To Erika:
I agree with Amy that when it comes to the teaching traditions, it's not about either/or, but rather a matter of nuance. And as with most things in life, a well rounded approach is probably not a bad thing at all! I wonder, though, have you considered your underlying motivations for teaching? What made you want to do this with your life in the first place? Perhaps that would reveal a little more to you about which traditions have a stronger impact on you.
To Adair:
I too am looking to reviewing my video. I made one last week, but I haven't watched it yet. I think I may try to video a few other lessons as well in order to compare them. I also think that I may tend to exaggerate some things in my mind and overlook others. I'm a little nervous about it, but overall, I think it will be a really enlightening experience.
Sunday, February 23, 2014
Week 5 Reflections on Reflective Teaching
After reading chapter 5 on educational traditions, I certainly see a little of each of them seeping into my philosophy. Certainly, they are not mutually exclusive, oppositional forces, but instead a reflection of values, priorities, and approaches that should be able to interact with fluidity in all of our classrooms. Overall, though, I think I'm mostly a progressive spiritualist and as I see it, the two go indelibly hand in hand.
On page 55, the authors quote Vivian Gussin Paley as saying "The key is curiosity, and it is curiosity, not answers, that we model. As we seek to learn more about a child, we demonstrate the acts of observation, listening, questioning, and wondering." They go on to quote Eleanor Duckworth to say "Certainly the material world is too diverse and too complex for a child to become familiar with all of it in the course of an elementary school career. The best one can do is to make such knowledge, such familiarity, seem interesting and accessible to the child." Taken together, these two quotes summarize my intellectual perspective on my role as a teacher rather succinctly. In this information intense, conceptual age, if we view our job as simply filling vessels, we are surely doomed to failure. But if we understand ourselves as stewards of wonder, curiosity, self-confidence, and the unquenchable thirst for knowledge, we must speak directly to the human hearts of each individual student. And it is here that, for me, the spiritual comes into play.
On page 71 the authors ask "What makes an educational experience sacred - what gives it spiritual dimensions?" What an amazing question! And one which I will be pondering for a long time to come. I think, ultimately though, a sacred learning experience has to contain personal meaning and transformation. The question is, how do we facilitate transformation? How do we know that it's occurring? To bring my thinking around full circle, I think it begins by placing the student and their humanity at the center of the process; by regarding them as a credible and valuable source of knowledge of and for themselves and the whole learning community.
On page 55, the authors quote Vivian Gussin Paley as saying "The key is curiosity, and it is curiosity, not answers, that we model. As we seek to learn more about a child, we demonstrate the acts of observation, listening, questioning, and wondering." They go on to quote Eleanor Duckworth to say "Certainly the material world is too diverse and too complex for a child to become familiar with all of it in the course of an elementary school career. The best one can do is to make such knowledge, such familiarity, seem interesting and accessible to the child." Taken together, these two quotes summarize my intellectual perspective on my role as a teacher rather succinctly. In this information intense, conceptual age, if we view our job as simply filling vessels, we are surely doomed to failure. But if we understand ourselves as stewards of wonder, curiosity, self-confidence, and the unquenchable thirst for knowledge, we must speak directly to the human hearts of each individual student. And it is here that, for me, the spiritual comes into play.
On page 71 the authors ask "What makes an educational experience sacred - what gives it spiritual dimensions?" What an amazing question! And one which I will be pondering for a long time to come. I think, ultimately though, a sacred learning experience has to contain personal meaning and transformation. The question is, how do we facilitate transformation? How do we know that it's occurring? To bring my thinking around full circle, I think it begins by placing the student and their humanity at the center of the process; by regarding them as a credible and valuable source of knowledge of and for themselves and the whole learning community.
Sunday, February 16, 2014
Week Four Peer Responses
To Katie:
Firstly, I love this image. The water is so beautifully rendered and there's something so tender and serene about it. It's interesting that both you and I immediately thought of a ripple effect, of starting something that carries on into the future. I think this is why many of us teach. I noticed that several people referenced a journey or an exploration. I too think this is an apt metaphor, but for me it's more of a journey inward, continually reflecting and refining myself, growing stronger and more solid at my core. In any case, there's no doubt that teaching is a journey, destination unknown.
