Over the course of the semester, the difficulties and complexities of lesson planning and enactment have become much plainer to me. I feel as though I’ve learned a great deal about myself as a teacher-to-be through planning lessons for books on a variety of levels.
Mainly, this class revealed to me that being a good teacher and achieving learning goals is about more than just planning strong or thoughtful lessons. Although some of my lessons could have been more fully planned, I feel that planning is one of my strong suits. However, enacting a plan is much more challenging. It’s not like writing and then presenting a speech; lesson planning and enacting is so much more difficult, because a plan has to be detailed enough that every minute is used purposefully, but it must also be flexible because student engagement is critical to learning, and you can’t plan for what students are going to say, what questions they’re going to have, etc.
Even so, I feel that the most well-planned lesson I taught this semester was my Kite Runner lesson. I designed handouts and carefully selected graphic organizers that would focus on student thinking about the book. Perhaps the reason I planned this lesson so well was that I was so interested in the book and was fairly excited about the unit focus we’d selected, though most of my peers took it in a different direction than I had imagined. I saw the unit as an examination of the ways the personal and the political worked together in the lives of the characters in the book, but most of the “external conflicts” we talked about were just interpersonal conflicts. I don’t know if this discrepancy was due to my failure to understand exactly what the unit goal had been, or just my different way of interpreting it, or if the unit focus we selected wasn’t clear enough to guide the lessons. Regardless, I think if I were teaching the book/unit in a real classroom, I would do more to draw students’ attention to the political as well as the personal influences that shape each character’s behavior, and perhaps have students think about the ways personal and political conflicts drive their lives.
I think that my two weakest lessons were my Out of the Dust and my The Glory Field lessons. Again, this may be because I was less enthusiastic about the texts and unit foci, or because I was less knowledgeable about the cognitive abilities of the students who would be reading this book—namely junior high students. I never enacted my Glory Field lesson, but I think I would like to re-do my Out of the Dust lesson and perhaps provide a little bit more direction. I was trying to approach the unit focus, looking at place in writing, while being true to the content of my section, which focused more on people. I tried to draw students’ attention to the ways in which objects or symbols in the spaces in the book stood in for people, but I think I did a poor job of explaining this. If I were to go back, I think I would spend more time modeling what I was trying to get at, as several of my peers suggested after viewing the lesson.
I suppose these lessons exemplify what my weaknesses in planning were at the beginning of the semester, because I was really uncomfortable modeling or spending extended periods of time talking. I feel like students should be doing as much of the thinking and talking as possible in a lesson, but it’s hard for me to remember that students, especially middle school students, would need some guidance—they need me to direct their thinking in some ways, and to show them what the type of thinking I’m looking for might look like. I understand the importance of giving additional guidance now, but I still struggle with how much and how frequent that guidance should be. This is because what I see as my greatest weakness in lesson planning now is continual formative assessment. I always have students working on something—usually working in groups, completing worksheets that guide their thinking about the question at hand, or just responding to questions, but how do I collect data about student learning, as the teacher, throughout the lesson?
It was good for me to see how my peers worked out some of these problems themselves, too. As I mentioned, they often interpreted unit foci differently than I did, so it was worthwhile to see the range of possibilities available to me. But what was perhaps more helpful was the opportunity to see the ways some of my peers, who do work with younger student, took up the tasks of planning for the books aimed at younger students. One of my peers in particular seems to me like she will be really good at engaging her 9th graders in ways I would struggle with. Her bingo game, for example, was a great tool to use to motivate younger students, and to formatively assess their understanding of literary concepts. And although I think One of my peers’ visualization activity could have been better executed, the idea of a visual representation of a reading was a really interesting one, and one that could help me track students’ understandings of the passages they’re reading, while they thought about their understandings as well.
Also, reading Peter Smagorinsky was, of course, a really useful guide in unit planning. The type of conceptual units he describes, and the process for planning them, was really a challenging one to work with throughout the semester, but any time I was stuck trying to plan a lesson, I thought back to “okay, what’s their unit assessment going to be? And how can I prepare them for that? And what activities can I do to support that learning?” and while I wasn’t always successful, and it didn’t always make the lesson planning any easier, it did make it more purposeful and thoughtful.
