Punishments and Rewards
Why has there been no recent blog posting? Was I kidnapped by aliens and had not-so-good things done to me a la Cartman of the inaugural episode of South Park? Have I just been lazy and slacking because my body is telling me that waking up at 6:30 every morning just plain sucks and it won't do it anymore?
Well, that's partly the story. You see, at the beginning, before the worries of graduate classes and preparing to teach every day started getting the best of me, I was like a beautiful naive Adam skipping along in the Garden of Paradise and write-about-whatever-you-want-to-write-about blogs. But now I am, in the words of the famous Pascal, nothing more than a "wretched man" plodding my weary way through the world of inevitable sin and specifically required assignments. Not that I'm whining or complaining, mind you, but there's something about an enjoyable task that's ruined by calling it homework. We've all had the experience. Some of us still like whining and complaining, too.
Well, that's the explanation of the "punishment" portion of this post's title anyway. I'm caught up in the perpetual conundrum of motivating myself to do what is called homework, when in fact this homework is something that I would have been keeping up with all the while if it wasn't called homework. And you thought I was going to talk about punishing and rewarding my students? Oh, pishaw. It's Friday night and I'm entitled to think of David Lee Jones "Master and Supreme Dictator of the Entire Universe, Even Metaphysical Aspects like Heaven" first. This is my time, fool. Anyway, I'll get around to talking about Reluctant Disciplinarian when I want to. This is still my homework and I'll do it however I please.
What, then, has been my "reward" this week? Gather 'round the fire, children, and I'll tell you. As Fate would have it, I've had the same kid, Andre, in my small group for the entire summer session, and a few others like Jon and Sammie for most of it. So, even though we've been switching groups up every week, I've gotten to know them pretty well. We've been doing black literature for awhile now and I've been explaining to my whole group the problem of Christianity in American slavery. That is, why was American slavery the only kind in history to be so brutal and racist in nature, and how did "Christian" Europeans justify beating the tar out of these Africans? The answer, in part, for those of you who didn't have the pleasure of going through Mr. "I may or not have been Dave's inspiration to study Latin and teach" Hyland's AP European class, lies in the Genesis story. Black folk are animals, you see, and since they aren't really human but lowly animals, the White folk, made in the image of God, have dominion over them and all creatures. That's the simplified version, but you get the idea. Anyway, Andre has been working on his literary analysis that's been assigned to the class, and his theme has been racism. Contrary to what I thought originally, the students have been paying attention to me in between napping through short stories. I read his rough draft, and sure enough despite that he is a struggling student he firmly held on to this idea of the black man as animal, really thought about it, and wrote an essay that would be A-worthy if the poor guy could rewrite his own history of miserable English classes and learning the difference between colloquial and formal speech. I was really impressed and flattered by this to say the least, so I thanked him for surprising me and demonstrating that he really does pay attention. His reply? "The whole class tries to pay attention to you, because you know what you're talking about no matter what it is and you're not boring like all the other teachers we've had." Of course, that was what my pseudo-intellectual and educated white ears heard. I couldn't reconstruct the actual quotation, mumbling and all, if I tried.
This struck for two reasons. One is that I'm quickly realizing that although I'm a little bit of a natural for this gig, I really need to be mindful that I have miles to go before I'll be an actual good teacher. So I have a booming voice that keeps kids awake and I have an instinct for keeping them busy by presenting my material at a fast pace. In a lot of other ways many of my peers far outshine me, and I've taught maybe all of 4 or 5 lessons so far. Still, it's nice to hear something like that this early on, considering that I've always believed and been told by everyone who's cared for me that teaching really is my calling. Here's where I get nitpicky, specifically in an ongoing dialogue with the Notorious "Don't Call Me Biggie" Ben Guest. Once upon a time he told me that content knowledge is one of the three most important qualities a teacher a must have, but it was the least of the three. But my experience, especially after this incident, is that my content knowledge is the only thing that really inspired these kids to respect me to begin with. They're impressed at my knowledge of history and literature and said to themselves, "Hey, this guy has an impressive knowledge of history and literature. We should pay attention and give him our respect." Or something like that. Point is, for as intimidating as I am when presenting a lesson, the kids have also found out very quickly that I'm way too laid and am still stuck in "I want to be your friend" mode despite my attempts to just not freakin' do that. There's no way they would take me seriously if I didn't ramble on and on and on at them about many details they'll never hear about again, much less learn. But they know they should soak up what the can on account of my own ability to inspire awe through my vast knowledge.
