Table of Contents Views and Mechanics Publisher's Note Editor's Note Review of Terrorist Review of God's Gym Review of Cherry Blossoms in Twilight Creative Nonfiction Ain't Is A Word By Marcie Hollowell & Kristen Munch Love Under the Big Top By Andy Martello Revival By Brenda G. Wooley Poetry Letting Go Wish By Antoinette Brim Pam Farwick By G. David Schwartz Confession While Dining By Mary Lou Taylor Homeschooling Adventures By Beth Happel Fiction Ike Experiences Vanity By Sidney Kidd What Keeps Me Alive By Paul Brittain Minor Damage By Jane Hammons How To Cook for Your In-Laws By Ricky Ginsburg About the Contributors © 2006, River Walk Journal and respective authors and artists. All rights reserved. Do not use or reproduce without permission. River Walk Journal, Inc. Board of Directors Chairman - Elizabeth Ross Vice Chairman - Joseph Koch Secretary/Treasurer - Geri Stock-Ross Editorial Director - Patti Kurtz, DA Literacy Director - Bill Mausteller Policy Director - PA State Rep. Jess Stairs Advisory Board Chairman - Patti Kurtz, DA Asst. Chairman - Dan Lachenman, PhD Samuel Hazo Christopher Leland Edwin Yoder Joseph Bathanti Journal Staff Publisher - Elizabeth Ross Editor-In-Chief - Joseph Koch Sen. Fiction Editor - Patti Kurtz Sen. Poetry Editor - Neeldhara Misra Sen. Creative Nonfiction Editor - Brenda Coxe Contributing Editor - Robert Dittman Publicity Director (PA) - Geri Stock-Ross For information about submissions, visit http://www.riverwalkjournal.org/subs.html. Questions about promotions, subscribers' services, and advertising should be sent to publisher@riverwalkjournal.org. River Walk Journal, Inc. is a non-profit corporation run entirely by volunteers. For information about volunteer opportunities and internships, visit VolunteerMatch.

Ain't Is A Word By Marcie Hollowell & Kristen Munch From: "Lookout: A Creative Non Fiction Magazine", 2003 Used with permission. There is tension in Mrs. Swords's classroom. Her second grade students are writing a few sentences about their families or their pets. As Swords circulates in the room, checking their progress, she notices Nathan writing, "I have two dog." Mrs. Swords reads the sentence out loud to Nathan, asking him what is missing. But Nathan is puzzled, even after she reads a corrected version -- I have two dogs-- emphasizing the "s." Nathan is still clueless. "What needs to be added to the end of the sentence?" she asks him. Finally, a flash of recognition. "Oh, I know what I forgot!" he said, "I have two dog and a cat!" Frustrated, she explains that what he forgot was an "s." Discouraged himself, Nathan decides to make Swords happy by adding an "s"—to the end just about everything. Jamal’s problem is even more difficult. His arms are stiffly crossed in front of his chest and the sour look on his face brings out his dimple. It is another normal school day at Newsome Park Elementary, in Newport News, Virginia, and Mrs. Swords has just picked up her second graders after their science lesson. The science teacher, she discovers, had just corrected Jamal: "'Ain’t' isn’t a word." Just thinking about it, Jamal’s innocent brown eyes tear up. Swords asks around to see if any of the other students had heard an exchange involving Jamal and the science teacher. One student jumps at the opportunity and gives her an instant replay. Jamal fills in the gaps. Swords knew the confrontation called for a class meeting. Nearly every morning, the students gather on Mrs. Swords’s ruby red carpet for "morning meetings" and most often they are about things the students are thankful for or upcoming events in their lives that they wanted to share. Swords isn’t too tall, but her heeled boots add to her height this morning. She is slender, and has short, spunky blonde hair, and bright blue eyes that gently that gaze down at her kids. Unfortunately, this morning Swords’s blue eyes are filled with distress as Jamal tells her how the science teacher made him feel stupid. Jamal's & Nathan's stories illustrate how the common ways of teaching language tend to damage children’s self-esteem, as well as confuse them. The correctionist model that most teachers implement in their classrooms has been around for ages. But how effective are those ain’t-isn’t-a-word teaching tactics? Morning meetings on the ruby red carpet. Back on the ruby red carpet sometime later, Swords asks her students how her own repeated correction of their speech makes them feel. The classroom was silent until the first brave speaker said, "It embarrasses me." After that comment, another student says, "It makes me feel like I don’t know what you want me to say." It was horrible to hear: "I thought I was helping them," Swords says. After that class meeting, it became clear to Swords that she needed a new way of teaching formal language. The age-old correctionist model was failing Swords and her students. For as long as Rachel Swords can remember, she has wanted to be a teacher. Her mother still treasures an assignment from kindergarten in which