We’ve made it all the way to pattern
seven! This is the point when my students start celebrating, and they feel like
they’ve mastered the language of grammar. Of course there’s a lot left to learn
from here, but there’s no reason not to celebrate. Mastering all seven patterns
is a major accomplishment.
So here is what pattern seven looks
like. It has four core parts and follows the same internal logic of pattern
six, making it relatively easy to learn. First comes the familiar subjectnoun(SN),
or who or what the sentence is about. Next comes the verb-transitive(V-t),
which is an action verb that sends or
transfers its action to something else. The something that receives the
action is called the direct object (DO). Last of all
comes the object complement adjective (OCA), which modifies the direct
object.
Here is a simple sentence about Henry’s second daughter, Elizabeth,
next in the line of succession after Mary.
To classify this sentence we would follow a simple script.
Who considered herself clever?—Elizabeth (SN)
What is being said about Elizabeth?—Elizabeth considered (V)
Considered whom?—herself
(DO)
Since we have a direct object, we can go back to the verb
and label it transitive—(V-t)
Considered herself what?—clever
Does clever mean the same thing as herself?— no, clever modifies herself (OCA)
So the only difference with pattern six is that the object complement modifies the direct object, making it an adjective, instead of meaning the same thing as it. It really is that simple!
And, it gets even better. Pattern seven diagrams are the same as pattern six.
You probably noticed that this is a comparatively short sample lesson. That’s because I previously went into so much detail on pattern six, which is the foundation for pattern seven. If you need clarification, just go back to pattern six. If not, continue on to the practice sentences.
PRACTICE SENTENCES
All of our practice sentences will revolve around Queen Elizabeth. She is such a prominent historical figure, I am going to take her story a little at a time. For this post, I am focusing on some of her overarching characteristics and style of rule. There will be time to get into finer details later. As always, I am going to mix other patterns along with pattern seven.
She’s not so beloved in my classroom, however. We spend
considerable time studying Saint Edmund Campion, and it’s hard to like
Elizabeth in that context. Similarly, we study William Shakespeare and
Elizabeth’s patronage therein, and it’s hard to ignore the propagandist impact
she had on turning family rivals like Richard III into monsters through Shakespeare’s
plays.
Despite these criticisms, my students generally agree Elizabeth deserves all the fanfare she’s been awarded throughout history. She was extremely good at managing the affairs of state in tandem with the politics of her personal cult. In a way, she redefined power itself. Generations of leaders, both male and female, have borrowed from her playbook.
My students feel no small sense of
pride (and relief) when we get to pattern six. That’s because it’s the most advanced pattern yet, combining earlier
sentence structures in a new way, and it’s the second to last pattern of all.
Better still, pattern six is almost identical to pattern seven, so mastering
six is really key. We refer to it as the
beginning of the end of our sentence patterns.
Pattern six has four core parts. First comes the familiar subjectnoun(SN),
or who or what the sentence is about. Next comes the verb-transitive(V-t),
which is an action verb that sends or
transfers its action to something else. The something that receives the
action is called the direct object (DO).
Wait. That sounds like pattern two. And so it does—until we add one more core part.
Last of all comes the object complement noun (OCN), which is a word that means the same thing as the direct object.
Now you’re probably scratching your head just like my
students do and asking, “Isn’t that like a predicate noun?” Yes, it is! The
only difference is that predicate nouns match subject nouns, while object
complement nouns match direct objects.
Okay, that’s a lot to take in all at once. Let’s break this down with some visuals for review and comparison.
Notice that pattern six starts off in a linear fashion,
moving from the subject noun, to the verb-transitive, to the direct object.
Then, it suddenly doubles back with
the object complement noun. In a way, pattern six blends the logic of pattern
two and pattern four.
Here is a simple sentence about Henry’s oldest daughter, Mary, which shows the internal logic of pattern six.
To classify this sentence we would follow a simple script.