To Livey:
Love the mermaid! I'm seeing her as you, gently releasing little bubbles that bounce and waft and rise to the surface. Just lovely!
To Erika:
I love the blurry haziness of the piece and the mesmerizing luminosity, I agree with the others that its more enticing than ominous, but then again, nothing entices me more than a little mystery. I know that several people, especially us newbies, alluded to the idea of a journey or an exploration. It certainly feels like that. There's excitement, trepidation, hope, ambition...you hope you packed everything you will need. I love this metaphor though, because if you did take off without something essential, the rich, fertile jungle will surely provide.
Firstly, I love this image. The water is so beautifully rendered and there's something so tender and serene about it. It's interesting that both you and I immediately thought of a ripple effect, of starting something that carries on into the future. I think this is why many of us teach. I noticed that several people referenced a journey or an exploration. I too think this is an apt metaphor, but for me it's more of a journey inward, continually reflecting and refining myself, growing stronger and more solid at my core. In any case, there's no doubt that teaching is a journey, destination unknown.
To Livey:
Love the mermaid! I'm seeing her as you, gently releasing little bubbles that bounce and waft and rise to the surface. Just lovely!
To Erika:
I love the blurry haziness of the piece and the mesmerizing luminosity, I agree with the others that its more enticing than ominous, but then again, nothing entices me more than a little mystery. I know that several people, especially us newbies, alluded to the idea of a journey or an exploration. It certainly feels like that. There's excitement, trepidation, hope, ambition...you hope you packed everything you will need. I love this metaphor though, because if you did take off without something essential, the rich, fertile jungle will surely provide.
Week Four: Visual Metaphor
When I read this assignment,
immediately I knew I wanted to create something with a center point
that radiates outward to symbolize my desire to be a center of peace
and calm in the chaotic sea of the classroom and the educational
environment at large. The metaphor I chose is a combination of
symbols I keep returning to for one reason or another. In this case,
it has to do with a goal of mine, which is to be more inside myself
and in the moment when I'm teaching. The piece I created, a set of
egg-shaped nesting vessels, is metaphoric on multiple levels. It
represents the infinite journey inward, a path that I am on as well
as one I hope to lead my students down. The egg is significant
because, contained within is an infinity of successive generations,
yet it is so beautifully singular. It opens and what's inside takes
on a life of its own, combines with new experiences, and the cycle
starts over again. In part, I think this is why I teach; to carry
something forward into the future. Perhaps it sounds trite, but I
recently realized that ultimately, the real reason to teach is love.
Without it, all my theories are meaningless – knowledge without
wisdom, work without joy. The radiating eggs symbolizes faith,
renewal, and the love that nurtures all things. As I wrote in my
journal...“The journey inward expands ever outward. If what's
inside is nurtured it grows, breaks open, and another inward journey
begins. It's cyclical and the egg is the vertex, an infinite turning
point. All of the future is contained within the now, the moment.
And that's what I want. To be in the moment. To gaze into it and
see the possibilities.”This piece is made of hand built, air dry clay. Outer egg is approximately 6" x 4".
Thursday, February 13, 2014
Week 3 Reflective Teaching: Better Late than Never
Last week I shared a struggle I was having with one particular student in my homeschool group. A big thank you to Amy and Livvy for helping me "reframe" this problem; something I knew I needed to do, but just wasn't sure how. They helped me to step back from my own expectations and assumptions and let go of my own ego a little in order to relate to this kid where he is. I am happy to report that the situation seems to be improving already and all it took was a change of heart on my part. I was feeling so frustrated by the situation, I was finding it hard to have "love" for this kid. I felt like he was sabotaging all the things I worked so hard on and ruining things for the other students in the process. Feeling this way toward a student felt awful and I knew there must be more to the story. Stepping back, I was able to see his insecurities and how they were effecting his behavior. I was also able to admit that my own preconceptions about how I wanted him to approach his work were preventing me from allowing him to work from where he is right now.