Okay, so I can be a pretty big snot when I'm touting my own horn, but hey, I'm only getting ready for when I need to give the impression that I'm an omniscient Latin teacher. I don't mean to sound like a snot or tout my horn, but the fact is that these kids see a really smart guy compared to them, are really impressed by it, and my authority this summer has hung by that thread I feel. (If I say I'm sorry for saying the phrase "touting my own horn" too much that means that I've just said the phrase "touting my own horn" for what has to be a record 4 times in an MTCoprs blog.) So, that's that, and Ben, if you want to fist fight about it, I'll have you know that I'm highly skilled in arts of WWE-style wrestling...
Well, the real point of this blog I suppose is to talk about the book Reluctant Disciplinarian, which I've already talked about a number of times in the past but need to do officially. So, let's see. As I've said before, it's a good book but overrated I feel. That is to say, I've read all 4 of our education primers for the month and I feel like any of them would have been best if read first and the one read last was doomed to failure. I see the same messages in them all, so it's just the nature of the beast. It really isn't all that funny (although the part about the hot teacher being in the dunking booth piqued my interest...) nor is it all that earth-shattering. To be honest, although we have a lot of good tools now that we've been through this first month here, I feel like instead of reading all these books and going to class, someone could have just said to me, "Be strict, don't be the students' friend, don't be the cool guy, have a detailed lesson plan, have backupplans for emergencies, and don't take any shit in the classroom and you'll be okay. Now go do it and learn on the job the way every one else does." And the funny thing is, having spoken with some of former high school teachers whom I remember fondly and am still close to, that's exactly the advice I did before I got here. Now it's just been repeated to death in increasingly disinteresting ways and in more specific detail. I know there will be a common universal thread for all of us, but I take the point seriously from Rubinstein and Wong when they say that we will not learn anything in our education classes and education books. Well, great, can I please put your book down now? I'm learning stuff, and I'm reading about funny incidents that may or not happen to me, and I'm being taught that teachers need to be prepared for day one but inevitably will not be whether in Education school or not. I obviously haven't thought this through entirely enough, but I hope y'all (yes, I do say that now, and I'm on the verge of incorporating "ain't" back into my vocabulary again after about 13 years of disuse) get my point. Reluctant Disciplinarian is a fine little short read, as are our other books, but I'm not exactly sure what the message is supposed to be, and that's leading to my confusion.
Well, I'm running out of gas now. (Who's noticed that I'm not trying to be funny anymore? It is Friday night, dammit, and I am a little antsy in my pantsy to get those beverages of ill repute in my stomach, which will make me both wise and just.) I don't feel like I was particularly clear in talking about both the book and my first "You're a Good Teacher" incident, or at least not satisfied with the way it came out now that I've spent about 2 hours writing, so please, Miss Monroe, if you feel like I didn't finish the required assignment for the Reluctant Disciplinarian blog satisfactorially, please let me know.
[Insert snazzy outro piece here.]
Well, that's partly the story. You see, at the beginning, before the worries of graduate classes and preparing to teach every day started getting the best of me, I was like a beautiful naive Adam skipping along in the Garden of Paradise and write-about-whatever-you-want-to-write-about blogs. But now I am, in the words of the famous Pascal, nothing more than a "wretched man" plodding my weary way through the world of inevitable sin and specifically required assignments. Not that I'm whining or complaining, mind you, but there's something about an enjoyable task that's ruined by calling it homework. We've all had the experience. Some of us still like whining and complaining, too.
Well, that's the explanation of the "punishment" portion of this post's title anyway. I'm caught up in the perpetual conundrum of motivating myself to do what is called homework, when in fact this homework is something that I would have been keeping up with all the while if it wasn't called homework. And you thought I was going to talk about punishing and rewarding my students? Oh, pishaw. It's Friday night and I'm entitled to think of David Lee Jones "Master and Supreme Dictator of the Entire Universe, Even Metaphysical Aspects like Heaven" first. This is my time, fool. Anyway, I'll get around to talking about Reluctant Disciplinarian when I want to. This is still my homework and I'll do it however I please.
