t have anything to do with

all this reading and that thing

Cathy: Okay, so they’re related, somehow, but they’re also funny. Why is, why
did you want it to be funny?

Robert: Ah, because usually when I read books that don’t have anything funny in

them, sometimes I like ‘em, but usually they’re just really boring.
Robert reports that his use of humor was intentional. He indicated that he was trying to
accomplish two goals in his writing: keeping the content relevant (“they also still worked
with what I had written”) while at the same time including humor so as to keep the piece
interesting for a reader. Again we have an example of the ways in which these writer’s
craft elements are related. Robert’s use of similes indicates voice, shows his use of
humor, and suggests attention to an audience whose attention he wishes to retain and
whose comprehension he wants to support.

While similes represented the majority of Robert’s experimentation with literary
devices, he also tried out the technique of onomatopoeia in his owl report:

Barn owls are shrill sounding creatures to me, like a loud, ‘Cow creek, cow

creek’. It’s sort of a rasping or creeking.
Onomatopoeia is a literary device more commonly associated with poetry, but Mrs.
Burke modeled its use in science writing, and many of her students tried it out in their

texts. For example:

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Cherie:“This amazing bird makes a noise that sounds like ‘hoo hoo’. When the
snowy owl is excited it also makes a ‘hooo uh hooo hu wah wah wah ‘ sound.”

David: “Other calls of the snowy owl sound like, ‘Kruff-gah-gunk’ or ‘Hooo-uh,

hoo-uh, hooo-uh, wuh-wuh-wuh-wuh.’”

Ella: “’00000, 000 000 Ooooo.’ Oh, the sound of the grey wolf. Isn’t it lovely?”

Allie: “Howoooo...! That is a wolf trying to contact another wolf to try and join a
pack. Grr..! That was a wolf asking another wolf if they want to play.”

Amanda: “’Boom’, the shooting of a gun made wolves almost became exinct.”
Mrs. Burke named this literary device and encouraged its use among her students.

Robert experimented with language in other ways as well. His sentence phrasings
were sometimes varied and sophisticated, as evidenced in his use of a complex sentence
in the line “Though there aren’t many they are well spread out around the world.” At one
point in his wolf report (page four), he tried out some alliteration: “They can detect
freind, foe, or food from a mile and a half away.” Also, his use of phrases such as “Last
but not least” is another example of his voice. While phrases such as “last but not least”
have an informal tone, they serve to include a sense of voice without undermining the
overall authority of the piece. A suggestion that Mrs. Burke made that was intended to
help her students to vary their use of language was to rearrange the order of one or more
sentences, putting the end part first and the first part at the end. Robert tried out this
strategy: “Weighing twenty 02’s is the barn owl.” and “Weighing seventy to one hundred
pounds these [wolves] aren’t animals you want to mess with. In short, Robert seemed
eager to experiment with many different uses of language in his science writing.

Connecting the New to the Known

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The technique of helping readers connect to their prior knowledge is one that is
used by skilled writers of nonfiction (Bamford & Kristo, 1998). Robert used similes and
other comparisons in order to help readers link new information that he was presenting to
other, more familiar knowledge. In these examples from his wolf report, Robert compares
new information about wolves to presumably more general knowledge, or he compares
new information about wolves to facts about or experiences of human beings:

p. 4: Wolves have great abilities. They’re very speedy creatures. Wolves can run

thirty five miles an hour. Thats exactly half as fast as the worlds fastest mammal,

the cheetah!

p. 8: ‘Listen to me now!’ Does that sound familiar? I know it does everyone has

heard it before. Did your parents tell you it was a lesson? It might be but for

wolves I know it is. Wolves hear that a lot from babysitters.

p. 11: They talk as much in one day as a human in two.

p. 13: Wolves spend as much time hunting as humans sleep.

p. 15: Wolves have been around two million years. That’s forty times as long as

the human race.

p. 15: A full size coyote is only half the size of a wolf.

These comparison examples all relate new information about wolves to presumably more
familiar information about humans and other animals. Robert’s attempt to help his
readers make connections of new material to existing knowledge suggests that he is
aware of the potential needs of his audience, and that he is working to master various
techniques of craft that will allow him to support (and entertain) his readers.

Reference to Authority

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An important characteristic of nonfiction texts is their inclusion of information
that confirms the accuracy of the information contained within (Bamford & Kristo,
1998). Barnford and Kristo (1998) argue “It is important to guide students in becoming
critical and thoughtful readers by encouraging them to consider the author’s credentials,
research process, involvement of other experts, etc” (p. 22). In turn, student writers of
nonfiction need to learn various ways in which they can verify for readers the accuracy of
their text. One way that students in Robert’s classroom did this was by the inclusion of
bibliographies that could allow a reader to examine the sources that were used in the
research process. Another way that Robert addressed the issue of accuracy was by
making references to authorities, either outside authorities or to his own experiences that
rendered him an authority on a given topic. In his fingerprints report, he asserts his own
authority in an indirect way. His opening paragraph reads: “Have you ever solved a
mystery just with fingerprints? I have. I did it in school it was an assignment in class. I
also learned about them.” This information about his own knowledge and experience
serves to establish himself as an authority on the topic who is qualified to talk about it in
an informative way. He was the expert because he had experience using fingerprints to
solve a crime, and because he learned about fingerprints in his class.

In his matter report, Robert called on outside authority to support the accuracy of
his assertions. In each of the three paragraphs about states of matter, Robert made
reference to authority by stating that “studies show” something. For example, he said,
“Studies show a solid does not change shape easily.” and “Studies show all liquids have
weak bonds.” Robert seems to have a sense that nonfiction texts need to rest on some

authority; some source of information that is accurate and verifiable. His references to

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authority may be an indication of his attention to the specific characteristics of the
informational genre. Such attention to genre is an important element of a writer’s craft,
since effective writing fulfills the purpose of the genre as well as the writer’s purpose.
Use of Visuals

Only two sets of writing that the students did in this class (matter and wolves)
included the use of visual elements (such as drawings, graphs, and charts) by a majority
of the students (see Table 9). These two assignments were the ones for which Mrs. Burke
required visuals. Three students chose to use visuals in their fingerprints report, despite
the fact that this use was not required by their teacher.

Visuals play many important roles in nonfiction texts (Moline, 1995, Purcell-
Gates & Duke, in press). Visual texts are often accessible to many readers, may be
complex and multi-layered, and can communicate certain information more clearly than
verbal texts. They can serve to support readers’ comprehension by extending or clarifying
written text. Visuals are used widely in informational texts, and also in electronic media.
For young writers, visuals represent another avenue through which ideas can be
expressed and meaning can be made. Often students who struggle with writing are better
able to use visual representations to convey meaning.

