How is this experience shaping your teacher identity? Give specific examples/stories.
If you were to stumble upon my 5th grade yearbook, you would find that my sole ambition was “to be a 3rd grade teacher.” Many years have passed between then and now, and despite a brief stint in my junior year of high school (where I was under the impression that I would move to Vermont and live in a log cabin and write pages and pages full of prose), that goal has remained constant.
I have spent my entire life as a student. This semester, I was able to catch a glimpse of what it felt like to be on the other side. Being able to work with these children has been such a humbling and rewarding experience. I grew up in a predominantly white, middle class town, and I had never really been exposed to anything else until I set foot in Lilac Elementary. To read and discuss all of the articles presented in this class while simultaneously experiencing the issues in a classroom firsthand was truly eye-opening. I suppose I was aware of racism and oppression on a very basic level, but now I realize what a pressing problem it is, especially after reading "Who, Me? What It Means to Be Involved in Privilege and Oppression" by Allan Johnson. It has made me so much more appreciative of the differences in culture and class. As I write this, I am realizing that before this experience, I was extremely ignorant and dismissive. I was participating in the system of privilege that Johnson compares to a game of Monopoly. As future teachers, we cannot condone this system. We cannot assume that Lucy will be pregnant at age 14 and drop out of school. We cannot get upset with Rita when she doesn't understand the way certain letters blend together to form specific sounds. We must be certain that Lucy realizes she can do anything that she chooses, instead of demanding that she choose from a list of options that have been chosen for her. We must remember that Rita grew up in a household where Spanish was the primary language, and that English is probably very scary and foreign to her.
Now that I'm aware, I am angry. My main objective now is to take that anger and use it to create the drastic change that needs to occur. I do not want to be the kind of teacher who expects students to conform to my own set of beliefs and ideals simply because it is "the way things are." I want each of my students to bring their individual stories and experiences and talents, and I want to embrace all of those things so that I can shape my curriculum to suit their needs and desires. I hope I remember to tell every child I encounter that they are valuable and capable and deserving.
And I hope that they believe me.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Friday, December 11, 2009
When parents and teachers collide
Imagine that you are the teacher of this classroom. What challenges might you encounter in collaborating with the parents of your students? How might you address these challenges? How might you demonstrate respect fort the concerns or contributions of parents?
One of the first few times I volunteered at Lilac Elementary, Michelle came in an hour late and Ms. Lennon inquired the cause of her lateness. Michelle snapped her head around, her colorfully beaded braids clanking against each other, and simply replied "My mama hadda do my hair!" Ms. Lennon remarked that although Michelle's hair was beautiful, school was slightly more important. It made me wonder how I might handle situations with parents who may not consider their child's education as important as I would hope. I think that I would try as much as I could to help my students understand how exciting and essential education is, so that they are more likely to invest time and effort into their work. Collaborating with parents, however, is extraordinarily important as well as inevitable. I think the main goal is to help parents understand that I am trying to work with them, that I am not the enemy, and that their involvement is appreciated and necessary. At the same time, I need to be willing to accept indifference for what it is; there is only so much I can do.
On the other end of the spectrum, there are parents who are extremely involved in their child's education. Last year, my little brother was in 5th grade, and a group of parents had gotten together and started a petition against his teacher. They claimed that she was giving far too much homework, and they wanted to put a stop to it. My mother thought this notion was ridiculous-- the workload, though challenging, was certainly not impossible, and it was clearly assigned with the idea in mind that these students would soon be entering middle school, where the amount of homework would increase. My mother actually asked me what I would do if I were attacked by an army of "momly moms" (a term we developed for alarmingly enthusiastic yet condescending mothers who appear to thrive on town gossip). I told her that if I spoke to each parent individually, they would probably be more willing to voice their true concerns and to listen to my own. There will always be a bit of conflict between parents and teachers; we both believe we have the best interest of the child in mind, and sometimes the suggestions we have cannot coexist peacefully and effectively. I think the best thing that I can do is listen without judging too quickly, and present my beliefs and ideas in a manner that is not arrogant or confrontational.
