I had a lot of fears moving from the classroom into the role of reading interventionist. I didn’t sleep very well after accepting the position as interventionist because my fears shook me awake in the middle of the night. Would I miss the classroom? Would I still feel part of our school community? Would I be good at this job? Was I even qualified for this job?
One of the biggest sleep-stealers for me was a fear that kids wouldn’t like coming to my classroom anymore. I pride myself on being a well-liked teacher who has great relationships with kids. I suddenly imagined myself darkening a classroom doorway to pick up a group of kids and hearing groans and sighs. I envisioned kids in my small intervention classroom slumped over their books at my reading table, not a smile to be found. Would kids want to come to a reading intervention? How would I engage them like I had in my classroom?
Have Some Fun
First things first, I had to make my room fun. It may sound trite (and also unlikely with my bland “Five Phonetic Skills” posters adorning the walls), but I looked for some fun ways to spruce up the space. I brought in some hand-painted artwork created by my daughters that were sure to be good conversation starters. I took some of my flexible seating options out of the school storage trailer and lugged them into my new space. By the time I was finished, I had a carpet, an old leather armchair from my basement, a bench, and even a high table with tall stools. This place was starting to look more like a fun hangout than an intervention room.
Then, in a flash of brilliance, I took my daughter’s old fairy door and mailbox from my basement. My daughter Katie used to have this tiny door hanging on her bedroom wall, and next to it hung a tiny mailbox. Sometimes, late at night when Katie was sleeping, the fairy would come out of the door for a visit and leave Katie a teeny note in the mailbox. We tried and tried to get a glimpse of the fairy during daytime hours, but unfortunately we never did. She seemed to come only when Katie was asleep (and Mommy was still up).
I hung the long-discarded fairy door in the intervention room, and it did not take long for a student to ask, “What’s that?”
“Oh, that’s the fairy door,” I replied matter-of-factly.
“There’s a fairy behind there?”
“Yep.”
“Wait. There is? Will she come out so we can see her?”
“Maybe,” I said, shrugging. “Probably.”
The fairy door quickly became the talk of the school, especially after the fairy started leaving notes for the students who came in for reading interventions. One time the fairy even left a picture of herself outside her fairy door for us! You can barely see her—she almost looks like a trick of light. I soon became known as “the teacher with the fairy in her room,” and this is a title I bear proudly.
Another thing that makes coming to the intervention room fun is the Mystery Student prize wheel. If the randomly chosen Mystery Student who is revealed at the end of the lesson worked hard and followed our agreed-upon norms, he or she gets to spin Miss Murphy’s Super Secret Prize Wheel. (No one knows why it is called that, because it’s not a secret at all.) You might win a chance to play our favorite game, Count to Ten! Or you might win lunch with Miss Murphy! Or maybe we will all wear your favorite color tomorrow! You just never know what amazing prize you could win on Miss Murphy’s Super Secret Prize Wheel.
Maybe you don’t have a fairy door or a Super Secret Prize Wheel, but use whatever you do have to make your intervention room whimsical and fun.
Set Goals
Now that coming to the intervention room was not a dreaded task but a coveted invitation, I turned my attention to making the hard work of reading fun. Reading interventions can be multifaceted and complex, but I wanted the kids to feel successful.
I spent a lot of time getting to know my students through conversation, through assessment, and through reading. Once I felt like I really knew my students, I helped each student set a small, attainable goal. I shared my notes and assessment data with them, and I taught them about the “pillars of reading”: phonemic awareness, phonics, fluency, vocabulary, and comprehension.
Each student had a personal goal they were working on when we read. Brody was working on self-monitoring, and if you asked Brody, he would explain to you that self-monitoring means paying attention to your reading to make sure it makes sense. Brody might also have explained to you that while he was reading, he was going to stop if something he said didn’t make sense. Ryan’s goal was reading accurately, and he would tell you how the blue highlighter strip he had in his hand was helping him say the words as they were written on the page.
Each student’s goals were displayed behind the small-group table, and when they were successful in meeting their goals, we celebrated. We celebrated a lot.
“Did you hear Brody stop himself when the text didn’t make sense? Woo-hoo!! Everyone high-five Brody right now!”
“Ryan, you just read that whole page 100 percent accurately! Pick a prize from the prize box!”
Actually, it wasn’t long before Brody was consistently self-monitoring his own reading and was ready to move on to a new goal of solving tricky words. “Pomp and Circumstance” played softly in the background as we switched Brody’s goal, and we all received a little treat of Smarties that day . . . you know, because Brody is a smartie.
Nobody sighs and groans when I come to the classroom to gather students for a reading intervention. Quite the opposite, actually. Sometimes a student I haven’t worked with will come up and say, “Is it true you have a fairy in your room?”
“Yep,” I’ll answer.
“Can I come with you?” they’ll ask.
“Not right now, but you can stop by at lunch.” I smile to myself as I walk away.
