final reflection

WHO I WAS

Student teaching was probably the most stressful event of my life.

Not moving from Rhode Island, a state with a population of 1 million-plus, to South Dakota, where cows outnumber people. Not navigating my way through college courses AGAIN, after a five-year gap of unfulfilled, stale dreams at the family business.

Teaching. 

This past spring, when I entered the classroom in the Providence school where I would be teaching a senior section of British literature, I did not know what I was getting into. Sure, I knew the bones of teaching -- the stuff gleaned from classes over the past two years in RIC’s MAT program. I had read Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein before, and I had almost-kind of finished 1984 when I was a senior in high school. I knew that social justice would have to be “factored in” when it came to designing my lessons, units, questions… I had the formula, right?

But what I didn’t know, is how physically, mentally, and spiritually exhausted I was going to be.

I didn’t know the cost. That formula alone was not going to see me through.

In fact, the moments I felt least drained? Were the ones where I left behind the formula. The to-do list, the “did you do xyz with the abc?” itching at the back of my mind. Perfectionism at its worst dehumanizes us. At its best, we present as reliable. Compliant. Obedient. “Good girl.” Well, all of that didn’t help me the day I decided to ask my students what they thought of where the class was heading, and they told me there seemed to be a lot of homework and busy work. I cried and had to leave the room.

The community I thought we were, was more broken than I thought. Only I was the one breaking it up.

**

WHAT I BELIEVE

demystify tools

transforming action and truth

the glass is breaking

The question that Kelly Reed posed to us during her presentation -- “Is it more important for students to know plot and content, or be able to decode and analyze complex texts?” -- is one I always struggled with during my teaching experience. The truth was, I didn’t want to start with the books and work my way out of them into the lives of my students. I wanted to start with the students themselves, and work our way into the texts together, pulling them apart, taking a closer look. A magnifying glass that doubled as a mirror. 

I believe that students and people learn best when they believe they are important members of a community and that what they create -- words, images, papers, presentations, contributions to class dialogue, the rearranging of a desk -- matters. 

But how do you fit the messiness of community, connection, conversation, into an already existing curriculum that is running on a timeline? I mean, there was a time I wrote poems like this on my teaching beliefs...

I am a teacher who does not seek

straight-backed rows of tucked in selves

and compliance, but freedom

clanging like bells mirrored in

my students' eyes and laughter, only

their chimes are louder. Fire

sharpened and kindled

on the lives of one another, creating

a new, better world, where love

is possible, not dampened by the weight

of fill-in-the-blank dots 

and their own ellipses of quiet and pain.

… but then stuck my students in rows, gave them quizzes, and requested over and over again for them to be quiet. In fact, once I spent TWO class periods talking about grade culture… and then got on their cases about making sure to hand in the final assignment on time because I was leaving soon and, you know, grades! I was the very thing I wrote against: “each individual is brimming with flame, no matter what the media / politicians, the neighbors / even the families might say / to strike that spark / out, rub it from the book like ink / whittled away to ash, ghost.” (HINT: I was the politicians/neighbors/families in this scenario.)

I felt like Moana, caught in the voices of the external instructing me on how these fourteen weeks should go, and the voice calling me out to the ocean. 

In recognizing that I could have, and should have, dared a bit more, taken more time with my students… listened less to the “rules” and more to the “what ifs,” the past week has forced me to a) take responsibility and b) critically think about what the next step is. If Sir Ken Robinson says that “Death Valley isn’t dead, just dormant” regarding students, the same has to be true for teachers too, right?

**

THE PROJECT

“It’s all about the people, as with all good things in life,” Troy Hicks told us during the 2018 RI Writing Project conference, which was all about technology and digital literacy in the classroom. I believe too that when we stop limiting people as “created” -- receptacles, ready-made for us to info-dump our teaching “stuff” into -- and invite them to the table as “creators,” not only does learning happen, but LIFE happens. And yes, that life may be chaotic -- as Sherry Turkle says, “Human relationships are rich; they are messy and demanding” -- but it is, and they are, rewarding despite the complexity. 

One of the major ways I want to encourage all the creators in my classroom to this proverbial table is by shifting written expression from an exchange between one student and myself, to an exchange that happens between all of us… in the blogosphere. For me, a blog would act as a “hub” for resources, materials, important class information, schedule changes, and can even operate as a weekly newsletter for parents. For students, the blog would replace the traditional essay. I want students to recognize that what they write is so important -- their words matter, and should be shared. So many of my students this past spring had incredible, thought-provoking ideas that were only seen by me. They need to see and know they are not alone! And writing does not have to be paragraph by paragraph -- a blog format takes power from the strict five paragraph essay and returns it to the students.

A blog sets the stage for action; as Christensen writes, asking questions like “Who could they teach about what they had learned? [...] Who could their analysis tough enough to bring about real change?” takes writing to another level. And to help them organize their thoughts, I would introduce Padlet as a tool for us to collaborate on prompts, notes from class, visuals we find interesting or relevant or funny… nothing we do in class should be so structured and scheduled in that it becomes still, stagnant. Information and connections are always flowing, sometimes at lightning speed. Sometimes an idea hits you in the middle of the night and you just have to communicate it in some way, shape, or form to the world, but how are you going to do that? Where does it fit in? Padlet can help students organize their thoughts into different modes of media that makes sense to them. And better yet, it might help others out in class who are struggling with the same exact thing.

A third idea I have to inspire and build upon community in the classroom -- to step away from the administrative, routine mentality of “here you are, in rows, I am here, at the front, let me pour my vast array of knowledge into you…” -- I would encourage students to establish a place for themselves and their lives on a class Instagram. We have all seen and followed teacher created Instagram pages. What about a student generated page? 

The possibilities are big here. They can use it as a tool to engage critically with content from class. They can use it to showcase their work in meaningful ways for bigger audiences. Instagram is in many ways like a photo-blog. They can take it outside the classroom, to their personal lives -- how school intersects with what’s happening at home, at work, during sports… I’ve had students who have wanted to sell brownies to raise funds for college, or advertise their own clothing collection that they designed. That’s something a class Instagram could be used for! The sharing of interests, passions, beliefs in meaningful dialogue.

As Michael Wesch and others have observed, “Students -- our most important critics -- are struggling to find meaning and significance in their education [...] When students recognize their own importance in helping to shape the future of this increasingly global, interconnected society, the significance problem fades away.” 

My end goal is not the digital tools, but the idea that students belong and have a place on this earth. And I want to be more intentional with the way I communicate that belief by challenging them, challenging myself, to break out of the single student - teacher mode, to more of a team mentality, where we can learn from each other. I want to step out of the technocrat/techno-traditionalist “mode” and start moving -- even slowly -- toward techno-constructivist in the creation and implementation of lessons, activities, and flow of the classroom atmosphere.

Really, I want to be the teacher I thought I was when I closed out my poem (which can be found entirely here, at another blog), and now, more.

I am a teacher who says, we will not settle like vapor 

after a long night. So let us tell a new story,

where these hurts might exist, but do not last forever,

and we can pull our hands down from our faces

that some might have us hide

and despite the histories on our shoulders

we can look at each other the way,

perhaps, no one else does

in compassion and awe, our minds and mouths

full of language and understanding

that not all can be understood or unraveled,

but that, together, we are named

and perhaps afraid, but never 

alone.

**

Reflection Rubric here

Notes and additional links to project (all works in progress) here

Script for Pecha Kucha here