Ncte blog presentation ppt

Using Blogging to Engage
Students' Voices
1
Sunday, November 17, 13

•Pamela

Hunnisett

•Calgary, Alberta,
Canada

•TWITTER -

@PamelaHunnisett

• hunniwrite@gmail.com
2

•Pamela

Hunnisett

Canada

•TWITTER -

http://thehunni.wordpress.com/

@PamelaHunnisett

2

•Pamela

Hunnisett

Canada

•TWITTER -


@PamelaHunnisett

Foundations
• hunniwrite@gmail.com for the Future
Charter
Academy
2


3

NCTE13

Documents

3

NCTE13

Documents

Class
Blogs

3

NCTE13

Documents

Links to all
the great
educators
who have
inspired me.

Class
Blogs

3

give
d t o e,
ten
i en c
we
d
ore
n au ningful
he m ents a mea
“t
stud these
o
our
ore
m t
see
e m
th
nts"
uros
e
e Co
mom ”
"
n
eorg
e
G
app
h

5

COMMUNITY

COMMUNICATION
6

Scholarship

Integrity

Respect

COMMUNICATION

TRUST

Courtesy

6

COMMUNITY

Self-Discipline

21st Century Goals in Alberta
Engaged
Entrepreneurial

Ethical

7

Engaged
Entrepreneurial

Ethical

http://globeclassroom.ca/userﬁles/Alberta_Framework.pdf
7

Engaged
Entrepreneurial

Ethical

http://globeclassroom.ca/userﬁles/Alberta_Framework.pdf
http://cuebc.ca/cue/conference_documents/dell/AlbertaEducationBYODGuide.pdf
7

Goals for Student Blogging

ENGAGEMENT:

students begin to see themselves as WRITERS where audience and purpose matters
students feature their voice, identity, and values
students love reading each other’s work and they love feedback
To provide parent and staff access to participate and celebrate in the students’ learning and
ideas
To provide students with access to exemplars of student writing – “the best resource to improve
student writing” (Graham Foster)

ETHICAL
To build a safe “virtual” classroom space where language is academic in purpose
To teach safe Digital Citizenship
To build Character through scholarly and respectful language

ENTREPRENEURIAL
To inspire students to take ownership of their digital footprint by writing and creating blogs
Empowers students to achieve goals through hard work, perseverance and discipline - takes the opportunities

to practice writing through writing blog posts on schedule and extra by choice.

8

• ELA 30-1 - Grade 12 Academic

10


Latest
Posts

10

Writers
Tags

Links

A Sample Blog - Grade 10

11

MY
LITTLE
BOY
by
Rizan

He
was
elated
one
afternoon,
a
gentle
smile
caressing
his
petite
face.
He
handed
me
a
report
card,
so
animated
with
A’s
and
B’s
it

seemed
to
have
an
aura.
I
wasn’t
reluctant
in
giving
him
an
encouraging
gesture,
a
“high-‐Bive”
to
show
my
content.
A
pride
enveloped

me,
a
revelation,
a
possibility
that
this
insufferable,
indomitable
cloud
following
my
boy
would
soon
disappear
into
the
promise
ahead.

He
ran
upstairs
and
I
began
to
cook
our
dinner.
It
wasn’t
long
before
I
hastily
organized
our
kitchen
table
with
poorly
prepared

porcelain
plates
and
plastic
placemats.
The
cutlery
and
cups
were
put
to
ease
from
my
tight
grasp
soon
after
the
searing
of
my
skin

forced
me
to
drop
the
serving
dish
onto
the
table
vigorously.
I
called
my
son
from
the
kitchen,
trying
to
notify
him
that
supper
was

ready;
no
response.
My
daughter’s
silhouette
came
into
perspective
and
I
addressed
her,
instructing
her
to
call
her
brother.
She
ran

upstairs,
her
hands
colliding
with
the
steps
proceeding
her
feet
in
childish
fashion.
My
fragile
daughter
prolonged
the
wait.
She

restrained
from
responding;
her
words
climbed
up
her
throat
and
clung
to
the
sides
of
her
esophagus
so
she
couldn’t
speak.
I
stormed