Rachel wrote about her goals of teaching one day. For the last few years, Rachel has been living out her dreams. Like many teachers, Swords empathizes with her students. When she was in school she was very shy and barely spoke in the classroom. She recalls a particularly painful incident in first grade when she was wrongly accused of speaking out of turn. These incidents have impacted the relationships she has with her own students—she tries hard to be fair. Putting herself in their places, Swords can imagine how painful it would be to have her speech constantly corrected. "Everybody speaks informally, I started thinking, because I do say ya’ll a lot, and the kids pick up on that, even when I try not to say it at school and I must, because, when the kids pretend they’re me, when they have free time, they always say, ya’ll come over here now…." She realized that she would not like it if someone constantly told her not to use, ya’ll. Swords began thinking about her informal speech and also her family’s informal speech. "My family and I don’t come from a family of professionals," she said. "My family is mostly loggers, and they speak a very backwoods language. I would be really upset if someone made fun of the way they spoke." Although Swords was living out her life-long dream through teaching and pouring out her heart in her career, for the first few years Swords’s job was filled with continuous obstacles in teaching language. The achievement gaps between white and black students evident in standardized testing were even more alarming than the tedious corrections that Swords pushed on her students. On the 2000 Virginia statewide Standards of Learning tests, the black students in her class performed significantly lower than white students. This not only occurred in Swords’s classroom, but in classrooms across Newport News. African American children were scoring much lower than white children on average; in some schools, the disparities were as much as thirty-six points. Large disparities in standardized testing, along with constant correction and repetition with little progress were the results Swords experienced in the beginning while she used the correctionist model of teaching language. Then Swords completed a class, "The Study of Language," in the master’s degree program at Christopher Newport University, with Linguistics Professor Dr. Rebecca Wheeler. She realized how to do a better teaching language in the classroom. Wheeler introduced Swords to a technique called code-switching. In the beginning, Swords resisted the idea. "I never thought that there were also patterns in informal language," Swords said. "Before [the class] I really was a correctionist," she said. "I thought that if you corrected the kids long enough and reminded them of how they were supposed to talk, they would change—that it was an attitude. Then, when I took Dr.Wheeler’s class, there was just too much evidence" to justify the old correctionist standby. Maybe it was worth giving giving code-switching a try. "I figured that what I was using at the time [the correctionist model] wasn’t working, and that I wouldn’t lose anything by trying [code-switching]," said Swords. With an undergraduate English degree, too, she was naturally intrigued by the detailed patterns, that, with Dr. Wheeler's help, she now found in African American Vernacular. "Ain't ain't a word," Matthew chirped in a sing-song voice. A wide smile of tiny white teeth crosses his face, a smile that seems to be perpetual. It adds a mischievous sparkle to his curious, deep brown eyes. "Actually, ain’t is a word, we use ‘ain’t’," Swords politely replied as she took a seat in a rocking chair facing the twenty antsy second graders squirming on the ruby red carpet at her feet. Although Swords is right to stick up for ain't, it's weird hearing a well-respected elementary school teacher credit ain’t as a word we can actually use. Most would anticipate a correction of the use of ain't with ‘is not.’ Swords is not promoting slang in her classroom. Instead, she is seeking to promote the use of formal English by embracing the validity of informal English, a language variety that has its own patterns and rules, is often used in the home or other relaxed settings, and includes the word ain't. Swords now explains to her class that, when adults correct children, what they really mean is they would like them to use formal language. Formal and informal words. As soon as she tried it, Swords saw improvement with the new model of code-switching. "My students immediately latched onto it," she said. "They understood what I meant when I asked them to speak [formally or informally]." There was one particular instance when Swords saw drastic progress in one of her students. Michael entered her classroom in the beginning of the year with an avid love of writing. His writing ability had suffered because he never quite understood the principles of formal English language. The first day of class, eager Michael presented her