Robert employed seven visuals in his matter report that explicitly served to extend
or reflect the written text. On the first page, he drew an abstract representation of the
periodic table, with the caption “Periodic table of elements all 109”. This visual served to
extend his text, which didn’t explicitly refer to the Periodic Table (though it did state that
there are “one-hundred and nine elements”). He also included a visual with the caption

“Newest electron cloud modle”, which also extended his text by giving more information

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about electrons. On the second page, he presented a visual with the caption “examples of
mixtures”. Again, this visual served to extend his text, which gave basic definitional
information about mixtures. The visual showed drawings and their accompanying
captions: “books”, “melted crayon to a pencil”, and “chemical”. On the third page, he
included a sidebar that contained only text, which read: “53%: You, rocks, doors,
Books, trees, plants, pencils, toys, plas [cut off]. Everything hard.” (See figure 5).
Though the sidebar did contain only text, it served to set this particular information apart
from the running text of his report, and is visual in that sense. He also included a chart
that showed pictures of molecules that were “heated”, “plain”, and “cooled” (see figure
5). Notice that his chart contained words that served as headings or labels, as well as a
visual representation of the spacing of molecules in matter at different temperatures.

The other text in which Robert employs visuals is his wolf report. Recall that
Robert used several unconventional similes in this report. The illustrations that
accompany his similes, in which he compares wolves to rock stars (see Figure 3) and to
sumo wrestlers (see Figure 4), are examples of visuals that reinforce information
presented in the text (while adding an element of humor). In addition to illustrations such
as those, he also used diagrams that worked to provide more support to readers in
comprehending new information. The first of those appeared on page five of his report
(see Figure 6). Notice Robert’s use of labels, captions, and a “speech” bubble. The text
on that page stated “They can hear a sound several miles away.” The accompanying
diagram included a caption (“hear several miles away”) and depicted one wolf howling
(the word “howl” in a speech bubble coming from its mouth) and another wolf hearing

that howl from three miles away. The miles are marked by hatch marks and labeled (“1

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mile”, “2 miles”, “3 miles”), and there are trees along the distance from one wolf to the
other. The second diagram appears on page seven of his report, opposite the page on
which he describes wolves’ dens (see Figure 7). In this diagram, he labels the parts of the
den that he described in the text, thus providing support to his readers in visualizing the
dens. Both of these diagrams evidence a growing sophistication in Robert’s use of
visuals. Previous work with visuals in children’s information books (Purcell-Gates et al.,
2003) has indicated that illustrations and diagrams are not merely decorative but instead
serve to extend or clarify the text and usually include captions and/or labels to help the
reader gain meaning. Robert’s visuals reflect these characteristics. In our interview,
Robert discussed his use of diagrams (or graphs, as he also refers to one of them):

Cathy: I was really interested when I looked at this [wolf report] in some of your

pictures. Can you tell me a little bit about them? Like this one, where you sort of

have this one mile, two miles, three miles//

Robert: This is mainly, this is mainly just, um, it’s partly a picture bit it shows the

different, the difference in how far away they are.

Cathy: Okay, so it’s partly a picture, but it’s partly something else?

Robert: Yeah.

Cathy: Like what, do you know?

Robert: It’s like a graph, kind of.

Cathy: It’s like a graph? Okay. And what about this one, where you have the dens,

and you have the pathway and the puppy chamber.

Robert: Um, it’s just urn, labeled, all the different, um, places in the diagram. 1 get

that out of a lot of my sister’s, um, my sister has these books, they’re the Get-

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Along Gang, and sometimes like at the middle of the book they have this big map

and they have listings where everything is.

Cathy: Oh, so that’s where you got the idea to do it like this?

Robert: Yeah.

Robert’s talk suggests that he is still a bit uncertain about how to discuss these visuals. At
the same time, he seems to see a difference between the two, calling the first one a graph
(see Figure 7) and the second one a diagram (see Figure 8). He revealed that his diagram
was inspired by some fiction books that he had read, suggesting that inspiration for
nonfiction writing can come from various places. This intertextual awareness may have
influenced Robert’s writing in other unknown ways as well.

A third illustration provides further evidence of Robert’s growing sophistication
in his use of visuals. On page 15 of his report, he includes a scale model. The text on
page 15 states “A full size coyote is only half the size of a wolf.” His corresponding
illustration has a caption that reads “bigger than a full size coyote”. It shows labeled
pictures of a wolf and a coyote, with the wolf appearing to be about twice the size of the
coyote. Thus, in his wolf report Robert experimented with several different types of
visuals. The importance of visual elements of texts will be discussed further in the
conclusion section.

Conclusion

The analyses conducted on both the writing and context data from a fourth grade
classroom resulted in a list of nine elements of writer’s craft related to nonfiction writing
in science (see Table 8). The contextdata included field notes taken during observations

of science class, interviews with the teacher and students, and artifacts related to

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instruction. The written data consisted of 103 science texts (and additional rough drafts)
composed by the students in this class. This analysis of nonfiction writer’s craft supports
four conclusions, which are discussed below. The paper concludes with a brief discussion
of suggested future directions for research.

First, a number of elements of writer’s craft are evident in these fourth graders’
writing. The analyses suggest that children are able to attend to larger generic and
rhetorical issues such as audience, purpose, style, tone, and voice as they develop their
writing craft. An examination of Robert’s science writing revealed rich examples of these
elements in one young writer’s work. Robert’s use of voice, visuals, leads, humor, similes
and other literary devices; his attention to audience, and his negotiation of the ever-
shifting boundary between choice and constraint provide a beginning map for teachers
and researchers who wish to study and support the development of craft among young
writers. The list of craft elements described here can provide a starting place for
researchers who wish to explore the ways in which students learn to select and use
elements of craft in their nonfiction writing. The list can help teachers to become aware
of the various elements of craft that are available to writers of nonfiction so that they can
carefully consider how to support their students in the development of their writing craft.
In addition, the list may encourage discussion and careful thought about particular
elements of craft that may not be valued or understood by teachers and others who wish
to support students’ nonfiction writing.

The second conclusion is that craft elements are closely inter-related and often
overlapping. For example, the analysis presented here suggests that as an element of

craft, voice gets expressed through many of the other elements. The same is true of

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elements such as attention to audience and humor. Robert’s use of the craft elements
illustrates their inter-connected nature. His use of similes incorporated a literary device,
humor, attention to audience, voice, and visuals. He also expressed voice and attention to
his audience through his use of interesting leads, which were sometimes in the form of
questions. His references to authority, his use of visuals, and his connections of the new
to the known suggested further attention to the needs of his audience. In short, it is
impossible to separate out the elements of nonfiction writer’s craft. They work together in
complex ways to help a writer express a message.

