Monday Motivation: Looking for Alligators (And Teaching Students to Read and Write)

The True Story:

     This past week my family vacationed in the Charleston, South Carolina area. During the nature boat tour at Magnolia Plantation, the seven children aboard probed and questioned the guide relentlessly about the alligators. Apparently the gator population in the fields is near the upper 300s. That's a lot of lizards for roughly 100 acres! Yet he warned, it's hot. Gators are cold-blooded therefore, they leave most of their body underwater. We may not see much of one, if any, during our tour.

     During this lengthy and well-focused explanation, the adults near my side of the boat spotted three gators lurking together, quietly unseen, nestled among the reeds. Their eyes watched us while their spines rippled near the surface of the water. We pointed and whispered to one another so as not to seem rude, but the gators were there, waiting...

     ...like the children.

     Birds, ducks and a turtle scuttled by as the tour slowly passed through the marsh area. These distraction kept the tourists on their toes, shifting from a view on one side, to the view on the other.

     Our trusty guide, "Captain May" (Accept Tips) graciously shared his knowledge of the former rice plantation and the difficulties faced by choosing to plant rice near a salt water inlet.

     Occasionally, a curious child would interrupt. "When will we see an alligator?" Their bright eyes shined, and their plea was urgent but polite.

     The captain would respond, "I haven't had a tour that hasn't seen at least one." And he continued to tell his stories.

     Meanwhile, the children darted from front to back, searching. Ever searching.

     The first official spotting was claimed by a high pitched scream from one of the older boys, "There's one!"

     The captain conferred and shifted to a full stop. He warned the children that he would need to back the boat cautiously so the gator wouldn't startle. The captain succeeded.            

     The 6-foot gator left his head and a portion of his body out long enough for the adults to snap pictures and the children to debate whether or not they should be worried about being so close to the edge.

      Now the search was on in earnest! Our wonderful "Captain May" continued to fill the adult attentive minds with facts from the plantation's history while the children questioned the existence of gators at every turn.

     We spotted around 12 alligators overall (counting the first three). Pretty good for a day when they "may not be seen."

     But the big reward came at the very end of the journey. The dock was nearly in sight.

     A horrid sound interrupted the captain's final chapter of the plantation's rice-field story. There was obviously a struggle, but from where?

     Even the captain showed genuine curiosity. He slowed the motor and inched the boat closer to the reeds.

     It was an alligator! A huge American gator! With his body, fully visible, his head tilted upward, he swallowed and gulped on one of the precious snake-birds we had spotted earlier. The gator was massive! He was at least 10 feet in length. As we veered closer, he stopped mid-chomp and slid slowly into the water.

     The children were silent. They watched and waited.

     The gator didn't retreat completely, and he didn't continue his meal either. He remained, momentarily stunned.

     The good captain let the boat sit until it became obvious that the gator wasn't going to give in and put on a show for us.

     As the engine started up again, and we pulled away, the children returned to their seats without being told. Their curiosity had been satisfied. The trip was a success.

How Does This Relate to Teaching?

     I tell this story because it reminds me of the struggles students (and adults) face when reading and writing.

     Experience in "noticing" led me to spot the first three alligators, but until their focus was established and masterfully honed by our captain, the children and some of the other adults weren't ready.

     This demonstrates why it's so important not to simply think that handing a child a book will solve a struggling reader's problems. Like the captain baiting the visitors on the voyage, it's our job as teachers and parents to guide them through the process. We have to start with small glimpses, pique their interests and model our personal methods of finding meaning.

     I'm not sure how much of "Captain May's" gator stories were rehearsed lines, but I suspect, as a guide of boat-loads of "students," he recognized the pattern important to a successful boat ride a long time ago. "Captain May" had given us the tools to find the gators, practiced with us, demonstrated what to look for, and then, after many false sightings and close calls, we were rewarded with a successful alligator view. This is how we should be teaching. 

     Later, as my family continued through the plantation's gardens and marshes, we kept an eye out for alligators. We knew what to do, we knew how to find them, and we had been rewarded with a success. We often ran into a family with three of those children from the boat tour. They were also looking for hidden alligators.

     As teachers we want the hunt to continue; the strive for learning to persist. We have to make our students' tasks relevant, engaging and rewarding. Once we get that right, our students will be seeing alligators everywhere!