the
stairs
of
my
apartment
reaching
the
second
Bloor
and
tracing
the
steps
of
my
10-‐year-‐old
daughter;
I
was
appalled.
My
timid
little
boy,
a
victim
of
ignorance.
The
martyr
of
malice
corroded
his
spirit
and
ushered
him
into
sinister
solitude.
Enveloped
in

oppression,
my
son
would
come
crying.
With
his
head
to
my
chest,
I
felt
the
tears
dampen
my
sweater.
He
was
scared;
he
struggled
to

keep
his
peace.
He
was
the
scapegoat
of
slurs,
which
cut
deeper
than
the
blade
and
the
threats
punctured
his
self-‐esteem
leaving
him

amidst
paranoia.
It
wasn’t
inconspicuous
and
I
should’ve
known.
That
day
he
woke
up
without
an
appetite,
rather
fear
in
his
belly;

however,
my
little
boy
packed
his
things
and
strolled
to
school
on
April
16
of
2009.
There
had
been
several
instances
where
I
had
to

confront
the
administration,
their
lack
of
attentiveness
was
my
concern.
I
tried-‐
oh
so
dearly-‐
but
it
wasn’t
sufBicient.

My
apartment
door
has
become
a
shrine
and
my
heart
hosts
guilt’s
assault.
What
was
he
to
do?
He
was
lost
and
couldn’t
Bind
himself,

however,
I
did.
Hanging
from
the
ceiling
amidst
his
room’s
closet,
my
son
succumbed
to
the
pressure
of
the
world
as
well
as
the

strangle
of
his
belt.
Should
he?
At
the
tender
age
of
11,
my
little
boy
Jaheem
Herrara
took
his
life
because
he
was
bullied.
INSPIRATION - http://www.cnn.com/2009/US/04/23/bullying.suicide/

11

MY
LITTLE
BOY
by
Rizan

Sam
says:
Words

He
was
elated
one
afternoon,
a
gentle
smile
caressing
his
petite
face.
He
handed
me
a
report
card,
so
animated
with
A’s
and
B’s
it

can’t
describe

seemed
to
have
an
aura.
I
wasn’t
reluctant
in
giving
him
an
encouraging
gesture,
a
“high-‐Bive”
to
show
my
content.
A
pride
enveloped

this
piece;
the

me,
a
revelation,
a
possibility
that
this
insufferable,
indomitable
cloud
following
my
boy
would
soon
disappear
into
the
promise
ahead.

despicable
truth

He
ran
upstairs
and
I
began
to
cook
our
dinner.
It
wasn’t
long
before
I
hastily
organized
our
kitchen
table
with
poorly
prepared

of
bullying
was

porcelain
plates
and
plastic
placemats.
The
cutlery
and
cups
were
put
to
ease
from
my
tight
grasp
soon
after
the
searing
of
my
skin

truly
displayed.

forced
me
tAmazing! serving
dish
onto
the
table
vigorously.
I
called
my
son
from
the
kitchen,
trying
to
notify
him
that
supper
was

o
drop
the

ready;
no
response.
My
daughter’s
silhouette
came
into
perspective
and
I
addressed
her,
instructing
her
to
call
her
brother.
She
ran

upstairs,
her
hands
colliding
with
the
steps
proceeding
her
feet
in
childish
fashion.
My
fragile
daughter
prolonged
the
wait.
She

restrained
from
responding;
her
words
climbed
up
her
throat
and
clung
to
the
sides
of
her
esophagus
so
she
couldn’t
speak.
I
stormed

the
stairs
of
my
apartment
reaching
the
second
Bloor
and
tracing
the
steps
of
my
10-‐year-‐old
daughter;
I
was
appalled.
My
timid
little
boy,
a
victim
of
ignorance.
The
martyr
of
malice
corroded
his
spirit
and
ushered
him
into
sinister
solitude.
Enveloped
in

oppression,
my
son
would
come
crying.
With
his
head
to
my
chest,
I
felt
the
tears
dampen
my
sweater.
He
was
scared;
he
struggled
to

