Stop Calling It a Story: Clarity in Nonfiction Writing

Sometimes, the words we use are confusing.  As a northerner who moved to the south as an adult, it took me a while to figure out that in the south, “Coke” just means any kind of soda.  Where I’m from, Coke is only one specific brand. And it’s always the brown kind.  Or the word toboggan.  This one, to me, is the strangest of all.  Where I’m from, that’s a long, wooden sled.  Turns out, in the south, it’s a cap worn on the head in winter. Imagine my confusion when, upon seeing my new NC kindergarten classroom for the first time, my principal pointed out  the tiny, 10 x 12 cubbies above the coat hooks and told me that kids’ toboggans would fit nicely there in winter. I was totally confused.  

In conversations between northerners and southerners, as in our teaching, words–and their meanings–matter.  Things can easily become lost in translation.

The choice of words used can lead to clarity…or complete confusion.

One place where our words tend to confuse the heck out of kids?  

Writing.  

Specifically, the nonfiction text structure we’re asking for.

In reading, text structure is extremely important.  Dr. Kay Wijekumar of Texas A & M has done a great deal of work with this. Her work with text texture and its role in comprehension has proven to be enormously beneficial.  When students understand the overall structure of a text, they are far better able to determine main ideas and corresponding supporting details to summarize. This works equally well in narrative as well as expository texts.  

When orchestrated well, this understanding then transfers to students’ own writing.  When they know what type of writing they’re doing, they’re better equipped to organize it well because of their understanding of how that type of text is structured. 

But we can really cause confusion when we ask kids to write one type of structure but call it another.  

If we want students to skillfully plan any kind of nonfiction writing, other than narrative nonfiction (which isn’t a common ask), we cannot use the word “story.”

“Continue to work on your stories.”

It happens all the time:

“Take out the story you’ve been working on.”

“When you write your story today…”

When we actually want students to work on their nonfiction writing.

Why is this problematic?

All texts have what the authors of Shifting the Balance 3-5 call a superstructure:  an overarching, main text structure.  It’s the way a text primarily organized that helps convey the author’s purpose. 

Because reading and writing are so very connected, when we ask students to write an expository (nonfiction) text, they come to understand that, depending on the prompt or how they’ve decided to approach the topic at hand, this could mean using a compare/contrast, sequential, problem/solution, or cause and effect structure.  This gives students a framework to lean on.  Nonfiction text structure gives shape to the writing.  

When students understand the text structure, their planning, organization, and execution is far better, no matter what they’re writing.

When we ask them to write a narrative, which is a story, we’re asking for a different, very specific text structure: one that follows an introduction,  rising action, climax, falling action, and resolution structure.

So when we’re teaching lessons all about a particular nonfiction text structure, and we set students up to write in that structure, we confuse the heck out of them when suddenly ask them to do something different.

If you have what we call teacher clarity, you can have a much larger impact on how well your students do in your class. 

-Shaun Killion, Evidence-Based Teaching 

If kids have been working on, say, a procedural piece explaining the steps in a science experiment or an informational piece explaining why a particular animal or insect is amazing, it can totally confuse them when we suddenly tell them to “work on their story.”  

Teaching must be clear.  Which means we have to be careful of the language we use, even with something as seemingly simple as “work on your writing.”

In 2013, John Hattie reported that teacher clarity has an effect size of a whopping .75.  In effect-size terms, with .4 being dead average, .75 is truly a large number.  It makes a tremendous difference.

So while slip ups like calling all writing “a story,” are never intentional, they can have a negative effect on the outcomes we’re hoping for.  

It can lead to confusion, and confusion is never good.

I’m pretty certain you agree that it’s already hard enough for our students to stay on track and focus on the task at hand.  Too often, after we explain something and send kids off to work, there are five hands in the air, asking what they’re supposed to do.  

Let’s do what we can to curb that confusion when it comes to writing.  Let’s be cognizant of using  very intentional wording that matches what we really want our students to do, and avoid causing undue confusion.  

The kind of confusion I had when my principal pointed to those hat-sized cubbies that were not even remotely big enough for any kind of sled.  

Could you use a thinking partner to help you make sure your lesson delivery is crystal clear?  I’m here for you!  Just reach out for a coaching call.  I’m here to help!

---

Or, consider joining my Facebook community–a safe, supportive environment (really!)  where you can ask questions, learn ideas, and share your thoughts among other literacy-loving educators!  

Who is Coach from the Couch??  I’m Michelle Ruhe, a 25-year veteran educator, currently a K-5 literacy coach.  I continue to learn alongside teachers in classrooms each and every day, and it’s my mission to support as many teachers as I can.  Because no one can do this work alone. I’m available to you, too, through virtual coaching calls!