The third conclusion is that the teacher may play an important role in students’
developing understanding and use of nonfiction writer’s craft elements. Nonfiction
writer’s craft is not a matter of “anything goes”, but rather a dance between choice and
constraint. Teachers can play an important role in supporting their students as they learn
this dance. Or, teachers may neglect some or all elements of writer’s craft, and this too
can send a powerful message to student writers. The importance of the teacher’s role is
suggested by the results that are presented in Table 9, especially related to literary
devices and visuals. The percentages of students employing these two elements seem to
be associated not with a developmental trend or with the point in the school year, but
instead with the assignment guidelines and the focus of instruction.

In this analysis, it seemed that Robert and his classmates were working to express
their own voices and to engage their audiences, while at the same time working to meet
the expectations and requirements of their teacher and to negotiate the tension between
choice and constraint that confronts all writers. Mrs. Burke provided structured

organizational, content, and grammar requirements that were designed to help her

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students to learn conventions of the informational genre, but she also provided instruction
and modeling of the use of various elements of .writers craft which presented her students
with choices in their writing. Thus, Robert and his classmates were confronted with both
the opportunity to make choices in their writing and the responsibility to adhere to
generic and instructional requirements for their texts. Robert seemed to actively negotiate
this tension, as we saw in the examination of his rough drafts and what he cut from them
on the way to a final product. His written texts suggest that he did, in fact, experiment
with language and convey his own voice in his writing at the same time that he produced
texts that were effective in meeting the purpose of the informational genre. By attending
to specific elements of nonfiction writer’s craft, Mrs. Burke provided for her students a
context in which they were supported as they practiced with different writing tools and
techniques. Her requirements that they use particular elements (such as literary devices,
questions, and interesting leads) as well as her instructional attention to those elements
served to support her students in their use of these writers’ tools.

Teachers can also neglect writer’s craft. My work to date suggests that visuals
represent one such element that isn’t valued by teachers, and thus isn’t given much, if
any, instructional attention. Scholars have emphasized the importance of visuals in
supporting comprehension, providing multiple ways to express meaning, and influencing
the response to books of even very young readers (Moline, 1995, Purcell-Gates & Duke,
in press; Tower, 2002). Robert and his classmates used visuals to serve many purposes in
their science writing. Indeed, visuals served an important role in Robert’s craft. They
allowed him to extend and clarify his written text, to express meaning in multiple ways,

and to express his voice, especially through the use of humor. Yet despite the many

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compelling reasons to include visuals in written nonfiction text, I have evidence to
suggest that the teachers in my study (and thus their students) did not value visuals as
important aspects of texts, or they considered them to be of only minor importance as
compared to written words (Tower, in preparation). Moline (1995) asserts, “Drawing can
sometimes be neglected or treated as an add-on reward or afterthought in the classroom.
Even in classrooms where there are many opportunities to draw there is sometimes the
assumption that in the end drawing is not really as important (as useful, as serious) as
writing” (p. 15). As Robert’s work has shown us, visuals can play many important roles
in helping a young writer to express his ideas about science. Teachers and researchers
would do well to pay more attention to this important aspect of writing craft.

Voice is another element of nonfiction writer’s craft that deserves more attention.
Humorous visuals were but one way in which Robert expressed his voice as a writer.
Robert expressed his voice and his personality through the use of many of the craft
devices discussed here. His voice often came through most strongly when he was
attending to the perceived needs of his audience; that is, when he was attempting to draw
and keep their attention through the use of interesting leads and humor, and when he was
attempting to support their comprehension through the use of similes and comparisons,
visuals, and a confiding tone. Though Mrs. Burke didn’t use the term “voice” in her
writing instruction, this instruction still seemed to support a sense of voice on the part of
her students. Her efforts to encourage her students to pay attention to the needs of their
audience by using compelling leads and interesting language seemed to foster a sense of

voice in their written texts.

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Though it is often easy to get a “sense” of voice in a written text, it is much more
difficult to define voice, or to say exactly what it is that makes us judge a text as
possessing voice. Romano (2003) described the difficulty he had with in trying to
convince teachers to include voice as one category in a holistic scoring rubric of students’
writing. Teachers complained that voice is “too hard to explain, to slippery, too messy,
too elusive” (Romano, 2003, p. 50). Despite this, Romano argued that voice should be
included when we consider the important elements of good writing:

To my mind, what is unnamed is unrecognized, what is unrecognized is unvalued.

Voice is made up of many aspects of writing, but there is a gestalt at work, too.

Voice emerges as greater than the sum of its parts. (Romano, 2003, p. 50)

Much more research attention is needed to the issue of voice, as well as to other elements
of nonfiction writer’s craft.

Finally, much more work is needed to help us understand elements of nonfiction
writer’s craft; the ways students use them and the ways teachers may support their
students’ use. There has been little research attention to the ways in which students learn
(or fail to learn) to negotiate boundaries related to generic choices and constraints. With
regard to children’s learning of convention, in a book aimed at teachers of writing,
Fletcher (1993) expressed a concern:

...when children learn the proper conventions, it seems that their language cools to

safe correctness. With older children it’s rarer to see the same degree of freedom,

the bold images and striking metaphors, that we see with younger children. (p.

141)

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F‘

 

Research is needed to bear out this claim that older children’s writing contains fewer bold
images and striking metaphors than the writing of younger children. Robert’s work
presents one example of a somewhat older student who did choose to risk the use of
unconventional similes and humorous visuals in his writing. It seems that the
environment in his fourth grade class provided the space in which Robert could play with
language and explore the possibilities of science writing. Certainly, teachers must help
students to come to terms with the conventions of written language. But it seems equally
important that teachers encourage risk-taking among their students with regard to writing,
foster a sense of voice, and help their students to develop their craft as writers.
The task of meeting these multiple purposes may be more easily said than done.

In order to be effective at helping students to negotiate boundaries of choice and
constraint, teachers need to be knowledgeable about language, and about the styles of
language, discourses and genres that are used in various content area or discourse
communities. Within any content area, people use multiple genres and styles to fulfill
multiple communicative purposes. Those who work within the scientific discourse
community labor within specific conventional rules and expectations to which they must
adhere if their work is to be valued by others within the community. As the eminent
scientist Edward O. Wilson (2001) argues, “Science writers are in the difficult position of
locating themselves somewhere between the two stylistic poles of literature and science”
(p. xix). He explains:

A[n]... obstacle to converting science into literature is the standard format

of research reportage in the technical journals. Scientific results are by necessity

couched in specialized language, trimmed for brevity, and delivered raw.

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Metaphor is unwelcome except in small homeopathic doses. Hyperbole, no matter
how brilliant, spells death to a scientific reputation. Understatement and modesty,
even false modesty, are preferred, because in science discovery counts for
everything and personal style next to nothing.

