Below is an email exchange
between an alum and me on the topic of “becoming the teacher you want/have to
be…”
The alum writes:
i’m dying here!!! i’m dying here!!!
my 10th period is the class from hell!!!
so far there isn’t much learning going on. mostly it’s
trying to keep some control. they’re
savages!!! LOLOLOLOLOL
ok…here’s what’s really bothering me, and i know you
two will understand. i have to teach them how to write
a paragraph. they (the higher up people;) seem to
believe that if you can teach them how to write a
paragraph (in isolation) they will know how to write a
paper. they (the students) keep asking me, “how many
sentences does it have to be?” and i am under orders
to tell them it’s 8-10 sentences.
i’m not only getting it from school, it’s happening at
home too. my daughter, gwen, asked me,”how many
paragraphs in a narrative?” what? i said, a narrative
is a story…you need enough to tell the story. her
friend adrianna said, “no, it’s 3 paragraphs. i
remember because i got an A on my narrative and it was
3 paragraphs long.”
all my freshmen were required to write an expository
“paragraph” on the issues that cause teens stress.
well, most wrote a “paper” on teens and stress. I
don’t think they understand it’s just a part of a
bigger picture. they set these kids up…they confuse
the hell out of them. right now i have to “learn” how
to write a paragraph “the right way” so i can teach
it.
i feel like i’m lying to these kids…i’m turning into
the kind of teacher i don’t want to be…i’m not a
“change agent,” angelo. i want to keep my job…but i
know that if they would let me teach writing, real
writing, the kids would be better writers. but i also
know that i have to teach them to write for the
test. (the school will have it’s own writing test, and
they will continue to test writing on ACT tests.)
i’m becoming what i detest…i’m ready to just start
passing out dittos in my 10th period…they aren’t
learning anything anyway!!!
guys, send me some words of advice/encouragement…
i wish they’d let me be me. at least i’m better at
that than being what i’m fearful of becoming.
your friend,
****
who didn’t tell her story in 8-10 sentence
paragraphs…or did she?…LOL
[My Response:]
Writing on the run…as always
(Angelo still has…shhh!…one more syllabus to write for tomorrow)….
My only suggestion vis à
vis the tension here between the teacher you want to be and the teacher
they are forcing you to be is…hmmm….can you do both? Can you teach
the kids the real way and the phony way? Can you teach the artificial
forms that the Powers are enforcing, and then just explain to the kids
that those forms are just VERSIONS of narrative or paragraphs…? There
are others as well? Can you illustrate some of the other versions? You
could tell a few spontaneous stories and then break their “form” apart
for the class. You can talk about the process you went through to
create the story. What led you to your choices–rather than getting to
the number 8 (sentences) or 3 (paragraphs) or whatever. You could also
bring into class a stack of writing–narratives of all kinds and
lengths–and you could do a quick scan of some of the features. Make
sure a few of them are short enough so that you could share them in
their entirety with the class. As a group you could infer a list of
criteria for narratives. You could round off the whole exercise with
Garrison Keillor’s anatomy of a narrative. Good stories, Keillor says,
all have FIVE ELEMENTS: mystery, wealth, family relations, sex, and
religion. And he gloats that he has one in 12 words: “‘God,’ said the
banker’s daughter, ‘I’m pregnant; I wonder who it was?'”
Of course you can’t do all this in
one class period, so why don’t you tell the class that from here on out
THAT is your “agenda” as a group (to use Meg’s wonderful word)–to
figure out some of the many versions of narrative, of paragraphs, of
forms. You could do worse as an English teacher.
The bottom line is that
ANYONE who can do “real” narrative can do the phony, school-type in
their sleep. Thus, if you do a good job with the real, you’re home free
with keeping your job. So yes, teach them the phony school type, but do
it with a wink. It’s actually not a bad exercise. But as a bigger
agenda, set a yearlong, class-community-wide agenda for figuring out
what makes a good narrative, what makes a good paragraph… It’s a
grand mission! And the cheap forms of a bureaucratic pedagogy can’t
touch it or harm it…. If anything, a good teacher can use this very
problem to help kids get “meta” about writing and language–getting
students to think about choices and purposes and effects, in ways good
writers always have, if even only intuitively…
I know you’re worried about time.
But the good thing is this: You have ALL YEAR to do the real thing, and
as for the phony stuff–that can be done really quickly. A lot of the
stuff you do in life with a wink can be done really quickly, I find,
but that’s another story. But seriously, if you and your kids are
living the life, as Burke so strikingly puts it, of “linguistic
quizzicality”–full of wonder, amazement, surprise–and sometimes
skepticism, distrust, and disgust–at the powers of language–well, the
kids will learn narratives and paragraphs….(in 8, 9, and sometimes
even 10 sentences…)
You know my next question:
May I use your wonderful story in my blog and share it with my classes?
:)
Keep us posted! And good
luck with the savages of 10th period…(now THAT sounds like a
story…). :) Your friend and sympathizer from the calm of the Ivory
Tower, Angelo
[The Alum’s Response:]
them do book reports. now i know…i know…my goal
is to get them to enjoy reading. today in class, i
told a student that tomorrow he better bring in a novel,
instead of bringing the TRL magazine he was
reading that day, thinking about the “book share” assignment. he just looked at me and said, “why can’t we read what we want?” my heart just stopped. i grabbed
his face and said, “you’re absolutely right. i don’t
know what i was thinking. you read whatever you like.”
this horrible transition seems to be taking over
without my being fully aware of it. ANGELO, OF COURSE
THEY CAN READ WHATEVER THEY WANT!!!!
i keep losing focus…
there’s just so much that needs to be
done!! save me from myself!!!
****
[My Response:]
I can see the care in your eyes as you
told your student, yes, he could read what he wants… But dear friend, I fear
you’re reacting with a tinge of that guilt that all teachers, parents, and responsible
adults feel now and then–particularly when we’re looking out for the child’s
welfare. I think you have to hold the line on the TRL magazine!
It’s just me, and you know that this one voice of mine will ultimately be contradicted
by another voice lurking beneath (in TW this week we’re reading that schizo
Covino…), but…BALANCE is the key (said he, in a shout so loud so as to lose
his footing and fall back…). Reading is so much like a eating–so lifegiving
and pleasurable it is–and there is such a need for a balanced diet for both….
If your daughter kept eating Cheetos day
and night (like someone else’s daughter I know…), and you approached her and
asked her to eat her vegetables…. Would you respond similarly to her
indignant response of “why can’t you just let me eat what I want?” :)
All said with a smile…but, the point is, sometimes the teachers DOES
have to be directive…and structure things… The structures just have
to be the right ones (and I know YOU know what the right ones are…your administration,
I’d say, DOES NOT (or maybe is not yet confident in you (and not just you personally;
I’m sensing that common condition out there of “teacher-proofing” instruction…more
later…)).