n this article, we have synthesized the findings of empirical research recently published in RTE to assist classroom teachers in developing a clearer “reading” of the current state of En glish education. We have reported a number of findings related to identity, writing pedagogy, new literacies, En-glish language learners, and the teaching of literature with the goal of informing En glish language arts teachers’ pedagogy and practice in these areas. These are, or perhaps should become, the topics of discussion in our professional lives.

Findings related to the teaching of writing suggest that high school students have learned a number of strategies for managing academic writ-ing assignments and high- stakes testing that reflect their perspectives on the inauthentic nature of these assessments

Results also re-vealed that knowledge of ELL writers’ extra- textual identities, informed by watching a short video of the writer, affected raters’ assessment of their writ-ing, suggesting that knowledge of and interactions

ew literacies investigated how the use of media and composition in virtual environments relates to literacy.

Results also indi-cated that as students develop academic identi-ties, they often produce writing that counters the conventions of grammar and usage, highlighting the importance of teachers recognizing students’ emergent competencies and honing in on areas where students need additional support in develop-ing their academic voices (Carbone and Orellana).

Studies addressing writing pedagogy examined teaching writing, the conventions of writing, writ-ing assessment, and students’ writing processes.

Studies addressing identity examined the intersec-tion and impact of race, class, gender, and/or cul-ture on literacy learning and instruction. Findings related to racial identity revealed the tensions that occurred when students’ literacy interests that re-flected their racial identities were marginalized by the classroom teacher (Ives).

Our goal was to syn-thesize the findings of that research to help prac-titioners develop a clearer “reading” of the current state of the field, which could inform their peda-gogy and practice.

dentity, writing pedagogy, new literacies, En glish language learners, and the teaching of literature.

ongoing critical dialogue related to these issues

To move inquiry forward, researchers need to “interrogate their methods, innovate for the context, and explicate their approaches to data analysis” (Magnifico, Curwood, & Lammers, in press). Because networked field sites are dynamic (Gerber, Abrams, Curwood, & Magnifico, 2017) and foster emergent meaning-making (Stornaiuolo, Smith, & Phillips, 2017), researchers need to consider the ethical challenges of their work as they study literacy practices and reflect upon their implications for individuals and communities. A

Our work to understand the intersection of literacy, identity, and creativity often depends on our capacity to follow individuals, texts, and tools across time and space, and our ability to make sense of their lives on and off the A call for using storytelling as language and literacy theory, research methodology, and practice. Journal of Literacy Research, 49,467–475.KinlocH, V., & sAn PEDro, t. (2014). The space between listening and storying: Foun-dations for Projects in Humanization. In D. Paris & M. T. Winn (Eds.), Humanizing research: Decolonizing qualitative inquiry with youth and communities (pp. 21–42). Thou-sand Oaks, CA: SAGE.koVAcH, M. E. (2009). Indigenous method-ologies: Characteristics, conversations, and contexts. Toronto, Canada: University of Toronto Press.mArtinEz, D. C. (2017). Imagining a language of solidarity for Black and Latinx youth in English language arts classrooms. English Education, 49, 179–196.milEs, m. B., & HuBErmAn, A. M. (1994). Qualitative data analysis: An expanded sourcebook. Thousand Oaks, CA: SAGE.PAtEl, L. (2014). Countering coloniality in educational research: From ownership to an-swerability. Educational Studies, 50, 357–377. PAtEl, L. (2015). Decolonizing educational research: From ownership to answerability. New York: Routledge.sAn PEDro, t., cArlos, E., & mBuru, J. (2017). Critical listening and storying: Fostering respect for difference and action within and beyond a Native American literature class-room. Urban Education, 52, 667–693.sAn PEDro, t., & kinlocH, V. (2017). Toward Projects in Humanization: Research on co-creating and sustaining dialogic relation-ships. American Educational Research Journal, 54(1 Suppl.), 373S–394S.trAcy, S. J. (2010). Qualitative quality: Eight “big-tent” criteria for excellent qualitative research. Qualitative Inquiry, 16, 837–851.tuck, E. (2009). Suspending damage: A letter to communities. Harvard Educational Review, 79, 409–428.winDcHiEF, s., & sAn PEDro, t. (EDs.) (2019). Applying Indigenous research methods: Story-ing with peoples and communities. New York: Routledge.Timothy San Pedro is assistant professor of Multicultural and Equity Studies in Educa-tion at The Ohio State University. i390-400-May19-RTE.indd 3976/4/19 1:50 PM398Research in the Teaching of EnglishVolume 53 May 2019screen.

co-analyzing data, co-constructing ideas, and co-authoring those revelations with those I have had the honor to work with. The co- also refers to the space between youth and me where dialogic relationships are created, crafted, and sustained through multiple moments of vulnerability, trust building, and storying

“What is at stake (and whose interests are served) in a power dynamic where only one person is asked to reveal him- or herself?

Therefore, we find ourselves as queer literacy researchers wondering less about ethics as embraced by institutional structures that privilege normative positions, and instead challenging ourselves to keep these questions as the heart of what guides us: Who is our work accountable to? Who does it empower? (Rodríguez, 2018; see also San Pedro, this issue). What if we acknowledge that our work is more concerned with changing conditions for queer people than with protecting the comfort of straight people? Can we recognize and respect the risk that (straight) teachers take when they incorporate queer topics into curriculum, while still cen-tering that expectation as what queer people and families deserve? What would it mean for literacy scholars to reject normative ideas of risk and instead see from the perspective of the teacher from the beginning of this piece?

