Free and priceless
i just finished wrapping an anonymous gift for a student of mine.
typically, i do not give anonymous gifts to students. typically, i give signed gifts, and i give them to everyone. but either tomorrow or friday, i will be secretly violating a student's lunchbox before the end of the day and leaving a clandestine gift for him to find when he unpacks his lunchbox at home.
...
i subscribe to and practice a particular kind of teaching philosophy, as my friends and most of you, readers, know. now the issue with any philosophy is that it is a mode of thought more than a rule, and modes of thought are generally open to interpretation. and, occasionally, panic.
my school is barely three years old. not even three years old. we are a baby as far as schools are concerned! we are still building our schematic of things, we are still sorting it out, defining our culture. i have always thought that the fact that the teaching philosophy upon which our practice is based would bring a richness and diversity to be celebrated-- in fact, it's brought (at least so far) an angst and a division that is challenging and unfortunate.
***
one of my students who joined me last year thrived in my classroom. his various interests were supported and explored, and the result was a young man, aged 5, with an expansive love of geography and cartography. the world was his baby, his vehicle for exploration, his reason for learning to read, his inspiration for learning to add, multiply and so on ("how big is the earth? how many miles is that? how many feet? how many inches?"). His mapping was intricate, elaborate --and most goldenly, spontaneous. he began with a map of his old classroom. he was soon mapping our classroom, his home, the park near our school, our school, all of our city, our neighboring cities, cities from his imagination, cities from the news, cities inhabited by worms below our feet, cities inhabited by fish in the sea-- the poetry and engineering of this young man's mapping was unmatched by anything-- *anything* --i have seen in my entire life, nevermind my 12+ years teaching.
***
one of the women who has a different take on the teaching philosophy has more years teaching than i. she is also elementary trained, where i am not. she and another of her take have taken responsibility for my "third-levels", my master students, in order to prepare them for our budding elementary program.
before i continue, i would like to say that i have worked in schools which have had elementary programs before. they were typically directed by other people in this same philosophy, but these others had children whose education was more or less completed before No Child Left Behind. the school in which i currently work is staffed nearly entirely by women whose children are below the age of 15-- in short, 99% of the women with whom i work are watching their children develop in educational systems shaped by NCLB. and they are in a panic.
all this talk of accountability...
first: i am all for accountability. actual accountability - to yourself, to your peers, to the entire world around you. for this reason, i hold very, very dear the Big Picture of personal development. i want my students (just as i want myself) to grow up to be kind, compassionate, inquisitive people with a love of learning and a bright spirit-- a spirit that defines them as supporters or leaders in a world of good. idealistic? absolutely! and i have spent the last 12+ years of my life making this a practical work as well. when i have dinner with former students (now 11, 12, 13, 16 years old), i see where my marks lay, and i feel blissfully satisfied and encouraged to continue.
second: i believe in creating opportunities. just as i try to create as many opportunities as possible for myself, i want my students to be the kinds of learners who are able to create opportunities for themselves as well. i understand (and practice toward the fact) that opportunities are often created through developed skills-- the ability to read, the ability to write, the ability to do operative math, the ability to relate to and work cooperatively with peers. i believe in creating these skills as goals.
*however*
i differ from some of my peers about the value of a given skill over the value of a given perception! i do not believe that a child who reads avidly and asks questions fervently and experiments wildly will stumble if she forms her lowercase "a"s via an 11-o-clock start vs. a one-o-clock start. i do not believe that a boy who maps his entire schematic of the world in elaborate grids on paper will be hampered by the fact that he reads visually versus phonetically.
i trust my children. i trust them as much as i trust myself, which is an awful lot.
but no, these other two women do not trust them as much as i do, and have essentially revoked all free choice from these children, saying they were "on vacation" all last year (thanks! i suppose i was, then, too? ladies, do you hear what you are putting out there? i am to gracious to knock your heads together until they bleed, but please know that i do not appreciate these comments). instead, they have taken on the mapping themselves: they have decided which works the children will do when (hello, contradiction of all that is our calling?), and the children have complied for the last two months. one in tears. one out of obligation (she tells her mom, "i don't like those books, but reading them seems to make ms. ____ *so* happy that i do. i don't mind reading them if it makes someone else so happy.") (...! again, contradiction of our ethics!). another because it earns praise from her parents. etc.
but on monday, my cartographer-- who has spent the last two months following directions and matching pictures to words, spelling, multiplying beads and counting by 3s, 4,s, 5s-- actually finished his daily workplan ahead of schedule and was finally, for the first time in literally months, able to choose his activity freely (i swear, i feel like these children are so many cinderellas given chores to do before they can get to the ball, sometimes.)...
