Beyond the Red Pen: ROG 2007 and the Soul of a Writer

Tagline: A virtual discussion that challenged everything I thought I knew about teaching writing.

If the first few weeks of LIT 102 held up a mirror, the last  week handed me a map  how writers are actually made. Our teacher shared a post about the stages of writing development (ROG, 2007), and our class was tasked with diving in. What started as a simple discussion thread exploded into one of the most eye-opening professional conversations I’ve had in years and I mean years.

We were no longer just students; we were a community of  learning educators grappling with a fundamental truth.

The Stages Are a Symphony, Not a Checklist
ROG’s model outlines the progression from scribbles to fluent writing. But our discussion revealed that these stages aren't neat little boxes kids check off. They’re a messy, overlapping symphony. One colleague pointed out how a student might be a "Fluent Writer" in their personal diary but a "Developing Writer" in a formal essay. Another noted how a child might regress to "Phonetic Writing" when trying to spell a complex, emotional word.

This was a revelation. I’ve been assessing the product, but have I been ignoring the process? Have I been misinterpreting "messiness" as a lack of skill, rather than seeing it as the essential, beautiful chaos of cognitive growth?

The Justice Question

Then came the thought that has kept me up that very said  night. One of my colleagues asked as we were verbally discussing : "As teachers, are we doing justice in creating writers in our classroom, or are we just teaching?"

The corner of the room where I was sitting fell silent (virtually, at least). For me, it hit deep.

For ten-plus years, I’ve taught writing. I’ve taught grammar rules, paragraph structure, and more. I’ve wielded the red pen with the best of them. But have I created writers? Have I fostered a love for the craft? Have I shown my students that writing is a superpower for thinking, for feeling, for being understood?

Am not going to lie but this had me thinking!

Our discussion on ROG 2007 suggests that true writing development isn’t just about correctness. It’s about giving students the confidence to take risks, the strategies to solve problems, and the belief that their voice matters.

This isn't just about adding more creative writing units. It’s about shifting the entire ecosystem of the classroom. It’s about celebrating the courageous phonetic spelling as much as the perfectly spelled word. It’s about talking about our writing processes and sharing our own drafts.

This conversation has redefined my mission. I don't want to be a teacher who just teaches writing. I want to be a teacher who builds writers. Thank you to everyone in LIT 102 for pushing my thinking so deep. The journey has just begun.

The Social Life of Writing

 

 I have always believed that writing begins when a pen or pencil touches the paper or when words appear on a screen. However, I now realise that writing truly starts long before that moment, in the quiet space where ideas first take shape. Even the act of thinking is the beginning of writing, and this simple awareness has transformed my perspective on the process. It reminded me of my own question: when does writing really begin?

In exploring this question, I was deeply struck by the social nature of writing. Furneaux (1998) reminded me that “writers do not operate as solitary individuals but as members of a social and cultural group.” This expresses that writing is more than an individual task; it is a process embedded within communities that influence both how writing is produced and how it is received. Writing, then, is not only about self-expression but also about connection. The social system brings together ideas, purposes, and relationships, while the social process encourages writing for an audience, inviting feedback, and building on shared knowledge. I found this to be an excellent practice because it makes writing richer, more collaborative, and more meaningful.

https://www.youtube.com/shorts/Cy006oLKzyc

I also pondered on the Recursive Nature of Writing as described by White and Arndt (1991), who emphasised that writing is not linear but rather a process of constant movement between drafting, revising, and refining. For me, this means that writing is alive, always capable of growth and change, just as we are. This description gave me comfort because it reminded me that returning to a piece of writing does not signal failure but rather the opportunity to strengthen and clarify my thoughts.

When I looked at the stages of writing identified by Harp and Brewer (1991), Kropp (2025), and Rog (2007), I felt a strong connection to Rog’s explanations. The way she carefully distinguished each stage resonated with me because I could clearly see these stages reflected in the classroom and in children’s writing journeys. Observing how their ideas move from one stage to another reminded me of the beauty of growth, and it made me appreciate the patience and guidance required to nurture young writers.

https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjksFC8sP7Ercf40qeEF0fc9-NARvv9tGitPhrIytPHUKR96el67mlVo0v64fpBE9723uI3JyX7iaJmurRP3Mfiekrx4YTpiBdsi7kV1t_IQbq0_ON8joE40yr3G6ysiA64DwVpvDVI2hY/s1600/115635687.jpg

 Image demonstrating the Writing stages mentioned above. 

