A Synthesizing EssayLast November, I found myself staring blankly at a blinking cursor on my computer screen wondering how in the world I was going to get through the holiday months while teaching Rhetoric in my junior level American Lit class.The crisp, white, unit guide that I had been handed at the start of the year was basically the syllabus that I then handed to kids outlining unit titles and associated readings. This unit read “Founding Fathers” with readings from Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Paine, and Patrick Henry. That’s it. And where there might have been something more concrete at some point, it was certainly not available to me on the eve of the holiday season. Rhetoric includes the basic appeals that we include in our writing in order to persuade a reader to our point of view. Rhetoric is easily identified in advertisements, commercials, speeches, and even narratives that try to sway their readers with poignant descriptions aimed at garnering sympathy. It is subversive and tricky because we are subject to it so often. I was more than a little stumped in trying to make a certain-to-be-dry unit interesting after we had already beat a dead horse with Arthur Miller’s, The Crucible, a 1950’s drama set in Puritan times, with allusions to the Red Scare. My kids were pro eye-rollers by this point. I re-read the Declaration of Independence, and heard again the indignation and desperation that Thomas Jefferson knit carefully in his letter to King George. I read Patrick Henry’s Speech to the Virginia Convention and rediscovered the rage and scorn that he hoped to bring out of his listeners as he called them to arms against the British. I read Benjamin Franklin’s On the Constitution, where he humorously and humbly offered the recently drafted Constitution as an imperfect best-we’ve-got solution to the failed Articles of Confederation. How could I get my kids to hear these elements in the dry and archaic words of men, the “dead, old, white guys” according to my kids, who existed nearly two hundred and fifty years ago? How could I bring it alive so they can hear the depth of these men’s hearts- so different from their own? And how could I survive the holidays with a unit that was not too homework heavy for my students and myself… How often do teachers find themselves looking for solutions to problems like these? How often do we hear the rhetoric that teachers must make the curriculum “relevant”? It is true, of course, that we must reach our students wherever they are. However, I do not think there is a one hit punch that will solve this quandary. Actually, it was this quest that prompted me to look into an Ed Tech program like Michigan State University’s MAET (Master of Arts in Educational Technology) program. What I found was not a cure-all, but a new mindset that allows me to work within the constraints of the tools I have around me. As I entered the program, I was not so naive that I thought that technology would be a solution to all my problems as a teacher. However, I saw the world around me morphing to underscore a technology literacy that I was dangerously close to lacking. When I entered MSU as an undergraduate freshman, I had a flip phone that I treasured because it was my first real piece of technology. By the time I graduated with my teaching certificate five years later, nearly everyone I knew had a smartphone, that emblem of modernity, and I too was thinking about saving my pennies for one. Two years after that, it somehow seemed irresponsible to be without one. I could not believe how exponentially fast technology grew to be adopted around me. Suddenly everyone had an online presence, a miniature computer in their pocket, and I was fielding interview questions that demanded how exactly I embed technology in the classroom. After finally joining the district where I am currently hired, I became adept at interacting with the technology my district provided and soon became a go-to resource for my teacher peers. When they needed help using their document cameras to record lessons, they called me. When they wanted to scan and review data in Illuminate Ed., or even create a survey with Google forms, they emailed me. When they wanted help navigating SchoolCenter, our district provided website creator, they stopped by my classroom. When it came time for me to select a graduate program, MAET made sense. What I did not expect to find, but I am so glad I did, is that the program modeled how to use tools in general. In CEP 812, my first class and where I perhaps expected a list of tech apps that might revolutionize my teaching, I discovered a list of mindsets grounded in educational psychology that included the necessary language to speak about and use technology to leverage student success. I exulted in that knowledge! In CEP 811, I was taught that a tool can be repurposed to solve a problem in my classroom-- so the tool was not even important, but how I used the tool. I was taught to look at “problems” as “constraints”, and that constraints are sometimes necessary to foster creative solutions. I learned that they are not prohibitive and that sometimes we learn more through a productive struggle with these constraints than an easy success might ever have afforded us. I learned first hand how motivating that can be. In CEP 815, I learned that interacting with technology is interacting with media, which changes the landscape for thinking or acting in the world, and that it requires developing a literacy that can be refined with continued use. The best part was that “play” counted as a literacy, and one I had not considered before. Previously, I had sheepishly termed my learning as “tinkering” which seemed so diminutive and illegitimate. MAET not only validated my process, but it sort of granted permission for me to integrate this philosophy into my classroom with renewed enthusiasm. So with these elements in mind, I refocused on my problem. I created a video project and asked students to pick a famous speech, to reenact it in a video, and to publish it with purposefully chosen effects. I placed them in pairs so that they could work through and collaborate on both the speech they chose and the technology they selected. I asked them to cut their