Belonging and Self-Awareness: An Important Purpose for Reading In Small-Groups

Many of us can think of a time when we were left out.  No matter how much we wanted to be a part of a group, we were not accepted, rejected, kicked out, or even ostracized.

Sometimes I get upset with how “belonging” is tossed around in schools. It’s as if to say the word, a magic wand swoops across the room and puts smiles on everyone’s faces before they say, “Let’s be friends.”

            Ironically, by doing this there’s an implicit power balance. Who’s the one leading the acceptance? The approach seems to desire that a magic wand be waved to erase previous experiences. Saying a student “belongs” suddenly erases years of rejection, and shame, and improves self-perception.  What’s regularly overlooked, for the good of the whole, is the limitations one thinks or feels of themselves, which appropriately, creates boundaries and inhibitions that keep a person safe, as we try to remove those without consideration of the student.

It’s well known that social groups or gatherings with people cause anxiety for some people.  Through any combination of life events, students withdraw or avoid larger groups of people (more than a friend) because they fear or (hyper) aware of their imperfections, which limits their cognitive and social abilities. Believing one cannot share or contribute exacerbates their challenges. That’s not including perceived intelligence or comparing one’s intellect against your own or assuming that another is more capable than yourself. Or, if an expert or adult, a respected other (i.e. teacher) thinks less of you because of your apparent shortcomings, like reading rate, perception, or interest in a text. If others become aware of it or that fallibilities show through because we make errors, misspeak, or don’t understand. When affection, attention, or connections cannot be obtained, security or comfort is found in hiding. Shame research tells us we are more likely to emerge from our negative legacy emotions, competent, confident, and resilient through love.

A few of us can recall when we wanted to be in a place with others, whether out of fear of being noticed, conflict, or perhaps out of pride, contrary to our objective which was to be accepted by others; to be a part of something bigger than us, we froze up, went silent. No one noticed or accepted us. Instead, we were ignored. I can think of several instances where students wanted to be seen but withdrew because of their differences, mainly perceived intelligence. I’ve taught students who were afraid of exposure, desperately desiring my attention, and reluctant to talk because of their differences – lacking shared interest in reading or unable to read in a manner that gains acceptance, our struggling readers.

Through this lens, we have to look at silence and withdrawal as a cry for help. There is a difference though, between someone who wants to be left alone and someone who is withdrawn. A person who wishes to be left alone is courageous enough to say so and is in a secure enough relationship where temporary withdrawal is respected. A person in withdrawal will remain silent to masquerade their appearance, or limit exposure.

Sadly, I see many kids confuse the two. They will use the excuse, “I want to be left alone” as a defense, protecting against vulnerability. Because the act and emotion can be ambiguous, I am certain to leave the student to their druthers for a short time. After a short time, I draw their attention to small groups, because the withdrawal behavior cannot be permanent. At some point, we need to cross the bridge together.

To avoid further shame, exposure, and vulnerability, one is apt to withdraw into loneliness, which though it feels safer, is likely more damaging. Such readers appear in our classrooms, though more apparent as students age. The trick for us as educators is to recognize this shame and help put practices in place that help move students into the light. Small-group instruction or intervention is where we can establish an interpersonal bridge with students to navigate a path toward discovering themselves and overcoming their reading challenges.

For those of us who have struggled with shame in any aspect of reading, our empathy can be a source of connection to help students gain our trust so that we can help them see themselves as competent confident readers, in due time. After all, to suffer with another is compassion, right?

We should consider how small-group instruction can be carried out in our classrooms, using SEL, shame, self-perception, and executive functioning as our initial consideration. In turn, we can make a powerful impact on tier-I instruction. After all, we don’t necessarily want students leaving the classrooms for intervention, only to be reminded of the very things that created awareness of their shortcomings.

Where once small groups were determined by reading level (a powerful shame inducer) or it can seem (stereotypically) obvious who might belong in such groups, believe it or not, assessment data, using interim assessments like the Reader Self-Perception Scale or the Index of Reading Awareness can clue us into how students compare themselves or see themselves about others and what they understand about reading, respectively.

Small groups don’t have to be based on academic outcomes like improving/accelerating through text levels. They can be SEL based. We can read a common book to find a new interest, to explore new text structures, by grouping students who don’t think they compare well to their peers. It’s not that we make a competitive group, but rather break down the walls of four students who feel like “they’re the only ones,” followed by building in capacity for constructive feedback, affirmation, and appreciation. (This deserves a deeper look!)

As I say in presentations, “We cannot get to the cognitive without going through the affective.” Yet so often, affect is disregarded and cognitive is cherished. As a result, students are dismissed for their responsiveness to learning, it’s held against them that they “aren’t learning” leaving the circle of shame unbroken.”

Let’s be real.  The burden struggling readers carry in a classroom because they cannot enjoy or act on reading in the way their teacher demonstrates is enough to make anyone hide.  Sometimes we can be overzealous and intimidating, perhaps forgetting, by way of the educational blind spot, that many of us were once struggling readers, too. Or that our love for reading and books can be intimidating, whereby a child immediately surrenders thinking, “There is no way I can do this.” And I ask you, please refrain from playing the growth mindset card here.  Growth mindsets are difficult when self-perception is threatened. That’s another story for another day.

However, if we put our readers and their self-perception first, then take the time to show students they are not alone, with the promise of working with them through “dark” times, their ability to read will not be solely foundational or science/researched based, but because readers found belonging self-efficacy, and self-worth.