with a present, a book he had written for her entitled My Three Friend. After several months of code-switching in Swords’s classroom, Michael again wrote for Mrs. Swords, a story he called "Spy Mouse and the Broken Globe." "He was very excited about the story and read it aloud to me," Swords said. There were several examples of informal language in the story and, after all her teaching, Swords wondered why Michael continued to write informally. "Michael, we've been working on formal and informal language for a while now," said Swords. "I know," he responded. Swords then went on to comment on his use of informal language in the story. "I didn't really say it in a negative or positive way, I just commented to see his reaction." "I know," Michael replied. "I know all about formal language, but Spy Mouse doesn't!" In the story, Michael uses informal language when Spy Mouse is speaking. However, in his "About the Author" page, he uses all formal language. He later wrote a story called "Spy Mouse and Little Spy," in which Spy Mouse finds a sidekick. The story is filled with dialogue between Spy Mouse and Little Spy in which Little Spy uses informal language and Spy Mouse uses formal language. "Spy Mouse and The Broken Globe": title page Although Michael had trouble realizing the differences between formal and informal language through the correctionist model, he had learned very successfully from Mrs. Swords's lessons that applied code-switching techniques. In both "Spy Mouse and the Broken Globe" and "Spy Mouse and Little Spy," Michael’s writing took in account the differences between the two varieties of language. "By the time he left me, he had a very clear understanding of formal and informal English and he used it," Swords said. Not only was she pleased with the increasing use of formal English in her students’ writing, but her students’ were pleased with the effects of code-switching as well. "I think all the kids enjoyed language more [after they were introduced to code-switching]," Swords said. "I think even the kids who did not speak as informally as others enjoyed playing with the language. They realized that language wasn’t strict, that there were rules but that you could do different things to language." As for code-switching in the future, she has high hopes that other teachers and schools will adopt the method. Swords and Linguistics Professor, Dr. Rebecca Wheeler, are currently working on a textbook for teachers to better implement code-switching in the classroom—In their own words: Using students' vernacular to teach Standard English in urban classrooms. Wheeler spent some time observing classrooms in Newport News, Virginia, where she is a linguist and Associate Professor of English at Christopher Newport University and trains future school teachers in undergraduate and graduate courses. Her observations led her to believe that code-switching could help the students. "I found that home speech was considerably present in child writing. Then I did some research into the school performance by kids and discovered the achievement gap…between minority language students and majority language students, who are mainstream speakers. I realized that teachers were treating some of the child language patterns as broken English and as errors, and, as a linguist, I knew that this is a misanalysis of what was going on. "The kids are not making errors in Standard English; instead, they are successfully producing the language of the home, and an appropriate analysis is that we need to add a second language variety to the child's knowledge base." Based upon these recognitions and assessments of the school system, Wheeler realized that she needed to develop course material that would train teachers to be able to understand the nature of language variation and varieties. Wheeler and Swords plan for the book to help education students and teachers understand the nature of language varieties, language variation and to help them develop pedagogy and a specific approach to helping children code-switch. Wheeler says, "That is to be able to choose the language style appropriate to the time, place, audience, and communicative purpose." The book will be, very specifically, a tool for teachers. Wheeler and Swords submitted the book proposal in December 2002, to the Association for Supervision and Curriculum Development, or ASCD. The two are also working on a grant in conjunction with Newport News public schools at Old Dominion University in Norfolk, Virginia. Newsome Park Elementary Principal Peter Bender also sees value in the code-switching pedagogies and has written code-switching into the new school improvement plan. Swords herself will soon be teaching staff development classes on code-switching. "Rachel is going to be doing a work session on code-switching with all the teachers of Newsome Park and she’s going to be sharing her strategies and what she has been able to accomplish," said Bender. "We felt that it is important that all the teachers at