One of the first few times I volunteered at Lilac Elementary, Michelle came in an hour late and Ms. Lennon inquired the cause of her lateness. Michelle snapped her head around, her colorfully beaded braids clanking against each other, and simply replied "My mama hadda do my hair!" Ms. Lennon remarked that although Michelle's hair was beautiful, school was slightly more important. It made me wonder how I might handle situations with parents who may not consider their child's education as important as I would hope. I think that I would try as much as I could to help my students understand how exciting and essential education is, so that they are more likely to invest time and effort into their work. Collaborating with parents, however, is extraordinarily important as well as inevitable. I think the main goal is to help parents understand that I am trying to work with them, that I am not the enemy, and that their involvement is appreciated and necessary. At the same time, I need to be willing to accept indifference for what it is; there is only so much I can do.
On the other end of the spectrum, there are parents who are extremely involved in their child's education. Last year, my little brother was in 5th grade, and a group of parents had gotten together and started a petition against his teacher. They claimed that she was giving far too much homework, and they wanted to put a stop to it. My mother thought this notion was ridiculous-- the workload, though challenging, was certainly not impossible, and it was clearly assigned with the idea in mind that these students would soon be entering middle school, where the amount of homework would increase. My mother actually asked me what I would do if I were attacked by an army of "momly moms" (a term we developed for alarmingly enthusiastic yet condescending mothers who appear to thrive on town gossip). I told her that if I spoke to each parent individually, they would probably be more willing to voice their true concerns and to listen to my own. There will always be a bit of conflict between parents and teachers; we both believe we have the best interest of the child in mind, and sometimes the suggestions we have cannot coexist peacefully and effectively. I think the best thing that I can do is listen without judging too quickly, and present my beliefs and ideas in a manner that is not arrogant or confrontational.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Personal histories & sociocultural characteristics
The culturally competent teacher is aware of the diverse cultural groups represented in his/her classroom, investigates the sociocultural factors that influence student learning, and is able to integrate this knowledge into his/her teaching. No one enters a classroom without a personal history; thus, no one enters a classroom completely free of bias. How might your personal history/sociocultural characteristics intersect with those of your students? What challenges or advantages might you have as a teacher in this classroom? What misconceptions about various cultural groups have you confronted during this experience?
When the reading program began, we all received the groups we had been assigned. Mrs. Lennon, the reading coach, asked who was responsible for group C. I glanced down at my folder and raised my hand. “This is a tough group,” she said, “and they are absolutely crazy! You have to be very alert and firm with them.” I was nervous; I am a relatively timid person, and I doubted my ability to command their focus and attention. We played a rhyming game that day. Three of the four students present that day seemed to understand the activity. Little Harrison, however, did not seem engaged in the activity. I changed the rules around in an attempt to peak his interest. He started playing and soon began to enjoy himself; he was pleased with all of the matches he was able to make. I noticed that he was muttering to himself, and I caught words like “loser” and “jail” and “stupid.” Once the session came to a close and my group members started heading back to their classrooms, I pulled a chair up next to him and inquired what he was talking about earlier. He said that his brother was in jail for putting “steak in his pants,” and that his mother told him that he would also end up in jail if he did not do well in school. I asked him if that was why he did not want to participate in the activity. He told me that he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to create matches for some of the rhymes, and that his mother would somehow find out and think he was “stupid.” I told him that he was exceptionally bright, and I asked him if he noticed if any of his peers got an answer “wrong” today. He said he couldn’t remember, and I pointed out that the other students would not be likely to remember if he made a mistake on one of the words. He smiled, and I hoped that quelled some of the apprehension he faced. I could not imagine what it would be like to grow up thinking that there are only two options: school or jail.
