Tweeting in Blogger- Oh my!

This is going to be a tweet-sized blog!

Three blogs ago I talked about focusing my blog on strategies/philosophies that work in a K-12 setting and in the graduate school settings. Then I made a mistake- I created a list. Now I feel obligated to follow that list; I feel like each blog I create that's not on my list is a broken agreement with you all. So I'm writing to free myself of these fetters I've created! I may get to the list, I may not! As your friend, I will conclude by saying that I don't recommend making lists when it comes to creative endeavors. Make your lists at work or make a grocery list. But lay off when it comes to your art. Give yourself that much freedom!

Collective Wisdom

While teaching in New Mexico, my young students taught me about collective wisdom. My students had exceptionalities and were therefore considered by many to be lacking in intelligence and a general “brightness.” But as my time with these children unfolded I could see them shining as brightly as anyone else who wants to be loved and is eager to learn. Why was I able to see their light? High expectations? Attitude? Was it because they were in an environment where they could peel back their protective layers and allow themselves to grow? 

I remember the last words my Pap said to me before he died. He said,

“Angela, don’t you ever hide your light under a bushel.”

Well I was a performer back then (the summer of 1999, I believe) and had been for the previous six years. I just assumed he was telling me to keep on singing. But as years pass by I realize that he wasn’t talking about singing at all. He was talking about life. He was telling me that I had a brightness that deserved to shine. So maybe, more likely, I was primed by my Pap to look for this brightness in other people. I certainly like to think that my grandfather helped me to develop that gift.

Needless to say, I could easily see all of the greatness that was in my resource room. And I’d talk about my students’ gifts and talents in the teacher lounge: “Does anyone realize that Vickie* has a fever for justice?” and “I think Emison* is one of the wisest people I’ve ever met” and “Andy* has the most pure heart I’ve ever witnessed.” I was also displaying their amazing work in the halls and boasting about their rising reading levels. I was trying to help other adults see the brightness of these kids. Or I was inviting them to at least be open to the notion that kids with IEPs can shine too. It worked on some teachers, but not on others.(*I've changed names- you know who you are!)

As a teacher educator, I get to see the brightness in my student teachers as well. Of course it’s a pleasure to get to know their personalities; but they are enduring one of the most stressful years of their lives and I am aware that I’m not exactly seeing their usual selves. I’m often helping them with crises, using core reflection to help them see their strengths, guiding them through projects…

But there is a magical thing that occurs with my adult students. They are learning how to be teachers. I’m a teacher. I am teaching them about teaching. They are teaching almost everyday. We’re all studying about teaching. 

We have a teaching culture. 

And something amazing is born out of this culture. At some point, most of the student teachers begin thinking like teachers. And if the professor has sprinkled enough fairy dust into the classroom culture, they begin to realize that ultimately we are all colleagues.  And here comes the magic…I watch them become teachers right before my little eyes.

So acting as my teacher colleagues, my students begin to tell me how I can improve my teaching practice just like I’ve been advising them all term. To me, this is the cherry on top! I crave constructive feedback and guidance from other teachers just like I crave French fries or adventure or the smell of my dog's fur.

In a final project reflection paper this term, a student suggested a smart way for me to improve the project. His suggestion was driven by his desire for the project to be more authentic. I think that he has truly learned that the best learning comes from authentic experiences and that’s why he took the time to discuss it with me. But what exactly made him comfortable doing it? Is he showing that he cares about the learners who will come after him? Does he see me as colleague? Does he trust that I'm not going to take it personally, but take it as an opportunity to be better teacher? 

To wrap this up, I love that my students offer great suggestions and ideas every term. I have implemented these ideas with great success, and I always attribute the change from whence it came. There’s something special about saying, “This assignment was create by last year’s cohort specifically for you; it’s a gift from those who came before you so that you’ll be a better teacher.” Most students are receptive and even eager for the opportunity. That's inspiring.

I want to end with a question- a shout out to anyone out there who may be reading. Tell me, what have you learned from a student? How did it change you or your practice? What were the circumstances that made this exchange possible? Was there a magical ingredient? If you think there was- what was it?!