keep
his
peace.
He
was
the
scapegoat
of
slurs,
which
cut
deeper
than
the
blade
and
the
threats
punctured
his
self-‐esteem
leaving
him

amidst
paranoia.
It
wasn’t
inconspicuous
and
I
should’ve
known.
That
day
he
woke
up
without
an
appetite,
rather
fear
in
his
belly;

however,
my
little
boy
packed
his
things
and
strolled
to
school
on
April
16
of
2009.
There
had
been
several
instances
where
I
had
to

confront
the
administration,
their
lack
of
attentiveness
was
my
concern.
I
tried-‐
oh
so
dearly-‐
but
it
wasn’t
sufBicient.

My
apartment
door
has
become
a
shrine
and
my
heart
hosts
guilt’s
assault.
What
was
he
to
do?
He
was
lost
and
couldn’t
Bind
himself,

however,
I
did.
Hanging
from
the
ceiling
amidst
his
room’s
closet,
my
son
succumbed
to
the
pressure
of
the
world
as
well
as
the

strangle
of
his
belt.
Should
he?
At
the
tender
age
of
11,
my
little
boy
Jaheem
Herrara
took
his
life
because
he
was
bullied.

11

MY
LITTLE
BOY
by
Rizan

Sam
says:
Words

He
was
elated
one
afternoon,
a
gentle
smile
caressing
his
petite
face.
He
handed
me
a
report
card,
so
animated
with
A’s
and
B’s
it

can’t
describe

seemed
to
have
an
aura.
I
wasn’t
reluctant
in
giving
him
an
encouraging
gesture,
a
“high-‐Bive”
to
show
my
content.
A
pride
enveloped

this
piece;
the

me,
a
revelation,
a
possibility
that
this
insufferable,
indomitable
cloud
following
my
boy
would
soon
disappear
into
the
promise
ahead.

despicable
truth

He
ran
upstairs
and
I
began
to
cook
our
dinner.
It
wasn’t
long
before
I
hastily
organized
our
kitchen
table
with
poorly
prepared

of
bullying
was

porcelain
plates
and
plastic
placemats.
The
cutlery
and
cups
were
put
to
ease
from
my
tight
grasp
soon
after
the
searing
of
my
skin

truly
displayed.

forced
me
tAmazing! serving
dish
onto
the
table
vigorously.
I
called
my
son
from
the
kitchen,
trying
to
notify
him
that
supper
was

o
drop
the

ready;
no
response.
My
daughter’s
silhouette
came
into
perspective
and
I
addressed
her,
instructing
her
to
call
her
brother.
She
ran

upstairs,
her
hands
colliding
with
the
steps
proceeding
her
feet
in
childish
fashion.
My
fragile
daughter
prolonged
the
wait.
She

restrained
from
responding;
her
words
climbed
up
her
throat
and
clung
to
the
sides
of
her
esophagus
so
she
couldn’t
speak.
I
stormed

the
stairs
of
my
apartment
reaching
the
second
Bloor
and
tracing
the
steps
of
my
10-‐year-‐old
daughter;
I
was
appalled.
My
timid
little
boy,
a
victim
of
ignorance.
The
martyr
of
malice
corroded
his
spirit
and
ushered
him
into
sinister
solitude.
Enveloped
in

oppression,
my
son
would
come
crying.
With
his
head
to
my
chest,
I
felt
the
tears
dampen
my
sweater.
He
was
scared;
he
struggled
to

keep
his
peace.
He
was
the
scapegoat
of
slurs,
which
cut
deeper
than
the
blade
and
the
threats
punctured
his
self-‐esteem
leaving
him

amidst
paranoia.
It
wasn’t
inconspicuous
and
I
should’ve
known.
That
day
he
woke
up
without
an
appetite,
rather
fear
in
his
belly;

however,
my
little
boy
packed
his
things
and
strolled
to
school
on
April
16
of
2009.
There
had
been
several
instances
where
I
had
to

confront
the
administration,
their
lack
of
attentiveness
was
my
concern.
I
tried-‐
oh
so
dearly-‐
but
it
wasn’t
sufBicient.