What, then, has been my "reward" this week? Gather 'round the fire, children, and I'll tell you. As Fate would have it, I've had the same kid, Andre, in my small group for the entire summer session, and a few others like Jon and Sammie for most of it. So, even though we've been switching groups up every week, I've gotten to know them pretty well. We've been doing black literature for awhile now and I've been explaining to my whole group the problem of Christianity in American slavery. That is, why was American slavery the only kind in history to be so brutal and racist in nature, and how did "Christian" Europeans justify beating the tar out of these Africans? The answer, in part, for those of you who didn't have the pleasure of going through Mr. "I may or not have been Dave's inspiration to study Latin and teach" Hyland's AP European class, lies in the Genesis story. Black folk are animals, you see, and since they aren't really human but lowly animals, the White folk, made in the image of God, have dominion over them and all creatures. That's the simplified version, but you get the idea. Anyway, Andre has been working on his literary analysis that's been assigned to the class, and his theme has been racism. Contrary to what I thought originally, the students have been paying attention to me in between napping through short stories. I read his rough draft, and sure enough despite that he is a struggling student he firmly held on to this idea of the black man as animal, really thought about it, and wrote an essay that would be A-worthy if the poor guy could rewrite his own history of miserable English classes and learning the difference between colloquial and formal speech. I was really impressed and flattered by this to say the least, so I thanked him for surprising me and demonstrating that he really does pay attention. His reply? "The whole class tries to pay attention to you, because you know what you're talking about no matter what it is and you're not boring like all the other teachers we've had." Of course, that was what my pseudo-intellectual and educated white ears heard. I couldn't reconstruct the actual quotation, mumbling and all, if I tried.
This struck for two reasons. One is that I'm quickly realizing that although I'm a little bit of a natural for this gig, I really need to be mindful that I have miles to go before I'll be an actual good teacher. So I have a booming voice that keeps kids awake and I have an instinct for keeping them busy by presenting my material at a fast pace. In a lot of other ways many of my peers far outshine me, and I've taught maybe all of 4 or 5 lessons so far. Still, it's nice to hear something like that this early on, considering that I've always believed and been told by everyone who's cared for me that teaching really is my calling. Here's where I get nitpicky, specifically in an ongoing dialogue with the Notorious "Don't Call Me Biggie" Ben Guest. Once upon a time he told me that content knowledge is one of the three most important qualities a teacher a must have, but it was the least of the three. But my experience, especially after this incident, is that my content knowledge is the only thing that really inspired these kids to respect me to begin with. They're impressed at my knowledge of history and literature and said to themselves, "Hey, this guy has an impressive knowledge of history and literature. We should pay attention and give him our respect." Or something like that. Point is, for as intimidating as I am when presenting a lesson, the kids have also found out very quickly that I'm way too laid and am still stuck in "I want to be your friend" mode despite my attempts to just not freakin' do that. There's no way they would take me seriously if I didn't ramble on and on and on at them about many details they'll never hear about again, much less learn. But they know they should soak up what the can on account of my own ability to inspire awe through my vast knowledge.
Okay, so I can be a pretty big snot when I'm touting my own horn, but hey, I'm only getting ready for when I need to give the impression that I'm an omniscient Latin teacher. I don't mean to sound like a snot or tout my horn, but the fact is that these kids see a really smart guy compared to them, are really impressed by it, and my authority this summer has hung by that thread I feel. (If I say I'm sorry for saying the phrase "touting my own horn" too much that means that I've just said the phrase "touting my own horn" for what has to be a record 4 times in an MTCoprs blog.) So, that's that, and Ben, if you want to fist fight about it, I'll have you know that I'm highly skilled in arts of WWE-style wrestling...
