Guest Teacher Blogger – Winner of the 2012 Sopris Learning Blog Contest!
By Michelle George
It’s summertime and, like many teachers, I came home from school, packed up my computer, and headed to school. The first four weeks of summer vacation was spent in class at a nearby university. I learned about spondees and troches in poetry and discovered that William Shakespeare had a bit of a dirty mind. However, the most important lesson was a vivid reminder of what learning looks and feels like from the other side of the desk.
It can be scary out there
The first chapter in that all-important lesson was that learning can be scary. I haven’t taken classes on a college campus in years, and it was humbling. There were a lot of basic things I didn’t know, such as where my classes were, the rules for using the library or printing a paper, or even how to check my university e-mail account. I was completely ignorant and didn’t like it.
The disorientation made me realize how much teachers assume, at the university level all the way through K–12. When our students arrive each fall, we often expect them to know what to bring, how to behave, how to succeed. Wrong! Each school and classroom has its own systems.
I’m not painfully shy, but still I was hesitant to ask complete strangers questions ranging from how to register for a class to where to find my classroom. Imagine how paralyzed some students feel when they’re trying to navigate a locker with a lock! Another fear was opening my mouth and giving a wrong answer. I felt it important to be reminded of how terrifying that feels so that I can be more empathetic to my students. School is inherently scary for some kids; it’s our job to help them feel safe.
Realizations
The very first day in class, I made another realization: When a teacher says there are no wrong answers, they are usually fibbing. I don’t mean to say they are intentionally trying to mislead, but I found that while my professor wanted us to think critically and freely, she still had an idea in her head of the right answer. After the third time she said, “Well that’s interesting, but what about this…,” we all understood that some answers were more right than others.
With that insight, I’ll be more aware of how to ask questions and respond to answers. If only one or two options are correct, the question won’t be posed so openly. Rather, I’ll take the time to scaffold knowledge for my students so they can be right more than wrong. Success has a way of encouraging students to venture outside of their comfort zone and take risks; it’s when a writer tries a new genre or a new form that he learns something new. It’s a good thing.
By the end of the first day, another important truth was revealed: I really don’t know everything. Despite a Bachelor’s degree in English, certification to teach secondary education, and more than 80 graduate credits since certifying (and countless others without credit), I still have so much to learn.
Studying at the college level provided the opportunity to study with scholars who are immersed in a specific discipline. The Shakespeare class was taught by an expert in every known word that he wrote, as well as in volumes of information about the society in which he lived. Taking the class opened up my understanding of Shakespeare’s writing so that I can better share it with my students. While I don’t intend to become an expert in the field, I do need to have some level of expertise. It’s important to provide accurate and insightful background for my students—as I wouldn’t want to learn to ski from a novice; my students deserve a professional in the classroom as well.
Passions
Today, the summer school session is almost complete and I’ve determined the most important lesson of all: Passionate teachers are the most successful. My professors were passionate about their subjects and focused that energy into sharing information with students, which increased my motivation to learn it.
My Shakespeare professor would get so excited about early modern England that she’d talk right through the break, and offered her free time to any students who weren’t sure they were on the right track. My poetry professor spent hours preparing for our one-week class. She provided the reading list six weeks before class began, and took all of our poems home each night to read and make suggestions. Each day, she was vigilant in monitoring the “safety” level of the group, working to ensure that each writer felt like a poet and had the tools to truly become one.
Most of all, both professors clearly loved their craft. They believe learning is fun, and their passion was infectious. The students wanted to read all 900 pages of assigned reading about Shakespeare, and write quality poetry because we knew it was important to our professors. Now, that is good teaching.
Though summer vacation may be short this year, I’ll be ready to teach come August. The opportunity to be a traditional student again has taught, or perhaps reminded, me of some valuable lessons. I hope many of you will also take the time to take a risk and learn something new. After all, spending some time on the other side of the desk might make us all better teachers.
Michelle S. George is a language arts middle school teacher in Orofino, Idaho. She has a B.A. in English and secondary certification in English, reading, and journalism. Michelle has been teaching seventh and eighth grade for 20 years, and still loves going to school—as a teacher and a student. She has published a variety of lesson plans and written several award-winning grants.