Who crowned Mary queen?—England
(SN)
What is being said about England?—England crowned (V)
Crowned whom?—Mary (DO)
Since we have a direct object, we can go back to the verb
and label it transitive—(V-t)
Crowned Mary what?—queen
Does queen mean the same thing as Mary?—yes (OCN)
With a little practice, my students quickly learn to
recognize pattern six sentences. Since they start off so similarly to pattern
two, it becomes rather easy to tack on the last part of the question and answer
flow to identify the object complement noun.
The only tricky part can be figuring out which word is the
direct object and which is the object complement noun. Happily, they just have
to remember that the direct objectalways comes first.
Now for the diagram.
Notice it looks like a combination of pattern two and pattern four. Because of that similarity, my students have a relatively easy time mastering the format.
PRACTICE SENTENCES
Let’s keep working with Queen Mary, next in the line of succession after her brother Edward. Since, as we previously learned, Edward died prematurely without even the chance to marry, he had no heirs and reluctantly passed the crown onto her.
Mary thus became England’s first female monarch to rule alone, marking a fundamental shift in gender politics that would eventually give way to the so-called modern era.
Mary’s story is a sad one. She was born into one of history’s most tumultuous families, separated from her mother at a young age, and denied even a chance to visit her on her death bed. When Mary did become queen, she was constantly in danger of being overthrown. Her marriage was more or less a sham, as Philip made open advances toward Elizabeth and readily supported naming her heir.
Nevertheless, Mary’s personal charisma and political acumen were so lacking that history has little sympathy for her. It has reduced her entire rule to a Protestant witch hunt and, not surprisingly, infamously dubbed her “Bloody Mary.”
What is surprising is that Elizabeth, a Protestant, would persecute and kill even more Catholics during her rule and yet gain the undying love of her people. We’ll start looking at Elizabeth’s long and complex history in the next lesson on pattern seven.
Once you understand pattern
four sentences, pattern five are a snap. They share the same internal
logic, so it actually works well to learn them simultaneously.
Like pattern four, pattern five has three core parts. First
comes the familiar subjectnoun(SN), or who or what the
sentence is about. Next comes the linking verb (LV), which ties the
subject to the predicate in a two-directional way. Last comes the predicate
adjective (PA), which modifies the subject noun.
Here is a simple sentence about Henry that shows the internal logic of pattern four.
To classify this sentence, we would use the following
script.
Who was angry?—Henry
(SN)
What is being said about Henry?—Henry was (V)
Was what?—angry
Does angry mean the same thing as Henry?—no, angry modifies Henry (PA)
Go back to the verb. —was (LV)
If you compare this question and answer flow with the one for pattern four, you will notice that everything is the same until we get to the fourth question about whether or not the predicate matches the subject. In pattern four, the answer to this question is YES, they DO match. But, in pattern five, the answer is NO, they DO NOT match. Nevertheless, they are connected in that the predicate adjective adds more meaning to the subject noun. In this example, “angry” explains what kind of person Henry is.
This is what it looks like in a diagram.
The difference between pattern four and pattern five is so subtle, they follow the exact same format when it comes to diagramming.
PRACTICE SENTENCES
For better or worse, it’s time to say goodbye to Henry and move onto his children. We will begin with his youngest child, Edward, who took the crown next in succession thanks to the practice of primogeniture explained in this post. These sentences combine pattern four and five.
His rule was so short because he died prematurely at the age of fifteen, leaving a very complicated line of succession in his wake. Being so young and unwed, he had no heirs.
Thus, his eldest sister, Mary, who had previously been declared illegitimate, managed to ascend the throne despite Edward’s opposition. We’ll look at her reign in the next lesson on pattern six.
While the first three sentence patterns build off of one another, that is not so with pattern four. It follows a totally different internal logic.
Pattern four sentences have three core parts. First comes
the familiar subjectnoun(SN), or who or what the
sentence is about. Next comes the linking verb (LV), which ties the
subject to the predicate in a two-directional way. Last comes the predicate
noun (PrN), which means the same thing as the subject noun. And there’s
the difference in the logic of the sentence: the subject and predicate “match.”
Let’s take a minute and compare patterns one, two, three, and four by way of a visual.