In the end, I am reminded that writing is not a simple act but a complex process shaped by many forces. It is influenced by the task at hand, the cognitive abilities of the writer, and the social environment that surrounds them. More than anything, I have come to understand that writing is both personal and communal. It is a journey of thought, emotion, and interaction, and each time I write, I am reminded that I am not writing alone. 

Niola Patrice!

✍🏽 Writing Together: Exploring the Social Side of the Process

 

Tagline: Exploring how social interactions enhance writing skills.

Writing is often perceived as a reclusive activity—one student, one pencil, one page. But through this week’s session of LIT102, I have come to learn that writing is deeply social. It is shaped by conversations, shared experiences, and the presence of an audience. As a teacher, I have worked closely with students in real classrooms, and have witnessed how writing flourished when nurtured through teacher-student collaboration and reflection.

👥 The Role of Audience in Writing  

 

Additionally, I learned that when students write with an audience in mind, their work becomes more purposeful. They should be guided to ask themselves: Who will read this? What do I want them to feel or understand? This shift can transform their writing from a private task into a meaningful exchange. As I continue to learn myself, I was made to realize that I should encourage students to share their drafts with peers—not just for correction, but for connection. This practice will foster in students a sense of community and help them to see their writing as part of a larger conversation.  

     🤝 Engaging with Peers

Peer reading activities can be a powerful tool in the classroom to foster collaboration, deepen comprehension, and build confidence in student writing. When students read and respond to each other’s work, they:

• 🔍 Develop critical thinking: They learn to analyze ideas, structure, and clarity—not just their own, but others’ too.

• 💬 Strengthen communication skills: Giving and receiving feedback helps students articulate thoughts respectfully and constructively.

• 🤝 Build a sense of community: Sharing writing creates trust and encourages empathy, especially when students see diverse perspectives.

• 🧠 Enhance metacognition: Reflecting on peer feedback helps students become more aware of their own writing habits and choices.

• 🎯 Support differentiated learning: Students scaffold each other’s growth, aligning beautifully with Vygotsky’s theory of social development.

I cannot stress enough how much remorse I feel for how I taught my students prior to this programme. I taught based on the knowledge I had at the time, and my approach was largely teacher-centred. I believed that guiding students meant taking full responsibility for their writing—editing every piece myself, pointing out errors, and offering suggestions for improvement. I genuinely thought I was helping them grow.

But now, through LIT102 and my evolving understanding of writing as a developmental and social process, I realize that I was unintentionally limiting their growth. I was doing the work for them, rather than with them. It never occurred to me that students could collaborate, share drafts, and edit each other’s work meaningfully. I didn’t see writing as a journey they could navigate together. This realization has been both humbling and transformative. 

The students in doing so, they can:

• Incorporate New Ideas: Feedback from classmates brings fresh perspectives that reshapes their narratives.

• Draw on Previous Knowledge: They connect current writing to past experiences, deepening their insights.

Incorporating this approach can not only reduce my time spent correcting and editing work— but it will empower my students to become co-creators in the learning process. By encouraging peer scaffolding I will allow my students to support each other’s growth, building confidence and competence together.

🌍 The Social Context of Writing

Another thing I have learned is that writing doesn’t happen in a vacuum. It is influenced by the social systems, relationships, and purposes that surround us. In my teaching practice, I’ve seen how these dimensions shaped my students' writing:

• Social Systems: Students write within the context of their communities, drawing on shared values and experiences. Example letting them write on their perception of "Jab Jab"

• Purposes: Whether writing a letter, a story, or a report, the intent must align with the audience’s expectations.

• Interpersonal Relations: Writing is relational—it is about tone, empathy, and connection. When students understand this, their writing becomes more authentic and engaging.

🌱 Looking Ahead: Cultivating Community in Writing

I cannot take back what I did in the past, but I can change the course of my future. As I continue to grow as an educator, I am committed to fostering a classroom culture where writing is collaborative, purposeful, and socially grounded. By letting my students share, revise, and reflect, I will  empower them to become thoughtful communicators who value feedback, embrace diverse perspectives, and take ownership of their learning. This shift will not only strengthen their writing skills but also builds a community of thinkers, communicators, and change-makers.

