During my senior year of high school, I was fighting the impulse to become a teacher because the job market was terrible. My psychology teacher assigned the class to visit someplace connected to psychology. I went home and said to Mom, "Now what?" It's not exactly routine to go on a tour of a psychiatric ward. They frown on having people walk through hospitals and stare.
Mom had the idea to go to a home for mentally handicapped children. I'd always had a tender spot for the students who've been known by the alphabet soup of EMR, DH, CD, MC, MH.* In fact in junior high, I ate lunch with some of the special students and helped out an autistic boy in art class. But honestly, when Mom arranged the tour, I wasn't thinking about future careers, but was only relieved to have a location and be able to fulfill the assignment.
A staff member took us through a highly-respected home for severely handicapped people. On the tour we saw residents in therapy, residents learning, residents being fed, residents in wheelchairs and cribs. One young lady was 22 years old and was sleeping in a crib; and indeed, she was crib-sized, small and limp and barely taller than a toddler. That image is one of the two clearest memories from the tour.
Here's the other vivid memory. We got back out to the car, and Mom broke down and wept intensely. It was uncomfortable; was I some kind of beast that I didn't cry? Granted, Mr. Spock has long been a role model for his logic and sensible approach to situations, but was I that cold? Sitting in the passenger seat, waiting for Mom to get it out, I realized that some people see the tragedy that happened in these lives and cry over the pain. (After all, Mom was thinking of her 17-year old daughter, and how that could just as easily have been me in the crib.) But still, while some people feel sympathy and cry, other people say, "It can't be changed, so what can I do to help?" Mom is one, and I'm the other.
I worked at a camp for handicapped people for five summers; and when I graduated, two of my four certifications were for the mildly cognitively handicapped and for the multiply handicapped. For a number of years I taught the mildly and moderately handicapped at the high school level. Some of the kids still write to me. Some still have the jobs our department helped them get, way back when they were in high school. I see them working at the grocery store or wiping tables at McDonald's. They're functioning, tax-paying members of society. Others, who are more deeply handicapped, work at county workshops and live in group homes, but they have lives of their own. There's the undeniable tragedy of adults lying in cribs, but most of the handicapped people are a lot more like you and me than they are different. Though attitudes toward the handicapped have changed for the better in recent times, I wish more people understood that they're not so different.
*EMR, DH, CD, MC, MH. Educably mentally retarded, developmentally handicapped, cognitively disabled, mentally challenged, multiply handicapped. There are possibly some other sets of initials I've forgotten. The terminology keeps changing!
Friday, June 24, 2011
Thursday, June 23, 2011
"This Will Burn": connected to "Why Teach?" 6/23
page 23: "Simple mistakes like teaching children that are too young or too old can destroy promising teachers."
Well, if you've been reading in order and following along, you know that a couple factors in choosing to become a teacher were: 1. enjoying helping people, 2. and wanting to follow in the footsteps of my mentor, Mr. Clark, by helping kids at difficult times in their lives.
Nevertheless, through high school, I fought the idea of teaching because the job market was terrible. I loved German, and investigated careers as an interpreter or translator, but concluded only people who'd learned a language young from native speakers would ever be truly fluent. By starting German in 7th grade and having no funds to go live in Germany, I'd always be second rate. Who wants a career fated to be second rate?
Then I came back to that teaching idea, which had refused to go away; so the next logical choice was to teach German, but I could already see that German was on its way out. Districts had one German teacher as opposed to a handful of French or Spanish teachers and dozens of English teachers. I wanted a job. I didn't want to go from college to unemployment.
So that left the teaching field wide open. If not German, what do I do?
I did a self-inventory and determined that I was probably afraid of teenagers with weapons, so I decided on elementary education. Well, that was easy.
After my freshman year of college, I got a summer job at a camp for people with handicaps, Camp Aowakiya (CA). It no longer exists but was operated by Hiram House Camp, which is still around. I got the job because I'd been volunteering at a CA daycamp near my home. I was one of the older volunteers and had common sense. A job at the CA resident camp opened up, and they asked the better daycamp volunteers if they were interested.
My folks were horrified. Going across town AGAIN (like I had for college) to go live in a TENT with an OUTHOUSE and barely any running water? And you've NEVER gone camping! And the only experience you've had is the camping class you took for a phys ed credit! Are you nuts? But I thought I could do it, and I'd been offered a job, and I wanted to try.
I loved it. We had mentally challenged people from age 7 to 60. Some were mildly handicapped, while others were very handicapped, lived in institutions and displayed very strange behaviors. We worked in small groups of campers with a pair of counsellors, lived in tents, had meals trucked from Hiram House, had a mandatory sleep-out each session, and ended the night singing around the campfire. Staff took 2-hour shifts through the night sitting by the campfire, keeping watch over the tents and escorting waking campers to the outhouse. Whose slogan is "the hardest job you'll ever love"? The Peace Corps?
The first five weeks were a thrilling adventure, working with groups of teens and adults; the sixth and final week, they gave me the little kids' group. One kid was terrified of insects, and he'd pinch and slap himself whenever a bug came by. (Parents, a good, loving decision to send him to a 24/7 outdoor camp.) Other kids were just generally distracted, temperamental, and normal for special needs little kids. But then there was Neddie (not his real name). Neddie's file said he was a pyromaniac. Hello?! Aren't pyromaniacs common in movies but rare in real life?! And he's in my group of campers??!!
