Resisting What I Know

Posted in Philosophy of EducationTeaching on Nov 24, 2009 - 03:36 PM

This past September, I was hired to teach first grade at a private Islamic school. The school housed grades K-12, and in addition to the standard language arts, mathematics, science and social studies; religious instruction and Arabic language were also offered. Due to low enrollment and a reduction in the anticipated school budget, I was laid off shortly after being hired. In the brief one week period that I actually taught, I struggled between doing what was right versus doing what was easy. In other words, I strived to teach in a manner that lived up to my ideals. However, I found myself defaulting to methods and practices that I despised about my own education.

My adventure in teaching wasn't exactly planned. I didn't major in education nor do I have a masters degree. I'm in the nascent stages of the certification process, and I didn't start that until after I had already started my job. At the same time, I have always had an interest in working with children and youth, especially in a way that would empower them, and felt that education was one of the fields that would allow me to do that. Teachers, I believe, can have an exponential positive effect: in other words, a good educator has the power to help their students realize their talents and potential, and to help them become positive change agents. However, I doubt that more education or state licensing would have given me the capital to teach in a way different from the way in which I was taught.

I had started to lose my struggle to teach ideally by the middle of the week. That day, it so happened that my husband, a firm believer in democratic child-rearing and education practices, had to pick me up from work due to car issues. I began to discuss the day with him, talking about assignments I had given to my kids during the day. I discussed how much they hated writing, how much they hated copying words and sentences from the board. At that point, our discussion took an interesting turn:

Husband: Why do they have to write in the first place?

Tanya: Because they need to become familiar with words and sentences.

Husband: Why don't you allow them to write things that they like to write?

Tanya: This is what we had to write in first grade, and writing things repetitively will allow them to become familiar with words.

Husband: So, why can't they have fun with it?

Tanya: Life isn't fun, and it's better that they learn that sooner in life rather than later.

GASP. My husband looked at me as if I had turned into a werewolf. He then asked, “Are you listening to yourself? That's just evil, Tanya."

It took me a good five minutes to stop hating him for being right before I actually acknowledged how right he was. I threw faulty defenses like “You don't know how hard it is to be a teacher," at him, but I knew deep down that he had a point -- a very, very good point.

Needless to say, the next day, I gave the kids more freedom and came up with a more creative lesson plan for language arts. I also began to reflect, and realized how scary it was for me to live up to the ideals I read about and believed in, like some “fear of the unknown.”

At the same time, I'm optimistic about my journey ahead. I believe nothing but good can come of the whole "unschooling" process.

Tags for this entry:
curriculum, k-12 education, freedom, classroom strategies, writing, ideals, fun, fear, uncertainty

Comment using your Facebook account: