Sunday, 4/21/13

Note: To better understand this journal entry, you may want to read this article about learning styles.

Dear Journal,

As a Type 4 learner, I have long struggled with the typical school system. It is very difficult for me to make any sort of meaning out of a lecture, and I see little purpose to cramming meaningless dates, facts, and information into my mind in order to reproduce them on a test. I struggle to keep from resenting a system that assigns a numerical value to my worth as a person based on how well I am able to memorize which exact word the teacher wanted me to remember for a Fill-in-the-Blank quiz, when I can think of any number of words that would fit perfectly well in that blank and even express the desired thought better than the one on the review sheet..

I have learned ways of compensating, I have learned to create mind-maps during lectures, incorporate the facts on my review sheets into things that were meaningful to me, and share, share, share what I'm learning in every way I can. Unfortunately I never have, and doubt that I ever will, find a way to make analytical written summaries meaningful... and I will confess that in more recent years, I have somewhat given up the fight and taken C's and D's in my classwork so that I could throw my energy into more meaningful learning. I learned that, after all, the letter grade doesn't determine my value as a person and for that I am very thankful. Just because my report card is a mess doesn't mean I'm not intelligent, creative and imaginative, it just means I'm fed up with the system.

With this background, sometimes it seems ironic to me that I'm willingly entering into a lifetime of working in the system that I despise so much. But here I am, signing on heart and soul.

Why?

Because I have a vision.

I want to create a classroom where the textbook/teacher isn't the ultimate authority, and where tests are based on how well you can perform rather than how well you can memorize. 
As a student I often dreamed of that classroom where meaningful learning happened-- where creativity was celebrated and students were encouraged to experiment for themselves. I envisioned myself as a facilitator of learning, merely setting up a framework in which students could discover meaningful connections and apply information in real-world applications. I wanted to be the teacher I always wished that I could have. It was highly shocking, then, to discover that not everybody wishes for that kind of teacher.

In my freshman year of college, I was managing a group of students in the school bakery, where I worked. At some point in the friendly banter that morning, I said, "I'm sorry guys! I'm just not good at explaining to people what to do!" One of my crew threw back, "And you're trying to become a teacher??"

It was like a bolt of lightening struck and everything froze for several moments. It had never occurred to me that a teacher was supposed to tell people what to do. I hate it when people tell me what to do! I want to figure it out on my own in some kind of meaningful way. But most people aren't like me. Some people want clear, concise, factual, detailed explanations...

Suddenly I was afraid of the classroom. I had never been fearful of it before. I had thought of it as a place of boundless opportunity and potential to try, and create, and develop, and watch people come alive-- now it seemed like a frightening, scary situation where people would be expecting me to give clear explanations, and know all the details and facts. They would be frustrated with me and upset that I didn't just lecture them and give them a regular test like they were used to.

My 4's and 3's and 1's would love me, of that I was reasonably certain. But how would I ever teach my 2's? 2's are used to easily excelling in a classroom because classrooms are designed for them and my classroom wouldn't be. Would they be able to deal with this out-of-the-box, slightly scattered, spontaneous teacher? Would they be able to learn anything in my classroom?

This year of teaching, both at Laurelbrook and Ouachita, has taught me a lot about myself, but up to this point I haven't had any satisfying idea of whether or not I was reaching my 2's.

My 4's? Oh, they love my classes. This past week, as I worked after-hours with Miss Vociferant on her PowerPoint (Mrs. Walden, she's the one at the computer in the back by where you sat. Yes, that one.) she paused in her hundred-miles-an-hour talking and said, "Miss Beth? I'm so glad you're our teacher. You get us. Nothing against the teacher who taught this class before, but he would give us tests like this thick. (She measured off an inch-and-a-half with her thumb and forefinger.) And we had to take one every week. And he would just stand up in front of the board and go blah-blah-blah and we were somehow supposed to remember every single thing! Class is so much better now that we actually work on stuff."

But my 2's? One of them in particular worried me. He sat in the back of the classroom, disliked group work and activities, and frequently sighed heavily when I gave directions, "I don't get what I'm supposed to do" he would say. I felt badly for him and spent sleepless hours at night pondering what I could do to help him and the other analytical thinkers get something out of class..

But apparently it wasn't so bad as I thought. (Seems like most of the time it isn't..) Yesterday, the dear boy went and told Mr. Sarr that he was disappointed that I won't be teaching Bible anymore. "Miss Beth makes it so clear and easy to understand. She explains things so well. Ms. Wanda is really good too, but Miss Beth is a better teacher!" (LOL!! yeah right kid!)

Obviously a heavy dose of fickle teenage feelings going on there, but regardless, it lets me know that he wasn't entirely frustrated and that he did learn something in class, and for that I am thankful.

I'm more convinced than ever that different methods of education can work effectively in our schools. Some people look at my classroom and see chaos-- and, well, I can see how they would think that! My computer class is generally a controlled bedlam of noise. If you had looked into my Bible class the other day you would have seen students milling around the classroom in a game of Mingle-Mosey. How on earth can anyone think clearly enough to learn in that environment?

I don't know. But I do know that their retention level for the test was fantastic. I sat down with Firecracker (definitely the student who paid the least attention out of the entire class!) to study for the Bible test last week, and to my amazement all I had to do was ask the right questions and he pulled everything out of his brain. He remembered it all and he was barely paying attention in class!

Yesterday, the freshman class delivered a heart-gripping presentation for church on the Sanctuary. I wrote none of it. They created their own model furniture and each one presented a portion of the message. I got to sit in the back and just smile with a full heart as I heard them express the meaningful connections they had made over these past few weeks that we've been learning together. They got it. And they're not likely to forget it any time soon either.

I'm convinced. I'm sticking with my dreams to be the teacher who teaches different. I will never be a lecturer. I'm not going to try to cater to my 2's except that I will always strive to improve my own analytical skills. I will be confident in the methods that are comfortable for me, because I know now that those methods work.