Newsome Park understand code-switching and are able to use it in their lessons. There are times when there are gaps between the scores of black and non-black students [in SOL testing], so we want to make sure that we employ every strategy we can to assist all children in being successful." Bender also hopes to have many other of the teachers become involved in similar research and share their findings and ideas. "As [the research] progresses through the years, they will be able to suggest new strategies, alter existing strategies, and come back together and collaborate so that they can come up with the best practices that work for kids." Bender anticipates that the increased emphasis on code-switching in Newsome Park will be well-received by the teachers. "I believe that most teachers [at Newsome Park] understand the concept behind code-switching." Bender does acknowledge that adjusting to the new change of thought may take some getting used to. "If you take it as a child having two languages, formal and informal, it’s easier to accept that but I don’t think it’s been that readily accepted in the past." "[Code-switching] really is fairly easily implemented," said Bender. "It’s just a matter of awareness and trying to shake peoples’ notions that one form of language is wrong and making students aware that were not evaluating their use of informal language, that it’s fine in a variety of settings but in some settings they must use their formal language." Bender’s decision to include Code-Switching into the new school improvement plan is also based on the success of the method thus far. He has already seen positive results in the students’ grades and standardized testing scores. "In third grade last year we saw that are black students exceeded the number of non-black students who made honor roll. We believe that not only the work Rachel has done in her class but also her influence that she’s had on her grade level peers has contributed to that," said Bender. According to Bender, Swords and her colleagues make an extra effort to share new ideas between their classrooms. As for 2001-2002 school year’s SOL’s, Bender reports that Swords’s third grade class did extremely well. Newsome Parks’ entire third grade’s scores were averaged with the scores of the school’s fifth graders and they found that in three of the four subject areas, Newsome Park had passed the benchmark of 70% with flying colors. The students achieved scores of 74%, 79%, and 80% in English, Math, and Science respectively. "There still is a gap [between the scores of black and white children] but the gap has been diminishing in all four areas," said Bender. "It’s really great for us to see because you don’t want one group to stay stagnant while the other group moves up, you want everyone to move up." Along with Bender, Swords has high hopes for the future of code-switching. "I definitely hope that [code-switching] spreads," she said. "I think that it’s a much nicer, gentler way of teaching, rather than attacking language patterns." Swords has had teachers at Newsome Park approach her about it, but the general attitude is that they want to teach it as an incorrect way and a correct way. And that is not at all how she wants it to be taken. This fall, Swords spoke to a committee of teachers from the Newport News Public school system about code-switching. She got mixed reactions. Many teachers questioned whether she was out to teach the students informal language. "I don’t have to teach the students to speak informally; they already know how to speak informally. What they’re having a hard time doing is changing it to formal speech. One of the teachers even asked why I was taking them back?" This teacher thought she was regressing her students to informal language. But Swords is not taking them back at all. She says there is not a correct way or an incorrect way to speak. "Clearly she disagreed with me. You’re not going to convince somebody to believe in something they don’t already believe in, in fifteen minutes." Rachel rocks in her rocking chair in her flowery apartment—almost a mirror image of her in her rocking chair at Newsome Park. She sits, always calm, whether it’s the chaos of Jake and Casey, her and her husband’s yapping miniature pinschers, or the shrieking of her twenty second-graders. And, while she sits, she’s always focused and always in control. While visiting her classroom, it is obvious that her students are her number one priority; never once is her concentration on them derailed. Rachel remembers that devastating meeting with the class the day that Jamal felt so humiliated—Ain't isn't a word, the science teacher had said. After that day, Rachel waited about two weeks before she introduced formal language to the kids. She explained how to use formal speech at a job interview. "We’re talking about eight year olds, so I was afraid they wouldn’t understand the concept. It was actually a child that made a connection with clothing." One of her students, Devin, said