Neddie became my responsibility while the other counsellor took responsibilty for all the others. Sure enough, Neddie spent the whole week picking up every scrap of paper or leaf off the ground. He'd turn to me and proudly show me his prize and say, "This will burn." I never figured out if he was asking me or telling me. It was eerie either way. At the first campfire circle, Neddie was seated between the other counsellor and myself. I had underestimated how fast a child can leap. One second he was there. The next second he was standing over the campfire tossing in twigs and debris. The next second I was pulling him out, unscathed.
From then on, my hand was around Neddie's wrist during all waking hours. He didn't seem to be a fire-starter at night. Probably the sweet dreams of raging conflagrations were enough.
The week wore on forever. "This will burn." And forever. "This will burn." And forever.
Saturday came. The camp was over, done, closed. The tents were down and hauled away. Most of the staff had already gone home. Only a few of us were left. And guess whose parents were the last to come and pick up their child?
Finally we watched Neddie drive off, perhaps wishing he could watch the sparks in the internal combustion engine. Ironically Neddie was from my hometown, aaaaaaaall the way across town. But I never crossed paths with him again, never heard about any North Olmsted blazes started by a small child. I wonder where he's at now, and if he's received any help. I worked at that camp five summers, but never saw Neddie again, unlike many "regulars" who came year after year.
Camp ended in the middle of August. College resumed around the 27th or so. In those few short days, I had figured out one thing: I was not meant to work with little kids. Big scary teenagers? Bring 'em on. Give me somebody with a Formal Operations mind. Give me somebody who doesn't cry over an untied shoe.
(And I didn't know then what I understand now. I didn't understand that after my dad died when I was four, I had grown up instantly. I wasn't ever really a child myself, so working with little children does not come naturally.)
I'm so grateful that I learned early what I was not suited for. Otherwise, there would have been an awful lot of wasted elementary course work and replacement secondary classes to take. Like Kohl's warning about finding the right age group, I have conferred with friends and recognized that we're each cut out for a different age or situation. Finding the place where you fit is crucial . . . so that you don't get "burned." (Ouch, couldn't resist the pun!)
Well, if you've been reading in order and following along, you know that a couple factors in choosing to become a teacher were: 1. enjoying helping people, 2. and wanting to follow in the footsteps of my mentor, Mr. Clark, by helping kids at difficult times in their lives.
Nevertheless, through high school, I fought the idea of teaching because the job market was terrible. I loved German, and investigated careers as an interpreter or translator, but concluded only people who'd learned a language young from native speakers would ever be truly fluent. By starting German in 7th grade and having no funds to go live in Germany, I'd always be second rate. Who wants a career fated to be second rate?
Then I came back to that teaching idea, which had refused to go away; so the next logical choice was to teach German, but I could already see that German was on its way out. Districts had one German teacher as opposed to a handful of French or Spanish teachers and dozens of English teachers. I wanted a job. I didn't want to go from college to unemployment.
So that left the teaching field wide open. If not German, what do I do?
I did a self-inventory and determined that I was probably afraid of teenagers with weapons, so I decided on elementary education. Well, that was easy.
After my freshman year of college, I got a summer job at a camp for people with handicaps, Camp Aowakiya (CA). It no longer exists but was operated by Hiram House Camp, which is still around. I got the job because I'd been volunteering at a CA daycamp near my home. I was one of the older volunteers and had common sense. A job at the CA resident camp opened up, and they asked the better daycamp volunteers if they were interested.
My folks were horrified. Going across town AGAIN (like I had for college) to go live in a TENT with an OUTHOUSE and barely any running water? And you've NEVER gone camping! And the only experience you've had is the camping class you took for a phys ed credit! Are you nuts? But I thought I could do it, and I'd been offered a job, and I wanted to try.
I loved it. We had mentally challenged people from age 7 to 60. Some were mildly handicapped, while others were very handicapped, lived in institutions and displayed very strange behaviors. We worked in small groups of campers with a pair of counsellors, lived in tents, had meals trucked from Hiram House, had a mandatory sleep-out each session, and ended the night singing around the campfire. Staff took 2-hour shifts through the night sitting by the campfire, keeping watch over the tents and escorting waking campers to the outhouse. Whose slogan is "the hardest job you'll ever love"? The Peace Corps?
The first five weeks were a thrilling adventure, working with groups of teens and adults; the sixth and final week, they gave me the little kids' group. One kid was terrified of insects, and he'd pinch and slap himself whenever a bug came by. (Parents, a good, loving decision to send him to a 24/7 outdoor camp.) Other kids were just generally distracted, temperamental, and normal for special needs little kids. But then there was Neddie (not his real name). Neddie's file said he was a pyromaniac. Hello?! Aren't pyromaniacs common in movies but rare in real life?! And he's in my group of campers??!!
Neddie became my responsibility while the other counsellor took responsibilty for all the others. Sure enough, Neddie spent the whole week picking up every scrap of paper or leaf off the ground. He'd turn to me and proudly show me his prize and say, "This will burn." I never figured out if he was asking me or telling me. It was eerie either way. At the first campfire circle, Neddie was seated between the other counsellor and myself. I had underestimated how fast a child can leap. One second he was there. The next second he was standing over the campfire tossing in twigs and debris. The next second I was pulling him out, unscathed.