Because I was able to return to Smagorinsky when planning my lessons, I think that typically I was successful in planning lesson sequences that supported learning goals. Whether the ways the lessons actually played out actually supported the learning goals was a different story. Sometimes an activity that seemed so structured in my head—like having students compare groups in TKR and think about the conflicts between the groups—didn’t play out that way in the lesson, probably because, given the slightly different direction of my unit focus from my peers’, I didn’t adequately activate students’ prior knowledge—they weren’t primed to think in the way I was asking them to think. This is why I’ve come to think that the “thinking through a lesson” portion of the Pitt lesson plan can be useful, though I’m not always able to anticipate the difficulties that students would have (as in the case of TKR). But, to work on this, I need to work on formative assessment, so I’m always checking in to see if student learning is happening as planned and, if not, adjusting my instruction to ensure that it does.
1.) I think that my greatest strengths as far as lesson planning are, as I mentioned, coming up with activities that are meant to specifically support the learning goals I set for the lesson. In my TKR lesson, I directed student thinking to the conflicts at play in the novel. In my Out of the Dust lesson, having students look through the text for specific objects that related to characters worked well to direct their thinking about people and place early in the text. And in my Curious Incident lesson, guiding students to examine representations of normalcy in the media and then compare and contrast them with the text worked well to prepare students to think critically about representations of normalcy. Each of these lesson sequences could have been more perfectly executed, but the plan, I think, was well-suited to the goals I’d set.
2.) However, with regard to areas in which I still need to grow, two come to mind. The first is in my ability to come up with motivating activity. I almost always start students out with a quick write, which I think can sometimes be motivating, but when done over and over again, can probably become routine, thoughtless, and dull. So I need to work on motivating activities, which I really struggle with. The other area in which I can continue to grow is formative assessment. It’s not enough to collect exit tickets at the end of class to see if students “get it.” I need to have spaces in my lesson where I can reliably check for understanding and monitor student learning, and students can be made aware of their own learning, as well.
3.) If I had to select only two goals for my development in planning lessons for the Spring, they would be, I suppose, to come up with a greater variety of ways to get students situated in English class than just doing quick writes, and to create a space and a means for formative assessment to happen throughout my lessons rather than just at the end of class.
I have been in and out of the teaching profession since I earned my certification from the University of Pittsburgh in English education in 2012. I studied English at Penn State, where I earned my B.A. and I'm currently working on my M. A. at Middlebury College's Bread Loaf School of English. I just accepted my first permanent teaching position at an online charter school in Pennsylvania.
Showing posts with label praxis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label praxis. Show all posts
13 December 2011
15 October 2011
Professional Development and Colleague Collaboration
Today, I went to the first professional conference of my career/life, the 2011 PCTELA (Pennsylvania Council of Teachers of English and Language Arts), and it was generally a pretty great experience. I got a great deal out of the experience, but I think what stood out the most was the sense of community I got to experience, and the ideas I got to engage with.
Community: Stumbling Upon the Wealth of Professional Resources
We read a lot of theory in our English Education program, which is super important, I think, in guiding every single decision we make in our classrooms (I way our, though I haven't, really, the right to, yet, since I'm still only at my placement once a week, but hopefully you'll tolerate it from me, since being at the PCTELA conference today made me feel like I really am part of a community of professionals, even this early in my career/professional development!). And, of course, in our placements--my placement, at least--theory sort of becomes invisible. I'm often unsure of whether or not there is a theory backing any given choice my MT makes. That's not to say that there isn't, but if there is, I'm not always aware of it.
Being at the conference was interesting because it, perhaps, bridged the gap in some ways. I learned a lot about the different resources available to me as an emerging professional. Who knew there were SO MANY websites out there that cater specifically to English teachers!? I think I knew there were resources out there, but it's nice to have guidance from more expert professionals, because it's often really hard to tell what's a good resource, what's a mediocre one, and what's just downright bad, especially at this stage in my career, while I'm still cementing my own educational theory and philosophy.
And what was really great for me was the exposure to adolescent lit authors. Because I never really had a phase in my life when I read adolescent lit. I picked up the Harry Potter books in high school, and I read a few "adolescent" texts, like The Perks of Being a Wallflower and The Giver, but I'm not much of an educated consumer of adolescent lit texts. So it was really helpful to hear from some people who are respected in the field, and get an idea of what good adolescent lit might look like. I'm already picking some up from my classes, where we've been reading some texts, geared at adolescents, that I've found just beautiful.
