So,
if someone is reading this from outside my class, here’s the deal: I am
currently taking part in the Seven Valley’s Writing Project, a part of
the National Writing Project and SUNY Cortland. I am conducting
professional research about my own teaching and long term goals, as
well as developing effective literacy instruction for my class (Middle
School Technology Education).
Right
now my research stand as this: I see my goal. My goal is a class where I
set the framework for learning, the objectives, the end-results for my
students. That end result is a student who cares about how the designed
world around them actually works, and feels comfortable diving into any
technological problem, whether fixing their bike or building one from
scratch. I don’t need my students to walk out of my class with all the
answers, but rather have the ability to find their future answers
themselves. Writing the entire time with relevant design journals where
they share tidbits of important knowledge for the future, or arguing one
side of another of the pressing technology problems of our time. This
goal is becoming taller and sharper all the time.
On
the other side of what is a rapidly appearing canyon in my mind is
where I am right now. I am amassing a large and actually quite useful
bank of information. I have learned (and come to believe) that effective
literacy instruction involves students “writing-to-learn” and not just
“learning-to-write” or, worse, just writing because the state says they
have to in tech class. To give physical validity to my canyon metaphor,
my “starting” side has an ever-growing stack of books, articles, and
authors to help get me started.
So,
maybe “canyon” sounds a bit dire, or negative, to describe where I
currently am with my research. Here’s what I mean: I have a clear,
defined starting point. I have a clear, defined ending point. Now it’s
time to build a bridge.
It's Tech Ed., not Ed. Tech.
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Monday, July 16, 2012
Thoughts on Because Writing Matters discussion
Anytime
I read a great book about teaching, or read an inspiring article, full
of great, big ideas, and I get excited and full of thoughts of “Yes!
This sounds awesome” I immediately ask the question “Great, but what can
I actually do with this?”. Far too often, I find that teaching
philosophers and “big idea” people are unconcerned with the practical,
day-to-day application of what they are actually saying. Now, for sure, I
would much rather read big, inspiring, far reaching teaching philosophy
than books of canned lesson plans and courses, but there has to be a
balance. For me, finding that balance is all about breaking the big
abstract ideas into manageable chunks. I’m typically not good at this,
which is why that part of me gets so frustrated when people are so
unconcerned with practical application. I don’t feel I’m good enough at
going from big ideas to useful lessons.
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Introductions?
I’m
not usually one for spelling out personal philosophies, big artist’s
statements, or things of that nature. I’d prefer to let what I say and
do speak for itself and let you tell me what it means. As a child, I
avoided identifying myself as part of any clearly defined group (goth,
punk, nerd, prep) because to me that implies that you have to think and
act a certain way. At the very least, it forms preconceptions in other
people as to how you might think and act. What if I didn’t want to act that way anymore?
If I say that I only stand for teaching philosophies X, Y, and Z, everything I say from that point forward is inevitably passed through the lens of whether it meshed with what I said I stand for previously. I don’t want that lack of freedom. So as I try to lay out what I stand for as a teacher, I am doing this more to help me than I am to tell you, because the simple truth is I don’t know yet what I stand for as a teacher. I have plenty of thoughts, feelings, ideas, and snippets of an overall philosophy, but nothing fully functional or even fully formed. So when I say what I stand for, it should not be considered concrete, as it might change by the year, by the week, or even by the minute. If there is one philosophy of mine that I hope does not change it is the recognizance of the changing nature of my thoughts. I don’t ever want to “know it all”.
So: What do I know, or at least believe, right now? I know that I am a technology teacher. I know that it is easier for me to say “shop” instead of “technology” to tell other people what I teach, and I know that this fact frustrates me greatly. I know that I just finished my first year as a teacher. I know that I received satisfactory evaluations by my administrators, but I don’t believe I did a satisfactory job. I know that my students learned a lot this year, but I don’t believe they learned the right things. I believe there is a better way for students to learn. I know I am going to find it.
If I say that I only stand for teaching philosophies X, Y, and Z, everything I say from that point forward is inevitably passed through the lens of whether it meshed with what I said I stand for previously. I don’t want that lack of freedom. So as I try to lay out what I stand for as a teacher, I am doing this more to help me than I am to tell you, because the simple truth is I don’t know yet what I stand for as a teacher. I have plenty of thoughts, feelings, ideas, and snippets of an overall philosophy, but nothing fully functional or even fully formed. So when I say what I stand for, it should not be considered concrete, as it might change by the year, by the week, or even by the minute. If there is one philosophy of mine that I hope does not change it is the recognizance of the changing nature of my thoughts. I don’t ever want to “know it all”.