From then on, my hand was around Neddie's wrist during all waking hours. He didn't seem to be a fire-starter at night. Probably the sweet dreams of raging conflagrations were enough.
The week wore on forever. "This will burn." And forever. "This will burn." And forever.
Saturday came. The camp was over, done, closed. The tents were down and hauled away. Most of the staff had already gone home. Only a few of us were left. And guess whose parents were the last to come and pick up their child?
Finally we watched Neddie drive off, perhaps wishing he could watch the sparks in the internal combustion engine. Ironically Neddie was from my hometown, aaaaaaaall the way across town. But I never crossed paths with him again, never heard about any North Olmsted blazes started by a small child. I wonder where he's at now, and if he's received any help. I worked at that camp five summers, but never saw Neddie again, unlike many "regulars" who came year after year.
Camp ended in the middle of August. College resumed around the 27th or so. In those few short days, I had figured out one thing: I was not meant to work with little kids. Big scary teenagers? Bring 'em on. Give me somebody with a Formal Operations mind. Give me somebody who doesn't cry over an untied shoe.
(And I didn't know then what I understand now. I didn't understand that after my dad died when I was four, I had grown up instantly. I wasn't ever really a child myself, so working with little children does not come naturally.)
I'm so grateful that I learned early what I was not suited for. Otherwise, there would have been an awful lot of wasted elementary course work and replacement secondary classes to take. Like Kohl's warning about finding the right age group, I have conferred with friends and recognized that we're each cut out for a different age or situation. Finding the place where you fit is crucial . . . so that you don't get "burned." (Ouch, couldn't resist the pun!)
Kohl, Herbert. "Why Teach?" Educational Foundations: An
Anthology of Critical Readings. Ed. Bruce A. Marlowe and Alan S.
Canestrari. 2nd ed. Los Angeles: Sage, 2010. 21-31. Print.
Anthology of Critical Readings. Ed. Bruce A. Marlowe and Alan S.
Canestrari. 2nd ed. Los Angeles: Sage, 2010. 21-31. Print.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Not Only Teachers: connected to "The Green Monongahela," 6/23
In "The Green Monongahela," named for a river near Pittsburgh, John Taylor Gatto writes about all the people who taught him when he was a boy. He had teachers in school, sure, but he had many more "teachers" than that. "In Monongahela by that river, everyone was my teacher" (p. 9). He writes about what he learned from relatives, but more especially from the guys who worked on the river boats and the trains. He says how grateful the boys were for the men to take a little bit of time from their workday to talk to the kids and tell them about the real world and give them a glimpse into their future as men.
These "teachers" influenced Gatto to want to help other young people the way he'd been helped. But these workmen hadn't taken psychology classes. They weren't licensed or certified or finger-printed or background-checked. They were real men who shared themselves honestly with the younger generation and taught life experience.
As teachers, we spend most of our lives in academic settings. Something "clicked" for us with school and we return to that comfortable zone. We spend so much time in School-World that we can lose sight that non-teachers also teach. Even at school, sometimes the person who really takes the time to truly connect with a kid may be a secretary or a custodian. An office aide may grow to have significant rapport with a secretary with whom he or she interacts daily. Students may feel affirmed by a custodian who talks to them after the final bell. They may find someone who listens more than anyone at home or in class. We have a custodian like that. He's a Gift to students and staff alike.
In School-World, we can forget that college does a lot, but it isn't everything. People in this world all have different gifts, and that's a good thing! If there were only academicians, who would fix the cars, install the furnaces, and grow the food. Just as Gardner talked about multiple kinds of intelligence, there's more to life than the game of school. Those who work with their hands are educated in other ways. Achievement might be counted by degrees, but intelligence isn't necessarily. More especially, intelligence is the ability to problem-solve and be successful in navigating life. The author, Gatto, reminds us that those who serve alongside the teachers and those who serve outside of School-World are equally valuable and can forever change a young boy's life, whether along the banks of the Monongahela, the Cuyahoga, the Nile, or anywhere.
These "teachers" influenced Gatto to want to help other young people the way he'd been helped. But these workmen hadn't taken psychology classes. They weren't licensed or certified or finger-printed or background-checked. They were real men who shared themselves honestly with the younger generation and taught life experience.
As teachers, we spend most of our lives in academic settings. Something "clicked" for us with school and we return to that comfortable zone. We spend so much time in School-World that we can lose sight that non-teachers also teach. Even at school, sometimes the person who really takes the time to truly connect with a kid may be a secretary or a custodian. An office aide may grow to have significant rapport with a secretary with whom he or she interacts daily. Students may feel affirmed by a custodian who talks to them after the final bell. They may find someone who listens more than anyone at home or in class. We have a custodian like that. He's a Gift to students and staff alike.
In School-World, we can forget that college does a lot, but it isn't everything. People in this world all have different gifts, and that's a good thing! If there were only academicians, who would fix the cars, install the furnaces, and grow the food. Just as Gardner talked about multiple kinds of intelligence, there's more to life than the game of school. Those who work with their hands are educated in other ways. Achievement might be counted by degrees, but intelligence isn't necessarily. More especially, intelligence is the ability to problem-solve and be successful in navigating life. The author, Gatto, reminds us that those who serve alongside the teachers and those who serve outside of School-World are equally valuable and can forever change a young boy's life, whether along the banks of the Monongahela, the Cuyahoga, the Nile, or anywhere.