In pure literature, metaphor and personal style are, in polar contrast,
everything. The creative writer, unlike the scientist, seeks channels of cognitional
and emotional expression already deeply carved by instinct and culture. The most
successful innovator in literature is an honest illusionist. His product, as Picasso
said of visual art, is the lie that helps us to see the truth. Imagery, phrasing, and
analogy in pure literature are not crafted to report empirical facts. They are
instead vehicles by which the writer transfers his own feelings directly into the
minds of his readers in order to evoke the same emotional response. (p. xviii)

This task of situating oneself as a writer of science text requires complex understandings
of audience, types of writing and different venues for it, and the general discourse rules
and conventions of the scientific community. The task of situating oneself is a
monumental one for any science writer, let alone a fourth grader who may also still be
struggling with basic issues of encoding related to grammar and spelling. And yet, as
Robert’s work suggests, children can attend to larger generic and rhetorical issues as they
develop their writing craft. Students like Robert could benefit from working with teachers
who will provide them with opportunities to read, discuss, and write various types of
science text. They could benefit from teachers with an understanding of the evolving
nature of genres and generic conventions and the ability to help students to understand

the purposes that such conventions serve as well as the constraints that they impose. And

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teachers who strive to support their students in these ways need researchers who will
continue to investigate the cognitive, social, and cultural factors that support and
influence children’s development as writers who work with a sophisticated sense of

writer’s craft.

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Table 8

Nine Elements of Nonfiction Craft Evident in One Fourth Grade Class’s Writing

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Craft Description Examples

Elements

Attention to An important and (in good writing) “How many types of matter are there? If you

Audience pervasive element of craft; is revealed guessed three, you are right. Do you know
in nearly all of the other elements and what they are? They are liquids, solids and
is related to an understanding of the gases.”
purpose of a piece of writing

Voice The ability of a writer to provide a “I can’t believe how they do it. It’s super hard
sense of herself on the page; the to idenify smudged prints.”
reader’s sense of a person behind the “Did you know that wolves aren’t dangerous
text; expressed through many of the and blood-thirsty like in the stories? Wolves
other craft elements including humor, are very affectionate loving creatures! Sure,
leads, and visuals they might kill other animals, but they do it to

survive.”

Humor Expressed through words and visuals; “1 wish I was a wolf, because they can smell a
related to voice, and often evidences mile and a half away. Then I would know how
attention to audience; serves to render a close I am to Mickey D’s! Ha ha.”
text more interesting and/or accessible
to a reader

Use of Leads Various types of leads can be used to “The wolf is a very neat social animal.”
gain and hold a reader’s attention, “’0000, 000, 000’. Oh the sound of the grey
including asking a question, presenting wolf. Isn’t it lovely?”

a narrative vignette, and making an
assertion

Use of Questions can be used for various “Have you heard an owl? If you did, it was

Questions purposes in a text, including to serve as roosting. They are as silent as the wind when
openings (leads). to directly address a they are flying."
reader and/or to engage a reader, to “Did you know that wolves aren’t dangerous
present information, and to transition and blood-thirsty like in the stories?”
between ideas or sections

Use of Includes the use of similes, “Hoo-hoo. That’s the call of a great master of

Literary onomatopoeia, personification, survival, the snowy owl!”

Devices alliteration, hyperbole. Attention to “Always soaring like the wind and hunting
language, exploration of various like a shark, they catch their prey.”
figurative langage techniques

Connecting An important consideration for writers “Do you know what a gas is? For an example

the New to of nonfiction; helps to support readers’ when your mom is cooking on the stove,

the Known comprehension by drawing steam comes up. That is a gas.”

comparisons or pointing out
connections of new information
presented in the text with more general
knowledge, or with presumed existing
knowledge

 

Reference to

An important consideration for writers

“Studies show...”

 

 

Authority of nonfiction; acknowledgement of the “You can even ask our teacher!"
writer's responsibility to present “Many researchers have decided...”
information that is accurate and “Results of the 1998-99 Winter Wolf surveys
verifiable confirmed the presence of...”

Use of The use of various forms of visual See figures 3-8

Visuals representation of information, including

 

illustrations/drawings, graphs, tables,
charts, diagrams, and scale models

 

 

125

 

Table 9: Percentage of Students Using Each Element of Nonfiction Craft

 

Fingerprints Matter Owls Wolves % Students using
element in at least

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

one piece
Audience 100 100 95 100 100
Awareness
Voice 95 76 100 100 100
Humor 0 5 5 38 38
Leads 100 100 100 100 100
Questions 41 90 45 62 100
Literary 9 10 100 100 100
Devices
Connecting 86 95 65 100 100
New to
Known
Reference to 100 19 45 95 100
Authority
Visuals 14 86 0 95 96

 

 

126

 

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Figure 3: Robert’s Rock Star Drawing

127

 

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Figure 4: Robert’s Sumo Wrestler Drawing

128

 

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Figure 5: Robert’s Sidebar and Chart

129

 

Figure 6: Robert’s Wolf Distance Diagram

130

 

Figure 7: Robert’s Wolf Den Diagram

 

CONCLUSION

In this final section, I will reflect on my experiences and discuss the journey that
has resulted in this document. The overarching theme of this section is considerations
related to genre. The section is organized into three large subsections, each of which
relates to the theme of genre. First, I will discuss the experience of writing an alternative
format dissertation, and I will argue in favor of the experience. Second, I will reflect on
the journey that began during my experience as a fourth grade teacher who implemented
an inquiry curriculum, how that led to the questions I ultimately pursued in my
dissertation, and how the dissertation has led me back to the larger questions surrounding
inquiry process. Third, I will reflect more generally on issues of writing. I will consider
how the writing of this dissertation has expanded and challenged my ideas about genre,
how my thinking about genre has changed, and how my consideration of children’s
writing led me to reflect in new ways on my own writing.

Writing a Dissertation in an Alternative Format

From a genre theory perspective, the decision to write an alternative format
dissertation seemed an obvious one. As Duke and Beck (1999) argue, the traditional
dissertation in education meets both classical and modern definitions of genre, but it is a
strange genre that has a limited audience and dissemination and lacks generalizability for
the writer. A traditional dissertation is typically read by very few people (the student’s
committee members, perhaps some family and friends, and the few folks who order it
through inter-library loan or who are assigned to read it as a model by their own advisor).
And writing a traditional dissertation is an unusual experience; people typically write

only one dissertation in their lives (Duke & Beck, 1999). Indeed, they write that

132

 

dissertation at a time when they are in the best position to receive mentoring and
guidance on more generalizable genres, such as the journal article.

