Summer Professional Development - 8/3/99
"I'm thinking now that our lessons --
our individual pieces of work -- function in much the same way a piece of
writing or artwork does. Each time you experience the performance...a kind
of alchemy takes place and the results are never exactly the same."
Last week I spent 4 days with other educators in a seminar called
"Making Teaching and Learning Public." The session was sponsored
by the Annenberg Institute for School Reform and I was a co-facilitator.
I was a bit nervous going into the event because it was my first time facilitating
away from home. I wasn't sure about the boundaries: How much participation
is appropriate for a facilitator vs. a participant? Was I experienced enough?
Would our planned schedule of activities work, etc.?
Our group was a good mix of new and veteran teachers, along with a few administrators
and a parent representative. We were lucky to have elementary, middle and
high school folks and a good mix geographically as well.
It's always exciting to watch a new group take shape and build the trust
necessary to really examine student work. I'm continually impressed with
the layers of meaning that are both uncovered and constructed as we study
our work.
We had asked participants to bring samples of student work with them. In
particular, we asked for tapes of their classrooms. Only one person brought
a tape and so we had to supplement by using a tape of my teaching which
was developed last spring.
We were viewing the tapes to practice giving teachers feedback about their
work. The taped lesson which I shared had been "reviewed" by my
Critical Friends Group at school and then again later at the Annenberg Colloquium
in Philadelphia. Since the work had been discussed twice, I wasn't expecting
much that was new from this session.
Boy, was I wrong! As I sat listening to the other teachers' comments, I
heard observations which I'd heard before, but right in the middle of my
notetaking, came a remark which sent me reeling. A participant observed
that I asked my students to repeat their comments, when they were relevant.
The relevancy piece hit me right between the eyes! I had never considered
the significance of this particular set of actions. Now I couldn't avoid
the realization that while I profess a desire to have my students think
critically, and I would never just "tell" them what to think,
I was doing the next thing to it..
It was right there on the tape. Every time a student hit on the right answer,
the answer I wanted them to give, I practically lit up. I made sure they
repeated it, and I made sure everyone heard it.
I'm still mulling over this aspect of my teaching, and more importantly,
its impact on student learning. If I really believe that "mistakes"
are windows into our thinking that need to be plumbed before we can change
our minds and accept a deeper understanding of things, then my practice
is backwards.
As I'm writing this, I'm remembering a course I took after my first year
of teaching. It was called "Critical Thinking for a Technological World"
and was sponsored by IBM. The instructor of this two-week class drove me
nuts! He never answered my questions. He just smiled and asked me another
question.
I ended up at the library almost every day after class. I wanted to know
the answers, and since he wouldn't give them to me, I had to find them myself.
I've never forgotten that class, but I haven't incorporated enough of his
teaching practice into my classroom.
Right on the heels of the "relevancy" observation, came another
teacher's comment about how flexible I was. I had allowed students to vote
again when a student brought up new information after a vote had been taken
about how we'd proceed. Here again, I was struck by my willingness to be
flexible when a student said what I wanted to hear.
I'm not saying that I should follow students' mistaken thinking down endless
blind alleyways, but I am advocating a more conscious approach to this supposedly
"open" style of mine. One thing that seems pretty obvious is the
need to entertain more discussion and "think time" before we decide
how to design experiments or test our hypotheses.
I hope the students will participate in a more meaningful way if I allow
for more discussion time from the start. I also need to think about ways
to build classroom discussion that doesn't all flow through me. If the kids
can learn to bounce ideas off one another, I think it will be more constructive.
As I read over what I've just written I'm aware of how valuable the seminar
was for me. It pushed my thinking. As a facilitator I learned a great deal,
and judging by the feedback we received, I'd have to say it pushed the rest
of the group as well.
I'm thinking now that our lessons -- our individual pieces of work -- function
in much the same way a piece of writing or artwork does. Each time you experience
the performance, view the art or read the text, you bring new insights to
the table. When you experience or "transact" with the material.
a kind of alchemy takes place and the results are never exactly the same.
This seminar group showed me that no two sets of observations are identical
and I'm looking forward to staying in touch with the participants over email.
Four of the teachers were from a Philadelphia school and we're planning
to continue to work together throughout the year. All in all it was a week
well spent.
Now my thoughts are turning toward my new assignment as a supporter of project-based
learning-- a prep teacher. I'm reading a book about the I-Search approach,
"Teaching
Middle School Students to be Active Researchers," and I hope to
develop a skeletal plan for the year which I can share with colleagues from
my small learning community before we return on Sept. 2nd.
In an ideal world, I'd know who all my colleagues are and I'd be able to
get their feedback before school begins. In the real world, we still have
some teaching vacancies, and most appointed folks are away or working. I'll
only be able to get minimal feedback before meeting my students in September.
I like to start out strong in September, but I want/need student and teacher
ownership if my program is going to be useful. One of my biggest strengths,
my enthusiasm, also reflects one of my biggest weaknesses -- my impatience.
Channeling my energy and ideas so that I can facilitate, but not dominate,
this process will be a top priority.
Deb's Diary Will Return in Early September
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