Gatto, John Taylor. "The Green Monongahela." Educational Foundations: An
Anthology of Critical Readings. Ed. Bruce A. Marlowe and Alan S.
Canestrari. 2nd ed. Los Angeles: Sage, 2010. 8-14. Print.
Anthology of Critical Readings. Ed. Bruce A. Marlowe and Alan S.
Canestrari. 2nd ed. Los Angeles: Sage, 2010. 8-14. Print.
"What I Did for Love": connected to "The Green Monongahela," 6/23
The musical seems ancient now.
There's a musical called A Chorus Line. It's a Broadway show about a dance audition at a Broadway show. None of the dancers at the audition will be the featured Star. They're just trying to get their big break in the chorus line. As theydo their dance audition, they tell their story and sing it. The audience waits to see who will make the final cut and be cast in the musical within a musical.
One of the dancers sings about how tough it is to make it in the professional dance world, but how she chased her dream in spite of the odds. She sings, "...point me toward tomorrow / We did what we had to do / Won't forget, can't regret / What I did for love.." (Songwriters Marvin Hamlisch, Edward Kleban).
In the first blog, I mentioned teaching in a bunch of departments. I left college certified to teach in four areas because the teaching job market was so bad. I was trying to not be the unemployed college graduate who moved back home. (And it did work out. I was hired where I did student teaching.) But I didn't know. One never knows. I felt like I was taking a huge risk by following this dream of helping people. I stepped forward in faith, thinking/hoping that I wouldn't "regret what I did for love."
So why talk about all this? (Well, besides the fact that I'm supposed to reflect autobiographically...) The reason for writing about it is my reading in the Foundations book. My chapter is about a man who quit an easy and profitable job writing advertising jingles to become a substitute teacher and take all kinds of abuse from students and staff alike. Yet he made a difference for a student about whom he writes. He was influenced by the adults who'd been his mentors when he was young. He had to give back. He just had to! And it was what he did for love.
I felt like I had to give back too. Mr. Clark, the teacher whom I named when we went around the circle, did so much for me that I felt like I needed to repay the favor to the next generation. Mr. Clark was a demanding teacher, who taught us to THINK and to take a stance and defend our beliefs with logical arguments, yet he had a mischievous sense of humor. He spent time talking to me at a time when my self-worth was really low. He encouraged me with advice and by pushing me to go past my comfort zone with leadership in class. He was a hero and a father-figure. We kept in touch with holiday cards over the years. He died last July, and I'm still quite moved about it. I'm planning to write to his wife and tell her that he was honored in our class.
I know I've affected some kids. Whether I'll be a lifelong influence for anyone, I may never know. But when they change my schedule or give me more to do or when we have to re-vamp all our courses because Ohio is changing the Standards, what keeps me going through all the long hours of work is that I have a chance to make a difference for some student who needs it. It's what I do for love.
There's a musical called A Chorus Line. It's a Broadway show about a dance audition at a Broadway show. None of the dancers at the audition will be the featured Star. They're just trying to get their big break in the chorus line. As theydo their dance audition, they tell their story and sing it. The audience waits to see who will make the final cut and be cast in the musical within a musical.
One of the dancers sings about how tough it is to make it in the professional dance world, but how she chased her dream in spite of the odds. She sings, "...point me toward tomorrow / We did what we had to do / Won't forget, can't regret / What I did for love.." (Songwriters Marvin Hamlisch, Edward Kleban).
In the first blog, I mentioned teaching in a bunch of departments. I left college certified to teach in four areas because the teaching job market was so bad. I was trying to not be the unemployed college graduate who moved back home. (And it did work out. I was hired where I did student teaching.) But I didn't know. One never knows. I felt like I was taking a huge risk by following this dream of helping people. I stepped forward in faith, thinking/hoping that I wouldn't "regret what I did for love."
So why talk about all this? (Well, besides the fact that I'm supposed to reflect autobiographically...) The reason for writing about it is my reading in the Foundations book. My chapter is about a man who quit an easy and profitable job writing advertising jingles to become a substitute teacher and take all kinds of abuse from students and staff alike. Yet he made a difference for a student about whom he writes. He was influenced by the adults who'd been his mentors when he was young. He had to give back. He just had to! And it was what he did for love.
I felt like I had to give back too. Mr. Clark, the teacher whom I named when we went around the circle, did so much for me that I felt like I needed to repay the favor to the next generation. Mr. Clark was a demanding teacher, who taught us to THINK and to take a stance and defend our beliefs with logical arguments, yet he had a mischievous sense of humor. He spent time talking to me at a time when my self-worth was really low. He encouraged me with advice and by pushing me to go past my comfort zone with leadership in class. He was a hero and a father-figure. We kept in touch with holiday cards over the years. He died last July, and I'm still quite moved about it. I'm planning to write to his wife and tell her that he was honored in our class.