In contrast to the traditional dissertation, an alternative format dissertation such as
the one presented in this document has a potentially large audience (with the attending
potential to make an impact on the field) and provides a generalizable experience for the
writer. Each of the manuscripts included in this dissertation will be sent out for review to
major journals in the field of literacy. The experience that I gained in writing articles for
publication will serve me well as I move into a career as a literacy researcher. And
perhaps most importantly, my experiences of conducting the research presented here and
writing it up for publication were supported and guided by knowledgeable others in the
field. This kind of support and scaffolding is just what we argue for in good teaching and
learning situations.

I would describe my experience of writing an alternative format dissertation as a
positive one. While the experience of writing any dissertation is at times overwhelming
and frustrating, the knowledge that my work would be immediately sent out for
publication made the experience feel authentic and worthwhile for me. Of course, given
that people usually only write one dissertation in their lives, I have no other experience to
which to compare this one. I’m sure there must be advantages to writing a traditional
dissertation, given how long that form has endured. But for me, the alternative format
made sense. I agree with Duke and Beck (1999) that education should seriously consider
alternative formats to the traditional dissertation.

My Dissertation Journey

133

 

As I noted in the introduction section, my interest in science writing and inquiry
can be traced back to my experiences as a fourth grade teacher. The journey that took me
from a teacher with a thousand questions about children and inquiry to a researcher with
four carefully constructed questions about fourth graders’ science writing taught me a lot
about the differences between teaching and research and about the process of research.
The metaphor of an hourglass is helpful to me in making sense of the ways in which my
research interests have changed over time. The image of an hourglass also brings to mind
the importance of time in research, and the long amounts of time that it takes to design,
carry out, and write up a research project. Thus, the sand in the hourglass represents both
the time I’ve spent as a novice researcher, completing this dissertation, and the shape of
the hourglass represents the path of my ideas, questions, and focus as along the way.

At the top of the hourglass I was full of questions and overwhelmed by the
unlimited possibilities. As I learned more about research and about what was possible for
one person with no funding to do, my possibilities were quickly narrowed, but many
choices remained. My notes from a meeting with my advisor, Nell Duke, on February 7,
2002 include a list of possibilities for my dissertation. These possibilities included the
following categories: assessment, information-finding behaviors and abilities,
consideration of a new genre, how children understand diagrams and other visuals,
teacher development, and individual differences (e. g., range of levels of genre
understanding). Possibilities that we discussed for the larger focus/design included
assessment, intervention, development, issues of epistemology, accuracy, audience, and
authorship. Possible questions included “How might fourth graders come to understand

genre as social action?” and “Related to source finding and synthesis in student research,

134

 

 

how do students learn to write ‘in their own words’”? Nell recommended that I address a
hole in the literature and consider what’s pragmatic, but also that I make sure I chose a
topic that really interested me.

At a meeting on March 26, 2002, Victoria Purcell-Gates (another mentor and
committee member) suggested that I look at writing in a naturalistic way. She suggested
that I systematically collect writing samples (rough and final drafts) and do a discourse
analysis that both looked for particular things but was also open to seeing “what jumps
out”. She also urged me to capture the instruction that the students received. My next
meeting occurred on April 4, 2002, and included both Nell Duke and Vicki Purcell-Gates.
My notes from this meeting indicate that the process of narrowing down the choices was
moving along quickly. We discussed two possibilities for my dissertation: one that
closely resembles the work I actually did, and another that would have been built largely
on data already collected for the TEXT project. When I asked for my mentors’ advice
about which of these experiences might be more valuable for me, Vicki argued that the
first might be more valuable because it would force me to take my hazy idea and follow it
through to a well-developed proposal, and project. Looking back, I can see exactly what
she meant. My idea was still hazy at that point, and the decisions I made in the process of
designing a well-developed project taught me much about the research process.

In this way, my journey through the hourglass progressed. I began the practice of
writing “research memos” and sending them to Nell and/or Vicki (the rest of my
committee was not yet established) for feedback and guidance. By reading those memos,
I can trace the path of my work. I was quickly moving from the top of the hourglass to

the more narrow middle section. In a memo dated May 8, 2002, I made my first attempt

135

at drafting research questions. These questions would face many, many revisions over the
course of the project. The next steps of submitting a human subjects committee
application, selecting a sample and gaining entry into schools, and designing data
collection instruments and schedules followed. Eventually, I formed the rest of my
committee (adding Joseph Featherstone and Jenny Denyer as the other members) and
successfully defended my dissertation proposal.

As my data collection progressed, I moved closer to the middle part of the
hourglass. I was learning a lot about research at every step; about how to continually
question what I was doing and why (continually developing and refining my rationale),
about how to interact respectfully and productively with teachers and students who
constituted my sample, as well as with principals and others who questioned my presence
in the schools. I also learned that analysis is ongoing, and doesn’t wait until the data
collection is completed. For example, as Jenny Denyer reminded me, transcription is a
form of analysis, and I was transcribing both written texts and oral interviews all along. I
continued to gain an understanding of the recursive, iterative nature of research.

Once the data collection was complete and I turned my attention fully to analysis,
I learned just how much the data had to teach me. I found it fascinating to dive into the
tiny details of the students’ writing. What did their use of the first person pronoun
suggest? What did that exclamation point add to the meaning? I see this time during
which I was immersed in the details of analysis as being the very center of the hourglass.
It was the time when I was most focused on a very small subset of my original concerns
about children’s inquiry. This was also the time during which I found it hardest to talk

about my work. Since I was so close to the details, and thinking so carefully about issues

136

of analysis, I had trouble moving back to a more distant stance that would allow me to
describe my project to someone outside of literacy (or even outside of genre theory and
children’s writing).

But of course, the ability to describe my project to a variety of audiences would
be critical. As I began to write up my results and to share those results with others
(including my committee members, members of my writing group, and the teachers I had
worked with in collecting data), I learned to shift my stance appropriately in order to
communicate effectively with different audiences. The writing also required me to begin
to think about the broader implications of my work, both for research and for practice.
This movement into writing and talking signaled the movement out of the narrow section
of the hourglass. This movement outward is where I am now, at this writing. I am
working hard to consider the broader implications for my work. I am trying to articulate
why anyone would, or should, care about my results. And I am being propelled back to
the original questions and ideas that started me on this journey in the first place.

Reflections on Genre and Writing

My ongoing reflections on genre and writing center on the connections that this
work has highlighted for me between my own writing, the writing of the students in my
study, and issues of genre, hybridity, audience, and purpose.

My thinking about genre continues to evolve and change. As I progress in my
work, I become more and more interested in the differences between theoretical notions
of genre, and genres as they get enacted and used in classroom settings. The following
excerpt is from a research memo dated September 24, 2002. This was early in the process

of data collection.