scenes according to some basic principles of design, to keep their scene cuts close to ten seconds, to be purposeful with their humor and props, and to ensure that whatever they included in their scenes did not compete too much with their words. Most importantly, I asked them to have fun with it. In the meantime, I acted out some of the pieces listed above, and we hunted down tone, audience, and methods of rhetoric in each of them. Two days before school was out for Christmas break I brought in holiday donuts and orange juice, to celebrate our hard work, and we presented our videos. After watching their videos, they explained the tech they used and the design moves they incorporated into their shots. It was a hit. We heard words from Dr. King, JFK, Malcolm X, and even Ronald Reagan. We heard from suffragettes and First Ladies, and a slew of other great people whose passion dripped into their words and came alive in my students’ mouths. We talked about the rhetoric of their videos, the what and how they crafted into their scenes, since video directors also shape the emotion and understanding of their audience as they build rhetoric into their editing. It was a little rough in some spots. I did not have time to teach kids how to video edit. I relied on their own tinkering to counter the inevitable constraints of their project. I would only point them in the direction of some free online software that could teach it to them in their own tutorials. Some of them had difficulty sharing their finished work with me in time for the big reveal. Some of them, who were more tech challenged, chose to simply reenact their speech live with homemade props or costumes, and that was ok too. However, their excitement, their personal sense of accomplishment, and their grasp of the concepts I was so afraid they would reject, was energizing for both of us. This is the kind of teacher I want to be. I want my kids to master English. I want them to enjoy English. And I want to do so without sacrificing discipline, equity, or my own workplace sustainability. I know this is only one example. Just because I successfully integrated technology into one unit does not mean I am done with the work I have to do. However, it serves as an encouragement to me-- that I can take what I learned-- what I am committed to keep learning-- and embed it into my practice. My goals are lined up in a row, and they have not changed much. I am still working toward the success of my students in this technology driven era. I am still committed to being the best resource I can for them. But the implementation of these goals look a lot different than I imagined. Where in my naivete, I saw my students in quiet, neat rows, dutifully studying their texts, I now see them talking excitedly together. I see them with their heads together, tinkering with a craft, piece of tech, and maybe a book too. I see them presenting and gesturing toward my whiteboard with that look of pride that says, “I made this,” and I do not see myself at the center of it all. I think the role of a teacher has many hats. Some days I might be presenting or constructing materials, as I model my expectations. Mostly I see myself as a curator-- of texts, of medias, of materials, and that mostly I will step out of the way and let them develop their own understanding as it relates to their experience and their needs. Lastly, I learned about the scholarship of teaching and learning, a principle that dictates that we cannot teach in a vacuum, or an echo-chamber. We have an obligation to share, and to accept the creativity of others. This means developing a PLN (a professional learning network) that is continually growing. This is begun already through the professors and peers whom I have met through my studies. They have introduced me to an even vaster network online via Twitter, Facebook, and Google. It is also begun via this site, a compilation of everything I have done and intend to do with this program. It is the publication of my endeavors inside and outside my classroom, so that others can learn from my mistakes and successes. I have an obligation to share with my students and my fellow “curators” what I am working on, so that they can help me, and be helped by me in helping kids learn. And that starts here, in the space, on this page, where I can make public my efforts. This space is to remain as a tool for my kids, my colleagues, and myself as I archive my hard work and theirs. Want a printable copy of this post?
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An essay of what's to comeAbout a week ago I received a postcard from myself. It was delivered via my professor from last year’s adventure in Ireland, where I completed nearly half of my Master’s in four weeks. I had forgotten about the card, so my interest was renewed as I read the words I had predicted I would forget. They read, “don’t forget the TPACK model of repurposing what you have around you! The biggest takeaway from this program is that everything is what you ‘make’ it. Keep Makering and continue this ‘scholarship of teaching and learning.’” They made me chuckle and also a little confused. I remember how important these ideas were to me-- are to me-- but now they are embedded in my long term memory, where they have lost their urgency. How silly, as they are the cornerstone for my goals as teacher-learner. TPACK is “simply” a framework that explains the relationship of different knowledges that are required for teaching with technology. It shows the interplay between content knowledge (knowledge of whatever subject I teach-- in my case High School English), technology knowledge (knowledge of the technology I have at my disposal, and how best to use it to maximize learning in my classroom), and also pedagogical knowledge (knowledge of how my students learn, and how to prepare to teach them). The point of the framework-- and the reason why I selected Educational Technology as my focus-- is to illustrate that teaching with technology requires more than using these knowledges in isolation. I am passionate about remembering this because I commonly see teachers excited about using technology because of its “wow factor” that makes using it as a teaching tool provocative, to the point where