I know I've affected some kids. Whether I'll be a lifelong influence for anyone, I may never know. But when they change my schedule or give me more to do or when we have to re-vamp all our courses because Ohio is changing the Standards, what keeps me going through all the long hours of work is that I have a chance to make a difference for some student who needs it. It's what I do for love.
Gatto, John Taylor. "The Green Monongahela." Educational Foundations: An
Anthology of Critical Readings. Ed. Bruce A. Marlowe and Alan S.
Canestrari. 2nd ed. Los Angeles: Sage, 2010. 8-14. Print.
Anthology of Critical Readings. Ed. Bruce A. Marlowe and Alan S.
Canestrari. 2nd ed. Los Angeles: Sage, 2010. 8-14. Print.
Hamlisch, Marvin, and Edward Kleban. "What I Did For Love Lyrics."
Metrolyrics: Beyond the Words. MetroLeap Media, Inc., 2004-2011. Web.
Metrolyrics: Beyond the Words. MetroLeap Media, Inc., 2004-2011. Web.
9 July 2011. <http://www.metrolyrics.com/ what-i-did-for-love-
lyrics-a-chorus-line.html>.
Monday, June 20, 2011
First assignment 6/20/11
Welcome to the Adventure of ED500, section 51. Hang on, here we go!
Personal
My name is Carol D-H (call me Carol--big surprise), a resident of South Euclid, and reachable at cspirit333@roadrunner.com. And, yes, I made my profile picture small on purpose.
I have been a teacher in the South Euclid-Lyndhurst system since finishing undergrad at Notre Dame College. I've taught special education, psychology, journalism, and English. Some years I taught three of those four at the same time. Whoa! Feelings of split personality! On the Mondays that we have department meetings, I didn't know which department I belonged in!
When I started my first M.Ed. in reading, I was teaching special ed. By the time I finished, I was teaching English, so the reading degree kind of bridged them both. My all time favorite though, was teaching psychology because it's so relevant to real life, and I saw the light bulbs go on above kids' heads all the time. I no longer teach psych because of a bureaucratic screw up (i.e., the principal at the time said I couldn't have a schedule split between English and psychology, even though I'd had a split schedule for years. Duh.).
Right now I teach Freshman English and Junior English, though the latest word is that they're adding Sophomore English next year too. Now I'll have three courses to prepare for each night instead of two (sigh*), but I'm one of the fortunate ones because other friends in the department were laid off, thanks to the cut-backs by the State of Ohio.
What makes me special? How do you answer that with any modesty at all??? My dad wasn't supposed to be able to have children because of a fever, but I arrived anyway. I was named after him, and after his father, and his father, and his mother. I'm at least the 5th Carol or Carl in the family. My dad died when I was four. When I married, I hyphenated my name to honor dad, but also to hang onto the chain of being the fifth CD in the family. My husband didn't mind, and it's helpful that his last name is short.
I used to have hobbies before the demands of teaching ate up all my life. The first atypical factor is teaching in all those different departments. But in the English department alone, since 2008, I've had a new class to teach every year but one. A new preparation is hard work every single night, as you're figuring out what to do that will help the kids the most. I can do some drawing and lay-outs, some writing, and acting (totally unprofessionally). I'm pretty good at generating ideas because I've had to do it so often. Mostly I work at school and work on special activities for Church, and try to have some life with my husband.
Miscellaneous. My favorite color forever is green. I can barely swim, but I'm drawn to the water. I remember to send cards for people's birthdays. We have a tall dog and a short dog: a greyhound and a beagle.
Learning Style and More
Class safety. Yeah, there's a biggie. I can be a healthy participant or be stone silent, depending on whether I feel safe in class--or in any sitution for that matter! To feel safe, I need to not be scorned or mocked. A little positive reinforcement for my comments goes a long way. Classroom safety is vital and something I'm dedicated to providing for my own students. If I feel safe, I blossom. If I feel danger, I keep to myself.
That's part of who I am as a student. I have above average intelligence, like all the rest of you, but I'm good at playing the game of school. I'm thorough, I work hard, and I hate to give up. Some people "climb the mountain" because it's there. I don't do mountains, but I strive for excellence to see if I can reach it. And while I can perform, silently, in a class where I'm not accepted, it's much better to be a part of a thriving educational community. I think that covers a through c.
My learning style is hugely VISUAL. You'll see me taking notes on everything. Seeing the words helps me remember. Teachers used to yell at me for taking too many notes, and I wondered why they didn't leave me alone and go fuss over someone who was struggling. Without understanding it, I had happened upon a system that works for me. I can see vague "pictures" in my head, which can sometimes include where notes are at on a page. I have a friend who's not visual at all and learns completely auditorally. She and I have quite a time comparing our learning experiences--nothing alike!
By nature, I tend to be left-brain: logical, linear, language-oriented, but I have cultivated the use of the right brain aspects too: creativity, seeing things differently, seeing the big picture. We have been given both sets of skills, so why not make the most of both?
When I'm frustrated, I go back and re-check the directions. :-) I try again. I ask someone nearby to double check my steps. I often pray. I talk to the teacher. If none of that helps, I get worked up and wound up and upset. I get frustrated that there ought to be a way to make it work!
What else? Why would anyone want to read all this? 100 points of extra credit for plodding through this far. I may be teaching English, but I really like science. I remember a lot from my schooling and can interconnect ideas. I often remember which teacher taught me what; I suppose it's because the teachers mattered.