Notice that the first three patterns all move from the
subject noun toward the predicate in a linear, one-directional way. Now, look
at how that changes with the pattern four sentence.
In a pattern four sentence, the subject noun and the
predicate noun can be flipped because they mean the same thing or nearly the
same thing. Put differently, they are two ways of saying the same thing.
Here is a simple sentence about Henry that shows the internal logic of pattern four.
To classify this sentence, we would use the following
script.
Who was king?—Henry
(SN)
What is being said about Henry?—Henry was (V)
Was what?—king
Does king mean the same thing as Henry?—yes (PrN)
Go back to the verb. —was (LV)
You probably noticed that the script questions started off the same as the other patterns until we got to “was what?—king.” In a pattern two or three sentence, we would label the answer to the “verb what?” question as a direct object. But that doesn’t work here because “king” is not receiving any action from the verb. And the reason it’s not receiving action is because “was” is not an action verb in the first place. It’s a linking verb, which, incidentally, is made from a being verb.
It’s helpful, though not necessary, to have students
memorize the being verbs and discuss how they can be used as linking verbs in
pattern four sentences. Nevertheless, as long as they understand the question
and answer flow, they develop an intuition about the different types of verbs
because of how they are connected to the sentence as a whole.
This brings us to a second, related point.
Up until now, you may have been wondering why the verb question for classifying focuses on what is being said about the subject noun instead of asking what the subject noun does. The reason is that not all verbs are action verbs. While we could focus on what the subject noun does for patterns one, two, and three, that focus becomes mute in pattern four since linking verbs show no action.
To keep things consistent and help students memorize the
question and answer flow, it is much better to always ask the same question.
Thus, that question should focus on what is being said about the subject noun.
Let’s see what this looks like as a diagram.
Happily, it’s almost exactly the same as a pattern two. The
only difference is that the line that separates the linking verb from the
predicate noun is slanted. I personally imagine the slant as the beginning of a
“link” that would circle back to the subject noun.
PRACTICE SENTENCES
Now it’s time to try classifying and diagramming pattern four sentences. We’ll mix in pattern two sentences for comparison. Our focus is on Saint Thomas More, a man caught between serving his king, Henry VIII, and his God.
In doing so, Thomas firmly upheld the Church’s opposition to Henry’s divorce. Perhaps that sounds trivial by today’s standards, but Thomas well knew there was much more at stake than the king of England’s marital preferences. The very legitimacy of the Church’s authority was being called into question.
As God’s servant first, Thomas preferred to sacrifice his own life than undermine the Church in any way. No wonder he was instantly declared a saint by the people.
Before I adopted a language-based approach to studying
grammar, pattern three sentences were one of the hardest. Now, dare I say, they
are one of the easiest. I hope you will think so, too, by the end of this
lesson.
Pattern three sentences have four core parts, which distinctly draw from pattern two. First comes the subjectnoun(SN), or who or what the sentence is about. Next comes the verb-transitive(V-t), which is an action verb that sends or transfers its action to something else. The something that receives the action is called the direct object (DO). Here’s the tricky part: the direct object is then received by an indirectobject(IO).
Taken as a whole, all pattern three sentences are about giving something to something else. No doubt Henry VIII was very generous in his own way, so let’s continue working with him.
To classify this sentence, we would follow a simple script.
Who gave Anne flowers?—Henry
(SN)
What is being said about Henry?—Henry gave (V)
Gave what?—flowers (DO)
Since we have a direct object, we can go back to the verb
and label it transitive—(V-t)
Gave flowers to whom?—Anne
(IO)
Okay, hopefully that is simple enough. With practice, my students quickly internalize the script and learn to prompt themselves in order to classify sentences on their own. Indirect objects feel rather abstract when defined in isolation. But, as soon as you look at them in connection to all the other core parts, they tend to come into focus.
Now, let’s see what this looks like as a diagram.
Notice that this pattern three diagram looks just like a
pattern two diagram but with the addition of two extra lines: the blank
diagonal one attached to “gave” and the horizontal one built off of it that
says “Anne.” Now ask yourself if that combination looks familiar.
