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Showing posts with label teaching. Show all posts
Showing posts with label teaching. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

My Teaching Philosophy

For my composition pedagogy class, I wrote the following teaching philosophy. It is my earliest draft of the teaching philosophy I will submit to community colleges in my job application packet next year. I'd love to hear any comments, especially from other teachers. What do you agree with? What do you do differently?

My freshman composition teacher returned our first essays with comments, a grade, and an appointment for a one-on-one consultation about my writing. The conversation at that appointment, about content, style, and grammar, was the single best experience I ever had with a writing teacher. We talked one-on-one, discussing my specific writing challenges and how I could improve; I shared my general academic goals and goals for my writing; and he showed me that I had an ally, a mentor I could rely on to help me learn academic writing. That conference exemplified individual and student-centered teaching and shaped my own teaching philosophy.

My vision of a student-centered class begins with my vision of the student. Just as John Holt saw himself as playing the cello, rather than learning to play the cello, I see each student as a writer, working on his writing, rather than someone who will only do “real writing” when he is finished learning. The students and I are peers, all adult writers, and we all bring knowledge to the classroom. I probably have more knowledge and experience about academic writing, but the students have other kinds of knowledge and experiences, equally valid and important. Vygotsky theorized that students can learn most effectively when teachers provide scaffolding to bridge the gap between the things they already know and do well and the things they are trying to learn. I use scaffolding in the form of encouragement, examples of excellent student writing, feedback on papers, and collaboration with more advanced peers, and I tailor the amount of support to each student’s individual needs and goals, strengths and weaknesses. I attempt to provide just the right amount of scaffolding for each student, aiming to keep them in Vygotsky’s zone of proximal development, not underestimating them and not pushing them beyond their current limits.

I envision my role in the classroom as a mentor and a guide. I have some expert knowledge about college writing from which they may benefit, and I have facilitation skills that can help them get the most out of class discussions and group activities. Depending on what the student needs, I am an active listener, a moderator of discussions, a coach, a resource, a critical reader, or a devil’s advocate. I agree with David Bartolomae that a part of my job is to initiate the students into “the peculiar ways of knowing, selecting, evaluating, reporting, concluding, and arguing that define the discourse of our [academic] community." I teach my students to translate their own thoughts into academic language and to read academic writing with understanding. I break down writing tasks into manageable pieces so that students experience success in this new discourse and learn to think of themselves as capable writers.

To keep the focus of the class on each student’s writing goals, I try to individualize assignments as often as possible, allowing students to do writing that is applicable to their interests, including writing for their churches, jobs, or social groups, writing for their chosen discipline, and writing about themselves and their experiences. Like Piaget, I am a constructivist and believe that students must build knowledge for themselves through research, conversation, and challenging the ideas of authority figures, including the teacher and the academy. They must learn writing, not by listening to me talk about writing or by reading about writing, but by actually writing. The focus of my classroom is on student learning, not on my teaching, so the majority of the class time is spent on discussions, in-class writing activities, individual writing conferences with me (especially early in the semester), and peer editing of at-home writing assignments. Because the individual student knows better than anyone what is relevant to him and what is or is not working for him, I take student feedback about class time and assignments very seriously. I have found that some of the best ideas for improving my teaching and for engaging the students more effectively have come from student suggestions. In one course, feedback from students allowed me to restructure my evaluation system in a more effective way.

My favored way to teach and to learn is in large group discussion. I love to talk and to listen to others and to argue about ideas, and I know many of my students do as well. However, because each of my students is important to me as an individual, I try to vary my classroom activities. Along with large group discussion, I include small group activities like peer editing, collaborative writing, and pre-writing conversations, which might appeal to more introverted students. For students who prefer to work alone and only share a finished product, I include individual in-class writing assignments and lectures with thought problems to be considered in class. I try to include some practical application in every class, whether it is a conversation applying the principles we learn to our own lives or a writing assignment practicing a new skill. I want the students to constantly apply their new knowledge, since I believe that only knowledge which is relevant to our lives is remembered and transferred to other settings.

Lisa Delpit has heavily influenced my ideas about students whose home language is not English or not the standard dialect of English. I see teaching Standard English as my duty as a writing teacher, but I am open with my students about the fact that non-standard dialects and other languages are not wrong. I use the home language of my students as a scaffold on which to build knowledge of Standard English, pointing out the similarities and differences. I want my students to be able to code-switch and to use Standard English in settings where it is appropriate, without losing the dialect or language that links them to their communities and families.