So: What do I know, or at least believe, right now? I know that I am a technology teacher. I know that it is easier for me to say “shop” instead of “technology” to tell other people what I teach, and I know that this fact frustrates me greatly. I know that I just finished my first year as a teacher. I know that I received satisfactory evaluations by my administrators, but I don’t believe I did a satisfactory job. I know that my students learned a lot this year, but I don’t believe they learned the right things. I believe there is a better way for students to learn. I know I am going to find it.
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Reflections
My end of year reflection, following the template here:
I learned that there is a lot more to teaching than what you’re told about in college. In college we learned about theory, history, methods. We developed wonderful, standard-aligned, perfectly packaged lessons and units with all the elements that perfectly packages lessons and units are “supposed” to have. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. What they don’t tell you, however, is that your typical school day does not contain perfectly packaged students listening to your perfectly packaged lessons and taking perfectly packaged assessments. Again, not that there is anything wrong with that. What have I learned in my first year teaching? What haven’t I learned?! My whole year was learning!
I was stretched by trying to define what exactly I want the kids to know when they walk out my door at the end of the course. There is SO much out there that might possibly be taught by a course called “technology” that I couldn’t begin to cover it all in 10 weeks, 20 weeks, even 400 weeks (Not a typo). How do I take knowledge, skills, and attitudes from every corner of what we call technology and pare it down into the most important pieces for kids to learn. And then how do they prove that they’ve learned it? It’s a gigantic task, one that gets bigger every year with the expanding and ever-changing scope of technology in the world.
I am excited about getting to try it all again. I’m not dissatisfied with my first year of teaching, overwhelming as it was at times. I was told by one of my principals that after his first year teaching he could only remember all the things he did wrong. That’s about where I’m at. But to me that’s exciting, not discouraging. Next year I get to do it all again! I get to make it better, tweaking what works and blowing up what doesn’t! To some that might be scary, but I’m ready to tackle it head-on, and do it until I get it right or they tell me to move on....
I’m beginning to realize: That I really do have the freedom to develop my classroom the way I see fit. I am beginning to realize that, at least for now, I don’t have a specific, state-issued curriculum that I must teach to, with a state-issued test that I must deliver. That is a liberating feeling, but also a scary one. That means it’s up to me.
I learned that there is a lot more to teaching than what you’re told about in college. In college we learned about theory, history, methods. We developed wonderful, standard-aligned, perfectly packaged lessons and units with all the elements that perfectly packages lessons and units are “supposed” to have. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. What they don’t tell you, however, is that your typical school day does not contain perfectly packaged students listening to your perfectly packaged lessons and taking perfectly packaged assessments. Again, not that there is anything wrong with that. What have I learned in my first year teaching? What haven’t I learned?! My whole year was learning!
I was stretched by trying to define what exactly I want the kids to know when they walk out my door at the end of the course. There is SO much out there that might possibly be taught by a course called “technology” that I couldn’t begin to cover it all in 10 weeks, 20 weeks, even 400 weeks (Not a typo). How do I take knowledge, skills, and attitudes from every corner of what we call technology and pare it down into the most important pieces for kids to learn. And then how do they prove that they’ve learned it? It’s a gigantic task, one that gets bigger every year with the expanding and ever-changing scope of technology in the world.
I am excited about getting to try it all again. I’m not dissatisfied with my first year of teaching, overwhelming as it was at times. I was told by one of my principals that after his first year teaching he could only remember all the things he did wrong. That’s about where I’m at. But to me that’s exciting, not discouraging. Next year I get to do it all again! I get to make it better, tweaking what works and blowing up what doesn’t! To some that might be scary, but I’m ready to tackle it head-on, and do it until I get it right or they tell me to move on....
I’m beginning to realize: That I really do have the freedom to develop my classroom the way I see fit. I am beginning to realize that, at least for now, I don’t have a specific, state-issued curriculum that I must teach to, with a state-issued test that I must deliver. That is a liberating feeling, but also a scary one. That means it’s up to me.
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