It should! It’s exactly the same format we use for prepositional phrases, the difference being there is no preposition to place on the diagonal line. (After all, it’s not a prepositional phrase but an indirect object). If we were to imagine one, there are two that would make sense, and they are: to and for. Both of those prepositions show relationships based on giving and receiving.
So, one way to test whether or not we have a pattern three sentence is to imagine to or for in front of the indirect object. If the sentence makes sense, then you know it’s a pattern three. One caveat—if to or for is actually in the sentence, then they are setting up a prepositional phrase, not a pattern three sentence.
Conceptually, the sentence above is exactly the same as our pattern three sentence example, but it’s no longer pattern three. It’s pattern two with a prepositional phrase.
PRACTICE SENTENCES
Now it’s time to try classifying and diagramming pattern three sentences. We’ll mix a few pattern one and two sentences in as well to help our story flow more naturally. Our focus is on Cardinal Thomas Wolsey, the man Henry VIII first commissioned to obtain his annulment from Catherine of Aragon so he could marry Anne Boleyn.
That didn’t stop Henry, of course. As we know from our pattern two lesson, he went on to divorce Catherine anyway. In doing so, he rejected the authority of the pope and declared himself the head of the Church in England, thereby sowing the seeds for the birth of the Anglican Church.
Our next major player in this drama is St. Thomas More, and we will look at him next in connection to pattern four sentences.
Grammar was an intimidating subject when I first started
teaching. Much like my students, I worried about remembering all the rules, not
to mention all the exceptions to the rules. Unlike my students, I had the
teacher edition of the textbook. Lucky me!
Once I mastered the material, I was able to start really developing my teaching philosophy. This blog series is going to breakdown what that consists of and offer several sample lessons complete with instructions. I hope it will prove useful to anyone interested in learning the language of Grammar.
LANGUAGE-BASED
GRAMMAR INSTRUCTION
I used to draw the majority of the material for my Grammar
lessons from textbooks, my favorite being Shurley
English. Now, I use the textbook more as a pacing guide to ensure I am
teaching all the key concepts for my age group. It’s great for drills and quick
reinforcement, which are absolutely essential for the learning process.
That said, I find a language-based Grammar class that focuses on sentence classification and diagramming most beneficial and rewarding for students. We work with well-written sentences to understand all sorts of concepts, from parts of speech to types of sentences and more. It not only shows the practical application of rules in a meaningful, interesting context, but it also draws on critical thinking skills in a highly logical fashion.
SENTENCE
CLASSIFICATION
Sentence classification is a method of labeling all the words in a sentence according to their “jobs.” Let’s take a look at an example.
“I” is a subject pronoun, “love” is a verb, “the” is an article adjective, and “Renaissance” is a direct object. Don’t worry if that feels confusing at the moment. It will become clearer after the first lesson or so.
Notice that word “jobs” are not necessarily the same as
parts of speech. For example, a noun is a part of speech, but its job in a
sentence can be subject noun, object of the preposition, direct object,
indirect object, and predicate noun. Likewise, “Renaissance” is a proper noun,
which is here used as a direct object.
By figuring out the job a word plays, students gain a much deeper understanding of the English language than simply looking at parts of speech. Sure, every child should learn to tell the difference between nouns, pronouns, verbs, adjectives, adverbs, prepositions, conjunctions, and interjections. But it’s how those words are used together in a sentence that matters.
Word jobs look at those relationships in a formulaic way that tends to be easy to internalize. Better still, it can be scripted aloud with a question and answer flow that engages students and allows them to immediately self-correct.
Using the example above, I might say, “Who loves the Renaissance?”
The class would respond, “I—subject pronoun.”
Next, I would ask, “Whatis being said about I?”
The class would respond, “I love.”
“Love what?” I would continue. “Love the Renaissance,”
the students would respond.
Finally, I would simply state, “The.” The class would say, “Article adjective.”
