Many years ago, when I was in high school, writing coaches hadn’t been invented. But I had a writing coach. She was our English teacher, and we called her Mrs. Case.
As a teacher, she had her own multiple, daily obligations, one of which was to try to teach me French. (The French didn’t work too well for me, which probably disappointed Mrs. Case.) As for my writing in English, Mrs. Case wasn’t shy about critiquing and grading my assigned papers. But somehow, she took the time to encourage me to write with extracurricular assignments. Her coaching style was to suggest, nudge and sometimes push. Little did she know then that she would be a soft, lingering voice that would suggest and nudge me to become a Montana Writing Coach.
Each Montana Writing Coach has her/his own style, but the fundamental approach is the same for all of us; leave the grading to the teacher, meet students where they are, and move ahead together. Like a story or an essay, a coaching session has a beginning and an end. For me, the beginning is multi-dimensional: logistical-factual, informational, emotional, and serendipitous.
I never think about any of these esoteric criteria when I meet a student. I think, what a young, wonderful person. And then it gets better, with the paper, the student, and me in the same orbit. I’m a partner--a colleague—working to meet a shared goal. And that’s what we do. It’s reciprocity that I hope benefits the student, and I know benefits me.
As someone who still writes “creatively,” working as a Writing Coach, I am frequently inspired to write either by the class assignments or the teacher herself/himself. I’m sure it would be hard to quantify on standardized tests, but the auras of the teacher and students resonate with me.
Here is a haiku with no direct inspiration from a particular teacher or assignment. It does come from being in environments of support, guidance, imagination, opportunity, nurturing, and some nudging and pushing.
The haiku:
A diffident moon
parked on the western horizon.
A bare bulb in an empty closet.
