School’s Out: How to Focus Your Writing With a Summer Writing Group


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As many of us know from teaching writing workshops and incorporating peer revision into the classes we teach, writing is a collaborative and community process. Our students’ writing benefits from the feedback and support their peers provide. Yet for many of us, the demands of teaching and instruction make our own scholarly and creative writing an isolating and solitary process. Further, because many of us who read the PALS blog tend to emphasize teaching and pedagogy, our writing might not always be the priority we would like it to be on a day-to-day basis. A summer writing group may help you and your colleagues address concerns about writing in isolation and how to prioritize your own writing.

The faculty at my institution, Austin College in Sherman, Texas, started a writing group in the summer of 2016. The goal of the group was for each of us to make progress on larger writing projects and to provide support and accountability to gauge that progress. Our group met in the college library every Friday morning at 11am during the summer. We were committed to keeping the meetings to just one hour in length, so everyone could get back to summer writing projects.

Our Writing Group Format

When our group first formed, we found that many of us had had negative writing group experiences as graduate students or early career faculty in which writing was exchanged and workshopped. Some of us found this traditional writing group format to lack focus and reciprocity. We decided to not exchange writing with each other, since none of us were experts in each other’s fields (even those of us in the same disciplines) and the blind peer review process would provide us with feedback for revision at later stages. What we needed from each other was support and accountability in order to make our writing a priority over the summer months.

We used Kelly Ann Rockquemore’s (National Center for Faculty Development and Diversity) excellent advice to develop our meeting format. At every meeting, each group member would have 4-5 minutes to share:

  1. What were my writing goals last week?

  2. What did I accomplish?

  3. If I did not accomplish my goals, why not?

  4. What are my writing goals for next week?

Also following the guidelines of Rockquemore, we agreed that the information disclosed at the group meetings would remain confidential. We had to make ourselves vulnerable to each other, especially if we were experiencing writer’s block or discussing personal aspects of our writing process. That said, we also wanted to make sure the check-ins didn’t become weekly therapy sessions (or time to get caught up on campus gossip). We also decided  that although we valued teaching, we would not discuss it at the writing group. We had other venues on campus to discuss pedagogy, no matter how tempting it was to to talk about how teaching concerns sometimes interfered with our writing.

The group had a designated facilitator who sent weekly reminder emails about the writing group meetings, made sure the meetings started on time, and sometimes stepped in to keep the group meetings focused and make sure everyone had time to share their goals. Each member committed to coming to the group every week, even if they didn’t achieve their writing goals that week.

Writing Group Outcomes

The writing group was a success in terms of writing production and faculty satisfaction. The members of the group valued the writing community that we developed with each other. Because we had to report our progress on a weekly basis, everyone got more writing done over the summer than they would have otherwise–even if we didn’t accomplish as much as we had hoped.

Some group members organized “sit and write” sessions in the library before or after the writing  group met. The success of the “sit and write” sessions has grown to more structured faculty writing retreats co-hosted by our Writing Center and Faculty Development Center at the beginning and end of the summer. A few group members who found their research had much in common exchanged work on their own, outside the group.

Everyone in the writing group said it added to their sense of belonging on campus and they loved hearing about their colleagues’ research. Our group consisted of faculty from a wide range of disciplines and career stages. As a teaching-focused institution, Austin College requires scholarly activity but not major publication before tenure, so pre-tenure faculty did not feel intimidated sharing writing updates with senior colleagues. In fact, many junior faculty reported feeling empowered and affirmed by hearing the struggles of seasoned and well-published scholars in the group.

The second summer after our writing group formed, more faculty joined and we had two groups that met every week. We found that 6-8 is the ideal size for a writing group, and that 10 is too many. Fewer than 3-4 may be too small. In terms of output, we have collectively produced two book manuscripts, several articles and book chapters, numerous book reviews, and many conference papers. Some members of the summer writing group continued to meet on Friday afternoons during the school year.

