Education Blog: Essays and reflections on literacy, rhetoric, and critical inquiry

Culturally Responsive Teaching


The Human Side of Teaching

By Darren Carter, M.Ed. | English & Rhetoric Specialist

My journey into education has been anything but linear.

I began in retail management before stepping away to pursue vocational ministry, eventually completing advanced studies in theology, philosophy, and counseling. In 2022, I earned my M.Ed., which remains one of the most valuable parts of my academic journey. Although I began teaching in 2012, I transitioned fully into education in 2020 and began the process of formal teacher certification this year.

Across experiences in ministry, teaching, coaching, and graduate study, I gained tremendous knowledge about pedagogy, leadership, curriculum design, counseling, and human development.

But there are aspects of teaching that no degree program, certification course, or textbook can fully prepare you for.

Those lessons come through lived experience: building relationships with students, navigating difficult classroom moments, and carrying the emotional weight that often accompanies the profession.

Years working with students have taught me that education is far more than lesson plans, assessment strategies, or classroom management. At its core, teaching is about consistently showing up for young people and helping them grow — often in ways you may not fully appreciate until much later.

To every educator who understands this deeper side of the profession: I see you, and I deeply respect the work you do.


Language, Power, and Society: How Words Shape the World


Streamlining and Improving Teaching and Learning with AI


By Darren Carter, M.Ed. | English & Rhetoric Specialist

One of the persistent challenges in secondary English education is the tendency to treat literature and writing as separate areas of instruction. Students read a novel, discuss its characters and themes, complete comprehension activities, and perhaps write an analytical essay. Later, they begin a writing unit in which they are introduced to narrative techniques, descriptive language, rhetorical devices, or the conventions of a particular genre.
There is nothing inherently wrong with either approach. However, separating them can overlook one of the most valuable resources available to a writing teacher: the literature students are already reading.

When students read like writers, literature becomes more than a subject to analyze. It becomes a collection of deliberate choices they can investigate, evaluate, imitate, adapt, and ultimately incorporate into their own writing.

When students read like writers, literature becomes more than a subject to analyze. It becomes a collection of deliberate choices they can investigate, evaluate, imitate, adapt, and ultimately incorporate into their own writing.

This is the philosophy behind my approach to integrated literature and literacy instruction and the reading-to-writing loop that informs much of my curriculum design.

Moving Beyond What a Text Means

Traditional literary analysis frequently asks students to identify what a writer is communicating. What does a character represent? What is the central conflict? How does a particular image contribute to the theme?
These are important questions, but reading like a writer introduces another dimension: How did the author make this happen?
Rather than simply identifying an atmosphere of tension, students examine how a writer establishes that tension. They investigate sentence structure, sensory imagery, pacing, characterization, contrast, and the deliberate selection or omission of details.

For example, a student reading Ray Bradbury’s All Summer in a Day might recognize the oppressive atmosphere of Venus, the children’s anticipation of sunlight, or the cruelty of their treatment of Margot. Reading like a writer asks the student to investigate how Bradbury’s descriptions, contrasts, and structural decisions create those effects.
The next question is where writing instruction begins: How might I use a similar technique to create a different effect in my own writing?
The student moves from recognizing a technique to understanding its purpose and, eventually, making an independent creative decision.

The Reading-to-Writing Loop

I organize this process around a recurring instructional cycle:

Read → Notice → Analyze → Experiment → Write → Evaluate → Return to Reading

Students first encounter a mentor text as readers. They then revisit selected passages to identify the choices that make the writing effective.
During analysis, the emphasis shifts from naming techniques to explaining their effects. Identifying a metaphor is relatively straightforward. Explaining why that particular metaphor works in its particular context requires considerably more thought.
Students then experiment with the technique through short, manageable writing tasks before applying it in a more substantial composition.
Finally, they evaluate their own writing and that of their peers, returning to the mentor text when necessary to reconsider the choices they made.
The loop matters because students do not simply receive information about writing and then attempt to reproduce it. They repeatedly encounter the relationship between a writer’s intention, the choices made on the page, and the reader’s experience.
Over time, they develop a vocabulary for discussing writing that also becomes a framework for revising their own work.