"Reflective action is also a process that involves more than logical and rational problem-solving processes. Reflection involves intuition, emotion, and passion and is not something that can be neatly packaged as a set of techniques for teachers to use" (p. 10)
Essentially, reflection helped my to have a heart for this kid. And I can honestly say my feelings about him and the situation have transformed. Over the weekend, I was out and about browsing around a bookstore when I saw this Minecraft sticker in a dollar bin. Something stirred in my heart and I bought the sticker. Despite the fact that I hate what Minecraft has done to some children's creativity, I knew it was more important to show him I supported the things that he cares about and by proxy, that I think about and care about him. Worked like a charm. Who knew that stickers could be so powerful?
"We need to utilize both our heads and our hearts, our reasoning capacities and our emotional insights." (p. 10)
An important part of this equation involved me taking responsibility for the fact that I wasn't grasping and delivering what this student needs, rather than placing the blame all on him, his parents, society, etc. Despite the problems he may bring to the classroom with him, it's my job to ensure that he gets something out of this experience, so I had to step back, let go, and find a way.
I think my testimonial here provides a perfect answer to the question posed in chapter 2, "In your own experience as a teacher or prospective teacher, how important has the group context been on helping you to clarify and develop your beliefs?" Very important, obviously. I am so appreciative of this learning community. I just wish every teacher, everywhere could have this experience. What if?
"Reflective action is also a process that involves more than logical and rational problem-solving processes. Reflection involves intuition, emotion, and passion and is not something that can be neatly packaged as a set of techniques for teachers to use" (p. 10)
Essentially, reflection helped my to have a heart for this kid. And I can honestly say my feelings about him and the situation have transformed. Over the weekend, I was out and about browsing around a bookstore when I saw this Minecraft sticker in a dollar bin. Something stirred in my heart and I bought the sticker. Despite the fact that I hate what Minecraft has done to some children's creativity, I knew it was more important to show him I supported the things that he cares about and by proxy, that I think about and care about him. Worked like a charm. Who knew that stickers could be so powerful?
"We need to utilize both our heads and our hearts, our reasoning capacities and our emotional insights." (p. 10)
An important part of this equation involved me taking responsibility for the fact that I wasn't grasping and delivering what this student needs, rather than placing the blame all on him, his parents, society, etc. Despite the problems he may bring to the classroom with him, it's my job to ensure that he gets something out of this experience, so I had to step back, let go, and find a way.
I think my testimonial here provides a perfect answer to the question posed in chapter 2, "In your own experience as a teacher or prospective teacher, how important has the group context been on helping you to clarify and develop your beliefs?" Very important, obviously. I am so appreciative of this learning community. I just wish every teacher, everywhere could have this experience. What if?
Thursday, February 6, 2014
Week 2 Peer Responses
To Livey:
This whole article was so powerful for me too. "How can you rubric-ify their meanings that were created?" I mean, ideally students are creating meanings so authentic and original to them that we couldn't have predicted them anyway. Can our predictions and expectations of student learning actually limit what students learn by placing boundaries and confines around it? I think if we aren't cognizant of it, it can.
In response to what Amy was saying, I'm really on a quest to be my whole, authentic self with my students, but I think this takes a lot of courage and grace, especially as a young teacher. You're still just trying to figure out the nuts and bolts of classroom management and curriculum design. I often find myself feeling outside myself when I'm teacher, and this is something I'd like to change. Maybe I need some mindfulness training or a quick little meditation at the beginning of each class. I think if I could feel more grounded and inside myself, I would also feel more connected with the students.
To Adair:
I think it's all about reflection, trusting your intuition, and response. I think it's important that you are recognizing that this particular class of eight graders may need something different right now than some of your other classes. You can't be too prescriptive about your approach. You always have to be willing to flex and respond to the situation at hand. What works? How will these particular students at this particular moment get the most meaningful experience out of this class? If they show you that they need more structure, then give them structure, but I would also say, don't let that structure limit students who want to explore deeper depths or greater heights. Can you provide structure and still allow for individual exploration, choice, and personal investment? I don't know, but I believe in you!
This whole article was so powerful for me too. "How can you rubric-ify their meanings that were created?" I mean, ideally students are creating meanings so authentic and original to them that we couldn't have predicted them anyway. Can our predictions and expectations of student learning actually limit what students learn by placing boundaries and confines around it? I think if we aren't cognizant of it, it can.