Ideas that Made me Stop and Think
In addition to just being blown away by the exponential growth in the pool of resources at my disposal, I also got to hear some really great educators/authors speak on some intellectually provocative topics.
Communities in our Classrooms
They got me thinking about a couple of things. One is how we can establish community in our classrooms. I think my program at Pitt was trying to address this when they asked us to create and enact a lesson in our classroom that promotes literacy community, though I wasn't really sure exactly what that was supposed to mean, and maybe I'm still not quite sure. But in any case, the idea is that in order for our students to do really compelling, inquiry-based, intellectually stimulating and personally relevant work, they have to feel safe in the classroom, trust the instructor and trust each other.
The question is, naturally, how do we get them to that point? And what Ms. Christensen said was basically that it doesn't happen over night. You don't walk into your first day with a group of 30 students, hand them an "I am a scholar" pledge and expect them to be on board with you and trust you implicitly. She suggested that you provide them with a space to share and engage with their personal experiences, but also not force them to go there if they're not ready. She gave me a lot of good ideas, and she also reminded me not to fret--my students at McKeesport don't seem to fully trust me yet, but I'm only there 1 day/week this semester, and I'm only student-teaching--because it takes time and work, and it'll come, if I try, and if I'm trustworthy enough. And I think I'm making progress already!
What's Appropriate in Young Adult Lit (and/or in the English Classroom)?
The other really relevant topic at hand was that of the "appropriate content" for young adult literature. We've (the other English Ed students and our profs) talked a lot in our classes at Pitt about what texts are suitable for us to incorporate in our curricula, and which are too "dangerous." I have to admit, some of these concerns came to my mind, too, when we read James Baldwin's The Fire Next Time and talked about whether or not we might teach the book in our placements, for example. I thought, "this might offend some students, some parents. It might be perceived as racially charged."
But recently, I've been questioning the notion of a dangerous text. There were times and places in the world when education actually was "dangerous," for various people. People have suffered really severe consequences for reading certain texts, for writing or speaking on a certain topic in a certain way. Bringing a book that brings up topics of racism into an English classroom, for example, is NOT dangerous in the same way.
We should be able to ask our students to critique the books we read as representations of the world(s) from which they come, and not as absolute truths. And, anyways, we don't read To Kill a Mockingbird or Oedipus or Romeo and Juliet as texts containing some absolute truth. Some parents would probably not be comfortable with their students reading about a teenage girl who meets a guy who kills her cousin and then plans to elope with him before killing herself, if it were written in a contemporary setting.
Anyways, the topic came up twice today, and just reinforced what I'm coming to believe. Maybe it's because of the age of my students, or maybe it's part of my developing philosophy of education, but I'm now sure that mature topics have a place in YA lit. Ms. Christensen talked about something Sherman Alexie said in his article "Why the Best Kids Books are Written in Blood." ( http://blogs.wsj.com/speakeasy/2011/06/09/why-the-best-kids-books-are-written-in-blood/ )
Our students have mature experiences. They are "young adults," and we call them that because they've had enough life experiences to qualify as approaching adulthood. A lot of them have experienced death and hardship and they're maturing sexually and emotionally--they're not only ready for these books, they need them.
Mr. Crutcher talked a lot about this, too. If we're going to validate YA experiences--in the way that we need to if we're to create a community of learners--we have to present them authentically. Otherwise, they'll know that we're sheltering them, they'll feel like they're "playing school." But if we present books to them that are written to them and for them, that describe things as they "really" are, then school stops being a game, and they can feel like they're really learning something, something tangible and real. It's fine to teach Shakespeare, but teach Alexie, too, and teach what the students are reading, and teach it in a way that students can access and can construct their own meaning through.
These are just sort of tentative thoughts; I can't speak definitively for young adults and say what they expect from books, or what they expect from English classes. But these are my suspicions.
In any case, whether I've formed lasting opinions, or I'm just working my way through my thoughts, it was really great to engage some provocative ideas, and it was really great to think and learn alongside some vet teachers from all different districts and grade levels. It was a really valuable experience, and I can't wait to go to more and more of these things as I become a vet teacher myself!
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