What that means, both in terms of ethical and methodological work, is that we are continually negotiating, reclaiming, and attempting to recalculate and rearticulate normative, oppressive, heterosexist no-tions of “risk.”

reflect on what it means to do ethical literacy research. Each author explores ethics as defined not just by traditional, institutional standards, but by standards informed by their specific contexts and broader definitions of justice. Together, these pieces provide direction for any researcher concerned with producing work that nourishes communities beyond research institutions.

It is important to unite the practical and intellectual, applied and theoretical, in a science of reading because no single piece of content or pedagogy, be it phonics knowledge or cueing systems, explains or remediates the profound educational debt owed to students with learning differences as well as communities of color, immigrants, native peoples, and the economically disadvantaged. The science of reading has to be about the integrity with which we repay the debts of instruction that has been both cognitively and culturally unresponsive to students and therefore destined to marginalize and stigmatize. Otherwise, it is not science at all: It is hegemony, purely designed and destined to preserve a homogenous elite rather than include the cultural, linguistic, and neurological diversity that greets teachers each morning.

Different studies have placed the percentage at different points (e.g., 87%, 90%, 95%), and it is likely that the exact percentage depends on the reader, the context, the text, the reason for reading, and so on. However, given the strength of the evidence that accuracy matters, it was prudent to develop clinical guidelines: suggestions for practice based on evidence, but not necessarily a literal translation of the evidence, especially where the evidence is not specific. This is where independent, instructional, and frustration levels (97%, 95%, and 90%, respectively) came from. This is also why you cannot locate a set of two studies that agree on these three terms set at those three levels, although they are commonly found on instructional materials, assessments, and classroom posters. It is possible to find a text that can be read at 99% accuracy with no understanding and one at 89% accuracy with no understanding and conclude that teachers are using folksy pseudoscience and should be all be retrained while their teacher preparation programs are shut down based on this latest piece of evidence that teachers do not know or use the science. It is also possible to trace that practice back to its roots in science and determine whether it has gone a step too far, has not gone far enough, or is just right on the path from data to decision making.

Science in Use

All perspectives or theories of reading aim to provide teachers with a mental model of the processes we imagine students must build in the black box of their brains to read accurately, fluently, and with understanding. Educators can only use assessment data to plan instruction if they can attach data to an idea of what is, is not, or should be happening when students are reading. Researchers can only build theories and explanations if they can design studies of the actions and processes that resonate with a theoretical model of reading.

It is a case of whether one views evidence of reading development as programming reading ability into a brain from scratch, or organizing and refining a student's emerging literacy processing system. Both perspectives could be considered brain‐based, both could be considered evidence‐based, and both are used to inform effective interventions.

The wholesale rejection of anything related to three cueing systems, multiple cues, or MSV is reductive because it includes ideas and principles that have a preponderance of evidence for effectiveness along with those that have no evidence at all. This is a perfect example of a telephone game with multiple callers on the line whose messages get crossed, confused, and reduced.

As imaging techniques improved and became more accessible and accurate, the use of static and functional imaging shaped and reshaped how we understand reading processes as relating to certain locations in the brain, dependent on certain organizations and patterns of activation, and different before and after instruction and intervention.

Productive evolution is distinguished by the ability to communicate a concept and its relationship to other concepts with greater clarity and accuracy than previous terms.

a survey of teachers and teacher educators identified a wide range of understandings of what “balanced literacy” means. Specifically, there were substantial differences in what people thought was being balanced: fiction versus nonfiction, whole‐group versus small‐group, phonics versus whole language, teacher‐directed versus student‐directed.

Archaeology of Terms One of the challenges of engaging with research across fields, disciplines, decades, and researchers is understanding and connecting the language used. Nuanced differences in how people understand specific terms can often stoke debates where none are necessary.

However, the ways that teachers systematically investigate questions by generating and grappling with evidence in rapid cycles of shared inquiry could be viewed as an applied science with the potential to produce a science for teaching reading rather than only a science of reading (in a lab). Inspired by improvement science, this emphasis on problem‐specific, user‐centered inquiry has the potential to promote greater synergy between practical, theoretical, and experimental knowledge (Institute for Education Sciences, 2017), but it requires coordination, collaboration, and a common language for thinking and talking about instructional practices.

On the one hand, in the education context, teachers are most often portrayed as unknowing, unempowered, and lacking in both the knowledge and the resources to do their job well (e.g., Edling, 2015). On the other hand, many (but not all) popular trade books about reading are written by men who are cognitive scientists with no classroom experience or experience researching in classrooms. Their cognitive science credentials are viewed as evidence of expertise and authority. Meanwhile, many (but not all) popular practitioner books are written by women about direct or personal knowledge from classroom experience. These women are often known by their first names despite PhDs and decades of experience. Still, their theoretical and practical knowledge is trumped by the implicit authority of clinical knowledge from the hard sciences (see VanLandingham, 2014). Therefore, hierarchies of both gender and science are at play in discussions about the science(s) of reading. Whether or not they use or share it systematically, teachers generate, analyze, synthesize, and use data daily in both formal and informal ways. However, their understandings of teaching and learning are frequently questioned and belittled. Calls for professional development often focus on training and retraining focused on basic content knowledge rather than ways of generating and sharing knowledge from practice. Like students, teachers are often positioned as not‐knowing and needing to be taught rather than knowing, doing, and needing to systematically improve.

Authority and Expertise

individuals may have to weigh evidence from experience, research on practice in the field, and research from laboratory experiments when considering whether there is good evidence

Understanding differences in how research evidence is used can help us understand why two organizations, both of which claim to represent science, so often disagree.