In response to what Amy was saying, I'm really on a quest to be my whole, authentic self with my students, but I think this takes a lot of courage and grace, especially as a young teacher. You're still just trying to figure out the nuts and bolts of classroom management and curriculum design. I often find myself feeling outside myself when I'm teacher, and this is something I'd like to change. Maybe I need some mindfulness training or a quick little meditation at the beginning of each class. I think if I could feel more grounded and inside myself, I would also feel more connected with the students.
To Adair:
I think it's all about reflection, trusting your intuition, and response. I think it's important that you are recognizing that this particular class of eight graders may need something different right now than some of your other classes. You can't be too prescriptive about your approach. You always have to be willing to flex and respond to the situation at hand. What works? How will these particular students at this particular moment get the most meaningful experience out of this class? If they show you that they need more structure, then give them structure, but I would also say, don't let that structure limit students who want to explore deeper depths or greater heights. Can you provide structure and still allow for individual exploration, choice, and personal investment? I don't know, but I believe in you!
Saturday, February 1, 2014
Week 2 Reflections
Reflecting on Palmer: Behind the Teacher
Wow. This chapter cut right to the quick. Where do I even begin?...
Palmer's words began to resonate with me right away by highlighting the juxtaposition of original inquiry vs. the imitation of authority and collaboration vs. competition in our educational environments. Once again, I am reminded that our espoused societal values are not reflected in our practices when you really take a closer look at our educational system. We have fostered a competitive environment built for the replication of the status quo rather than a collaborative one which seeks to honor diversity in and of individuals in order to generate new knowledge, connections, and combinations. We like to say that we value innovation and collaboration in society and in our workplaces, but it is not reflected in our learning environments, the vary place where culture is shaped. In reality, we have a sort of mono-theistic, trickle down theory of teaching which doesn't respect the community of learners or consider it a reputable source of information and knowledge. Without knowing it, this system invalidates the self as a source of truth and understanding. The classroom community has become as blacklisted as Wikipedia.
As the author points out, we live in a time and culture that is disproportionately obsessed with empirical knowledge and cold, objective facts. The 19th century brought us the golden age of enlightenment and reason and many thinkers of that time believed that if given time, the scientifc method would reveal absolutely everything there is to know about the universe. We are now beginning to understand that reality is more nuanced than that. That "truth is not a statement about reality, but a living relationship between ourselves and the world".(Palmer) While empirical, objective, scientific knowledge certainly has an important place in our quest for greater understanding and truth, I believe that there are many ways of knowing; different lenses we might look through. The true seeker - the authentic student - should be practiced and comfortable with many ways of knowing, many paths of inquiry, many prisms (ping Livey) to cast light through, and possess the grace and agility to identify contexts and know how to use them. To do this, we need to "locate and understand the self" in relationship to information, not remove the self from the process entirely. "If we believe that knowing is a process in which subjective and objective interact, we would create a different kind of education. Students and subjects would meet in ways that allow our passions to be tempered by facts, and the facts to be warmed up, made fit for human habitation, by passions. In this kind of education we would not merely know the world. We ourselves, our inner secrets, would become known; we would be brought into the community of mutual knowing called truth." (my god, that's beautiful.)
The trickle down system not only turns truth into a distant other not to be found within the self or in the co-created space of the classroom, but sets learners against each other in competition. This is why so many students care so much about the carrot, they can't even see the stick; so much about the destination, they are completely oblivious to the journey. Yet, more startlingly "We [learn to] become manipulators of each other and the world, rather than mutually responsible participants and co-creators".
Here's where it gets personal for me. Right in the middle of reading this article, I had to stop and admit to myself that lately, I have forfeited the privilege of reflection and inner work to the chaos of pursuit and competition. And while I know there is a season for all things, I'm asking myself, what can I take off my plate? What can I do to simplify my life in order to make space for this essential, nourishing process. I need to "take a backseat to peace" as my husband would chidingly say.