Melissa says: Wow!
My
apartment
door
has
become
a
shrine
and
my
heart
hosts
guilt’s
assault.
What
was
he
to
do?
This wasost
and
couldn’t
Bind
himself,

He
was
l really deep
however,
I
did.
Hanging
from
the
ceiling
amidst
his
room’s
closet,
my
son
succumbed
to
the
pressure
of
the
world
as
well
as
the

and amazingly well
strangle
of
his
belt.
Should
he?
At
the
tender
age
of
11,
my
little
boy
Jaheem
Herrara
took
his
life
because
he
was
bullied.
written!! It was so
believable and you
had me from the
title! Truly amazing
and I love your
description! It felt
like I was in the
same room…
11

MY
LITTLE
BOY
by
Rizan

Sam
says:
Words

He
was
elated
one
afternoon,
a
gentle
smile
caressing
his
petite
face.
He
handed
me
a
report
card,
so
animated
with
A’s
and
B’s
it

can’t
describe

seemed
to
have
an
aura.
I
wasn’t
reluctant
in
giving
him
an
encouraging
gesture,
a
“high-‐Bive”
to
show
my
content.
A
pride
enveloped

this
piece;
the

Takaiden says: Rizan, Every time I
me,
a
revelation,
a
possibility
that
this
insufferable,
indomitable
cloud
following
my
boy
would
soon
disappear
into
the
promise
ahead.

despicable
truth

read one of your pieces
He
ran
upstairs
and
I
began
to
cook
our
dinner.
It
wasn’t
long
before
I
I feel organized
our
kitchen
table
with
poorly
prepared

hastily

of
bullying
was

something. Amazement, fear, pain,
porcelain
plates
and
plastic
placemats.
The
cutlery
and
cups
were
put
to
I ase
fI
e
rom
my
tight
grasp
soon
after
the
searing
of
my
skin

truly
displayed.

excitement, and also envy; wish
forced
me
tAmazing! serving
dish
onto
the
table
vigorously.
such a vividy
son
from
the
kitchen,
trying
to
notify
him
that
supper
was

o
drop
the

could create I
called
m and explicit
ready;
no
response.
My
daughter’s
silhouette
came
into
perspective
You have this
picture when I write. and
I
addressed
her,
instructing
her
to
call
her
brother.
She
ran

upstairs,
her
hands
colliding
with
the
steps
proceeding
hin your pieces that make it so My
fragile
daughter
prolonged
the
wait.
She

quality er
feet
in
childish
fashion.

restrained
from
responding;
her
words
climbed
up
her
throat
and
clung
to
the
sides
of
her
esophagus
so
she
couldn’t
speak.
I
stormed

disgustingly beautiful, by that I mean
you can tracing
he
steps
of
and
the
stairs
of
my
apartment
reaching
the
second
Bloor
and
take suchtan awful topicmy
10-‐year-‐old
daughter;
I
was
appalled.
make it beautiful in an artistic sense. I

My
timid
little
boy,
a
victim
of
ignorance.
The
martyr
oyouralice
cthesaurus wordspirit
and
ushered
him
into
sinister
solitude.
Enveloped
in

love f
m use of orroded
his
s
oppression,
my
son
would
come
crying.
With
his
hbecause my
chest,
I
writers, neglect dampen
my
sweater.
He
was
scared;
he
struggled
to

ead
to
when we, as felt
the
tears

keep
his
peace.
He
was
the
scapegoat
of
slurs,
which
cut
deeper
than
tyou blade
and
the
threats
punctured
his
self-‐esteem
leaving
him

to use words that make he
think it
makes our pieces That
day
he
but
amidst
paranoia.
It
wasn’t
inconspicuous
and
I
should’ve
known.
feel unfulﬁlled, woke
up
without
an
appetite,
rather
fear
in
his
belly;

you’ve managed to capture my
however,
my
little
boy
packed
his
things
and
strolled
to
school
on
April
16
of
2009.
There
had
been
several
instances
where
I
had
to

attention with every sentence. Great
confront
the
administration,
their
lack
of
attentiveness
was
my
concern.
I
tried-‐
oh
so
dearly-‐
but
it
wasn’t
sufBicient.