teaching with the tool becomes contrived or expensive. An understanding of how these knowledges interact can make the difference between using a tool effectively or just playing with cool toys. It is a goal of mine to pursue each of these knowledges as they relate to one another. This is why I emphasized “Makering” when listing my takeaway. Teaching can be painfully simple and also gratifyingly complex. It is what I make it. I can think of more than a few times where I stayed up late into the night, agonizing over a lesson, trying to make it more than it is, and then finding that sometimes the best lesson is born out of simply taking what I have and getting creative with it. “Makering” is a tech movement where a tinkerer works to create something valuable or instructive through an iteration process, who is not afraid to scrap something that does not work. Sometimes this includes using circuits to literally light up an idea, or perhaps lining up strings of code to 3D print a solution to a problem-- or something else entirely. It is the act of working through a project to create, and often it is the process that is more valuable than the product. Teaching, and teaching with technology, is very much like this-- where I must remember to iterate my lessons to suit and respond to my students needs. Teaching is often makering. I don’t need an iPad, or fancy apps, to teach effectively. I can use the various technologies I have available to me and “make it make do.” So. I have my goals clearly and simply outlined: I want to maximize student learning in an efficient and effective way. This alone requires an adaptability since students’ needs are ever changing, year after year. I have the schema, the knowledge and know-how, to use technology to my advantage, a tool that is also ever changing. I have the ability to maximize the affordances that technology can offer me and my students. But how do I keep pursuing the knowledge that will deliver the success of goals? This is where the “scholarship of teaching” becomes important. This is a phrase that I quoted from a reading of Eileen Bender, and Donald Gray, professors of Indiana University, where they explain that, “everyone implicated in the scholarship of teaching meets everyone else in a series of ever-wider circles: students learning from each other in groups or teams in and outside a classroom; teachers learning from students; teachers talking to each other about teaching; teachers reading about how students learn and how other teachers teach; teachers eventually writing about teaching, participating in other ways in the professional conversation that is one of the signs and certifications of the scholarship of teaching,”(Bender). This hearkens back to TPACK in that we cannot teach in isolation. In order to build the knowledge required to maintain adaptability, I need to pursue my goals, pursue my students, and pursue the even greater knowledge of my colleagues, professors, and published pedagogical experts. I also need to maintain my place in the circle of this scholarship, by becoming a resource for those around me. Bender, E and Gray, D. (1999). The Scholarship of Teaching. Research & Creative Activity, XXII(1). Retrieved from http://www.indiana.edu/~rcapub/v22n1/p03.html Koehler, Matthew. (2015). TPACK Explained. TPACK.org. Retrieved from http://www.matt-koehler.com/tpack/tpack-explained/ Want a printable copy of this post? A teaching philosophy“The task of a modern educator is not to cut down jungles, but to irrigate deserts.” –C.S. Lewis I imagine that irrigating deserts requires a mastery of planning and studying the terrain in order to supply water to where it is needed. There must be countless hours of observation, measuring inches and acres of earth, and hot days constructing the watery framework with a team of builders that seek to make seeds grow. It is a thought that provides so many similarities to the process that is teaching. During my development, first as student and then as educator, I have found that pedagogy is not simply a study of the cause and effect relationships that lead to the academic maturity of a child. There is an emotional investment that must be carefully and respectfully established in order for the “earth” to receive the water that satisfies the thirst of growth. I think that above all it is the connections with students that are the most powerful for success. Little can be accomplished without respect on the part of the student, or the teacher. As I have reflected on my own experience I have found this to be the essential variable in what has led to my commitment to this profession. Looking back on my experience as a student I feel compelled to recognize the adults in my life that motivated, inspired, taught, and held me accountable to my learning. They provided the opportunities for growth that I needed to succeed. With compassion, love, and respect, they instilled in me a need to learn, and the work ethic that motivates my hard work to succeed. In my adolescent years I found myself awakening to the world around me. I became alert to the fact that not only did I have the power to affect my environment but I had a responsibility that called me to examine my impact and make it positive. I regarded the adults around me and saw the influence they held in my development. I respected the hard work, and devotion they inserted into their work, a work that usually involved me. In them I selected role models, so when it came time to choose a path to pursue while studying at Michigan State University, it was to them that I looked for guidance and inspiration. On the day that I graduated from high school I was surrounded by friends, some who had not experienced the same respect for the adults in their life. Their lives had not been so well “irrigated” as mine. As I experienced the sadness that resulted, I felt a growing desire to join the ranks of those who had so inspired me. I adopted English as my major, a subject area that I felt lent itself well to providing the skills necessary to empower my students in their journeys of growth. I selected secondary education as a means to meet and support the minds similar to what my calling demanded. I transitioned in my experience as student and became a staff