Writing is a journey best taken together, and I am willing and excited to guide my future students along their paths.

I aim to build a classroom culture where every voice matters. So in futures sessions, I hope to learn about strategies to help support reluctant writers or students with diverse needs—ensuring everyone feels seen and heard.

Join me next week as I explore more strategies in LIT102  for nurturing young writers! Before I go, here is a question to ponder on. If writing is a social act, how might our classrooms—and our communities—change when every student’s voice is heard, valued, and responded to?"

Anique

 

Title: Diagnosing Development: A Glimpse into a Young Writer's Mind

Date: September 24 2025
Author: Reshana Britton

This week's LIT 102 session took us deep into the concept of writing as a developmental stage, moving beyond the simple view of writing as a final product to be graded. We explored the frameworks of researchers like Harper and Brewer, which outline the typical progression young writers undergo.  The theory truly came alive when we were given a real sample to analyze: a heartfelt piece titled "To Kayla" by a student named Jonathan. 

The most engaging part of the class was the hands-on group work where we collaboratively critiqued this draft to determine which stage of writing development the writer was in. Working in my triad, we huddled over the text, which was full of charmingly phonetic spellings like "lownivhale" for what we guessed was 'living room' or 'hallway,' and "flore" for 'floor.' Our task was to look past these surface errors and diagnose the writer's current understanding.

An interesting part of our analysis was recognizing the critical role of student interest. Jonathan's piece was clearly driven by a genuine affection for Kayla (who we concluded is likely a pet), which gave his writing a sincere and moving voice. This connects directly to our earlier discussions on how interest is fuel for overcoming the challenges of writing. Furthermore, this activity underscored the teacher's vital role not as a mere corrector, but as a model and diagnostician. Instead of circling every error, we practiced asking what each "mistake" revealed about what the writer knows and is ready to learn next. For instance, the invented spelling "lownivhale" isn't just an error; it's evidence that Jonathan is confidently hearing and representing syllables, a key skill in the phonetic to transitional stage. This shift in perspective is crucial it's about modeling how to think about writing rather than just handing down corrections.

Our group consensus was that Jonathan is operating within the Transitional Stage.

 His writing demonstrates more than just isolated words; he crafts meaningful, multi-sentence text with complex structures, like his use of "When" clauses. His spelling is largely phonetically logical, showing he takes risks with sophisticated vocabulary. This exercise was incredibly valuable because it made the theoretical stages feel immediate and practical. It solidified for me that effective writing instruction hinges on understanding where each student is in their journey. By diagnosing the stage, we can celebrate strengths like Jonathan's vivid ideas and risk-taking, while strategically planning the next steps, such as focusing on common sight words or specific vowel patterns. I left class with a much deeper appreciation for the stories hidden within young writers' drafts and am eager to apply this diagnostic lens as we explore the writing process and traits in future sessions.

A question for my blog partners: When you were analyzing Jonathan's writing sample, what was the single biggest clue for you in pinpointing his stage? Was it the spelling, the sentence structure, or something else?

 

 

 

 

Exploring the Journey From Scribbles to Sentences: Writing as a tool for thinking, learning, and expression.

"The role of a writer is not to say what we can all say, but what we are unable to say." – Anaïs Nin.

What is writing?

Writing is more than putting words on a page; it is a journey of thinking, expressing, and understanding. For the longest time, I focused almost entirely on reading: decoding, fluency, and comprehension. Writing often felt secondary, almost like an afterthought. As I began exploring the developmental stages of writing, however, my perspective shifted. I started asking questions I had never considered before: When should children begin writing? And, more importantly, what does it truly mean to write?

Watching the stages unfold, from scribbles to symbols, letters, and eventually full words and sentences, has been both fascinating and eye-opening. Each stage is not merely a technical milestone; it reflects a child’s growth in thinking, communicating, and expressing themselves. As a student at Teacher’s College, understanding this process has led me to reflect deeply on how I can support Learners on their individual journeys.

Writing Transitions

I have also explored two models of the writing process. Dahl and Farnan (1998) describe it in a linear way: prewriting, drafting, and revising. This approach is structured, practical, and easy to follow, especially for beginners. In contrast, Flower and Hayes (1981) view writing as a cognitive process involving planning, translating, and reviewing, often moving back and forth. This model captures the real, sometimes messy, mental effort behind putting thoughts into words.