Melissa says: Wow!
work Rizan I look forward to reading
My
apartment
door
has
become
a
shrine
and
my
hmore hosts
guilt’s
assault.
What
was
he
to
do?
This wasost
and
couldn’t
Bind
himself,

eart
of your writing.
He
was
l really deep
however,
I
did.
Hanging
from
the
ceiling
amidst
his
room’s
closet,
my
son
succumbed
to
the
pressure
of
the
world
as
well
as
the

and amazingly well
strangle
of
his
belt.
Should
he?
At
the
tender
age
of
11,
my
little
boy
Jaheem
Herrara
took
his
life
because
he
was
bullied.

11

written!! It was so
believable and you
had me from the
and I love your
like I was in the
same room…

MY
LITTLE
BOY
by
Rizan

Sara says: Rizan,
Sam
says:
Words

oh my gosh, this
He
was
elated
one
afternoon,
a
gentle
smile
caressing
his
petite
face.
He
handed
me
a
report
card,
so
animated
with
A’s
and
B’s
it

is so sad but an
can’t
describe

seemed
to
have
an
aura.
I
wasn’t
reluctant
in
giving
him
an
encouraging
gesture,
a
“high-‐Bive”
to
show
my
content.
A
pride
enveloped

amazing piece. I
this
piece;
the

Takaiden says: Rizan, Every time I my
boy
would
soon
disappear
into
the
promise
ahead.

me,
a
revelation,
a
possibility
that
this
insufferable,
indomitable
cloud
following

felt as if I was
despicable
truth

read one of your pieces I feel
He
ran
upstairs
and
I
began
to
cook
our
dinner.
It
wasn’t
long
before
I
hastily
organized
our
kitchen
table
actuallyoorly
prepared

with
p in the
of
bullying
was

porcelain
plates
and
plastic
placemats.
The
cutlery
and
cups
were
put
to
I ase
fI
e
rom
my
tight
grasp
soon
after
the
searing
of
my
skin

story and feeling
truly
displayed.

all emotions the
forced
me
tAmazing! serving
dish
onto
the
table
vigorously.
such a vividy
son
from
the
kitchen,
trying
to
notify
him
that
supper
was

o
drop
the

could create I
called
m and explicit
ready;
no
response.
My
daughter’s
silhouette
came
into
perspective
You have this
o
call
h was and
I
addressed
her,
instructing
her
tnarratorer
brother.
She
ran

seeing everything
upstairs,
her
hands
colliding
with
the
steps
proceeding
fragile
daughter
prolonged
the
wait.
She

quality er
feet
in
childish
fashion.

through their
restrained
from
responding;
her
words
climbed
up
her
throat
and
clung
to
the
sides
of
her
esophagus
so
she
couldn’t
speak.
I
stormed

eyes. ppalled.
you can tracing
he
steps
of
and
the
stairs
of
my
apartment
reaching
the
second
Bloor
and
10-‐year-‐old
daughter;
I
was
aYou did an
excellent job!!

My
timid
little
boy,
a
victim
of
ignorance.
The
martyr
oyouralice
and
ushered
him
into
sinister
solitude.
Enveloped
in

love f
m use of orroded
his
s
oppression,
my
son
would
come
crying.
With
his
hbecause my
chest,
I
my
sweater.
He
was
scared;
he
struggled
to

ead
to
when we, as felt
the
tears

keep
his
peace.
He
was
the
scapegoat
of
slurs,
which
cut
deeper
than
tyou blade
and
the
threats
punctured
his
self-‐esteem
leaving
him

think it
day
he
but
amidst
paranoia.
It
wasn’t
inconspicuous
and
I
should’ve
known.
up
without
an
appetite,
rather
fear
in
his
belly;

however,
my
little
boy
packed
his
things
and
strolled
to
school
on
April
16
of
2009.
There
had
been
several
instances
where
I
had
to

confront
the
administration,
their
lack
of
attentiveness
was
my
concern.
I
tried-‐
oh
so
dearly-‐
but
it
wasn’t
sufBicient.