That’s pretty much it. As the teacher, I initially prompt the students for every sentence, but they soon learn how to do it themselves. The back and forth is extremely engaging in what might otherwise be somewhat boring and overwhelming. Instead, much like a math problem, students learn the “formula” for identifying word jobs. In the process, they gain a keen understanding of the internal logic of sentences.
To assist in this process, I frequently recite a set of memorization questions that drill students on the definitions of the various parts of speech and the types of jobs they can play. Here is a copy, which you may want to keep as a handy reference for the upcoming lessons.
Even if you never learned how to sentence diagram, you have probably seen them before. Diagrams are “drawings” that connect words according to their relationship to one another in a sentence. In contrast to classification, which is very auditory, diagramming is very visual.
Let’s take a look at the same sentence.
Each diagram line is “coded” with meaning. “I” and “love” and “Renaissance” are on the main horizontal line, thereby indicating they are the most important. The vertical line that separates “I” from “love” shows that everything in front of it is part of the complete subject and everything after it is part of the complete predicate. The other small vertical line shows that “Renaissance” is the direct object of “love.” “The” is on a diagonal line, showing that it modifies “Renaissance.”
Again, don’t worry if that sounds confusing. I will break it down more systematically in the coming lessons. For now, just consider it an example of what diagrams look like and how they communicate information.
“That looks hard!” parents often say when they visit during a Grammar class and see a row of students classifying and diagramming at the board while the rest do the same at their desks.
Well, it is, and it isn’t. With clear, well-paced instruction and plenty of interesting practice, students move through and master each lesson with relative ease.
What’s more, many tell me it’s fun. No, I’m not just talking about the high-flyers or kids trying to win brownie points. Nearly all of my students jump at the chance to classify and diagram at the board. They say it’s like putting together a puzzle. After they connect one of two pieces, they uncover the hidden “picture” or logic behind the individual parts.
As a teacher, there’s nothing like seeing a student complete a sentence classification and diagram. They begin with a quizzical look but that soon turns into one of focus and determination. By the end, their entire presence is one of triumph.
I teach the personal argument last of the three essay formats I have laid out in this series, and it always throws my students off at first. So trained as they are to develop a thesis and follow a set structure and organization in their writing, they expect the personal argument to be the same.
But it isn’t. In fact, it shouldn’t even read like an essay
when it’s done. It should read like a short story. Let’s take a look at the
principles at play in a personal argument.
THE “PERSON” IN PERSONAL
Personal arguments are a basic requirement of a just about any academic application. Why do you want to attend such and such school? What is your crowning achievement so far in your life?
These are hard questions to answer, especially for young, self-conscious students. They often think that a personal essay is akin to a job interview, but it shouldn’t be. It should really be like the beginning of a lifelong friendship. Just as two people get to know one another by sharing stories and making new ones together, a personal argument should do the same thing: It should tell a story about oneself that answers the essay question.
Rather than talk about being a hard-worker and commit to rigorous study sessions in the next school system, a good personal argument would tell a story about doing hard work. I remember the time I had to fill in last minute for the lead role in my class’s production of King Lear…
Now that’s an essay an admissions counselor would pay attention to. By the end of reading it, the counselor would feel like he actually knew the student and could picture the student making similar contributions in another school environment.
THE PLOT OF THE ESSAY
First and foremost, the plot must be drawn from real-life.
It can be exaggerated, of course, but only to the extent that it still reveals
the true nature of the student. Choosing stories is often the most difficult
for my students and, thus, the most important piece to talk-through with
others. It’s helpful to share the story aloud before writing it with a
classmate or parent and see how it goes over.
What did you learn
about me from this story? If the answer is different than what was
intended, the student may need to repackage the story or try a different one.
Personal arguments need all the traditional plot elements: exposition, inciting incident, rising action, climax, falling action, and resolution. Moreover, they need to have literal and figurative components.
For example, a literal inciting incident might be that the teacher asked me to memorize all of so-and-so’s lines for tomorrow’s play. Figuratively, that inciting incident reveals a challenge for the student’s work ethic and ability. So everything that follows in the plot would match those two ideas together, hopefully culminating with a successful performance.