The exchange I had with this student reminded me of the dialogue I read in Jonathan Kozol’s article “Still Separate, Still Unequal: America’s Educational Apatheid," where a young woman is required to take a hairdressing course instead of an AP class she wanted to take in order to prepare for college. I think that most children have the inherent desire to be successful. I do not believe that it is wrong to offer hairdressing classes-- nor do I intend to diminish their value-- but I do believe that if a student wishes to pursue something, they should be able to do so. Some educators or schools may set up programs based on what the "majority" of students in a given area end up acheiving. Although these people may have good intentions, their actions are detrimental. To insist that a person is only capable of performing the type of work associated with the stereotype that applies is demeaning and limiting. That a school could stand in the way of helping a student reach his or her full potential is not only contradictory-- it is absurd. Every student should have the opportunity to reach their goals. If the idea that Harrison is valuable, intelligent and capable is not instilled at home, it is vital that every person he encounters in school reinforces and supports that very truth.
When the reading program began, we all received the groups we had been assigned. Mrs. Lennon, the reading coach, asked who was responsible for group C. I glanced down at my folder and raised my hand. “This is a tough group,” she said, “and they are absolutely crazy! You have to be very alert and firm with them.” I was nervous; I am a relatively timid person, and I doubted my ability to command their focus and attention. We played a rhyming game that day. Three of the four students present that day seemed to understand the activity. Little Harrison, however, did not seem engaged in the activity. I changed the rules around in an attempt to peak his interest. He started playing and soon began to enjoy himself; he was pleased with all of the matches he was able to make. I noticed that he was muttering to himself, and I caught words like “loser” and “jail” and “stupid.” Once the session came to a close and my group members started heading back to their classrooms, I pulled a chair up next to him and inquired what he was talking about earlier. He said that his brother was in jail for putting “steak in his pants,” and that his mother told him that he would also end up in jail if he did not do well in school. I asked him if that was why he did not want to participate in the activity. He told me that he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to create matches for some of the rhymes, and that his mother would somehow find out and think he was “stupid.” I told him that he was exceptionally bright, and I asked him if he noticed if any of his peers got an answer “wrong” today. He said he couldn’t remember, and I pointed out that the other students would not be likely to remember if he made a mistake on one of the words. He smiled, and I hoped that quelled some of the apprehension he faced. I could not imagine what it would be like to grow up thinking that there are only two options: school or jail.
The exchange I had with this student reminded me of the dialogue I read in Jonathan Kozol’s article “Still Separate, Still Unequal: America’s Educational Apatheid," where a young woman is required to take a hairdressing course instead of an AP class she wanted to take in order to prepare for college. I think that most children have the inherent desire to be successful. I do not believe that it is wrong to offer hairdressing classes-- nor do I intend to diminish their value-- but I do believe that if a student wishes to pursue something, they should be able to do so. Some educators or schools may set up programs based on what the "majority" of students in a given area end up acheiving. Although these people may have good intentions, their actions are detrimental. To insist that a person is only capable of performing the type of work associated with the stereotype that applies is demeaning and limiting. That a school could stand in the way of helping a student reach his or her full potential is not only contradictory-- it is absurd. Every student should have the opportunity to reach their goals. If the idea that Harrison is valuable, intelligent and capable is not instilled at home, it is vital that every person he encounters in school reinforces and supports that very truth.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Sensitivity to sociocultural & linguistic differences
The culturally competent teacher communicates in ways that demonstrate sensitivity to sociocultural and linguistic differences, using a variety of verbal and non-verbal communication techniques that encourage positive social interaction and support learning in their classroom. How have you (or the classroom teacher) communicated in ways that demonstrate sensitivity and responsiveness to sociocultural and linguistic differences?
Several weeks ago, I was observing Ms. Rigby introduce an activity. The children were sitting on the rug, and she was asking each student to give an example of what they might ask to receive as a gift for Christmas. Most of the students were eager to share what they wanted, which significantly increased the noise level. Many were speaking without first raising their hand, despite knowing it was against the rules. Ms. Rigby turned to the class and rhetorically asked “How many times have I had to speak to you today?” The children fell silent, and one little girl raised her hand. Some of the children seemed appalled that their peer would raise their hand at such a time like this; others barely noticed. Ms. Rigby called on her. “Three times! You talked to us three times today,” she replied. Instead of getting upset or scolding her student, Ms. Rigby simply said “Thank you, Ramona. I have had to speak to all of you about the noise level three times today. That is three times too many!” I smiled to myself. I understood how such a situation could be frustrating to a teacher, but I was so happy that Ms. Rigby did not react the way some people might have. Instead, she realized that Ramona had asked a question, and that questions generally warrant responses. Ramona did not intend to be rude or funny; all she knew was that her teacher had asked a question to which she knew the answer.