Melissa says: Wow!
My
apartment
door
has
become
a
shrine
and
my
hmore hosts
guilt’s
assault.
What
was
he
to
do?
This wasost
and
couldn’t
Bind
himself,

eart
of your writing.
He
was
l really deep
however,
I
did.
Hanging
from
the
ceiling
amidst
his
room’s
closet,
my
son
succumbed
to
the
pressure
of
the
world
as
well
as
the

and amazingly well
strangle
of
his
belt.
Should
he?
At
the
tender
age
of
11,
my
little
boy
Jaheem
Herrara
took
his
life
because
he
was
bullied.

11

written!! It was so
believable and you
had me from the
and I love your
like I was in the
same room…

MY
LITTLE
BOY
by
Rizan

Sara says: Rizan,
Sam
says:
Words

oh my gosh, this
He
was
elated
one
afternoon,
a
gentle
smile
caressing
his
petite
face.
He
handed
me
a
report
card,
so
animated
with
A’s
and
B’s
it

is so sad but an
can’t
describe

seemed
to
have
an
aura.
I
wasn’t
reluctant
in
giving
him
an
encouraging
gesture,
a
“high-‐Bive”
to
show
my
content.
A
pride
enveloped

amazing piece. I
this
piece;
the

Takaiden says: Rizan, Every time I my
boy
would
soon
disappear
into
the
promise
ahead.

me,
a
revelation,
a
possibility
that
this
insufferable,
indomitable
cloud
following

felt as if I was
despicable
truth

read one of your pieces I feel
He
ran
upstairs
and
I
began
to
cook
our
dinner.
It
wasn’t
long
before
I
hastily
organized
our
kitchen
table
actuallyoorly
prepared

with
p in the
of
bullying
was

porcelain
plates
and
plastic
placemats.
The
cutlery
and
cups
were
put
to
I ase
fI
e
rom
my
tight
grasp
soon
after
the
searing
of
my
skin

story and feeling
truly
displayed.

all emotions the
forced
me
tAmazing! serving
dish
onto
the
table
vigorously.
such a vividy
son
from
the
kitchen,
trying
to
notify
him
that
supper
was

o
drop
the

could create I
called
m and explicit
ready;
no
response.
My
daughter’s
silhouette
came
into
perspective
You have this
o
call
h was and
I
addressed
her,
instructing
her
tnarratorer
brother.
She
ran

seeing everything
upstairs,
her
hands
colliding
with
the
steps
proceeding
fragile
daughter
prolonged
the
wait.
She

quality er
feet
in
childish
fashion.

through their
restrained
from
responding;
her
words
climbed
up
her
throat
and
clung
to
the
sides
of
her
esophagus
so
she
couldn’t
speak.
I
stormed

eyes. ppalled.
you can tracing
he
steps
of
and
the
stairs
of
my
apartment
reaching
the
second
Bloor
and
10-‐year-‐old
daughter;
I
was
aYou did an
excellent job!!

My
timid
little
boy,
a
victim
of
ignorance.
The
martyr
oyouralice
and
ushered
him
into
sinister
solitude.
Enveloped
in

love f
m use of orroded
his
s
oppression,
my
son
would
come
crying.
With
his
hbecause my
chest,
I
my
sweater.
He
was
scared;
he
struggled
to

ead
to
when we, as felt
the
tears

keep
his
peace.
He
was
the
scapegoat
of
slurs,
which
cut
deeper
than
tyou blade
and
the
threats
punctured
his
self-‐esteem
leaving
him

think it
day
he
but
amidst
paranoia.
It
wasn’t
inconspicuous
and
I
should’ve
known.
up
without
an
appetite,
rather
fear
in
his
belly;

however,
my
little
boy
packed
his
things
and
strolled
to
school
on
April
16
of
2009.
There
had
been
several
instances
where
I
had
to

confront
the
administration,
their
lack
of
attentiveness
was
my
concern.
I
tried-‐
oh
so
dearly-‐
but
it
wasn’t
sufBicient.