It’s tempting to spell out the figurative side in the resolution, but I tend to think it’s better not to since it can change the tone of the story. If well-written, the message should be read in-between the lines.
A REMINDER ABOUT
PROCESS
Like the simple argument and the classical argument, the writing process in the personal argument is as important as ever. Students should brainstorm their stories and outline each separate element of the plot before writing it.
And the first draft should not be their last. The best personal arguments get revised dramatically from start to finish.
Initial revisions should focus on the storyline to make sure that it works. Once that’s in place, then the student should play around with the narration and dialogue so it reads like a gripping story and not just a summary of something that happened once. A final revision would clean up grammar, polish syntax, and sharpen word choice.
The reader, often an admissions counselor, will no doubt learn a great deal about the student from his personal argument. Best of all, the student will get to know himself better, too.
The second essay format I teach my students is the classical argument. It is more advanced than the simple argument for a number of reasons.
To begin with, the thesis in a classical argument is debatable in a consequential way, meaning there is something at stake. That something might be political, social, religious, or any number of things that affect the broader world. Given this substantive nature, the argument often requires outside research as opposed to simply one’s own personal analysis. Finally, in order to lend authority to one’s position, the essay format spells out and refutes the opposing position.
In a middle school classroom like mine, I might use a simple argument for analysis of King Arthurbut a classical argument for analysis of the justice of the Crusades. Given their complicated history and enduring legacy, a meaningful position on the Crusades requires research and attention to a vast array of conflicting viewpoints.
As I explain to my students, a classical argument is more than “I think this about such and such.” It’s also, “You should think this, too.” It’s clearly a persuasive argument because it tries to draw people to the writer’s viewpoint and dispel any doubt that other views could be correct.
The essay structure itself consists of five parts, which support a single thesis statement through deductive writing, meaning they begin with the thesis statement and then move on to support it.
PART ONE – THE INTRODUCTION
AND THESIS STATEMENT
Happily, the introduction of a classical argument models the
same format as that of a simple argument. It
introduces the topic to be discussed and presents the thesis statement. I
instruct students to limit themselves to approximately 3-5 sentences. The
brevity of the opening paragraph is one of its strengths and should not be
compromised by extraneous information.
This paragraph consists of three parts. The first is the opening sentence itself. This should typically consist of a simple statement of fact, especially for students who are just learning to write an essay for the first time. More “provocative” openings like questions or startling facts are a lot harder to pull off, and I recommend new writers avoid them.
The second part of the opening paragraph offers transitional background information and justification for why the topic is relevant.
Well-done transitional sentences pave the way for the final part of the opening, which is the one-sentence thesis itself, or the position the essay takes. I always remind students that the thesis should be something debatable much like an opinion. In other words, it is not simply a fact.
PART TWO – THE NARRATION
This part of the essay establishes context for the argument. First, it tells the story, so to speak, behind the essay. That story might be the history of a war or the facts of a case or some other relevant background.
Next, it addresses the reality that there are opposing views about the subject matter. It should state what those views are without actually getting into the arguments for either position. That will come later.
Finally, the narration makes a type of appeal to the reader, letting him know what is at stake in the essay and asking him to weigh each side carefully.
There is no set number of sentences, but a good paragraph of
8-10 sentences usually does it for middle school students. More advanced
writers might write several paragraphs in this part.
PART THREE – THE CONFIRMATION
Much like the body of a simple argument, the confirmation presents the evidence to support the thesis. It should have a topic sentence, at least three pieces of thoroughly explained evidence, and a concluding sentence that clearly ties the confirmation back to the thesis.
Again, a good paragraph of 8-10 sentences is ideal for middle school students, but more advanced writers might have several paragraphs in this section as well. .
PART FOUR – THE REFUTATION
AND CONCESSION
With careful planning, this part of the essay is often the strongest because it allows the writer to dismiss all, or nearly all, of the opposition’s claims.