The only extenuating circumstance to know about my life situation, is that my Mom is disabled and old. She lives alone on the West Side. She's stable, but one never knows when something could happen suddenly and I'd be called away for an emergency.
Education Past and Present
Okay, here's one that's kind of creepy. My dad was left-handed, and in kindergarten, I was making letters and numbers backwards--probably from watching Dad do things with his other hand. The teacher took me across the hall to an empty classroom and made me trace letters and numbers with my finger--letters and numbers made out of sandpaper! Ugh. Talk about feeling like an outcast. Now if the letters had been made out something soft and fun, that would have been different. Or just think. Bubblewrap! Wouldn't that have been cool?!
Here's a better memory. I remember in kindergarten or first grade having kids come up to me to help them draw something in their picture that they couldn't draw themselves. Sometimes they asked me if I would be an artist when I grew up. (I said yes because I was clueless about the future.) But helping fellow students didn't stop and moved on from pictures to other subjects. It made me feel good to be able to help kids and to be able to explain something in a different way than the teacher had--in case the different explanation helped the kid "get it." When it was time to choose a career, the teaching field was overcrowded, but I took a chance on education because I felt like it was what I was meant to do, what I'd been called to do.
Significant issues facing education.
Well, since kids' well-being is at stake, there's no end to the list of significant issues.
Here's a list for starters.
Bullying in school
Illiteracy
Achievement gap for Black males
Achievement gap for Latinos
Achievement gap for females in math and/or science
Effects of poverty
Effects of single parent homes or parents missing/distant/negligent
Effects of "Screen Addiction" (computers, TV, video games)
Safety/violence/shootings
Diverstiy
Effects of childhood malnutrition
Poor students falling behind without sufficient access to technology
Substance abuse and addiction
Child abuse
Sufficient help/access for special ed students
Gifted programs & other enrichment/ arts being cut
Wise use of medication for behaviorally challenged students
The middle-achieving students falling through the cracks
Teaching impoverished parents about the value of education
Help for parents of students with behavioral and learning problems
State cutbacks affecting students
Merit pay vs. other forms of payment
Validity of state-sponsored standardized testing
And more...
Best class ever: #10
Part of what I'd hope for in this class is what Dr. Shutkin announced for the beginning teachers: to help them examine themselves and their lives and figure out how that affects them as teachers. The trendy word is metacognition, to think about what they're thinking and bring more to their efforts to help kids. Socrates said, an "unexamined life is not worth living."
For those of us who are not beginning teachers, I see this class as an opportunity to pause and reflect. When you've been changed from one department or course to another the way I have, it feels like years of running on the hamster wheel without a chance to stop and reflect. I see this class as a chance to stop and take a time out and think about what I wrote about in my Philosophy of Education class in undergrad and see where I've been, where I'm going, and how I want to get there. I can begin to do that by reading the commentary of professionals and listening to the experiences of my peers in class.
Class activities would include just that: readings by respected authors, discussion with fellow students/teachers, and forced time to sit and reflect. It woulld be helpful to trace the roots of education in our country, project what is likely to happen in the future with the "hot issues," and think about what that means to me as an individual teacher.
In a perfect world with no time constraints, we might watch some of the famous teacher movies like Mr. Holland's Opus or To Sir with Love or Stand and Deliver or Dead Poets Society, and talk about the reality and the fantasy they portray, as well as the feelings that are evoked and the behaviors we'd like to apply to our teaching.
In this perfect time-free world, we might take a unit or a lesson for one of our courses and brainstorm a new way to teach it, a new approach (perhaps with ideas and collaboration from other classmates) and walk away with a thinking-out-of-the-box, dynamite lesson that proves to us that we can teach in ways we may not ever have thought of. The drawback is that not all the students know where they'll be teaching or what they'll be teaching. Something to consider is whether an activity like that is moving away from the course's purpose of covering Foundations. Or rather, has innovative teaching that responds to student needs been one of the most important foundations of teaching all along?
Another fruitful activity might be to encourage students to reflect on the teachers who made the biggest impact on them and why. They could consider mostly the positive influences, but also a couple of the negative (the kind of teacher they'd never want to be). I know I have thought back many times to Mr. Frame, whom I had for sophomore science for just one quarter, but his dynamic teaching style has stuck with me for years.
If the class were all teachers with several years experience, I might encourage them to reflect back and make a Top 10 list of the best and worst moments of their careers. To capitalize on the positive however, I might have them go back and make a scrapbook about those best Top 10 and anything else they want to include. I know I've saved little notes and cards students or parents have given me.
I think that in addition to reading about what the Bigwigs think about education and the national history of the various eras, it might be helpful to trace back the timeline of what life was like for the students throughout the history of American education. Even better would be to compare the national timeline with a timeline of the general trends for students in that same era. At one point, students were leaving for summer vacation to work in the fields. There were eras where kids left for war, or eras with fear of violence like the Civil Rights era or post-Columbine. That project would end with an evaluation of where students are now. (I'm thinking about this because the authorities say that kids' heads are "wired" differently than adults, that they process things differently. The old fashioned kind of classroom teaching doesn't reach some of them the way it used to. Alternative types of education are especially needed now for so many kids who can't sit still in a classroom like most of them used to. The trouble is that alternatives translate to money, and times are tight right now.)