Both perspectives offer valuable insights. The linear approach emphasises order and clarity, while the cognitive approach reminds me that writing is fluid and alive. In practice, I have realised that writers often blend the two approaches: following steps when necessary but circling back to rethink, revise, and refine ideas.

Reflecting on my own writing process has been the most striking part. I have come to see that writing is not simply for language arts. It is a thinking tool that supports mathematics, science, social studies, and beyond. Writing helps us make sense of ideas, connect thoughts, and truly understand the world around us.

This reflection has deepened my respect for writing. It is no longer simply a school requirement; it is a way to shape thought and voice. I continue to ask myself: How can I meet students where they are? How can I guide them, nurture them, and create a safe space where every child’s words matter?

For future sessions, I would love to see more hands-on experiences: examining student writing at different stages, practising the writing process ourselves, and learning to give constructive feedback as teacher trainees. Experiences such as these would make our understanding more concrete and our teaching more effective.

I am curious. When do you believe children should begin writing, and how do you see writing as a tool for learning across all subjects?

Niola Patrice!

Writing Between the Lines: A Teacher’s Reflection on Process and Practice

 

✍️ Writing Between the Lines: A Teacher’s Reflection on Process and Practice

Tagline: How rethinking writing is helping me reframe how I teach it.

Writing, in my view, is using written representations—words, symbols, even sketches—to express thoughts, emotions, and ideas. It is how we make sense of our world and share that sense with others. But as I have explored more scholarly perspectives in LIT102, I have come to appreciate writing as more than expression—it is a structured, purposeful act. Scholars like Kinneavy, Flower & Hayes, Murray, Bitzer, and Devitt remind us that writing involves organizing ideas, adhering to formats, and communicating with a defined audience for a specific purpose. It is meaning-making, idea-shaping, and connection-building all at once.

In theory, this sounds neat. But in practice—especially in the classroom—writing is anything but tidy. Dahl and Farnan (1998) offer a linear model: prewriting, drafting, revising, editing, publishing.

Retrieved from https://melanieschitwood.com/do-you-know-the-steps-of-the-writing-process/

It is helpful for teaching structure, and I have used it often. But Flower and Hayes (1981) challenge this with their cognitive process model, showing that writing is recursive, messy, and deeply mental. As a teacher, this resonates with me. I have seen students struggle to get words on the page, not because they do not understand the task, but because they are  still planning, still processing, still figuring out what they want to say.

This lesson has made me reflect, and confront my own habits. I have caught myself focusing too much on surface errors—spelling, punctuation, grammar—especially when marking student work. I have expected polished pieces on the first attempt, forgetting that writing is a journey, not a destination. Even in my own writing—whether it is a lesson reflection, a research note, or a personal journal—I rarely get it right the first time. I revise, rethink, and sometimes abandon drafts altogether. Why should my students be any different?

🌿 Visual Metaphor: The Writing Journey Through Grand Etang

image generated by Bing AI Creator

Imagine writing as a winding trail through the Grand Etang Rainforest—lush, unpredictable, and full of discovery. It’s not a straight road, and that is the beauty of it. Along the way, writers encounter:

• River Crossings (Prewriting): Just like choosing where to step across a stream, writers gather ideas, test footing, and decide which thoughts are worth carrying forward.

• Forks in the Bamboo Trail (Drafting): Paths split and choices must be made. Writers begin shaping their ideas, choosing words, and deciding how to move forward—even if the trail is muddy.

• Hilltop Lookouts (Revising): After climbing, writers pause to see the bigger picture. They adjust their route, rethink their structure, and sometimes retrace steps to make the journey clearer.

• Resting Rocks (Editing): These are the quiet spots where writers smooth out the bumps—fixing grammar, punctuation, and spelling, like clearing twigs from the path.

• Bonfire at the Lake (Publishing): At the edge of Grand Etang Lake, stories are shared like tales around a fire. It is a moment of pride, reflection, and celebration—whether the journey was smooth or stormy.

Some students may sprint ahead, others may double back. Some may need a guide, others may wander and discover. As teachers, we are not just mapmakers—we are fellow travelers, helping students navigate their own writing terrain.