Well, the real point of this blog I suppose is to talk about the book Reluctant Disciplinarian, which I've already talked about a number of times in the past but need to do officially. So, let's see. As I've said before, it's a good book but overrated I feel. That is to say, I've read all 4 of our education primers for the month and I feel like any of them would have been best if read first and the one read last was doomed to failure. I see the same messages in them all, so it's just the nature of the beast. It really isn't all that funny (although the part about the hot teacher being in the dunking booth piqued my interest...) nor is it all that earth-shattering. To be honest, although we have a lot of good tools now that we've been through this first month here, I feel like instead of reading all these books and going to class, someone could have just said to me, "Be strict, don't be the students' friend, don't be the cool guy, have a detailed lesson plan, have backupplans for emergencies, and don't take any shit in the classroom and you'll be okay. Now go do it and learn on the job the way every one else does." And the funny thing is, having spoken with some of former high school teachers whom I remember fondly and am still close to, that's exactly the advice I did before I got here. Now it's just been repeated to death in increasingly disinteresting ways and in more specific detail. I know there will be a common universal thread for all of us, but I take the point seriously from Rubinstein and Wong when they say that we will not learn anything in our education classes and education books. Well, great, can I please put your book down now? I'm learning stuff, and I'm reading about funny incidents that may or not happen to me, and I'm being taught that teachers need to be prepared for day one but inevitably will not be whether in Education school or not. I obviously haven't thought this through entirely enough, but I hope y'all (yes, I do say that now, and I'm on the verge of incorporating "ain't" back into my vocabulary again after about 13 years of disuse) get my point. Reluctant Disciplinarian is a fine little short read, as are our other books, but I'm not exactly sure what the message is supposed to be, and that's leading to my confusion.
Well, I'm running out of gas now. (Who's noticed that I'm not trying to be funny anymore? It is Friday night, dammit, and I am a little antsy in my pantsy to get those beverages of ill repute in my stomach, which will make me both wise and just.) I don't feel like I was particularly clear in talking about both the book and my first "You're a Good Teacher" incident, or at least not satisfied with the way it came out now that I've spent about 2 hours writing, so please, Miss Monroe, if you feel like I didn't finish the required assignment for the Reluctant Disciplinarian blog satisfactorially, please let me know.
[Insert snazzy outro piece here.]
posted by David Jones | 19:59
3 Comments:
Ah, an aristocrat, schooled in both the arts of Socratic dialogue and WWE-style combat. Well sir, let me posit two questions (and feel free to answer in any order):
1) Can you imagine someone who has outstanding content knowledge but is a terrible teacher?
I can. I’ve seen it many times.
2) Can you imagine someone who has both excellent organization and an engaging "teacher personality" (the other two requisites of the Ben Guest triumvirate of good teaching for those of you keeping score at home) but whose content knowledge is only average, or even below average, and because of this is a poor teacher?
I can, but I’ve never seen it.
In my opinion (and it is just an opinion, like elbows and other appendages) at the bare minimum the content knowledge required to teach is of the one-day kind. Your knowledge need only be one day ahead of the students. If you have organization and a good teacher personality, you can make up for a lack of content knowledge. If you have outstanding content knowledge, but no organization and a terrible teacher personality I don’t think it is possible to be a successful teacher at the high-school level. I await your response...
Sufficient, Dave!
Well Dr. Jones it's been one wild ride to go from where we were 8 years ago to where we are now. I can still remeber 8 young youths who could hardly wait to leave high school, but now I'm pretty sure they all wish they could go back. In case youre wondering I'm writing to you because I'm sure you will read this and hopefully realize how much the time we have spent together will be missed. Also it's one in the morning and the fresh prince of bel air is a re run.
But Dave that's all besides the point now. When I read this blog or whatever the hell it is, I realized something. I realized we are growing up. Honestly it didn't hit me the night I said goodbye to you and gave you hug and wished you a safe trip, But after reading your entries I finally see the big picture. I want to say kudos to you and congradulations on settling into something you are going to enjoy for the rest of your life. It must be nice considering I'm on year away from achieving a degree with a major in communications and a minor in film studies. I really have no clue what I'm going to do with that but what are you going to do?
Dave I wish you all the best with guiding the minds of this countries youth and for being able to reach them already. If what Andre said is the truth then I hope he never finds out about the stories that we and the other 6 may share. Just remember I will be stopping by your class room for an unexpected visit to tear the wool from your students eyes and expose you for who you really are, but then I would only be hurting myself as well.
I know I can't challenge you mentally to a battle of wits like some of your other friends, but I will always be here if you ever need someone to shoot the shit with. I'm glad to read that you are doing well, but it wont kill you to pick up your phone and call me once and awhile. I look forward to reading about more of your achievments in the class.
Your Pal,
the Sullybhan
(my tyranny shall reign)
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