In the aquatic science class at W.T. White High School, juniors and seniors aren’t just learning about water chemistry and physics—they’re publishing reports about their own experiments. For aquatic science and integrated physics and chemistry teacher Sarah Novoseletsky, writing isn’t an add-on to science; it’s a core part of how students learn and see themselves.
The idea reaches back to Novoseletsky’s own childhood in Colorado.
“The fourth-grade class at my old school made a book about our hometown,” Novoseletsky recalled. “I still have it, and it’s fun looking back at what my classmates wrote. It’s just memorable.”
Years later, when Novoseletsky saw an online advertisement for Studentreasure, a student publishing program, that memory resurfaced—and turned into action.
“I thought, ‘Oh, this is really cool,’” she said. “It’s something that gives students more writing practice and teaches them to edit—it just gets them more interested in writing and literacy.”
The students in Novoseletsky’s aquatic and physics class begin the research process months before any actual writing happens. Around October, students set up the fish tank and learn water chemistry, properties of water, and the nitrogen cycle.
During this initial phase, Novoseletsky encourages her students to keep binders filled with notes, questions, and short written responses connected to the aquarium and related concepts. Only later do these become the raw material for their book chapters.
“I tried to center everything we did in the first semester around the aquarium,” Novoseletsky explained. “When we came back for the second semester, we picked our topics and wrote our paragraphs. It was a review, too; they had to go back, look at what they wrote, and relearn it.”
Rather than simply assigning topics, Novoseletsky has the whole class do the full range of work—and then lets them choose what to “master and perfect” for publication.
“We do the work, and then I give them a sign-up sheet so they can choose the paragraph they want to master, perfect, and put into the book,” she said. “We complete the project, and then we do the ‘perfection writing’ for the book at the end.”
The result is a collaborative book that reads like a guided tour through the classes’ learning journey—from cohesion and water chemistry to nitrogen cycles and motion graphs.
Of course, like many classroom projects, this one doesn’t always start smoothly.
“The first group I did this with were sixth graders at Piedmont Global Academy, where I taught for six years,” Novoseletsky said. “The children were like, ‘Why do we have to do this? This is silly.’”
Back then, students didn’t have Chromebooks, which meant that every piece had to be handwritten and often rewritten. Students revised multiple drafts, and Novoseletsky spent hours before school helping them catch up and refine their work.
At times, the process felt grueling, but when the printed books finally arrived, attitudes changed in an instant.
“I held up my sixth graders on their way out the door and asked, ‘What came today?’ Their eyes grew wide, and they all came running over, wanting to look at their work,” she said. “They were like, ‘Oh, okay, so this really was cool after all—we just didn’t want to admit it.’”
High school students may act similarly unimpressed, but Novoseletsky reads their reactions differently.
“High schoolers are always so nonchalant about it. They’re like, ‘Okay, yeah, whatever, miss.’ But then they all want to see their work in the book,” she said.
When it dawns on students that their writing and illustrations will be bound and shared, they set out to raise the standard for their own work.
“They want their work to look nice,” Novoseletsky noted. “For instance, when students realize their colored-pencil drawings don’t scan well, they are always willing to go back over them with markers to finish them.”
Because many of Novoseletsky’s students are English learners and newcomers, she designs the writing process to support them with structure, not overwhelm them with open-ended tasks.
“I have a lot of ESL students in my class, so I use sentence stems to help them write,” she said. “After we do a few together on the board and brainstorm ideas off to the side, they have the foundation to fill in the paragraphs on their own.”
Once Novoseletsky receives a copy of the printed book, she has each student read his or her contribution aloud to the class. This, she said, builds a classroom culture where risk-taking with language feels safe.
“I try to read Spanish every now and then, and they all laugh at me,” she said. “I tell them, ‘If I can stand up here and embarrass myself trying to read Spanish, you can try to read in English.’ We’re all in the same boat.”
Over time, she sees their confidence grow.
“It’s a lot of extra work, but it’s rewarding because I see their confidence building,” she said. “They start doing the work, they think to do it more on their own, and they simply try harder.”
Yet, for Novoseletsky, the books are more than a product; they’re a reflection of her entire philosophy of teaching.
“I want them to remember that science class is fun and exciting,” she said. “That’s the biggest thing—having fun in science and learning through hands-on, interdisciplinary projects.”