This experience strongly tied to Lisa Delpit‘s article “The Silenced Dialogue: Power and Pedagogy in Educating Other People’s Children,” where the vast cultural differences in verbal communication deeply affect the way children perceive and interpret instruction. It is highly probably that a white child raised by a middle class family is accustomed to commands given in question format. It is not quite as common for a black child raised in the the city to be used to such language. They are more likely to respond to “Don’t touch that stove!” than they would be to an adult asking “Do you think you should be touching that stove?” It is extremely important that educators are aware of the sociocultural and linguistic differences that exist in the classroom. It would be horribly unfortunate to punish a student for responding to a question or command “incorrectly” simply because they were not exposed to such language and usage. It is not something within their control; if they do not mimic or learn this behavior or method of communication from their family, they will not know how to respond to it in a classroom setting.
Several weeks ago, I was observing Ms. Rigby introduce an activity. The children were sitting on the rug, and she was asking each student to give an example of what they might ask to receive as a gift for Christmas. Most of the students were eager to share what they wanted, which significantly increased the noise level. Many were speaking without first raising their hand, despite knowing it was against the rules. Ms. Rigby turned to the class and rhetorically asked “How many times have I had to speak to you today?” The children fell silent, and one little girl raised her hand. Some of the children seemed appalled that their peer would raise their hand at such a time like this; others barely noticed. Ms. Rigby called on her. “Three times! You talked to us three times today,” she replied. Instead of getting upset or scolding her student, Ms. Rigby simply said “Thank you, Ramona. I have had to speak to all of you about the noise level three times today. That is three times too many!” I smiled to myself. I understood how such a situation could be frustrating to a teacher, but I was so happy that Ms. Rigby did not react the way some people might have. Instead, she realized that Ramona had asked a question, and that questions generally warrant responses. Ramona did not intend to be rude or funny; all she knew was that her teacher had asked a question to which she knew the answer.
This experience strongly tied to Lisa Delpit‘s article “The Silenced Dialogue: Power and Pedagogy in Educating Other People’s Children,” where the vast cultural differences in verbal communication deeply affect the way children perceive and interpret instruction. It is highly probably that a white child raised by a middle class family is accustomed to commands given in question format. It is not quite as common for a black child raised in the the city to be used to such language. They are more likely to respond to “Don’t touch that stove!” than they would be to an adult asking “Do you think you should be touching that stove?” It is extremely important that educators are aware of the sociocultural and linguistic differences that exist in the classroom. It would be horribly unfortunate to punish a student for responding to a question or command “incorrectly” simply because they were not exposed to such language and usage. It is not something within their control; if they do not mimic or learn this behavior or method of communication from their family, they will not know how to respond to it in a classroom setting.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Environment & Values
When I first arrived at Lilac Elementary School, I was extremely apprehensive. I had not been in an elementary school since I was a student myself, and I had no idea how my experience would unfold. I was unsure of which door I should enter, so when I spotted a few students skipping toward an entrance, I followed them inside.
The exterior of the building was somewhat bleak and unwelcoming, so I was pleasantly surprised when I walked in; the walls were covered in bright hues and artwork. Whatever the building lacked in recent renovations and copious amounts of new technology it certainly made up for in character.