What would I want to avoid? While teaching is very personal, I'd want to avoid going overboard with the subjective experiences and make sure that the objective subject matter is still a large focus and a launching point. I'd want to avoid being too cerebral or too hands-on. I'd try to hit a happy medium between lots of thinking about ideology, but also application to the person's situation.
#11 Questions for Dr. Shutkin about himself or the class
What's the name of your boat? :-)
How did you come up with the idea of making this class not merely a recounting of historical events, but instead a blend of the historical foundations with a very personal application?
Personal
My name is Carol D-H (call me Carol--big surprise), a resident of South Euclid, and reachable at cspirit333@roadrunner.com. And, yes, I made my profile picture small on purpose.
I have been a teacher in the South Euclid-Lyndhurst system since finishing undergrad at Notre Dame College. I've taught special education, psychology, journalism, and English. Some years I taught three of those four at the same time. Whoa! Feelings of split personality! On the Mondays that we have department meetings, I didn't know which department I belonged in!
When I started my first M.Ed. in reading, I was teaching special ed. By the time I finished, I was teaching English, so the reading degree kind of bridged them both. My all time favorite though, was teaching psychology because it's so relevant to real life, and I saw the light bulbs go on above kids' heads all the time. I no longer teach psych because of a bureaucratic screw up (i.e., the principal at the time said I couldn't have a schedule split between English and psychology, even though I'd had a split schedule for years. Duh.).
Right now I teach Freshman English and Junior English, though the latest word is that they're adding Sophomore English next year too. Now I'll have three courses to prepare for each night instead of two (sigh*), but I'm one of the fortunate ones because other friends in the department were laid off, thanks to the cut-backs by the State of Ohio.
What makes me special? How do you answer that with any modesty at all??? My dad wasn't supposed to be able to have children because of a fever, but I arrived anyway. I was named after him, and after his father, and his father, and his mother. I'm at least the 5th Carol or Carl in the family. My dad died when I was four. When I married, I hyphenated my name to honor dad, but also to hang onto the chain of being the fifth CD in the family. My husband didn't mind, and it's helpful that his last name is short.
I used to have hobbies before the demands of teaching ate up all my life. The first atypical factor is teaching in all those different departments. But in the English department alone, since 2008, I've had a new class to teach every year but one. A new preparation is hard work every single night, as you're figuring out what to do that will help the kids the most. I can do some drawing and lay-outs, some writing, and acting (totally unprofessionally). I'm pretty good at generating ideas because I've had to do it so often. Mostly I work at school and work on special activities for Church, and try to have some life with my husband.
Miscellaneous. My favorite color forever is green. I can barely swim, but I'm drawn to the water. I remember to send cards for people's birthdays. We have a tall dog and a short dog: a greyhound and a beagle.
Learning Style and More
Class safety. Yeah, there's a biggie. I can be a healthy participant or be stone silent, depending on whether I feel safe in class--or in any sitution for that matter! To feel safe, I need to not be scorned or mocked. A little positive reinforcement for my comments goes a long way. Classroom safety is vital and something I'm dedicated to providing for my own students. If I feel safe, I blossom. If I feel danger, I keep to myself.
That's part of who I am as a student. I have above average intelligence, like all the rest of you, but I'm good at playing the game of school. I'm thorough, I work hard, and I hate to give up. Some people "climb the mountain" because it's there. I don't do mountains, but I strive for excellence to see if I can reach it. And while I can perform, silently, in a class where I'm not accepted, it's much better to be a part of a thriving educational community. I think that covers a through c.
My learning style is hugely VISUAL. You'll see me taking notes on everything. Seeing the words helps me remember. Teachers used to yell at me for taking too many notes, and I wondered why they didn't leave me alone and go fuss over someone who was struggling. Without understanding it, I had happened upon a system that works for me. I can see vague "pictures" in my head, which can sometimes include where notes are at on a page. I have a friend who's not visual at all and learns completely auditorally. She and I have quite a time comparing our learning experiences--nothing alike!
By nature, I tend to be left-brain: logical, linear, language-oriented, but I have cultivated the use of the right brain aspects too: creativity, seeing things differently, seeing the big picture. We have been given both sets of skills, so why not make the most of both?
When I'm frustrated, I go back and re-check the directions. :-) I try again. I ask someone nearby to double check my steps. I often pray. I talk to the teacher. If none of that helps, I get worked up and wound up and upset. I get frustrated that there ought to be a way to make it work!
What else? Why would anyone want to read all this? 100 points of extra credit for plodding through this far. I may be teaching English, but I really like science. I remember a lot from my schooling and can interconnect ideas. I often remember which teacher taught me what; I suppose it's because the teachers mattered.
The only extenuating circumstance to know about my life situation, is that my Mom is disabled and old. She lives alone on the West Side. She's stable, but one never knows when something could happen suddenly and I'd be called away for an emergency.
Education Past and Present
Okay, here's one that's kind of creepy. My dad was left-handed, and in kindergarten, I was making letters and numbers backwards--probably from watching Dad do things with his other hand. The teacher took me across the hall to an empty classroom and made me trace letters and numbers with my finger--letters and numbers made out of sandpaper! Ugh. Talk about feeling like an outcast. Now if the letters had been made out something soft and fun, that would have been different. Or just think. Bubblewrap! Wouldn't that have been cool?!
