Teacher resources and professional development across the curriculum

Teacher professional development and classroom resources across the curriculum

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Topic Introduction
Judith Ortiz Cofer Reads...
Write On Your Own
Read Other Responses
Use Assignment In Class

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What Others Have Written on This Topic
First Steps A Shared Path Different Audiences Different Purposes
Usage and Mechanics Providing Feedback on Student Writing Learning from Professional Writers Writing in the 21st Century
Kelly wrote:

My friends had special aunts, but I had a life full of titis. In my world, where Spanish-speaking grandparents gave way to "English-only" speaking grandchildren, titi persisted. An aunt was the sister of your mom or dad, but a titi is the woman in your life who represents you. You are related by blood or by love. They cherish you, pamper you, spoil you, chide you. I have Titi Iva, Titi Virginia, Titi Millie, Titi Rae. All of them earned that title, the title that connects me to my heritage. Later, she revisited this piece. Here's how it looks now.

Charles wrote:

The news. Bomb. A long pass in football. Bombe with an "e.". I think it's a kind of dessert. Bombed. Bourbon Street, too many hurricanes. Bomb. A disaster like the new Ben Affleck movie. Bomb. Someone drives a truck, stops, gets out, walks away. Want to think that I can understand that moment. Bomb. Someone becomes a bomb wrapped in explosives trying to become wrapped in glory, the twisted wreckage and the numbing numbers. This time five of them were children. If you repeat a word often enough, its meaning seems to drain out of it like chewing gum after the first few minutes. But "bomb," I think, echoes forever.
Susie wrote:
Cloud Girl, anchored to the house, to the family, to my duties. Obey, listen, attend were the barbs I heard, but then another voice. "Cloud Girl, Cloud Girl," my godmother calls, and then I'm more than daughter number one, more than Susie, mispronounced "Soosie," more even than Snow Cloud, my Chinese name. Cloud Girl, before school, before work, before earth.
Lori wrote:
I have lived in houses that were not home. It makes me think about what home is. Where is home? When am I at home? I am at home on the beach when I hear the waves hit the shore. I am at home in my classroom when I hear pens scratching paper. I am at home in my garden when I see butterflies weave in and out of the flowers that I planted, my flowers and hear my wind chimes making music in the breeze. I am at home with the people that I love and I am at home alone with just me and my thoughts and my feelings, at home with myself.
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