My class is designed around a modified Socratic method--more open-ended questions than that ancient Sage would use--and it's days like today that both make me happy to do what I do, and worried that I may have pushed too far.
Parents, I think, use a particular definition of "pushing" or "challenging" their student that isn't immediately transferable to me. Does that mean I ask questions that we're afraid to answer? Questions that can't easily be answered? Questions that don't have an answer? Questions that reconfirm what the students know? Questions that open up new possibilities? Questions that challenge the status quo? Questions that are followed up by additional questions that undo whatever answer they've given?
Frankly, I try to craft questions of all those types, and I certainly prefer to leave a lot of the answers up to them to decide. This puts me at odds with some parents (and some aspects of school oversight), as I implicitly trust students to make up their own minds.
"But they're too young! You're corrupting their minds!*" In short:
So what do parents want? Each is expecting something different, but none is really counting on what I actually do in class. Even those who've sent their older children through my class won't know how what I talk about and teach will affect the kid who's in my class now.
Today's a good example: Because it's Constitution Week, I take some time out of my World Civilization course to talk about the American Constitution--which I do enjoy discussing, though it's irritating to have it shoehorned into my curriculum. I juxtapose the Magna Carta with the Bill of Rights--it's just enough text to take care of one day's lesson--and we look at what history thought of a balance of power, then dig into the amendments. We don't talk about all of them, but inevitably we land on the Second Amendment.
I talk about Supreme Court rulings, trying to figure out who's being discussed (the militia? the people?), and try to show the predominantly conservative mindset where there are areas of discussion about gun control. I try to model thinking about both sides of the issue, bringing up arguments and counter arguments, then leaving it to the kids to chew on.
After days like this, I wonder how many angry emails I'm going to get. I have, after all, spent a couple hours of the day pushing their kids to think a little deeper about something important.
And sometimes, that's what pushes people's buttons in just the wrong way.
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* Not coincidentally, Socrates swallowed hemlock, in part, because he was accused of leading the youth of Athens astray. And for preaching (if that's the right word; no, actually, it's not) a brand of atheism that didn't sit well with those in charge. Of course, most Christians would agree with that type of atheism, since they deny the existence of the Greek pantheon...but that's another matter entirely.
Parents, I think, use a particular definition of "pushing" or "challenging" their student that isn't immediately transferable to me. Does that mean I ask questions that we're afraid to answer? Questions that can't easily be answered? Questions that don't have an answer? Questions that reconfirm what the students know? Questions that open up new possibilities? Questions that challenge the status quo? Questions that are followed up by additional questions that undo whatever answer they've given?
Frankly, I try to craft questions of all those types, and I certainly prefer to leave a lot of the answers up to them to decide. This puts me at odds with some parents (and some aspects of school oversight), as I implicitly trust students to make up their own minds.
"But they're too young! You're corrupting their minds!*" In short:
So what do parents want? Each is expecting something different, but none is really counting on what I actually do in class. Even those who've sent their older children through my class won't know how what I talk about and teach will affect the kid who's in my class now.
Today's a good example: Because it's Constitution Week, I take some time out of my World Civilization course to talk about the American Constitution--which I do enjoy discussing, though it's irritating to have it shoehorned into my curriculum. I juxtapose the Magna Carta with the Bill of Rights--it's just enough text to take care of one day's lesson--and we look at what history thought of a balance of power, then dig into the amendments. We don't talk about all of them, but inevitably we land on the Second Amendment.
I talk about Supreme Court rulings, trying to figure out who's being discussed (the militia? the people?), and try to show the predominantly conservative mindset where there are areas of discussion about gun control. I try to model thinking about both sides of the issue, bringing up arguments and counter arguments, then leaving it to the kids to chew on.
After days like this, I wonder how many angry emails I'm going to get. I have, after all, spent a couple hours of the day pushing their kids to think a little deeper about something important.
And sometimes, that's what pushes people's buttons in just the wrong way.
---
* Not coincidentally, Socrates swallowed hemlock, in part, because he was accused of leading the youth of Athens astray. And for preaching (if that's the right word; no, actually, it's not) a brand of atheism that didn't sit well with those in charge. Of course, most Christians would agree with that type of atheism, since they deny the existence of the Greek pantheon...but that's another matter entirely.
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