It's in this spirit that I am trying to reflect on how to deal with a difficult student and I would greatly appreciate the feedback of my peers and respected teachers. Each week I teach a small group of homeschooling children at the Art League. In my middle school aged group I have one boy who continues to be very disruptive and difficult, sometimes even crossing the line into disrespectful, both to me and to other students. I think he considers himself something of a class clown, so I don't think there's anything malicious in it, but he'll do just about anything for a joke and to disrupt or derail the class. In a typical classroom environment, I think a lot of this kid's behaviors would just be ignored, which is probably for the best. You don't want to give this kind of negative attention seeking any validation. But there are only 4 students in this class. His disruptions are glaring and difficult to recover from. But perhaps even more frustratingly for me, he seems absolutely reticent about not taking his work seriously or applying himself in any way. As a homeschooling student, I don't think he has much structure in his day to day routine (I've asked him what a normal day looks like and he says he normally just plays Minecraft. What?!), so I don't think he's often pushed to do much of anything new or challenging. He seems behind his peers in other fundamental areas as well, such as reading, writing, and math, but I have not been made aware of any specific "learning disability". Now, my initial response to all this has been frustration, anxiety, blaming the student/parent/society/sugar/Minecraft (anyone but myself), and my impulse has been to try to coerce or force him into caring about his work and engaging meaningfully in a process. I recognize, of course, that this is an absurd contradiction and an impossible task. You can't force or coerce someone to care. All of this was on my mind as I was reading this article, and suddenly it occurred to me - be water. Just flow. Stop trying so hard to control and manipulate this situation. In a sense, I've decided to "take the risk of not speaking, of creating tension and embarrassment in a setting where [the teacher] is supposed to fill the air with authoritative words". I simply refuse to spend all my time and energy combating this one student when there are other students who are hungry for this experience and are getting seriously short changed.
I think what I need to say to him is, "I really, genuinely want you to get something out of this experience. I want you to make something you care about and that you can be really proud of. (this is true from the bottom of my heart) But I can't force you to do that. I can only give you the opportunity and my guidance, both of which are right in front of you. I want you to have that experience, of creating something amazing, because I know how good it feels. It's just awesome. So much more satisfying than cracking jokes and scoring a laugh. In my own work, I push myself to do my absolute best, because I don't want to bother with anything I'm not proud of, but I have to accept that this is about your work. It's not my work. I can let that go and accept that you may not care about your own work that much and maybe you're not ready to push yourself, but what I can't do is allow you to prevent others from doing their best work. So your choices are to participate fully and with sincerity, or to sit quietly and separately so that others can work. Those are your options and that's it."
What I'm trying to figure out is , how do I take a student who is unwilling to learn, and engage "their willingness to seek transforming knowledge"? How do I lead them into that "deep desert of silence" when they won't even sit still or settle down long enough to do a simple sketch or participate in a conversation about anything other than video games? What does this student need? What has made them so disengaged and unfocused and what can I do to change it? If I can not change it with what little space I occupy within their life, how do I respond in order to remain true to myself and protect the others' right to a rich and meaningful experience in a safe environment?
I would really appreciate some sage advice from the group. I have the highest respect for your thinking (all of you), so please, share your wisdom. I desperately want to make a difference for this student, and I certainly don't want to dread teaching him each week. Am I on the right track? Thoughts?
Reflections on Marzano
Answering these authentically was difficult for me because I don't have a regular classroom setting yet. I tried to filter them through what I teach at the Art League, but the questions aren't really designed for those kind of encounters. Often I only see a group of students one time. It's hit and run art making. Or maybe I see them for an hour, once a month, but we aren't really building lesson upon lesson. I teach in isolated incidents, so some of these questions just weren't applicable to my actual practice. It was a little frustrating trying to fit a square peg in a round hole, so I thought I would just try to look for a sense of meaning in the scales and the questions overall, and reflect on what they mean for me as a possible future teacher in a more traditional environment.
My initial gut reaction to Marzano was a bit overwhelming. All the scales and rubrics and checklists...it just feels unnatural, inorganic, and stilted to me. Yet, when you dig into it, there are some real, useful, practical strategies to be gleaned. Making an effort to state the learning goals and expectations clearly and repeat them often is something I often take for granted. I tend to assume that once we've discussed a concept at length, looked at exemplars, done a demo, etc., that students understand what I want. But they may not. I think it's helpful for me to have to force myself to simplify and state succinctly what it actually is that I want them to learn. If it's at all nebulous for me, it's unlikely that it's clear to students.
