Friday, May 16, 2014

Moving from delivering curriculum to creating the context for learning

Who am I, as a teacher, and what is the purpose of my craft?

After almost 30 years of teaching, I continue to regularly question my role as a teacher and the purpose for my daily practice. In fact, contrary to popular opinion, which believes that the more you do something the more confident and comfortable you should become with it, the more I’m in teaching the more questions I have about it. Some may interpret this as perhaps a sign that I may have chosen a career that “wasn’t for me”. I chose to look at it as an affirmation that I am exactly where I should be. The very fact that I continue to question what I do, indicates that I am still learning and I am still engaged. We speak often of the necessity of remaining uncomfortable with how we position ourselves in the world, for when we become comfortably numb we become passive observers of the world instead of active participants in it. So what does this all have to do with teaching? I suppose the very fact that I am writing about yet another seemingly uncomfortable position, wherein I am questioning myself, my role and my craft on a regular basis, indicates that I am still alive and well. For as long as we are reflexive practitioners we continue to engage our students in the learning process and WE will continue to engage as well.

I believe the true indicator of success is that teachers and students are both LEARNERS!  Both reveal the learning to each other.  When a teacher is truly a responsive teacher who cares about engaging her students in the learning process, she cannot rely solely on the predetermined curriculum and worry about whether or not she can ‘cover’ the curriculum. Rather, her teaching should be directed by the learning needs of her students and she should be concerned about whether or not she has helped her students to ‘discover’ learning. “Good teaching requires courage…the courage to expose one’s ignorance as well as insight, to invite contradiction as well as consent, to yield some control in order to empower the group, to evoke other people’s lives as well as reveal one’s own. ( Palmer 1990).Teaching and learning are inseparable.  However, I question what we mean by ‘knowing’ and what we mean by ‘learning’. Whose knowing is valued and what learning is most important? So how do we reform education so that the target for success isn’t being able to reiterate the prescribed curriculum, but, rather, the act of learning to produce meaning, and that the target isn’t a high percentage grade on the report card, but the active knowing that influences action?

We need to rethink learning so that it is liberated from the shackles of the classroom walls and becomes embodied in all that we are and all that we do. And since we are social beings, it is incumbent on educators to make learning a social practice. Students need to see themselves in the learning. It cannot remain a passive act that they witness while they sit at their desks and the teachers impart their wisdom upon them from the front of the classroom. They need to be active participants in this process. They need to be given the opportunities to be engage and contribute to the learning environment and the social community in which they find themselves, be it, the classroom, the school yard, the field trip, the library… If we want their learning to be transformative, then we must provide opportunities for that to happen. Learning needs to be a natural part of their everyday lives, not some separate event that happens between 8:30 am and 3:30 pm from Monday to Friday for 10 months of the year. Learning is a process not and event!

For students to become members of a learning community of practice it must be made explicit to them. I am a true proponent of explicit teaching. When students are made aware of the ‘why’, the ‘what’ and the ‘how’ are more relevant. Helping my students discover the why helps them to define the ‘what’ and the ‘how’ as it relates to them. Only then, in my opinion, will students stay ‘tuned-in’. Sometimes it appears that the  educational system is sifting our kids and making it seem like students chose to ‘drop-out’, when in fact they are being ‘pushed-out’ or ‘tuned-out’ of the learning community of practice because membership is not extended to include ALL students.

It is time for us to continue to explore self-directed learning. Putting students at the helm, equipped with the skills to navigate their own learning based on knowledge that is valuable and relevant to them is the educational reform needed for modern learning and teaching. We must acknowledge the elephant in the room…we must resign ourselves to the fact that the education system of the 1800s, which is still prevalent in some educational circles, needs reform, and that that reform needs to come from the inside out. The torch should be passed onto the students and they should become the writers of their own books, the guides of their own journeys and the leaders of their own futures. As Picene put it, landing a plane is like learning... “No two landings are ever the same. A good pilot [like a good teacher] exercises good judgement; you can’t teach that. You have to give the student lots of opportunities to develop it. And that’s going to mean some rough landings!”

