Tuesday, November 17, 2009
dealin' in the D.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Ohhh, the things we learn in tech class...
Thursday, September 24, 2009
blog it up.
My methods instructor began our class on Tuesday with journal prompts. I needed to tae the quote below and explain what it had to do with teaching English; since I have been mulling over the purpose of teaching English as a high school subject I picked this prompt and the words overflowed:
“To speak of mere words is much like speaking of mere dynamite.”
Neither exists, mere words nor mere dynamite. (They could exist merely but they would not be worth much, if anything.) Dynamite is nothing except for its power, and the same goes with words. When we teach English, we teach students the power of words—their power to communicate, to bring forth emotion, to encourage, to wound, to inspire, to defeat, to manipulate, to relate to or with people, to connect, to ruin. As teachers, we do not merely teach words or the order of words or the interpretation of words, but how to use them to the benefit or harm of people, to the growth or atrophy of society.
Would kids be as disengaged as I have witnessed if this is what we communicated as the goal/philosophy/adventure/purpose of teaching and learning English?
Thursday, September 17, 2009
why oh why?
Thursday, August 27, 2009
deep stuff.
I've been thinking about what I was going to blog about for the past three weeks. It would cross my mind at least once a day, but for some reason I could not bring myself to write it. I finally recognized that I was putting immense pressure on myself to write something "worthwhile." I want my posts to be "perfect" or "controversial" or "thought-provoking." I put these things in quotation marks because my definition of these terms are based on other people's opinions. If I can get a reaction or get affirmation from a person then my writing is worth something. I fail to realize that my writing has inherent value simply because I wrote it. I know much of my procrastination comes from a lack of confidence in my abilities and the fear of how people react. Will I, can I, earn my professor's/ classmate's approval? Reflecting on these debilitating thoughts, I began to see a connection between myself and the Alfie Kohn article that was assigned in Diversity class.
Alfie talks about the effects of condition teaching and conditional love. I definitely connected with Kohn's writing; I wept after reading the first two pages. That's me, I kept thinking to myself, I'm the effects of conditional love he describes. I am the student that learns that my, "worth hinges on [my] performance." I was always the overachiever, striving for affection and affirmation through my educative performance. I did not feel like there was room for mistakes because making one may risk the loss of approval, or even deeper than that, a loss of love. School was not a safe environment in which I could learn by taking risks, hence to this day, I hesitate before performing an assignment, the pressure of performance heavy upon my back. (I do not blame my school for all of these effects, sometimes I wouldn't even allow an opportunity for my teachers to show me unconditional love).
My personal experience leads me to agree with Kohn's pleas for the practice of unconditional teaching. I see the importance of creating a safe learning environment for my future students, one in which they are sure of my love and approval of them and sure of how precious they are despite or in spite of their performance. I also understand how difficult this is to live out. Last week I volunteered at my church's Vacation Bible School; my job was to lead and teach the 12-13 year-olds throughout the nights. OH MY GOSH. Each night ended with exhaustion and frustration. My best friend who was helping me out wanted to walk out on the students the last day because of their behavior. There were two particular students that would not stop fighting, verbally and physically, and the rest of the group was very talkative. They just did not want to hear what we had to say. But I knew I was called to love them unconditionally. In my heart, I felt love for them. But I don't necessarily know if my actions showed this; I mean, I showed up every day despite the frustration I had felt the night before, so that had to count for something.
The last night we had a little celebration and we were supposed to choose five students out of our group to receive backpacks for their good behavior, attendance, and memorization of three verses. I was SO conflicted. I knew in my heart that this would not convey unconditional love to my students. One of the children that was causing most of the trouble turned around from where he sat and asked me to please choose him. I told him it was for the kids that behaved the best and asked him if he thought he deserved it. He turned away from me in anger and didn't talk to me the rest of the night. Another girl who was very well-behaved but who didn't receive one because she missed one of the days was crying. I think it was very hard for my kids to discern my love for them despite their lack of a backpack. And these are kids that NEED a backpack. I verbally expressed my care and love for those who did not receive one but did they believe me? Giving of rewards for behavior may express that love is earned. I don't know how to handle that.
I guess this will come from practice. As a teacher, I need to unconditionally love myself by giving myself room to fail and learn and try again. What scares me, though, is the question: how will my failure affect the students that I teach? How do teachers cope with this?