Melissa says: Wow!
Jessica
says:
By
the
end
of
this,
my
jaw

My
apartment
door
has
y
eyes
were
fhrine
and
my
hmore hosts
guilt’s
assault.
What
was
he
to
do?
This wasost
and
couldn’t
Bind
himself,

He
was
l really deep
dropped
and
m become
a
s ull
of
tears.
I
eart
of your writing.
however,
can’t
eHanging
from
the
ceiling
amidst
s.
is
room’s
closet,
my
son
succumbed
to
the
pressure
of
the
world
as
well
as
the

I
did.
xplain
how
outstanding
this
piece
i h
and amazingly well
strangle
oI
have
never
felt
this
e?
At
to
someone’s
ge
of
11,
my
little
boy
Jaheem
Herrara
took
his
life
because
he
was
bullied.
f
his
belt.
Should
h close
the
tender
a
written!! It was so
writing
before,
wow.
You
did
a
marvelous

believable and you
job
of
making
us
aware
of
how
much

had me from the
bullying
can
affect
someone.
Your

vocabulary
made
your
work
even
more

worth
of
praising.
Keep
up
the
amazing

and I love your
job;
your
writing
inspires
me!
11

like I was in the
same room…

The Growth of Sam as a Writer

12

in Grade 10

http://hunniblog10.edublogs.org/2011/09/19/music-is-more-than-words-with-a-tune/
12


13

... in Grade 11

http://hunniblog20.edublogs.org/2012/11/11/ﬁnally-free/
13

The Growth
of Sam as a
Writer

14

The Growth
of Sam as a
Writer
in Grade 12

14

http://hunniblog30.edublogs.org/2013/10/20/
untold-love/

• Hunni’s Writers - Creative Writing Class

15

• Hunni’s Writers - Creative Writing Class

Students’
Blogs

15

CREATIVE WRITING CLASS

16

STUDENT FEEDBACK

17

STUDENT FEEDBACK
“Blogging
has not only helped
to improve my writing
through practice, but
also by allowing and
encouraging me to try
new styles of
writing.” Andrew

17

STUDENT FEEDBACK
“Blogging
has not only helped
new styles of
writing.” Andrew

“It works as inspiration, and
also as a timeline so you can go
back and read some of your
previous work, and see where
you've improved.”
Kiran

17

STUDENT FEEDBACK
“Blogging
has not only helped
new styles of
writing.” Andrew

“For one thing blogging
reminds me that I always have an
audience. It gives me the incentive to make
sure my work is polished and get feedback from
other people. Normally the things I write get
stuffed a drawer or journal, but now I have
the opportunity to share.”
Ore

you've improved.”
Kiran

17

STUDENT FEEDBACK
“Blogging
has not only helped
new styles of
writing.” Andrew

Ore

you've improved.”
Kiran

“Blogging has helped me
really put thought and clarity into
my work so it is something I can portray to
my peers as clearly as I can. Hearing people's
feedback not only allows me to consider
elements in the piece being critiqued, but
elements I can work on for the next
blog.” Namitha

17

STUDENT FEEDBACK
“Blogging
has not only helped
new styles of
writing.” Andrew

Ore

you've improved.”
Kiran

polish them to my
hearts content and I
think they are very
useful.” Shawn

blog.” Namitha

17

“I can

STUDENT FEEDBACK
“Blogging
has not only helped
new styles of
writing.” Andrew

Ore

“Writing this blog
has been quite
cathartic.”
Nima

you've improved.”
Kiran

polish them to my
think they are very
useful.” Shawn

blog.” Namitha

17

“I can

STUDENT FEEDBACK
“Blogging
has not only helped
new styles of
writing.” Andrew

Ore

has been quite
cathartic.”
Nima

“Blogging helps students
learn more about each other. It gives us
an opportunity to actually look into some

you've improved.”
Kiran

of our classmates' beautiful souls.”