🔄 Looking Forward: Creating Writers, Not Just Writing

Are you eager to join me along this learning journey? I am committed to nurturing writers—not merely teaching writing. I want my classroom to be a space where students take risks, explore ideas and find their voice. Whether they’re writing a story, a science reflection, or a simple journal entry, I want them to feel that their words matter.

This journey inward has helped me look outward with new eyes. Writing is not just a skill—it is a way of thinking, feeling, and connecting. And as a teacher, I have the privilege of helping my students discover that for themselves.

In future sessions, I am eager to learn more about how to guide students through revision without overwhelming them. How can we help them see revision as a creative and empowering step, not just correction?

Hope you enjoyed reading my blog. See you next week!

Anique

References

Bing Image Creator. (n.d.). Bing Image Creator. Retrieved September 23, 2025, from https://www.bing.com/images/create/please-generate-an-image-of-a-group-of-hickers-ch/1-68d2c72ab2ef4826be36df3247cf2312?mdl=1&FORM=GENCRE

Bitzer, L. F. (1968). The rhetorical situation. Philosophy & Rhetoric, 1(1), 1–14.

Chitwood, M. S. (2022, January 11). Do you know the steps of the writing process? Melanie S. Chitwood. https://melanieschitwood.com/do-you-know-the-steps-of-the-writing-process/

Dahl, K., & Farnan, N. (1998). Children’s writing: Perspectives from research. International Reading Association.

Devitt, A. J. (2004). Writing genres. Southern Illinois University Press.

Flower, L., & Hayes, J. R. (1981). A cognitive process theory of writing. College Composition and                     Communication, 32(4), 365–387.

Kinneavy, J. L. (1971). A theory of discourse. Prentice-Hall.

Murray, D. M. (1972). Teach writing as a process not product. The Leaflet, 71(3), 11–14.

💥The Teacher's Mirror: Unpacking My Own Writing Journey💥

Tagline: How looking back at my own process is reshaping how I look forward at my students'.

For the first two weeks in LIT 102, as we began our course we’ve been doing something deceptively simple: looking inward. Our task was to reflect on our own personal writing what we write, why we write it, and the invisible toolkit of experiences we bring to the page.

And let me tell you, as a teacher for over a decade, this was a profound mirror to hold up to myself.

I started this exercise thinking I knew my own process. I write lesson plans, reports, emails to parents, whatsapp messages …  and you know the functional stuff. But when I dug deeper, I thought about the frantic journaling I did during my first year of teaching, the heartfelt letters I write to my students at the end of a school year, and even the silly, rhyming poems I craft for my own daughter at bedtime.

The "Why" Behind the Words
What struck me most was the why. The journaling was for survival a way to process the overwhelming flood of new experiences. The letters to my students were for connection, to cement a bond that went beyond the curriculum. The poems for my daughter was  purely for joy. I wasn't just "writing"; I was healing, connecting, and loving through writing.

This realization was my first lightning bolt. How often do I create space in my classroom for writing that serves these deeper human purposes? Or is most of the writing I assign for assessment, for correction, for a grade?

The Invisible Backpack of Pre-Requisites
Then we looked at the prerequisites the background knowledge we drag into every writing task. To write those lesson plans, I need pedagogical knowledge. To write those reports, I need data on each child. To write that journal, I needed the emotional memory of the day.

This got me thinking about my students. When I ask a child to write a "story about their weekend," what am I really asking for? I'm asking them to recall memories, sequence events, choose relevant details, understand narrative structure, and have the fine motor skills to get it on paper. That’s a heavy load! And what if their weekend was stressful or lonely? The emotional prerequisite alone can be a barrier.

This reflection has left me with a burning question: Am I just teaching writing, or am I nurturing writers? Is my classroom a place where writing is a mechanical exercise, or is it a workshop where we bring our whole selves our joys, our fears, our memories to the page?

The journey inward, it seems, is the first step toward transforming my practice outward.

References

Elbow, P. (1973). Writing without teachers. Oxford University Press.

Graves, D. H. (1983). Writing: Teachers and children at work. Heinemann.

Graham, S., & Harris, K. R. (2005). Writing better: Effective strategies for teaching students with learning difficulties. Brookes Publishing.