Surprisingly, I think I often overlook any formal effort at acknowledging success. I know that I give lots of encouragement, but am I really doing anything special? Considering that I don't have the ability to give grades or formal assessments which may be an opportunity to acknowledge or reinforce that someone has done well, I may need to devise some creative, alternative ways to celebrate success.
I felt I was pretty strong in helping students elaborate on new information. I don't know if I would say that I'm innovating, but perhaps because of my VTS training it feels natural and intuitive for me to ask students to elaborate on their inferences.
In lots of areas, I feel like I'm pretty much just fair to middlin', which, I guess as a young teacher shouldn't surprise me. What did surprise me is that after taking a closer look these scales, which were kind of dizzying at first glance, I feel like these are really high, excellent standards to hold oneself to if you don't get too caught up in the minutia and just ask yourself if your really employing as many of these strategies as possible to support student learning.
Wow. This chapter cut right to the quick. Where do I even begin?...
Palmer's words began to resonate with me right away by highlighting the juxtaposition of original inquiry vs. the imitation of authority and collaboration vs. competition in our educational environments. Once again, I am reminded that our espoused societal values are not reflected in our practices when you really take a closer look at our educational system. We have fostered a competitive environment built for the replication of the status quo rather than a collaborative one which seeks to honor diversity in and of individuals in order to generate new knowledge, connections, and combinations. We like to say that we value innovation and collaboration in society and in our workplaces, but it is not reflected in our learning environments, the vary place where culture is shaped. In reality, we have a sort of mono-theistic, trickle down theory of teaching which doesn't respect the community of learners or consider it a reputable source of information and knowledge. Without knowing it, this system invalidates the self as a source of truth and understanding. The classroom community has become as blacklisted as Wikipedia.
As the author points out, we live in a time and culture that is disproportionately obsessed with empirical knowledge and cold, objective facts. The 19th century brought us the golden age of enlightenment and reason and many thinkers of that time believed that if given time, the scientifc method would reveal absolutely everything there is to know about the universe. We are now beginning to understand that reality is more nuanced than that. That "truth is not a statement about reality, but a living relationship between ourselves and the world".(Palmer) While empirical, objective, scientific knowledge certainly has an important place in our quest for greater understanding and truth, I believe that there are many ways of knowing; different lenses we might look through. The true seeker - the authentic student - should be practiced and comfortable with many ways of knowing, many paths of inquiry, many prisms (ping Livey) to cast light through, and possess the grace and agility to identify contexts and know how to use them. To do this, we need to "locate and understand the self" in relationship to information, not remove the self from the process entirely. "If we believe that knowing is a process in which subjective and objective interact, we would create a different kind of education. Students and subjects would meet in ways that allow our passions to be tempered by facts, and the facts to be warmed up, made fit for human habitation, by passions. In this kind of education we would not merely know the world. We ourselves, our inner secrets, would become known; we would be brought into the community of mutual knowing called truth." (my god, that's beautiful.)
The trickle down system not only turns truth into a distant other not to be found within the self or in the co-created space of the classroom, but sets learners against each other in competition. This is why so many students care so much about the carrot, they can't even see the stick; so much about the destination, they are completely oblivious to the journey. Yet, more startlingly "We [learn to] become manipulators of each other and the world, rather than mutually responsible participants and co-creators".
Here's where it gets personal for me. Right in the middle of reading this article, I had to stop and admit to myself that lately, I have forfeited the privilege of reflection and inner work to the chaos of pursuit and competition. And while I know there is a season for all things, I'm asking myself, what can I take off my plate? What can I do to simplify my life in order to make space for this essential, nourishing process. I need to "take a backseat to peace" as my husband would chidingly say.