and he froze. he wandered aimlessly for a while, and then just stopped and stood in the middle of the practical life area. "B.," I said, "you finished everything Ms. ___ chose for you. What would you like to choose for yourself to do? You can do ANYTHING!"
and he said nothing, his face in a silent panic. i offered, "would you like to make a map?" and he declined, saying, "i've already made my maps"-- indicating the maps of the continents hanging on the wall that he had painstakingly traced, painted and labelled. "not a continent map, B., i mean a street map. Do you remember how you used to make these maps of J. City, N. City, H., and all kind of places from underground or your imagination? Do you want to make something like that? Or a book?" At this, tears sprang from his eyes and he blurted, "i don't know what to do!"
this may seem unremarkable to you, but this was the second of 4 of my third-levels to reject or panic at the idea of something that used to bring him confidence and pure joy not three months ago. it made my heart stop in my chest to hear. this boy was one of my most independent and self-directed learners all last year and into the opening of this year. to hear him at a loss for things to do felt *awful* -- i felt like i was standing in front of one of the case studies cited so often by angeline lillard and the countless other educational psychologists who study choice & free will in education. not only had B's heart gone out of his work, his obedience and willingness to please Ms. ___ and Ms. ___ had entirely supplanted his creative self and personal drive. he had swapped an internal locus for an external locus, and judging by the tears in his eyes, he found the fact to be as alarming as i.
my intern caught the exchange and said she would watch the room while i recomposed the figure of my face, so i excused myself to do that. B., meanwhile, stood by the art shelf and eventually picked out two scraps of paper from the scrap bin to carry around with him for the remainder of the day.
***
i have been doing what i'm doing for over a decade, and this is the first time that i have been moved to sad tears in my own classroom. i hope it never happens again.
***
i don't know if it's NCLB or purely a difference in philosophical angle when looking at this particular teaching model, but these differences are not becoming resolved as time goes on in this school-- as we interview candidates for new positions as we add classrooms, etc., these questions and the associated conflicts (hey, let's call a spade a spade, shall we) are becoming more pronounced. i think it's funny that the classrooms who make the biggest deal about having a peace flower and peace rug and peace table are the ones who are staffed by bullies who would bully old staff, new staff, and *children* all the same. ugh.
anyway, so yes. the faculty at my school -- like every new school, i suppose-- has its bugs to work out.
in the meantime, i counter damage with clandestine gifts of nyc subway maps wrapped in hand-pressed red paper from hong kong. this boy has two homes, geographically, and an extra little one in my heart, too.
typically, i do not give anonymous gifts to students. typically, i give signed gifts, and i give them to everyone. but either tomorrow or friday, i will be secretly violating a student's lunchbox before the end of the day and leaving a clandestine gift for him to find when he unpacks his lunchbox at home.
...
i subscribe to and practice a particular kind of teaching philosophy, as my friends and most of you, readers, know. now the issue with any philosophy is that it is a mode of thought more than a rule, and modes of thought are generally open to interpretation. and, occasionally, panic.
my school is barely three years old. not even three years old. we are a baby as far as schools are concerned! we are still building our schematic of things, we are still sorting it out, defining our culture. i have always thought that the fact that the teaching philosophy upon which our practice is based would bring a richness and diversity to be celebrated-- in fact, it's brought (at least so far) an angst and a division that is challenging and unfortunate.
***
one of my students who joined me last year thrived in my classroom. his various interests were supported and explored, and the result was a young man, aged 5, with an expansive love of geography and cartography. the world was his baby, his vehicle for exploration, his reason for learning to read, his inspiration for learning to add, multiply and so on ("how big is the earth? how many miles is that? how many feet? how many inches?"). His mapping was intricate, elaborate --and most goldenly, spontaneous. he began with a map of his old classroom. he was soon mapping our classroom, his home, the park near our school, our school, all of our city, our neighboring cities, cities from his imagination, cities from the news, cities inhabited by worms below our feet, cities inhabited by fish in the sea-- the poetry and engineering of this young man's mapping was unmatched by anything-- *anything* --i have seen in my entire life, nevermind my 12+ years teaching.
***
one of the women who has a different take on the teaching philosophy has more years teaching than i. she is also elementary trained, where i am not. she and another of her take have taken responsibility for my "third-levels", my master students, in order to prepare them for our budding elementary program.
before i continue, i would like to say that i have worked in schools which have had elementary programs before. they were typically directed by other people in this same philosophy, but these others had children whose education was more or less completed before No Child Left Behind. the school in which i currently work is staffed nearly entirely by women whose children are below the age of 15-- in short, 99% of the women with whom i work are watching their children develop in educational systems shaped by NCLB. and they are in a panic.
all this talk of accountability...