Here's a better memory. I remember in kindergarten or first grade having kids come up to me to help them draw something in their picture that they couldn't draw themselves. Sometimes they asked me if I would be an artist when I grew up. (I said yes because I was clueless about the future.) But helping fellow students didn't stop and moved on from pictures to other subjects. It made me feel good to be able to help kids and to be able to explain something in a different way than the teacher had--in case the different explanation helped the kid "get it." When it was time to choose a career, the teaching field was overcrowded, but I took a chance on education because I felt like it was what I was meant to do, what I'd been called to do.
Significant issues facing education.
Well, since kids' well-being is at stake, there's no end to the list of significant issues.
Here's a list for starters.
Bullying in school
Illiteracy
Achievement gap for Black males
Achievement gap for Latinos
Achievement gap for females in math and/or science
Effects of poverty
Effects of single parent homes or parents missing/distant/negligent
Effects of "Screen Addiction" (computers, TV, video games)
Safety/violence/shootings
Diverstiy
Effects of childhood malnutrition
Poor students falling behind without sufficient access to technology
Substance abuse and addiction
Child abuse
Sufficient help/access for special ed students
Gifted programs & other enrichment/ arts being cut
Wise use of medication for behaviorally challenged students
The middle-achieving students falling through the cracks
Teaching impoverished parents about the value of education
Help for parents of students with behavioral and learning problems
State cutbacks affecting students
Merit pay vs. other forms of payment
Validity of state-sponsored standardized testing
And more...
Best class ever: #10
Part of what I'd hope for in this class is what Dr. Shutkin announced for the beginning teachers: to help them examine themselves and their lives and figure out how that affects them as teachers. The trendy word is metacognition, to think about what they're thinking and bring more to their efforts to help kids. Socrates said, an "unexamined life is not worth living."
For those of us who are not beginning teachers, I see this class as an opportunity to pause and reflect. When you've been changed from one department or course to another the way I have, it feels like years of running on the hamster wheel without a chance to stop and reflect. I see this class as a chance to stop and take a time out and think about what I wrote about in my Philosophy of Education class in undergrad and see where I've been, where I'm going, and how I want to get there. I can begin to do that by reading the commentary of professionals and listening to the experiences of my peers in class.
Class activities would include just that: readings by respected authors, discussion with fellow students/teachers, and forced time to sit and reflect. It woulld be helpful to trace the roots of education in our country, project what is likely to happen in the future with the "hot issues," and think about what that means to me as an individual teacher.
In a perfect world with no time constraints, we might watch some of the famous teacher movies like Mr. Holland's Opus or To Sir with Love or Stand and Deliver or Dead Poets Society, and talk about the reality and the fantasy they portray, as well as the feelings that are evoked and the behaviors we'd like to apply to our teaching.
In this perfect time-free world, we might take a unit or a lesson for one of our courses and brainstorm a new way to teach it, a new approach (perhaps with ideas and collaboration from other classmates) and walk away with a thinking-out-of-the-box, dynamite lesson that proves to us that we can teach in ways we may not ever have thought of. The drawback is that not all the students know where they'll be teaching or what they'll be teaching. Something to consider is whether an activity like that is moving away from the course's purpose of covering Foundations. Or rather, has innovative teaching that responds to student needs been one of the most important foundations of teaching all along?
Another fruitful activity might be to encourage students to reflect on the teachers who made the biggest impact on them and why. They could consider mostly the positive influences, but also a couple of the negative (the kind of teacher they'd never want to be). I know I have thought back many times to Mr. Frame, whom I had for sophomore science for just one quarter, but his dynamic teaching style has stuck with me for years.
If the class were all teachers with several years experience, I might encourage them to reflect back and make a Top 10 list of the best and worst moments of their careers. To capitalize on the positive however, I might have them go back and make a scrapbook about those best Top 10 and anything else they want to include. I know I've saved little notes and cards students or parents have given me.
I think that in addition to reading about what the Bigwigs think about education and the national history of the various eras, it might be helpful to trace back the timeline of what life was like for the students throughout the history of American education. Even better would be to compare the national timeline with a timeline of the general trends for students in that same era. At one point, students were leaving for summer vacation to work in the fields. There were eras where kids left for war, or eras with fear of violence like the Civil Rights era or post-Columbine. That project would end with an evaluation of where students are now. (I'm thinking about this because the authorities say that kids' heads are "wired" differently than adults, that they process things differently. The old fashioned kind of classroom teaching doesn't reach some of them the way it used to. Alternative types of education are especially needed now for so many kids who can't sit still in a classroom like most of them used to. The trouble is that alternatives translate to money, and times are tight right now.)
What would I want to avoid? While teaching is very personal, I'd want to avoid going overboard with the subjective experiences and make sure that the objective subject matter is still a large focus and a launching point. I'd want to avoid being too cerebral or too hands-on. I'd try to hit a happy medium between lots of thinking about ideology, but also application to the person's situation.
#11 Questions for Dr. Shutkin about himself or the class
What's the name of your boat? :-)
How did you come up with the idea of making this class not merely a recounting of historical events, but instead a blend of the historical foundations with a very personal application?
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