137

 

As I’m observing in classrooms and reading the writing samples I’m
collecting, I can see that the notion of “genre” is going to be really problematic.
Oh no! I started this study with the aim of looking at “informational” writing, but
how will I define that? Must I define it in some way that someone else has (e. g.
the TEXT study)? Can I use a broader genre category? The problem arises when
the teachers don’t use my neat categories in giving writing assignments, and
instead prompt a variety of genres (sometimes, they prompt more than one genre
within the same assignment). For example, the first piece of writing I collected at
[Rose Elementary] was completed within pretty strict parameters set by the
teacher. They worked from a web, to a rough draft (which the teacher corrected,
principally for spelling and other mechanical errors), to a final draft. She
prescribed the number of paragraphs, etc. And her directions prompted both
recount (tell about the fingerprint investigation we did in class) and information
(tell about fingerprints) genres.

I’ve seen a similar thing happen at [Laurel Elementary]. The teacher gave
a worksheet with two questions that prompted information writing, but she set up
the activity by having students look at particular rocks and describe the features of
them (thus prompting descriptive writing).

I have to say, I’m fascinated by the children’s written responses to these
conflicting genre prompts. I would like to investigate this more, but I need to
think carefully about what kinds of evidence I need. Shall I talk to the students?

How do I probe their understandings?

138

 

This all seems tied to purpose, and of course the genre folks are big on
that. The problem here is that I can’t see much of a purpose for the writing that
the students are doing (except to display some knowledge for the teacher as sole
audience). What implications does this have for their genre development?

At this point, I was pushing on my understandings and ideas about genre theory and its
application to the classroom and to research in classrooms. I came up with a practical
solution to some of these issues for the purposes of my analysis (using a theoretical
definition of information text and then collecting all writing that was at least partly
informational), but the questions still remain.

Upon reflection, it occurred to me to wonder how often science texts are “all one
genre”. Often, science writers include both informational (e. g. information about simple
machines) and procedural (e. g. how to build a pulley) genres in the same text. Or they
include informational and descriptive text (perhaps by starting with a description of a
particular wetland area, then moving to general information about wetlands). Or they
include descriptive, recount, and information (as when scientists tell us of a journey of
discovery that they undertook). This reflection helped me to better understand the
emphasis that Nell Duke and Vicki Purcell-Gates put on purpose in defining genre in the
TEXT study. In my experience both as a writer and as a researcher of writing, it seems to
me that a writer who has a clear purpose is more likely to produce a coherent text than
one who does not. And a writer with a clear purpose may need to draw upon more than
one genre in a text in order to convey the message they wish to communicate.

Indeed, this dissertation reflects a mix of genres. Because each piece of it serves a

different purpose and is intended for a potentially different audience, the language varies

139

 

across the pieces. The two manuscripts are intended for education research (or more
specifically, literacy education research) audiences, and they are written in the style of
the academic research article. The introduction section is aimed at whatever audience
reads my dissertation as its own document (and not as articles in journals). It aims to
provide a preview, of sorts, of the content to follow. It also aims to provide some
explanation of where the dissertation came from and how it relates to my previous
interests and experiences. This conclusion section is more reflective. It is written for my
committee, some members of which requested it. Perhaps it will have a larger audience as
well, but it certainly won’t reach the number of people that I expect will see my
manuscripts, once they’ve been published. Because of the reflective purpose, it is more
personal and more like recount. But it includes elements of persuasion as well, in the first
section (Writing a Dissertation in an Alternative Format).

What are the implications of these varied writing purposes? My reflection has
revealed some of the consequences that accompany the decisions that writers make.
These consequences are related to genre, as I discussed in my second manuscript.
Further, there are interesting similarities in my experience of writing this dissertation, and
the experience of the students in my study (as I’ve understood it) in writing the various
texts that they wrote in science class. Both the students and I were working in contexts
that shaped the writing that we produced (as do all writers). We had teachers whose
approval we needed in order to achieve some goal (passing a science class, successfully
defending a dissertation). We also worked within particular genres that provided us with
both choices and constraints. For example, the genre of the research article, while making

it easier for me to shape my message by providing structured expectations, also

140

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constrained the choices I could make (while still communicating effectively with my
target audience). At a couple of points early on in the drafting of the first manuscript, I
tried to deviate from the usual “introduction, method, analysis, results, conclusion”
format. I met with resistance to my deviation from members of my writing group and a
member of my committee. It seems that my deviation (though it also didn’t work well for
other reasons) got in the way of their expectations, and thus their comprehension of my
message. In my second manuscript, 1 reported a similar negotiation between Robert, one
of the students at Rose Elementary, and his teacher.

This process of negotiation between a writer and his or her audience illustrates the
two dimensions of genre that I have written about in the manuscripts: the structural,
formal dimension and the social, functional dimension. These two dimensions interact in
ways that serve both to move the genre forward in its usefulness to a discourse
community and to hold the genre constant such that it allows for clear communication
between writer and reader. Our readers (for me, my committees and writing group; for
Robert, his teacher) held particular expectations for the form and content of our writing.
Insofar as they expected us to communicate clearly with them in predictable ways, our
audiences pushed us to adhere to generic conventions. At the same time, our audiences
also held the expectation that we would write texts that were innovative and creative. My
committee members expected me to present findings that are new and important, and that
make a contribution to the field. Robert’s teacher expected him to experiment with
language and to write about a topic in a way that held the attention of his audience. Thus,

our audiences also encouraged us to take risks, and to push at the limits of our genres.

141

 

 

These new insights are helping me to better understand the potential applications and the
limitations of genre theory.

Finally, the process of studying and writing about children’s writing has helped
me to realize the ways in which I am also a developing writer with much to learn. Just as
the students at Rose Elementary experimented with new literary techniques and uses of
language, so did I chart unexplored territory for myself in my academic writing. Just as
the students at Rose took risks by trying out different similes and metaphors in their
writing, so did I. Did my hourglass metaphor of the previous section work? Was it
effective and interesting, or did it sound contrived? I will find out the answers to these
questions through interactions (negotiations) with my audiences, and over time my
experiences of reading and writing will help me to be more confident in my choices. Like
the fourth graders who are learning to write effective science text, I am working to
become a proficient writer of educational research papers. Lucky for me (and the fourth
graders), there are thoughtful and experienced teachers (both “adult” and “peer”) out

there who will support us along our developmental paths.

142

 

Reference

Duke, N. K., & Beck, S. W. (1999). Education should consider alternative formats for the

dissertation. Educational Researcher, 28(3), 31-36.