I checked in at the office and was instructed to have a seat and wait for the reading coach to come down. As I waited, I listened to the principal make the morning announcements, which included the word of the week. The word of that particular week currently escapes me- it was either “effort” or “respect.” She gave the definition of the word and used it in a sentence. I thought this was a fun way to introduce new and valuable words into students’ vocabulary; I always look at the word of the day online! The reading coach ended up being out that week (this turned into a frequent occurrence; she is expecting a baby in February), so an assistant showed us around the school. I thought it was great that most of the signs and posters on the walls were written in both English and Spanish- something I was not accustomed to at the elementary school I once attended. Whenever I spotted a class in the hallway, they were always perfectly lined up and quiet. Another thing I caught early on in this school is that the children were instructed to hold doors for other people. Whenever a child was in front of me (even if I was at the other end of the hallway), they would open the door and stand there until I passed through the threshold. It was evident that order and respect are two things instilled in this school.
For the first few days, I was assigned to Ms. Rigby’s room. She wore a scarf in her hair and was seemed relatively young. I was a little intimidated by her at first, because she managed to be direct/firm and creative/easy-going at the same time. It was clear that she preferred to exercise authority and instruction in an unconventional way, which is something I truly admired. After helping out there, I was able to peek into the other classrooms. Unlike the classroom I had been in, the others seemed more structured. The children were expected to sit neatly and keep from fidgeting. In one of the rooms, I noticed the teacher repeatedly commanded the students to “focus.” The set of values and expectations very obviously varied from room to room. I am hesitant to conclude that the school gives off any one particular vibe, simply for the fact that many people perceive the same environment differently. There is no way to compare certain values or beliefs, or to state that some are better than others; that they can coexist is amazing and humbling in and of itself.
The exterior of the building was somewhat bleak and unwelcoming, so I was pleasantly surprised when I walked in; the walls were covered in bright hues and artwork. Whatever the building lacked in recent renovations and copious amounts of new technology it certainly made up for in character.
I checked in at the office and was instructed to have a seat and wait for the reading coach to come down. As I waited, I listened to the principal make the morning announcements, which included the word of the week. The word of that particular week currently escapes me- it was either “effort” or “respect.” She gave the definition of the word and used it in a sentence. I thought this was a fun way to introduce new and valuable words into students’ vocabulary; I always look at the word of the day online! The reading coach ended up being out that week (this turned into a frequent occurrence; she is expecting a baby in February), so an assistant showed us around the school. I thought it was great that most of the signs and posters on the walls were written in both English and Spanish- something I was not accustomed to at the elementary school I once attended. Whenever I spotted a class in the hallway, they were always perfectly lined up and quiet. Another thing I caught early on in this school is that the children were instructed to hold doors for other people. Whenever a child was in front of me (even if I was at the other end of the hallway), they would open the door and stand there until I passed through the threshold. It was evident that order and respect are two things instilled in this school.
For the first few days, I was assigned to Ms. Rigby’s room. She wore a scarf in her hair and was seemed relatively young. I was a little intimidated by her at first, because she managed to be direct/firm and creative/easy-going at the same time. It was clear that she preferred to exercise authority and instruction in an unconventional way, which is something I truly admired. After helping out there, I was able to peek into the other classrooms. Unlike the classroom I had been in, the others seemed more structured. The children were expected to sit neatly and keep from fidgeting. In one of the rooms, I noticed the teacher repeatedly commanded the students to “focus.” The set of values and expectations very obviously varied from room to room. I am hesitant to conclude that the school gives off any one particular vibe, simply for the fact that many people perceive the same environment differently. There is no way to compare certain values or beliefs, or to state that some are better than others; that they can coexist is amazing and humbling in and of itself.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Introduction
My name is Ashley, and I'm an elementary education major with a concentration in English. This is my second year at RIC. My semester is going well so far; all of my classes seem interesting, and I'm happy to be back in school.
When I am not in class, I work part time as a service desk clerk at Stop & Shop (it's as awful as it sounds). I'm an avid people watcher and reader, and I admire all types of expression- especially photography and poetry. I also love driving around aimlessly and playing poker.
The end!
When I am not in class, I work part time as a service desk clerk at Stop & Shop (it's as awful as it sounds). I'm an avid people watcher and reader, and I admire all types of expression- especially photography and poetry. I also love driving around aimlessly and playing poker.
The end!
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