Jessica

polish them to my
think they are very
useful.” Shawn

blog.” Namitha

17

“I can

STUDENT FEEDBACK
“Blogging
has not only helped
new styles of
writing.” Andrew

Ore

has been quite
cathartic.”
Nima


you've improved.”
Kiran


Jessica

blog.” Namitha

“...our peers can
comment on the
published blogs, and help
give us encouragement,
words of wisdom, and
areas to improve.”
Jessica

17

“I can
polish them to my
think they are very
useful.” Shawn

STUDENT FEEDBACK
“Blogging
has not only helped
new styles of
writing.” Andrew

Ore

has been quite
cathartic.”
Nima


you've improved.”
Kiran


Jessica

blog.” Namitha

“Blogging has
changed my writing
identity. I know that I
have improved during
the years.”
Abhi

17

“...our peers can
comment on the
published blogs, and help
give us encouragement,
words of wisdom, and
areas to improve.”
Jessica

“I can
polish them to my
think they are very
useful.” Shawn

ETIQUETTE and EXPECTATIONS for
COMMENTING

18

ETIQUETTE and EXPECTATIONS for
COMMENTING
Dear ______________________,   (Format = friendly letter form )

POSITIVE

A)
:
1. Encouragement
2. Praise
3. Reaction – when positive
(be speciﬁc, thoughtful, friendly tone)

B)   CONSTRUCTIVE FEEDBACK:
1.
2.
3.

Suggestions for improvement
Be speciﬁc
Be a helpful and kind tutor

C)   Further the Discussion:
1.
2.
3.
4.

Response to another comment
Enter the conversation about the idea the blogger presented in
their post
Provide added value
Offer links that could help to improve or continue the
conversation

Sincerely, ________________________________

*Etiquette is to ALWAYS respond to any comment that was given to
you on the blog. Try to further the conversation!
CRITERIA for ASSESSMENT:
SPECIFIC   *   THOUGHTFUL   *   GUMPS   *    STRUCTURE     *
FRIENDLY
* GUMPS = Grammar, Usage, Mechanics, Punctuation, and Spelling –
Ensure you Edit to Eliminate Gumps!


18

SAMR MODEL

Dr. Ruben R. Puentedura

19

SAMR MODEL

Dr. Ruben R. Puentedura

• http://www.hippasus.com/rrpweblog/
19


SAMR & Blogging
Substitution

20

SAMR & Blogging
Substitution
Substitution
Notebooks/ paper to Word
Document
Drafting the Blog Post

Students use word
documents - or “draft” feature
of Edublogs - to draft, revise
and edit their writing ideas.

20

SAMR & Blogging
Augmentation

21

SAMR & Blogging
Augmentation
Augmentation
PAGE to the STAGE.
Writing & Peer-Editing of blogs
on Hunni Blogs
Students are “contributors” to the
class blog.
Assigned blog topics and free
choice writing, as well as re-writes.
I “approve” all posts after
assessing.

21

SAMR & Blogging
Modiﬁcation

22

SAMR & Blogging
Modiﬁcation
Modiﬁcation
Critical Acclaim
Revising, Reading & Commenting
Hunni Blogs
Students interact digitally as:
AUDIENCE: reading each
other’s blogs

CRITICS: writing comments
praise & suggestions

FANS: inspiring through
validation, empathy, exemplars
& feedback.

22

SAMR & Blogging
Redeﬁnition

23

SAMR & Blogging
Redefinition
Redefinition
Producers
Creative Writing class
“Creators” of their own blogs
Choose own writing assignments
Editors and audience for blogs
Reflect identity, ideas & interests
Students & I co-administers
Redefinition: Creativity ,
Empowerment, & Engagement
23

What’s Next?

24

What’s Next?
Expats
living &
blogging in
Argentina
Feb-July
2014

24

Thank you!

• Pamela

Hunnisett

• Calgary, Alberta,
Canada

• TWITTER -

@PamelaHunnisett


25

Thank you!

• Pamela

Hunnisett

• Calgary, Alberta,
Canada

• TWITTER -

@PamelaHunnisett


http://
thehunni.wordpress.com/
25

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