 

143

 

Appendix A: Macrostructure Organization Categories (modified from Donovan,
2001)

Simple Couplet
0 two related statements—a fact or observation, followed by a related statement
of information serving to describe or extend the first
Attribute List
0 the random listing of two or more facts related to a single topic
0 If there are two related (ie not random) facts, then it is a simple couplet
0 information can be rearranged without any loss of meaning
Complex Couplet
o combination of several related simple couplets of two statements with coherence
created among content units
0 the couplets must stay together, but they can be moved around as a unit without loss
of overall meaning of the text
Basic Sequence
0 contains only one node, and looks like an attribute list, but the units within
that node are related in a sequence; thus, the units aren’t just a random listing
of facts, but instead are related in a particular order
0 generally shows up in pieces that are about certain topics, like the water cycle
or an animal’s life cycle
Hierarchical Attribute LiLt—Menw Topic Sentences
0 two or more basic attribute lists are subsumed under the larger topic
0 the inclusion of subtopics increases the levels of hierarchy and thus creates a
more complex organization
0 within each subtopic, the information could be rearranged without changing
the meaning of the text
0 moves beyond the complex couplet because it has several statements of
information for each subtopic instead of just one
o the lack of connections between and among the information keeps the
subtopics from being complete paragraphs
0 Inferred topic sentences—the topics of each individual node (or of a
majority of nodes) had to be inferred and added to the diagram; there was no
use of explicit topic sentences for each attribute list
Hierarchical Attribute List—Explicit Topic Sentences
0 same as above, except for last bullet
- here, there are explicit topic sentences to introduce each node (or a majority
of nodes) in the diagram
Single Paragraph
0 short pieces that are only one paragraph
0 all the t-units must be in a single node, and they must otherwise meet the
paragraph criteria
0 will usually have an explicit topic sentence

144

 

Appendix A (Con’t)

Unordered Paraggaphs
o inclusion of coherent links among the three or more statements within each

subtopic, creating paragraphs
0 the paragraphs could be rearranged without losing any meaning
0 usually includes explicit topic sentences, but not always
Ordered Paragraphs
0 connections among the paragraphs of the text; they could not be rearranged
without changing the meaning of the text
0 usually includes explicit topic sentences, but not always

145

 

 

Appendix B: Features of Informational Texts

Almost Always

Has description of attributes/components (e.g., “Ants have six legs.”)

Identifies characteristic events (e. g., “Ants eat sugar.”)

Includes at least one definition

Has compare and contrast (talking about ways things are alike and not alike)
Employs some denotative language (e.g., “Most worms are between 1 and 4 inches
long.”

Uses timeless verb constructions (e.g., “Ants eat sugar.” versus “The ant ate sugar” or
“The ant is eating sugar”)

Uses generic noun constructions (e. g., “Ants have legs” versus “That ant has legs” or
“Joe the ant has legs.”)

Has some specialized vocabulary

Has realistic illustrations or photographs

Often

Has an opening statement/general classification (e. g., “Ants are a kind of insect.”)
Has a general statement/closing

Has headings

Has an index

Includes classification (at either the sentence level -“Bees are a kind of insect” or
larger units-“Some frogs live in ponds. Some frogs live in trees. . . .”)

Has labels and/or captions

Has graphical devices (diagrams, tables, charts, boldface/italicized vocabulary)

Less Often

Has a table of contents

From:

Purcell-Gates, V., Duke, N. K., Hall, L., & Tower, C. (2003, December 5, 2003). Explicit
explanation of genre within authentic literacy activities in science: Does it facilitate
development and achievement? Paper presented at the National Reading Conference,
Scottsdale, Arizona.

146

 

Appendix C: Types of Scaffolding: Categories and examples

 

Use of PrewritingTools

o webs

0 note-taking (teacher supported or independent)
0 concept maps

0 main idea/detail sheet

0 Venn diagram

Writing Instruction
direct instruction (on literary elements, leads, use of adjectives, etc)

discussion

brainstorming (topics, leads, etc)
modeling

setting up particular audience

Use of Rough Drafts

0 opportunities for revision

Use/Availability of Text Resources
0 independent search for texts

0 teacher provided texts

o combination of those two

Sflific Guidelines provided
0 organizational tools/suggestions (piece broken into sections, table of contents

provided, etc)

checklist

benchmarks to measure progress
questions/prompts to address

Feedback
0 from teacher prior to final draft
0 from peers

147

Appendix D: Robert’s Written Texts

Note: Robert’s written texts were transcribed faithfully; that is, the transcriptions note his
page breaks and retain his indentions, spelling, punctuation, and titles.

Text #1: Fingerprints
Collected September 24

Have you ever solved a mystery just with finger prints? I have. I did it in school it
was an assigmnent in class. I also learned about them.

One thing I learned was there are three different kinds of finger prints. The first
and most common is the loop. Loops go in on one side and out the same. The second is
not a[s] common as the first but it still exists. They are called arches. They look like hills.
The go in on one side and out on the other. The third and least common is the whorl. It
looks like circles that go and go until they reach the middle.

Finger prints help solve crimes. Everyone’s prints are different. When a crime is
commited police find prints at the sight. It’s kind of like the person leaving their name,
but they wrote very sloppily. The police compare prints to suspects to find the criminals.

The way the police solve crimes is the way I did. First I had to use the suspects
prints and compare them by looking at the size and formulas to the ones at the site. Then
I used the prints of the suspects one last time because the first observation just made the
suspects list smaller and then I found the crimenal.

Text #2: All About Matter

Collected October 29

Page 1
Did you know that everything that has weight and takes up space is matter? There

are one hundred and nine elements. There are three main kinds of matter, and seven
things that make it up. The three kinds are solids, liquids, and gases. The seven things
that make it ups are elements, atoms, mixtures, solutions, molecules, and compounds.

Matter can be living or non-living. Also all matter is made of atoms. Atoms are
the smallest particles something can be broken into. What’s an atom made of you say?
Why protons, neutrons, and electrons. A proton is posotively charged and electron is the
exact opposite it is negitively charged.

page 2
Neutrons are neutral they have no charge.

Elements are made of one kind of atom. Elements are the siplest [simplest?]
chemicals. Exaples are copper or silver. There are 109 known elements.

Mixtures are different of atoms or anything mixed together. There are two or
more elements in a mixture. A mixtures parts don’t react together. Suspensions are a
special kind of mixture. The particles are disbursed through liquids but not dissolve. The
particles are temporarily suspended after that. After a while they settle out.

148

 

Appendix D (Con’t)

Page 3
Compounds are a mixture of two or more elements or atoms. There are a certain

number of each. The elements loose their individual charicteristics.

Did you know you are a solid? If you didn’t, now you do. A solid takes up space
and has weight. It’s molecules [move] all around but don’t move away from each other.
Their molecules are packe very close together. When a solid is heated it’s bonds weaken
and the molecules move faster and faster. A solid has a defmate shape and volume.

Page 4
Studies show a solid does not change shape easily. Solids are visable.

Liquids are the next type of matter. A liquid has not defmate shape, but it does
have a definate volume. All liquids have weight and take up space. It’s molecules are
fairly close. A liquid always goes to the bottom of its container. Studies show all liquids
have weak bonds. When the weak bonds get hot they break. The liquid then turns to gas.
All liquids flow.