When I remember the effect that the conference with my freshman writing teacher had on me, how motivated I felt to improve my writing, how much better I understood my own strengths and weaknesses as a writer, how much support I felt in my struggle to learn academic discourse, I am inspired to make my own teaching as student-centered and individual as I possibly can. I hope to have the kind of profound effect on my students, their writing, and their entire academic experience as that professor had on me.

Monday, September 20, 2010

An Introspection and a New Action Plan

This post is gonna be more of a journal entry, but being all extroverted and completely without a sense of privacy, y'all get to read it! I want to write down my thoughts about a few school decisions, the relative importance of many of my values, and what I want to be when I grow up.

You can see my earlier thoughts about these issues and my values heirarchy here.

First, what started this whole fiasco/excellent change was Sunday afternoon. Livy was stir-crazy, the day was lovely, and I wanted to go to the park with Livy, Jenn, Brendan, Ryan, Morgan, and Sean. But I had homework to do. A lot of homework. So much homework that thinking about it made my lower eyelid twitch. And yet, seven year olds need to play at the park. And 31 year olds need to socialize with their friends. So there was a conflict. I decided to go to the park, but I felt completely guilty about leaving my homework undone. I had basically made this decision based on how much guilt I would feel, and there would have been more for preventing Livy from having a normal seven year old day.

Suddenly my mind exploded! What am I doing living life based on guilt, it thought? How on earth can I carry this on for years? How can I choose between my child and my work? Am I actually happy in this situation?

When I took time to introspect about what I was feeling (my pile of homework was too high for introspection!), I realized that I didn't feel like myself. I'm more of an Anne Shirley than a Dagny Taggart. I am not happy when almost all of my time and energy is devoted to one value. I know this about myself; I have long since accepted that I will never be the kind of person who pushes through misery to get to a goal. I don't like misery. I only do things that I can do happily.

I think I got caught up in the mood of graduate school. Most people have the attitude that you work night and day, give up other values, and when you come out on the other side, you can start living your life and being happy. I got sucked into the ambition and the competitiveness. I wanted to take lots of classes cause I am a good student! But I forgot that it takes time to be a good mom, a good lover, a good friend, a good business-starter, and a good introspector. And I can't do without any of those values right now.

So, I withdrew from a class. That might not seem like a big deal, and honestly, it's not. It only seems like a big deal to me because so much of my identity was built on being the star student. Who was I? I was the smart one. So when I am in school, I slip back into that pattern. Who am I now? I'm the free-spirited one. I'm the one who does positive discipline. I'm the one who reads. I'm the one who loves Aaron. I'm the one who makes the beef stock. I'm the one who goes to the park. I have developed this multi-faceted identity (that I wish I had developed much earlier), and being back in school sometimes makes it hard to remember how necessary all these new parts of me are.

Once I realized that I needed to withdraw from one of my classes, I still had to figure out which one. I was taking three: Middle English, American English, and Composition Pedagogy. I really really liked Middle English and Composition Pedagogy, but I think I probably liked Middle English the best. And that's the one I dropped.

Why on earth did I drop my favorite class? Because I finally decided what I want to be when I grow up. When I came back to grad school, I knew I wanted to teach on a college level. But I wasn't sure if I wanted to focus on rhetoric and composition or on literature. For me, it's basically the choice between a focus on teaching writing at a community college or going on to get a PhD and spending much of my time researching and writing. Though I love to read, I don't love to research, and I finally realized I'll be much happier learning about composition and pedagogy and spending the vast majority of my time teaching.

And I like teaching undergrads, even marginal kind of students. I've always enjoyed the challenge of teaching people that others labeled unteachable. I'll get to do that (and not have to write books) if I get my MA in rhet/comp and teach locally.

I'm relieved to figure out what to do because now I can get started taking required classes. These first two semesters I've been kind of dabbling to figure out what I want. But I will only be taking two classes, and I will be pursuing tons of other values all at the same time. Introspecting about what I need and making it happen has made me feel like myself again. No longer caught up in a swiftly moving current, but skipping along the banks in the sun.

