Despite the fact that my teacher-sense was tingling, I went ahead with a bit of an experiment today. The details aren't really what matters--the kids in one class will try an alternative assignment while the other class will go through my standard set up. Instead, it's the idea of what I'm trying to accomplish with my classes.
Last year was a bit of an existential crisis for me in terms of how I teach. (I had already gone through the "Is this what I really want to do with my life?" existential crisis some years before. Thanks, Class of 2014.) I didn't feel like anything was working right, I didn't feel as though my choices, questions, conversations, or techniques were worthwhile. I decided against changing everything, instead trying to streamline what I've done in the past to try to make it more engaging--trimming, consolidating, and tweaking where I felt I could.
In an attempt to remain flexible to student desires, I let the classes decide how to approach the Scientific Revolution. There isn't a lot of wiggle room, but I was willing to give it a go if they were. The first section of my class voted about 10 to 8 (with a handful of kids abstaining) to try the new direction. The other class voted 18 to 6 to stick with the original idea.
I enjoyed my second section significantly more. Part of that was because I was much more involved in traditional teaching--up front, facilitating a discussion, analyzing text, and imparting information. But I don't know what the outcome will be with the first class--they're working independently and will show me their results tomorrow.
Here's the thing that has me conflicted: When I got this job, I told the interviewers that I wasn't interested in being a vending machine of knowledge, one that simply spits things out for students to take away. Yet I wanted the students, lo these nine years after that interview, to vote for the standard stand-and-deliver format. I did this in part because I was bored--we had just done a similar activity--and in part because I wanted to feel validated. I wonder if I've become the vending machine after all.
The other part of the feelings of conflict is that I don't have a clear idea of what I want from them. When there isn't clarity of the goal, everyone ends up frustrated. After all, they do their best, and if it isn't what I'm looking for, they don't see how they could have divined the preferred end.
The last piece is like this moment from Finding Nemo.
I don't know how to be comfortable with letting go. I try to run a pretty tight ship (I think, anyway), and it's worrisome to relinquish that discipline and let the students work on their own. My own children are under this burden, too, though they don't know it. How can you let go of the only safety you feel you have? While I know these aren't new questions in the history of the world, they're new to me. They're questions I've never grappled with before, and the whole process is making me tired.
Maybe I need to be like another Disney movie and let it go.
Last year was a bit of an existential crisis for me in terms of how I teach. (I had already gone through the "Is this what I really want to do with my life?" existential crisis some years before. Thanks, Class of 2014.) I didn't feel like anything was working right, I didn't feel as though my choices, questions, conversations, or techniques were worthwhile. I decided against changing everything, instead trying to streamline what I've done in the past to try to make it more engaging--trimming, consolidating, and tweaking where I felt I could.
In an attempt to remain flexible to student desires, I let the classes decide how to approach the Scientific Revolution. There isn't a lot of wiggle room, but I was willing to give it a go if they were. The first section of my class voted about 10 to 8 (with a handful of kids abstaining) to try the new direction. The other class voted 18 to 6 to stick with the original idea.
I enjoyed my second section significantly more. Part of that was because I was much more involved in traditional teaching--up front, facilitating a discussion, analyzing text, and imparting information. But I don't know what the outcome will be with the first class--they're working independently and will show me their results tomorrow.
Here's the thing that has me conflicted: When I got this job, I told the interviewers that I wasn't interested in being a vending machine of knowledge, one that simply spits things out for students to take away. Yet I wanted the students, lo these nine years after that interview, to vote for the standard stand-and-deliver format. I did this in part because I was bored--we had just done a similar activity--and in part because I wanted to feel validated. I wonder if I've become the vending machine after all.
The other part of the feelings of conflict is that I don't have a clear idea of what I want from them. When there isn't clarity of the goal, everyone ends up frustrated. After all, they do their best, and if it isn't what I'm looking for, they don't see how they could have divined the preferred end.
The last piece is like this moment from Finding Nemo.
I don't know how to be comfortable with letting go. I try to run a pretty tight ship (I think, anyway), and it's worrisome to relinquish that discipline and let the students work on their own. My own children are under this burden, too, though they don't know it. How can you let go of the only safety you feel you have? While I know these aren't new questions in the history of the world, they're new to me. They're questions I've never grappled with before, and the whole process is making me tired.
Maybe I need to be like another Disney movie and let it go.
Comments