The Read Aloud: An Instructional Guide (genre reflection #2)
First,
make sure you pee. If anything else, don’t neglect your bladder. What you think
you can hold at the beginning of a read-aloud could change three...no two
paragraphs in.
After that’s taken care of, make
sure you confer with your MT.
What?
Read? Oh! Yeah. No problem.
Remember those last two words: No problem.
Remember them when you walk—slightly
hungover—to the front of the class, a book in hand that you haven’t even opened
once this semester. Although, don’t worry. They don’t know that. Look at them.
They probably think you worship the works of this author. Whoever it is.
Shakespeare? Turn the book around. Oh, Faulkner. Breathe.
Wipe the sweat from your brow.
Breathe. Consider sobriety. Breathe. Open the book. Breathe. Forget which
chapter you’re on. Breathe. Call on a student.
Hey!
Do you know where we are?
Breathe.
Yeah,
Mr. P, we’re on chapter 11.
Breathe. Thank him
never.
Open the book. Breathe. Flip to the
chapter.
Deep breath.
Begin.
Make
sure you’re loud. I mean, it’s in the strategy’s name: read-aloud. Loud. Nobody
wants to listen to a timid mouse for 45 minutes. If the prospect of reading
aloud frightens you, consider another occupation. I hear being a librarian is
pretty quiet. But yeah, make sure you’re loud. Emphasize that word: CALAMITY!
Louder.
Wow,
not that loud...tone it back. You’re not up for an Oscar. Breathe.
Don’t
worry. Relax. It’s okay if you don’t know how to pronounce that word. Sound it
out, but do it quickly and confidently.
Faaaasssti—
What did I just say?
Are you even listening to me?
Fastidiously.
There. Much better.
If anything, the least you can do is
get the pronunciation somewhat phonetically correct.
Hey,
Mr. P, what does that word mean?
Damn. Lexical challenge. Don’t worry
though. I got just the thing for you to say.
Google
it.
See? Easy. Breathe.
Most
importantly, make sure they’re actually listening to you. I know it’s hard to
keep track of your lineation, but, make sure you use your college wisdom—which
cost you roughly 57,844 dollars—and visually scan. Try to isolate the texters,
the head resters, the—
Hey,
Mr. P, you skipped a line.
What?
You
skipped a line.
Did
I now? Or, could I have been making sure you were all following along? Hmm?
Don’t falter. Hold
his gaze. Breathe. Look to the texters. Squint with scorn, but not so much. You
still want them to like you.
Move along.
Also,
make sure you stop for clarification sometimes. Listen to what your students
have to say.
Listen. Nod. Don’t pass out. Listen.
Nod.
Ask another question. Feel their
jaded, petulant eyes stare into your soul. Let five seconds elapse. Nod.
Continue.
You’re
almost done. You can make it. You only have...don’t think about the page
numbers. Keep going. It’s almost over. Breathe. Ten more words.
Ten.
Make sure you articulate.
Nine.
Don’t stand in one spot.
Eight.
Keep some water nearby.
Seven.
Don’t neglect a sip.
Six.
Pay attention to time.
Five.
Know when to stop.
Four.
Take a sip.
Three.
Finish.
Two.
This.
One.
Read-aloud.
Breathe.
Close
the book. Stagger back to your desk. Take a seat. Watch your MT walk over to
you. Listen.
Hey,
you did such a wonderful job! I was wondering, could you possibly read for the
next couple of classes? I think the students like your voice a lot more than
the audiobook. They just seem to really resonate with you.
Look at her. Smile.
No
problem.
Remember those two words.
Remember
to pee.
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