first: i am all for accountability. actual accountability - to yourself, to your peers, to the entire world around you. for this reason, i hold very, very dear the Big Picture of personal development. i want my students (just as i want myself) to grow up to be kind, compassionate, inquisitive people with a love of learning and a bright spirit-- a spirit that defines them as supporters or leaders in a world of good. idealistic? absolutely! and i have spent the last 12+ years of my life making this a practical work as well. when i have dinner with former students (now 11, 12, 13, 16 years old), i see where my marks lay, and i feel blissfully satisfied and encouraged to continue.
second: i believe in creating opportunities. just as i try to create as many opportunities as possible for myself, i want my students to be the kinds of learners who are able to create opportunities for themselves as well. i understand (and practice toward the fact) that opportunities are often created through developed skills-- the ability to read, the ability to write, the ability to do operative math, the ability to relate to and work cooperatively with peers. i believe in creating these skills as goals.
*however*
i differ from some of my peers about the value of a given skill over the value of a given perception! i do not believe that a child who reads avidly and asks questions fervently and experiments wildly will stumble if she forms her lowercase "a"s via an 11-o-clock start vs. a one-o-clock start. i do not believe that a boy who maps his entire schematic of the world in elaborate grids on paper will be hampered by the fact that he reads visually versus phonetically.
i trust my children. i trust them as much as i trust myself, which is an awful lot.
but no, these other two women do not trust them as much as i do, and have essentially revoked all free choice from these children, saying they were "on vacation" all last year (thanks! i suppose i was, then, too? ladies, do you hear what you are putting out there? i am to gracious to knock your heads together until they bleed, but please know that i do not appreciate these comments). instead, they have taken on the mapping themselves: they have decided which works the children will do when (hello, contradiction of all that is our calling?), and the children have complied for the last two months. one in tears. one out of obligation (she tells her mom, "i don't like those books, but reading them seems to make ms. ____ *so* happy that i do. i don't mind reading them if it makes someone else so happy.") (...! again, contradiction of our ethics!). another because it earns praise from her parents. etc.
but on monday, my cartographer-- who has spent the last two months following directions and matching pictures to words, spelling, multiplying beads and counting by 3s, 4,s, 5s-- actually finished his daily workplan ahead of schedule and was finally, for the first time in literally months, able to choose his activity freely (i swear, i feel like these children are so many cinderellas given chores to do before they can get to the ball, sometimes.)...
and he froze. he wandered aimlessly for a while, and then just stopped and stood in the middle of the practical life area. "B.," I said, "you finished everything Ms. ___ chose for you. What would you like to choose for yourself to do? You can do ANYTHING!"
and he said nothing, his face in a silent panic. i offered, "would you like to make a map?" and he declined, saying, "i've already made my maps"-- indicating the maps of the continents hanging on the wall that he had painstakingly traced, painted and labelled. "not a continent map, B., i mean a street map. Do you remember how you used to make these maps of J. City, N. City, H., and all kind of places from underground or your imagination? Do you want to make something like that? Or a book?" At this, tears sprang from his eyes and he blurted, "i don't know what to do!"
this may seem unremarkable to you, but this was the second of 4 of my third-levels to reject or panic at the idea of something that used to bring him confidence and pure joy not three months ago. it made my heart stop in my chest to hear. this boy was one of my most independent and self-directed learners all last year and into the opening of this year. to hear him at a loss for things to do felt *awful* -- i felt like i was standing in front of one of the case studies cited so often by angeline lillard and the countless other educational psychologists who study choice & free will in education. not only had B's heart gone out of his work, his obedience and willingness to please Ms. ___ and Ms. ___ had entirely supplanted his creative self and personal drive. he had swapped an internal locus for an external locus, and judging by the tears in his eyes, he found the fact to be as alarming as i.
my intern caught the exchange and said she would watch the room while i recomposed the figure of my face, so i excused myself to do that. B., meanwhile, stood by the art shelf and eventually picked out two scraps of paper from the scrap bin to carry around with him for the remainder of the day.
***
i have been doing what i'm doing for over a decade, and this is the first time that i have been moved to sad tears in my own classroom. i hope it never happens again.
***
i don't know if it's NCLB or purely a difference in philosophical angle when looking at this particular teaching model, but these differences are not becoming resolved as time goes on in this school-- as we interview candidates for new positions as we add classrooms, etc., these questions and the associated conflicts (hey, let's call a spade a spade, shall we) are becoming more pronounced. i think it's funny that the classrooms who make the biggest deal about having a peace flower and peace rug and peace table are the ones who are staffed by bullies who would bully old staff, new staff, and *children* all the same. ugh.
anyway, so yes. the faculty at my school -- like every new school, i suppose-- has its bugs to work out.
in the meantime, i counter damage with clandestine gifts of nyc subway maps wrapped in hand-pressed red paper from hong kong. this boy has two homes, geographically, and an extra little one in my heart, too.
posted by raritan at 9:24 PM
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