It's in this spirit that I am trying to reflect on how to deal with a difficult student and I would greatly appreciate the feedback of my peers and respected teachers. Each week I teach a small group of homeschooling children at the Art League. In my middle school aged group I have one boy who continues to be very disruptive and difficult, sometimes even crossing the line into disrespectful, both to me and to other students. I think he considers himself something of a class clown, so I don't think there's anything malicious in it, but he'll do just about anything for a joke and to disrupt or derail the class. In a typical classroom environment, I think a lot of this kid's behaviors would just be ignored, which is probably for the best. You don't want to give this kind of negative attention seeking any validation. But there are only 4 students in this class. His disruptions are glaring and difficult to recover from. But perhaps even more frustratingly for me, he seems absolutely reticent about not taking his work seriously or applying himself in any way. As a homeschooling student, I don't think he has much structure in his day to day routine (I've asked him what a normal day looks like and he says he normally just plays Minecraft. What?!), so I don't think he's often pushed to do much of anything new or challenging. He seems behind his peers in other fundamental areas as well, such as reading, writing, and math, but I have not been made aware of any specific "learning disability". Now, my initial response to all this has been frustration, anxiety, blaming the student/parent/society/sugar/Minecraft (anyone but myself), and my impulse has been to try to coerce or force him into caring about his work and engaging meaningfully in a process. I recognize, of course, that this is an absurd contradiction and an impossible task. You can't force or coerce someone to care. All of this was on my mind as I was reading this article, and suddenly it occurred to me - be water. Just flow. Stop trying so hard to control and manipulate this situation. In a sense, I've decided to "take the risk of not speaking, of creating tension and embarrassment in a setting where [the teacher] is supposed to fill the air with authoritative words". I simply refuse to spend all my time and energy combating this one student when there are other students who are hungry for this experience and are getting seriously short changed.
I think what I need to say to him is, "I really, genuinely want you to get something out of this experience. I want you to make something you care about and that you can be really proud of. (this is true from the bottom of my heart) But I can't force you to do that. I can only give you the opportunity and my guidance, both of which are right in front of you. I want you to have that experience, of creating something amazing, because I know how good it feels. It's just awesome. So much more satisfying than cracking jokes and scoring a laugh. In my own work, I push myself to do my absolute best, because I don't want to bother with anything I'm not proud of, but I have to accept that this is about your work. It's not my work. I can let that go and accept that you may not care about your own work that much and maybe you're not ready to push yourself, but what I can't do is allow you to prevent others from doing their best work. So your choices are to participate fully and with sincerity, or to sit quietly and separately so that others can work. Those are your options and that's it."
What I'm trying to figure out is , how do I take a student who is unwilling to learn, and engage "their willingness to seek transforming knowledge"? How do I lead them into that "deep desert of silence" when they won't even sit still or settle down long enough to do a simple sketch or participate in a conversation about anything other than video games? What does this student need? What has made them so disengaged and unfocused and what can I do to change it? If I can not change it with what little space I occupy within their life, how do I respond in order to remain true to myself and protect the others' right to a rich and meaningful experience in a safe environment?
I would really appreciate some sage advice from the group. I have the highest respect for your thinking (all of you), so please, share your wisdom. I desperately want to make a difference for this student, and I certainly don't want to dread teaching him each week. Am I on the right track? Thoughts?
Reflections on Marzano
Answering these authentically was difficult for me because I don't have a regular classroom setting yet. I tried to filter them through what I teach at the Art League, but the questions aren't really designed for those kind of encounters. Often I only see a group of students one time. It's hit and run art making. Or maybe I see them for an hour, once a month, but we aren't really building lesson upon lesson. I teach in isolated incidents, so some of these questions just weren't applicable to my actual practice. It was a little frustrating trying to fit a square peg in a round hole, so I thought I would just try to look for a sense of meaning in the scales and the questions overall, and reflect on what they mean for me as a possible future teacher in a more traditional environment.
My initial gut reaction to Marzano was a bit overwhelming. All the scales and rubrics and checklists...it just feels unnatural, inorganic, and stilted to me. Yet, when you dig into it, there are some real, useful, practical strategies to be gleaned. Making an effort to state the learning goals and expectations clearly and repeat them often is something I often take for granted. I tend to assume that once we've discussed a concept at length, looked at exemplars, done a demo, etc., that students understand what I want. But they may not. I think it's helpful for me to have to force myself to simplify and state succinctly what it actually is that I want them to learn. If it's at all nebulous for me, it's unlikely that it's clear to students.
Surprisingly, I think I often overlook any formal effort at acknowledging success. I know that I give lots of encouragement, but am I really doing anything special? Considering that I don't have the ability to give grades or formal assessments which may be an opportunity to acknowledge or reinforce that someone has done well, I may need to devise some creative, alternative ways to celebrate success.