Mentor Texts Across Different Areas of Writing

Although I use this approach extensively in narrative and descriptive writing, its value extends well beyond creative composition.
In narrative writing, students might examine how an author reveals characterization through dialogue, builds suspense through pacing, or uses setting to imply an emotional state without explicitly naming it.
In descriptive writing, they can investigate the selection and sequencing of sensory details, shifts in focus, sentence rhythm, and the relationship between observation and atmosphere.
Argumentative and discursive writing offer equally valuable opportunities. Students can examine how an effective writer introduces an issue, establishes a position, develops a line of reasoning, acknowledges a serious opposing perspective, and constructs a purposeful conclusion.
For article writing, I ask students to consider the relationship between the headline, opening, central angle, intended reader, and ending. They examine the implicit promise an article makes to its audience and how the writer fulfills that promise.
Speech writing introduces another set of decisions. Students can investigate how speakers establish credibility, anticipate audience reactions, organize ideas for listeners rather than readers, and use repetition or rhetorical questions purposefully rather than decoratively.
Even formal reports benefit from mentor-text analysis. Students can study how professional writers organize information, establish an objective register, integrate evidence, use headings, and distinguish findings from recommendations.
The common principle is that students learn to recognize the decisions that make a particular form of communication effective for its intended audience and purpose.

From Imitation to Independence

Mentor texts are sometimes misunderstood as models students are expected to reproduce. Used poorly, they can encourage formulaic writing: identify a structure, copy it, and substitute new content.
That is not the objective.
I want students to understand why a writer made a particular decision and whether that decision would serve their own communicative purpose.
A student might study Bradbury’s use of imagery without attempting to sound like Bradbury. Another might examine the structure of a persuasive speech but deliberately choose a different opening because their audience requires a different approach.
Imitation can be a useful starting point, particularly for multilingual learners who benefit from explicit models of unfamiliar writing conventions. However, the goal is informed independence.
Students should eventually be able to explain not only what they wrote, but why they wrote it that way.

Integrating Literature and Literacy Across a Unit

This approach also changes the relationship between novel studies and composition units.
Instead of treating a novel as a self-contained literary assignment, I look for opportunities to connect its literary techniques to the writing students are developing.
A study of Lord of the Flies, for example, offers opportunities to examine characterization, symbolism, setting, atmosphere, and the gradual development of conflict. These are not merely literary concepts students need to recognize for an examination. They are resources students can draw upon when constructing their own narratives and descriptions.
Similarly, Fahrenheit 451 offers opportunities to examine imagery, contrast, repetition, and the relationship between stylistic choices and a writer’s intended effect.
Short stories provide particularly useful mentor texts because their concentrated structure allows students to examine specific decisions within a manageable reading experience.
The key is purposeful selection. Not every passage needs to become a writing lesson, and not every literary discussion needs to culminate in composition. The connection should emerge from the learning objective rather than being imposed on the text.

Explicit Instruction and Student Agency

The reading-to-writing loop also provides a way to balance explicit instruction with opportunities for independent inquiry.
Students need teachers to model sophisticated reading and writing processes. Simply telling them to notice effective writing is unlikely to help if they do not yet know what to look for.
I begin by making the writer’s decisions visible through modeling, guided annotation, and discussion. Students then have opportunities to test their interpretations, experiment with techniques, and evaluate the results.
As their confidence develops, the responsibility gradually shifts from teacher-directed analysis to independent decision-making.
This is especially important in multilingual classrooms. Explicit vocabulary instruction, carefully selected passages, worked examples, and structured analytical language can make sophisticated literary analysis accessible without lowering expectations.
The objective is not to simplify the intellectual work. It is to provide students with the tools they need to undertake it.

Completing the Loop

One of the most revealing questions I can ask a student after a writing exercise is: What did you want your reader to experience, and what choices did you make to achieve that effect?
The question asks students to consider writing from both sides of the page.
They must think as writers about intention and technique, but also as readers about the effect their work actually produces.
When students return to literature with this perspective, they begin to notice things they previously overlooked. A sentence becomes interesting because of its rhythm. A description becomes memorable because of what the writer chooses not to reveal. An argument becomes convincing because of the way its author anticipates disagreement.
Reading becomes more attentive because students have experienced the difficulty of making similar decisions themselves.
Writing becomes more deliberate because students have encountered those decisions in the work of accomplished authors.
That is the value of closing the reading-to-writing loop. Literature is no longer simply material to understand, and composition is no longer simply a separate skill to practice.

Students read to discover what writing can do, write to discover how difficult those choices can be, and return to reading with a deeper understanding of the craft.