that having to use formal language at school was similar to how they could not wear jeans to school because that would be dressing informally. Her students understood the differences involving clothing. It was a little revelation. She now introduces formal language and code-switching by having her students search through magazines cut and paste pictures of formal and informal clothing. In many instances, the students will find examples that Rachel herself had not even thought of, like using pajamas as an example of informal clothing. Like "Spy Mouse" author Michael, her students are often able to teach the teacher a few things. Rachel also uses charts with comparisons of formal and informal language. She says at the end of last year her students were doing writings with one character speaking formally and the other speaking informally. The students had the characters transitioning back and forth. Although they were not even instructed to form those types of characters, most of them just took the initiative. Swords also says that when she reads books the kids often shout out, "Mrs. Swords, that’s informal!" Rachel loves it. "I was like, wow! That they would even pay that much attention to the way the language is used in the story. It was really neat." She doesn’t expect her students to speak formally all the time in her classroom, unless they have had time to prepare. "That’s way too difficult to ask them to think informally, and then ask them to translate it to formal language before they say something." While speaking at school, Rachel and her students decided they would say, "Oh, would you like for me to say that formally?" The kids would then change it to formal language. If they didn’t know how to say it formally, then they would ask. Rachel and, her teacher, Rebecca Wheeler, claim that any teacher can learn to implement code-switching in the classroom, as long as the teacher believes in it. A teacher could learn the basics within a single professional developmental training session. Wheeler believes it works for Rachel because Rachel so carefully acknowledges that the childrens’ language has structure and integrity: she can respect and affirm the children’s language. "The teacher must learn some basic insights—that all language is structured, all language has patterns. These basic insights will allow the teacher to help students switch from one language pattern to another. A teacher does need some basic training," Wheeler said. Still, "Everybody can do this; you don’t have to have a graduate degree in linguistics." Although the most of her students this fall have latched on quickly to the new concept, some notions are hard to shake. "Formal is where you have friends, and informal is where you don't have friends," explained one student from Mrs. Swords's class this year. "Formal is good, informal is bad," another says. These statements reflect many of society's negative views towards African American Vernacular. Popular ways of thinking are difficult to change, but Swords has made leaps and bounds in her attempts to do so. Many of Swords’s students have grasped the complex concept. Take Maxwell, for instance. After he explains everything he knows on the class's recent study of ancient Egypt and the water cycle, Maxwell spontaneously decides to teach a short lesson on the subject of code-switching. As Swords sits on the other side of the room assisting other students, she watches the boy flip through the classroom's large notebook that is used for class lessons. He finds notes from a previous code-switching lesson. Explaining code-switching in a "matter-of-fact" voice with his large glasses, navy blue polo shit, and belted khakis, he looks just like a miniature teacher. "Formal is like May I, Please, and Thank you – the polite way," Maxwell explains. "Informal is like Yo, what’s up?—like when you go to a game or are chopping down wood." "You ain’t no fox: that’s informal," chimes in Samuel, referring to an informal phrase from a book Swords read to the class earlier that month. Another student, Alexandro, uses an example to explain the difference: "Mrs. Swords doesn’t say What’s up’ to [Principal] Mr. Bender; she speaks formally to Mr. Bender." On most Fall mornings at around 9 a.m., Swords sits in her rocking chair with twenty second-graders grinning up at her as they sit on the carpet "pretzel-style" and clutch onto their brightly patterned classroom pillows. "How would you speak at a job interview?" Swords asked the class. Immediately the students call out, "Formally!" She then asks them, "How would you dress at a party?" After a few rumbles most of the students respond with "informal." Hailey, a blonde with big eyes and a smile that lacks a few major teeth, raises her hand, doesn’t wait to be called on and says with great confidence, "Not if it’s a wedding party, you would have to dress formally!" Swords grins and gives a nod of approval. It’s early in the year, but these kids are getting it. *Student names have been changed.