A gas has weight and takes up space. There molecule move freely away. Studies
show molecules in a gas are far apart and have no bonds. Also know is gases Chang shape
easily.

Page 5
It’s green it’s slimy it’s it’s Oobleck! Oobleck is a solid and a liquid. We found it

was more a liquid though. We did eight tests to prove. Only five said it was a liquid. The
tests were slowpoke, flow, shape conformity, and shatter tests. two said it was a solid.
those were fast poke and bounce. One said it was both the cut test.

Text #3: Barn Owls

Collected November 26

Page 1
Oh no, I’m late for the owl show. I can’t wait to learn about owls, especially the

barn owl. “Doot doot doot doot doot doot dooooo” Just in time! They’re presenting the
barn owl! Barn owls have a unique size, call, and especially cool habitats for owls. It
raises young like other owls, too.

The barn owl lives on farms, in barns and broken tractors. It also lives in trees in
the woods. They live anywhere they can get /????l the open country side.

One of the barn owls habits is flying. It flies in the hills and the fields. It flies like
a glider. It also hunts a lot. They love food. I mean they eat like horses!

Page 2
They like meadow vole a lot. Barn owls usally eat small rodents. They prefer diffrent if

the can help it but if they have too they will eat birds.
Barn owls are shrill sounding creatures to me, like a loud, “cow creek, cow
cree ”. It’s sort of a rasping or Icreepingl. They range from North and South America all

149

 

Appendix D (Con’t)

the way back to America. They live everywhere except the North and South Pole. They
only live in parts of the places though.

Wheighing twenty 02’s is the barn owl. Barn owls are 32-38 cm tall. Their [p. 3]
width is about 4-12 inches depending on how much they eat. When barn owls raise young
they usually get four to seven eggs. The eggs hatch after 33 days. During the incubation
the male brings the food. The barn owl has brown upper-parts. The[y] have lpole/ under-
parts with light specks.

Rodents mole and shrew were the two things my pellet had in it. If you want
proof, here it is. We found two skulls five legs, and two loose jaws. We found more but
they’re mixed up. The shrew and mole have a lot too but they are way too mixed up to
count. All together we found about eighty four bones.

Text #4: Wolves

Collected January 9

Page 1 -
Wolves are great creatures. I mean, they keep the amount of game at a good rate,

they have awsome abilities to help them do their jobs in nature. Though there aren’t many
they are well spread out around the world. They are as cool as rock stars. These things are
number one types of dogs.

Page 2

Five things that make a wolf a mammal are, for exaple something every mammal
has hair! Wolves bodys are coverd in hair. They also give live birth and give the baby
milk. These animals are vertabrates too. Last but not least wolves are warm blooded.
Sometimes they can become as hot as the Greek god Hadies.

Page 3

These mammals come in many colors, heights, lengths, and weights. They come
in hues of white, gray, black brown, silver and tan. Weighing seventy to one hundred
pounds these aren’t animals you want to mess with. Their as mean as sumo wrestlers.
Wolves average height is twenty six to thirty two inches. Wolves are fifty five inches
long.

Page 4

Wolves have great abilities. They’re very speedy creatures. Wolves can run thirty
five miles an hour. Thats exactly half as fast as the worlds fastest mammal, the cheetah!
They run about forty miles a day. These creatures arent only speedy they have super
senses! All wolves realy on three senses. These are hearing vision and smell. They can
detect freind, foe, or food from a mile and a half away. Can you belive their noses are big
enough to hold two-million smelling cells. Wolves eyes are excellent. They are right in
front of their heads so they can judge long [ p. 5] pounces. Wolves tune into sound by
pricking up ears and twitching them around.They can hear a sound several miles away.

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Appendix D (Con’t)

Page 6

Wolves of North America usualy live in Canada or Alaska, but sometimes they’ll
pop up in the lower forty eight states. The landscape for wolves is mountains and forests.
Their homes in these places might be open areas, caves, /bushes/ and other places like
those. Their den’s are a series of tunnels. They are fifteen feet long and big enough for a
wolf to stand in. They’re is a big camber where the pups are born.

Page 7; diagram w/labels

Page 8

The wolf family is never far apart. Even if they break off, they’re practicaly still
together. They always recognize each other. Some wolves can be as stubborn as a mule.
“Listen to me now!” Does that sound familiar? I know it does everyone has heard it
before. Did your parents tell you it was a lesson? It might be but for wolves I know it is.
Wolves hear that a lot from baby sitters The baby sitters teach the pups a lot. Pups also
learn how to stalk, pounce, swat, and bit through games.

Page 9

The young are cared for by all members of the pack. They are kept safe from
other predators, are kept warm at night and fed. The pack is led by the alpha’s, or top
dog’s. All wolves in the pack have their own rank. Scapegoats are the lowest ranked
wolves.

Page 10
Wolves comunicate in three different ways! Sound, body language, and scent are
those three. Sound and body language are used together.

Page I I

Wolves have to talk far away so they just howl. But they growl bark and whine
close together. They talk as much in one day as a human in two. They use their tail, head,
legs, and face to comunicate. They acutally use every part of their body. Wolves, like
other dogs need space. They use urine and foot scratching too mark that territory. Their
feet let of fumes.

Page 12

M-m-m my favorite, venison! Wolves are carnivores. Their diet consists of deer,
birds, rabbits, elk, caribou, and Buffalo. Wolves are predators. When wolves hunt they
divide up the work. They must work very hard to get food. They usualy look for weak or
sick animals. Wolves hunt in packs because they have more power in numbers. For long
periods of time wolves will track their next meal. When they find it, the alpha male
decides if they can kill it.

Page I 3

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Appendix D (Con’t)

If they can they make a plan and attack. If they can’t they go on. When they attack, they
work as a team. There are many stratigies to catch prey. Wolves spend as much time
hunting as humans sleep.

Page 14

Two types of adaptations are physical and behavioral. All wolves have at least
one of each.Two physical adaptations are their brain power used to plan attacks on food,
and their speed to help work their plan. Two behavioral adaptations are listening to the
leader and keeping each other in line. When they listen they can hear how to get the food
and other things they need to know. Keeping each other in line means no one can mess
things up.

Page 15

Wolves have been around two million years. Thats forty times as long as the
human race. their canines are about two inches long. Wolves walk on their tiptoes. Their
tails hang straight down unlike other dogs who’s tails stand up. A full size coyote is only
half the size of a wolf. Facts about wolves are cool.

Page I 6

Once these great creatures were plentiful, more plentiful than the plants on the
largest plantation on earth. Now theres only a few. They are great huntererankind
needs these carnivores. They would be the first modern day mammal to be extinct if we
didn’t care. Wolves are truly great mammals.

Page I 7: bibliography

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