Application and Reflection

Our faculty writing group benefited from the resources and support provided by our Faculty Development Center, which provided organizational support and a budget for lunches and snacks. Your department or campus’s Faculty Development Center may already have such a group for graduate students or pre-tenure faculty. If not, you could ask about starting a writing group. If you are an independent scholar or don’t have institutional support systems (or would like to work outside them), you might consider organizing a group that can meet at a local library or coffee shop.

We found that consistency and a set format made our faculty writing group successful,  productive, and enjoyable for all involved. Happy summer writing!

  1. What types of experiences have you had with writing groups in the past?
  2. Where do you find your writing community and support?
  3. What other strategies from your classroom can you apply to your own writing practice?
  4. What are other ways to make writing a priority on a daily and weekly basis while still remaining committed to teaching, students, and the classroom?



Dear College Professor: On Your Incoming Students

PALS is thrilled to have a guest post by Clay Zuba, a teacher at Xavier College Preparatory High School in Phoenix, Arizona. Zuba writes about his prior experience in the college-level classroom and asks higher education professionals to consider how to best serve the level and teaching needs of incoming students. Zuba makes the point that we need to understand how students develop as learners in order to best meet their needs. For more from Zuba, you can find his nonfiction and fiction writing about House of the Seven Gables here

via Ed Lim Photo

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a preponderance of professors, have at least once or twice recently said to themselves, “students today . . .”

Fill in these ellipses with your most common complaint about students entering your classrooms. You may find that they cannot read critically or write clearly. Perhaps they don’t know how to pose thoughtful questions or conduct research. Or know the first thing about symbolism, or the American Revolution.

I’m a high school English teacher. I’m writing to you regarding our students, their preparation for college, and how you can best build on this preparation in your classrooms. I freely admit that I am still learning to teach my own students. And I wouldn’t presume to tell you what to do. But in my younger days, almost every faculty member with whom I spoke at least once said, “students today . . .”

Including myself. Since beginning as a high school English teacher about a year ago, I’ve learned a lot about these students. It surprised me. I wanted to share. Maybe we can work together.

via Geoff Livingston

Who I was, and who I came to be

I was one of you once. In January 2016 I earned my Ph.D. in American Literature, with a specialization in antebellum print culture. I published. I held a number of research fellowships. Between the time I started a Master’s Degree in 2010 and I moved on from the academic job market in 2017, I taught undergraduates at six universities on the east coast, in Texas, and the southwest. I had on-campus interviews, no offers. That is the way it is for many of us right now.

I began teaching at a college preparatory high school this past fall. I teach English to juniors and sophomores at what is considered an elite high school. One hundred percent the students with whom I work will attend a four-year college. This year they have been accepted to places such as Duke, and Stanford, and Airforce Academy. But many will attend in-state land-grant universities or smaller, out-of-state niche schools private and public. My students are very likely representative of those that will enter your classrooms as freshmen.

Even though I am very good at research, I admit that I love to teach young people in writing and literature. And I believe in the mission to prepare my students for university-level study. Much like you, as a university instructor, I often found my students insufficiently prepared to undertake their course of study in higher education. A few of them had a strong foundation in writing and literature. But many of them had trouble paraphrasing a thesis in an article in The Atlantic. Even the ones that could needed to learn to think  more critically. And some of the others (literally) didn’t understand how to analyze figurative language. I admit to thinking some version of “what on earth is going on in high schools”?

What I found out is going on surprised me. It may surprise you, too. We are actually teaching students all of these skills in high schools. We are teaching them to write essays with a clear thesis sentence at the end of the first paragraph. We are teaching them the elements of the gothic as a literary genre. We are teaching them to identify and analyze figurative language. And most students take their education seriously.

However, a number of entangled conundrums await students when it comes time for them to transfer their skills and knowledge from high school to college. I come to my conclusions based on my experience teaching both groups of students, rather than empirical study. I  hope you will find them helpful.

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Four rules for teaching my high school students

  1. Reorient, repeat.

I taught them to write a strong thesis statement and identify symbolism. Even so, you need to repeat and reinforce these skills. You need to reorient the knowledge students already have for their college environment. There are at least three reasons I need to ask you do this.