It should have a topic sentence followed by as many objections as the writer can come up with. If there are areas where the opposition may have a good point, the writer should concede that but without giving full weight to their overall position. Finally, this part of the essay should have a concluding sentence that relates back to the thesis.
The refutation and concession should mirror the confirmation in structure and length.
PART FIVE – THE CONCLUSION
Its purpose is to drive home the thesis statement by casting its relevance more broadly than what was initially presented in the introduction and narration.
Beginning writers often erroneously think of a conclusion as a restatement of what has already been said. Though this might work on a basic level, it represents only a superficial understanding of the key purpose of the conclusion and tends to be boring.
I find it helpful to refer to the conclusion as the “so what” part of the essay. We often think of it in terms of the broad lessons we learned from exploring an argument in a specific context. In other words, it is the student’s opportunity to reiterate what is at stake in the argument.
The conclusion should be divided into three parts, inversely mirroring the introduction. It, too, should be relatively short but powerful.
The first part of the conclusion recalls the thesis but presents it in a new way. I refer to this as a “thesis with a twist.” The second part provides transitional information on the connection between the thesis and the stakes at play in the argument. The final part is broader still, typically consisting of only one or two sentences, and should press the moral imperative of making the “right” choice for “the world.”
A REMINDER ABOUT
PROCESS
If the writing process is important for the simple argument, it is all the more important for the classical argument, which is far more complicated.
From using Socratic discussions and disputations, to developing a thesis, to outlining the argument, to writing it out, every phase needs thorough, well-planned attention. Any breakdown in the writing process can greatly undermine the strength of the argument, and it shows all the more in this essay format.
Conversely, careful adherence to the process results in a persuasive argument even if the writing is wanting in style and beauty.
The classical argument, when followed properly, is as full-proof of a persuasive format as it gets. Naturally, there will be many readers who are not convinced in the end, but they will at least have to concede that the argument is convincing.
First image courtesy of the New York Public Library, New York
Second image courtesy of the National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C.
The first essay I format I teach my students is the simpleargument. If they can get this format down in middle school, they will soar through high school and even college writing assignments because it is so foundational.
The essay structure itself consists of three parts, which support a single thesis statement through deductive writing, meaning it begins with the thesis statement and then moves on to support it.
PART ONE – THE INTRODUCTION AND THESIS STATEMENT
The opening paragraph
of the essay introduces the topic to be discussed and presents the thesis
statement. I instruct students to limit themselves to approximately 3-5
sentences. The brevity of the opening paragraph is one of its strengths and
should not be compromised by extraneous information.
This paragraph consists of three parts. The first is the opening sentence itself. This should typically consist of a simple statement of fact, especially for students who are just learning to write an essay for the first time. More “provocative” openings like questions or startling facts are a lot harder to pull off, and I recommend new writers avoid them.
The second part of the opening paragraph offers transitional background information and justification for why the topic is relevant.
Well-done transitional sentences pave the way for the final part of the opening, which is the one-sentence thesis itself, or the position the essay takes. I always remind students that the thesis should be something debatable much like an opinion. In other words, it is not simply a fact.
PART TWO – THE BODY
The body provides three pieces of evidence to support the thesis statement. I teach my students to use only one paragraph for the body. It, too, is divided into three parts.
The first part is the topic sentence, which introduces the evidence. The second part of the body paragraph presents three pieces of evidence and so is the longest. Though there is no set number of sentences for students to follow, I tell them that good evidence needs to be clear enough for an outside reader to get the picture. The third part of the body paragraph is simply a concluding sentence or two that ties the evidence together.
As students mature in their writing, they will likely expand
the body of their essay from one to three paragraphs. Each piece of evidence
would then stand alone as a full, well-developed paragraph.
PART THREE – THE CONCLUSION
The concluding paragraph is often the hardest for students to write. Its purpose is to drive home the thesis statement by casting its relevance more broadly than what was initially presented in the introduction.
Beginning writers often erroneously think of a conclusion as a restatement of what has already been said. Though this might work on a basic level, it represents only a superficial understanding of the key purpose of the conclusion and tends to be boring.