I felt I was pretty strong in helping students elaborate on new information. I don't know if I would say that I'm innovating, but perhaps because of my VTS training it feels natural and intuitive for me to ask students to elaborate on their inferences.
In lots of areas, I feel like I'm pretty much just fair to middlin', which, I guess as a young teacher shouldn't surprise me. What did surprise me is that after taking a closer look these scales, which were kind of dizzying at first glance, I feel like these are really high, excellent standards to hold oneself to if you don't get too caught up in the minutia and just ask yourself if your really employing as many of these strategies as possible to support student learning.
Response to Slamme
Sorry I didn't post this here last week. I guess I didn't "get" that we were supposed to copy our responses here. Got it now though!
Hey Slamme! Great to be in cyberclass with you again! I, too, noticed that you interpreted the author as saying that great teachers have certain gifts or talents that they're just born with, but I do think (and desperately hope) that most of the things on this list can be cultivated through....well, reflection. (I wonder if that's why Amy had us read this article. She's so smart.)
I'm thinking you must be in agreement with me on this since you went so far as to assess yourself on each of these characteristics and make note of areas where you would like to see improvement. I'm sure all of us were doing the same thing, perhaps less formally, as we read the article. I know I was and I have to believe that if I'm not strong in one of these areas now, that I could improve through reflection and response. That being said, I think a passion for teaching and caring about your students is a basic pre-requisite. If that's not your priority, then it may not be worth your time and effort to try to cultivate the other characteristics and maybe teaching just isn't the job for you.
So in response to whackandsmack's question (sorry whackandsmack, I don't know who you actually are ;) ), I think it's always both. Predisposition and grooming. But either way, you have to have the will to evaluate yourself and improve. You have to care enough to want to. As long as you've got that going for you, I think you can become a better teacher. Much like talent in the arts...many people think it's just a gift you're either born with or you aren't. But we know that anyone can improve as an artist if they are willing to try. If they're encouraged along the way and reinforced with the notion that they have great potential, they are more likely self-identify with the role, which in turn fuels desire to improve. I feel so lucky in this program to have mentors who really see the potential in me and my fellow classmates. Kathy, for example, is particularly great at this. She immediately sniffs out your greatest strengths and constantly reinforces that you have the potential to be a fabulous teacher (and that you already are, in part because you're here and willing to grow in improve yourself for the sake of your students). As much as honest reflection is important, I think so is this kind of positive reinforcement and support.
Hey Slamme! Great to be in cyberclass with you again! I, too, noticed that you interpreted the author as saying that great teachers have certain gifts or talents that they're just born with, but I do think (and desperately hope) that most of the things on this list can be cultivated through....well, reflection. (I wonder if that's why Amy had us read this article. She's so smart.)
I'm thinking you must be in agreement with me on this since you went so far as to assess yourself on each of these characteristics and make note of areas where you would like to see improvement. I'm sure all of us were doing the same thing, perhaps less formally, as we read the article. I know I was and I have to believe that if I'm not strong in one of these areas now, that I could improve through reflection and response. That being said, I think a passion for teaching and caring about your students is a basic pre-requisite. If that's not your priority, then it may not be worth your time and effort to try to cultivate the other characteristics and maybe teaching just isn't the job for you.
So in response to whackandsmack's question (sorry whackandsmack, I don't know who you actually are ;) ), I think it's always both. Predisposition and grooming. But either way, you have to have the will to evaluate yourself and improve. You have to care enough to want to. As long as you've got that going for you, I think you can become a better teacher. Much like talent in the arts...many people think it's just a gift you're either born with or you aren't. But we know that anyone can improve as an artist if they are willing to try. If they're encouraged along the way and reinforced with the notion that they have great potential, they are more likely self-identify with the role, which in turn fuels desire to improve. I feel so lucky in this program to have mentors who really see the potential in me and my fellow classmates. Kathy, for example, is particularly great at this. She immediately sniffs out your greatest strengths and constantly reinforces that you have the potential to be a fabulous teacher (and that you already are, in part because you're here and willing to grow in improve yourself for the sake of your students). As much as honest reflection is important, I think so is this kind of positive reinforcement and support.
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