First, most young students do not transfer skills and knowledge well from one environment or field to another. High school students have difficulty transferring what I teach them about writing to their history class. They have difficulty applying their knowledge of history to help them historicize what they read in my American literature class. The same will be true of your students, but they will be facing an even greater change in environments, undergoing one of the great rites of passage in our society: the transition from high school teenager to college adult.

Second, if you do not demand that students apply their old close reading skills to your new classroom, they will assume that you do not require close reading skills in your classroom. They will assume that these were only for high school. So, model close reading skills as you like to see them. This will give my students confidence as they grow to use these skills in your classroom.

And three, their brains are still growing in their capacity for abstract thought.  For example, my students’ understanding of the types of abstract ideas that symbolism can encompass and how writers attach these ideas to concrete objects, will be different than when they become your students. No doubt you have your own favorite theory of intellectual development, but for reference I’ll link to the ones William Perry first published in 1968.

Believe me, my students and I discussed symbolism in The Scarlet Letter. We spoke about how the concrete symbol of the A acts as a vessel for abstract problems of sin and self-actualization. We identified how the symbolism of the A changes throughout the novel. But I’m going to have to ask you to model this thinking again if you want your students to analyze symbolism again in the college classroom, with college-level thinking.

  1. You need to teach writing – again, constantly.

The critical thinking that your students will do about literature will be deeper and more demanding than in my high school classroom. But as I mentioned above, they do not have the experience reasoning and creating on the level of abstraction necessary for your college classroom. If they do not have expertise in thinking, these students will not have experience writing with about abstract ideas, either.

You must teach writing even if, especially if, you are a tenured professor. If you appreciate the close connection between writing and critical thinking in your own work, you will see how important it is for you to give students feedback on their writing. Because it is feedback on their thinking. And if they know you are an expert on, say, Faulkner, they will value your feedback on writing more than they did the adjunct (still an expert, but an institutionally devalued expert) who taught them to write in their first-year writing course.

  1. Foster intellectual curiosity

As a high school teacher, I hope I’m helping my students build foundations that will enable them to ask worthwhile questions about literature and writing. But because, again, they are still developing, I can’t yet help many of them ask complex, nuanced abstract questions – and most questions worth asking in college are abstract.

They do have intellectual curiosity. But they are not sure yet what is worth asking. They do not know what is debatable and unanswered. And because of this, you are going to have to teach them, at least once in your classroom, to do research. If you use your university’s databases for research, you are going to be the best resource available for using research to answer the types of questions you’d like students to ask in your classroom.

  1. Be more attentive to your students as young people.

When I was teaching college, I didn’t consider it my job to think too deeply about my students inner emotional lives. And neither did any of the professors who served as my research or teaching mentors. But they need us to be attentive to them as young people, sorely.

I see my students 4-5 days a week. It gives me an awareness of how much they look to us as examples to build their spectrum of the moral and intellectual possibilities for adulthood.

It’s true that your students have plenty of other role models in college. But most of them are not good role models. Maybe your students’ parents are not even good role models. So you need to show them you care. Check in if they miss an assignment uncharacteristically. Encourage them when they doubt themselves.

It isn’t too late for you. You can still make a difference.

via Liz West


I could tell you more. But you’ve already given me your attention for long enough. If you’ve read this far, you’ve been kind enough to listen. Yet, if we are really going to work together to help our mutual students, this has to be a two-way partnership. And I want to hear from you.

What can we do, as high school teachers, to help our students prepare for college? What are the gaps between high school and college?

What am I missing in the miasma of grammar, genre, symbolism, figurative language, oral proficiency, vocabulary, historicization, themes, authors, writing structures, research skills, reading skills, et cetera, that I hope to instill as foundations for their college learning experience?

Please write back.  

Contributor Bio:

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Clay Zuba is an English Teacher at Xavier College Preparatory High School in Phoenix, Arizona, where he teaches American Literature and writing. In 2016, he was awarded a Ph.D. in American literature at the University of Delaware. His acclaimed blog about Nathaniel Hawthorne is a precursor to his upcoming historical novel Love in the House of the Seven Gables.