Teaching in a whole new world!
Imagine a world in which every teacher began her day singing the lyrics from Aladdin:
I can show you the world
Shining, shimmering, splendid…
…I can open your eyes
Take you wonder by wonder
Over, sideways and under
On a magic carpet ride
A whole new world

A new fantastic point of view
No one to tell [you] no
Or where to go
Or say [you’re] only dreaming
A whole new world

A dazzling place[you] never knew
But when [you’re] way up here
It's crystal clear
That now I’m in a whole new world with you
Now I'm in a whole new world with you

Unbelievable sights
Indescribable feeling
Soaring, tumbling, freewheeling
Through an endless diamond sky
A whole new world

Don't you dare close your eyes
A hundred thousand things to see
Hold your breath - it gets better
I'm like a shooting star
I've come so far
I can't go back to where I used to be
A whole new world

Every turn a surprise
With new horizons to pursue…
There's time to spare
Let me share this whole new world with you
A whole new world
That's where we'll be
For you and me
It’s a whole new world
It never seizes to amaze me that when a group of educators gather in a room it is transformed into a magical world of wonder or is it? The song lyrics from Aladdin describes what I felt when I first entered the wonderful world of teaching. My excitement was infectious and my commitment and dedication to helping kids learn was always driven by my passion to empower students and to stimulate their imagination. I never ‘named’ my craft. I never thought about barriers that might impede my journey or the journey of my students. My naivete was the fuel that thrust us into orbit. My ingenuous intentions strengthened my ability to afford learning to happen in my classroom. Was I jaded by the myths that kept surfacing like spot fires in a forest? No, not I …I would overcome all obstacles and leap tall building in a single bound…I was super teacher! But the costume got harder to put on because the phone booths got harder to find. Contrary to the myths that surrounded me about learning and literacy, my students and I would survive…one year at a time.

The mainstream discourse that echoed within the halls didn’t always serve my students, so I had to find ways to engage them and help them to understand that their discourse had a place in my classroom and that they should expect it to have a place in every classroom. If learning is, as has been echoed by numerous expects, a ‘social phenomenon’ then is our obligation to foster an environment in our classrooms that affords students to learn not simply by passively listening to formal instruction, but more importantly to learn by engaging in reading and writing with others, and becoming catalysts for social action. For this to happen, my middle-class discourse will have to be open to the discourses of my students’ and only then will they be provided the key to enter the wonderful world of learning. Was I aware of the impact of this decision, perhaps not, but I did it intentionally. And it is for that reason that I am a firm believer of explicit teaching and learning.
According to education experts this wonderful world of education is filled with so many myths about literacy and learning that the sky becomes cloudy and the horizons diminish. It becomes incumbent upon us, as educators, to dispel those myths and encourage our students to use their imagination as a vehicle to exercise their personal power and engage in social action, for as Allan Luke says: “literacy teaching is always first and foremost a social practice, one that is constrained and enabled by the changing economics and politics of schooling and communities.” Teaching reading and writing isn’t only done using one method. There are numerous methods within the education world that claim to be the ‘answer’ to the debate on how best to teach reading and writing. In my early teaching years, I thought that the method that the principal, at my school, prescribed as the method of teaching reading and writing would cure the ‘problem’ of those students who just ‘didn’t get it’. How very naïve was I to think that we could exorcise the disengagement out of our students by excluding them from their peers and forcing them to follow one program that disadvantaged them before they had even begun. Such thinking was founded on the premise that all students are the same and therein lies the rub, as Shakespeare put it. There is not one program that will work for all students. It’s not just about teaching and learning in ‘context’, but rather how to teach and learn so that students can respond to the changing ‘contexts’ in which they find themselves. It is all about a whole new world.
I will tenaciously continue in my capacity as a teacher, a curriculum coordinator and a member of society to hone in on literacy as a social practice, because students don’t learn to read and write from my instruction, but rather from my actions. What I do, what I say and what and how I read and write will impact my students more than the lesson on conjugating verbs. I will pay attention to the social, cultural and economic aspects of the journey that fails our disenfranchised students, over and over, and I will forever be grateful for having had my convictions challenged to the point of discomfort, for it has afforded me the good sense to be more critical in my approach to teaching reading and writing and realizing that it’s never a fait accompli.