Thursday, July 29, 2010

Using the Mistaken Goal Chart In the Classroom

Since I wrote about the mistaken goal chart last week, I thought this week I would give my dear readers an example of how I have used it. Plus, I have been wanting to write more about my classroom/gym experience using positive discipline, so here goes.

I was teaching a one-hour 5 year old gymnastics class with 8 kids in it. Mostly, it is super easy to get kids to behave in gymnastics because they love to be there and naturally stay right on track. With the littler kids, though, there is often the problem of distractabiltiy in a gym where 6 thousand things are going on all around them. But for a 5 year old class like this, usually just calling the kids name snaps him back into the task at hand, and that's often all the discipline I have to do.

Most of my class management occurs before the kids even get there. I try to streamline the process of moving from bars to beam to floor to vault so that there is little time between activities in which to misbehave. I enlist the kids help for setting up, give them little tasks while moving between activities (like walking on toes), and try to minimize waiting in lines. Those things keep kids moving and having fun, so they don't even think of doing anything inappropriate.

I also use my energy level to keep kids focused. If a coach sits or stands still or stops talking and encouraging and laughing, the laws of physics state that the coach becomes a black hole and all the energy of the class will be sucked away. So I move constantly, touching everyone, giving constant feedback, laughing and joking and enjoying myself, and that keeps the kids energy where it belongs: in their cartwheels.

But I have had a few challenging students who required more support from me to behave well, and that's where the mistaken goal chart comes into the story. In this particular 5 year old class, I had a little boy who was a terror. He constantly irritated the other kids, would do one cartwheel and then stop, would wander away from the class, would try to get my attention every second, etc. He was one of those kids that gets talked about in the break room. Coaches try to teach classes he isn't in. He had several older brothers who also ran wild over the gym waiting area while the little one was in class, and they all drove the secretary mad. I asked around about his family because I never ever saw a parent with whom to discuss his behavior. I was told that he didn't have a dad, and his mom was almost completely uninvolved in his life. Basically, he was being raised by his older brothers who were still kids themselves.

Knowing something about his life did two things. First, it made me feel sympathetic to him instead of angry and annoyed. Second, it made me think about the whys of his behavior instead of just the what. So, I used the mistaken goal chart. I noticed that I mostly felt annoyed and irritated by him, so that's a clue that his mistaken goal might be undue attention. From what I understood about his home life, it seemed to fit. Why wouldn't a child who didn't get enough adult attention try to get it from every adult he came into contact with? And if he was being taught all his social skills by other kids, it seemed reasonable that he was using a poor method that wasn't getting results. I wondered about what school must be like for him; I would be willing to bet that his teachers think of him as a trouble maker (just like the coaches at the gym). He was probably getting mostly negative attention there too.

So I decided that I wouldn't wait for him to misbehave or ask for attention. I would just give him tons of physical contact and kind words from the beginning and see what happened. I would also continue to stop him from irritating other students, but I would worry less about how much gymnastics he was learning and focus for a while on what kind of experience he was getting from me (one of the few adults he ever interacted with).

I asked him if he would like it if I carried him from activity to activity. Yes, he said, with a lit up face, he would love this. Most 5 year old boys want to play roughly with me, but they aren't usually cuddlers, so I took this as proof that he desperately needed adult contact. I hugged him when I saw him. I touched his hair when I passed by him in line. I spent time picking him up and throwing him into the foam pit (I did the same to the other kids, since they all love this). I spoke with him before and after class. I waved at him on the playground when I saw him during his brother's classes. I carried him from beam to bars to vault to floor. I treated him like a darling child that I couldn't get enough of. And an amazing thing happened. He became a darling child that I couldn't get enough of.

His behavior improved A LOT. He stayed on task; he begged for attention less; he kept his hands off the other students; he stayed where he was supposed to stay. He blossomed when some love and affection was showered on him, not as a reward for good behavior, but as his due as a child.

Had I not consulted the mistaken goal chart, I would still have addressed his behavior using positive discipline. But I wouldn't have been fixing the problem he really had. I could have made him the line leader, but his problem wasn't that he felt a lack of power. I could have found him a smaller class with less going on in the gym at that time, but his problem wasn't over-stimulation. By using the chart to find his real problem, the misbehavior melted away. Jane Nelson really is right when she says that "children behave better when they feel better."