I find it helpful to refer to the conclusion as the “so what” part of the essay. We often think of it in terms of the broad lessons we learned in class. I tell the students that the conclusion is their chance to explain why what they have to say matters to the world of ideas.
In a sense, it “closes” the argument yet “opens” a new, related idea at the same time.
The conclusion should be divided into three parts, inversely mirroring the introduction. It, too, should be relatively short but powerful.
The first part of the conclusion recalls the thesis but presents it in a new way. I refer to this as a “thesis with a twist.” The second part provides transitional information on the connection between the thesis and the world more generally. The final part is broader still, typically consisting of only one or two sentences, and should fully open the door to a new idea about the thesis.
A “SIMPLE” MISNOMER
For new writers, there is nothing “simple” about this essay format. It frequently takes many attempts to write a good one.
Some classical educators require students to continually rewrite an essay until it is “perfect,” but I do not. I think it is far better to give a fresh opportunity to work with a new thesis. With practice, students learn how to logically, persuasively, and even beautifully express their argument.
Once they do, they are ready to learn the classical argument, which I discuss in the next post.
Image courtesy of The National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C.
I’m sorry to say the word “essay” conjures fear in the
hearts of my students. I was no different in school. While I enjoyed reading
and discussing ideas, I found whatever excuse I could to put off writing them
out in an essay.
It was hard. It was time consuming. And I was never
satisfied with how my essays turned out.
Looking back, I realize that lack of satisfaction was a good thing because it (gradually) taught me the importance of revision. Still, revision took even longer and was just as daunting.
Now as a teacher, I feel the most important part of instructing students to write essays is instilling a respect for the process it involves. Yes, they need to use good grammar, strong evidence, and logical construction to make a sound argument. And, of course, I teach that as I go, but my bigger objective is to slow things down so they can constantly reassess the beauty and persuasiveness of their writing.
The world of classical education has its own special language for discussing the writing process, but it’s really no different than what one might find in a conventional writing “program.” (Remember, the difference is often found in the idea, not the process.)
PHASE ONE – THE THESIS
The first phase of the writing process is all about defining a thesis, or a main position. In classical terms, this is called invention. In more conventional terms, it is called pre-writingor brainstorming. Again, it’s really just a difference in word choice because it all means the same thing.
Activities like Socratic discussions and disputations are part of this phase because they help students develop their ideas and grow passionate about them long before they put pen to paper. For a breakdown of what this might look like, check out my previous post on debating King Arthur.
PHASE TWO – THE OUTLINE
The second phase of the writing process involves gathering evidence to support the thesis and compiling that evidence into a well-ordered, logical outline. The fancy classical word for it is arrangement, but I just as soon call it organizationlike many other writers do.
The outline is essential, and I generally model what this looks like on the board. To me, a good one is short with just headers and sub-headers, no supporting details. The reason for this is because I want students to figure out right away if they have enough evidence to support their thesis.
If, for example, they need three pieces of evidence to make a strong argument, they should be able to tick those off quickly in an outline. If they can’t, then they need to revisit their thesis and find one they can support.
PHASE THREE – THE WRITING
Having completed their outlines and affirmed the strength of their theses, students are ready to write their essays. Classical educators call this the style phase of the writing process. I like that terms myself because it conjures the imagination and reminds students that their writing should be beautiful and persuasive. More conventional programs might simply call it drafting or writingor even re-writing. Again, the idea is really the same even if the wording is different.
I try to have my students begin their writing in the classroom so I can provide guidance at the outset. By doing so, we fold re-writing into this phase as well. Of course students can and should revise more on their own, but many are unable to do so without another person’s critique.
For that reason, I welcome parent input for my middle schoolers. Some students at first think that’s cheating but not in my book. It’s part of the writing process to get the opinion of others. Even the best writers have editors, and those writers learn a great deal from being reviewed and edited. Likewise, I want my students to turn in the best possible version of their argument.
I’ll discuss what those arguments might look like in subsequent posts.
Image courtesy of the National Gallery of Art, Washington, DC