member in a mentorship program called Teens for Christ that I had attended my junior and senior year of high school. I developed relationships with my charges that provided me the satisfaction that I had chosen well in my profession. As I headed into my internship year at Holt Junior High I was expecting the relationships with my school community and my students to be a wonderful secondary commission, an expected byproduct that came with teaching. What I found as I invested in that community, and in my students, was precisely the opposite. Educators teach their students how to be civic members of the world around them almost more than their subject matter. It was essential to teach and model a good work ethic, responsibility, civic duty, kindness to others, and values that promote a dedication to improving the community, even if that path was difficult. I was delighted. I joined an after-school help program called the Writing Center, and was satisfied to see the relationships I developed with students directly benefit my students’ success in the classroom. I jumped in on a program called Rams on the Go, a program dedicated to walking and running while listening to works of fiction on audiobooks. My enthusiasm paid off as students saw I cared about them as people and as learners. Additionally, I developed relationships with my colleagues, who provided me a team from which to grow and work. As a teacher, I think it is vital to maintain an effort to be a continual student, to be a learner in my craft. I want to be persistently building on my practice, examining the data provided to me by my assessments, and then seeking resources to hone my reactions to this data. I want to maintain a flexibility to change for my students, and to change with them. As I encounter future generations immersed in technology I recognize that changes are swift, and in an effort to keep my teaching effective I must maintain a position with many resources. My colleagues provide a wealth of these, as does the community of parents behind every class. Throughout my internship I intentionally focused on communication between home and school, and discovered that parents are an enormously important resource in supporting a pupil academically. I believe that there must be a well-oiled system of communication between the adult role models in a child’s life to support the habits necessary for success. This communication must take multiple forms and be bolstered by the data I collect from my assessments. I structure my assessments around a design that seeks the demonstration of a mastery of objectives. My units are built backwards first, so that I know the end goal I seek for my students, and can share that with them and their parents. In this way we can partner towards that end goal, and use our daily assessments to inform on a student’s progress. In today’s world there is a constant emphasis on change and improvement, and it is connections between kids and their experience at school that will make a difference for these transitions. Using my assessments and reacting to the narrative that each test and handout has to give about a student’s improvement will supply me with the information I need to “irrigate” the already-existing seeds that I know are present in every student’s mind. I seek to provide the opportunities for my students to reach down roots, to unfurl leaves, and stretch up to the sun, to success. I want to join the network of influence that saturates this experience and watch the desert grow green with produce. Want a printable copy of this post? An essay of past goalsWhen I graduated with my bachelor degree and advanced to my teaching internship in 2011, I felt full of trepidation and naïveté. I knew I was fresh, ignorant, and inexperienced. I lined up my binders, sharpened my pencils, and hung my meager supply of “teacher clothes”. I pushed up my glasses and stepped before a group of wiggling seventh graders who probably mirrored my feelings on their first day of Junior High. It wasn’t long before my suspicions were confirmed. It was a beautiful year, albeit full of the blood, sweat, and tears that I have since come to associate with teaching. I walked out with confidence and not a little excitement for my first position as “Ms. Converse.” The spring passed and I waited eagerly for the letters, the calls, the interviews that I felt would inevitably lead me to my future classroom. I collected a handful of interviews-- none seemed promising, and no one called back. As September loomed, I realized that I would not be a teacher. Not yet, and certainly not in the middle of the Michigan Recession. The following spring, I tried again- and finally scored an interview for a Junior High English position. The interview was daunting, and I swallowed my nerves as I stared down a conference table with nearly ten interviewers. For thirty minutes I explained my experiences, my repertoire of classroom management strategies, my excitement about technology as it related to assessment. And then one question stopped me. “And what are your goals for the next five years?” I heard the answer in my mind bubble up automatically-- something about my future master’s degree and my excitement to devote myself to the community in which my students lived. But instead, I thought of the last year of failed interviews, of waiting for the new school year to turn over, of the year I spent working behind a cash register, thinking of the students who were not mine. “I just want to teach,” I said, my eyes stinging with emotion. “I just want so badly to be working with kids, it’s hard to see that far ahead. Wherever I am, my goal is to be working toward the success of students who are my own.”And they nodded with me like they knew. I got the job, and when I push up my glasses and step in front of my students every day, it is with the joy of those words that I have the privilege to plan for the next five years-- and beyond. My goals now are more sophisticated. I want to take my classroom-- now at the High School teaching American English-- and invigorate a curriculum of reading “dead, old, white guys”. I want to use technology to reach my low level, resistant readers AND my proficient readers. I want to teach with creativity, equity, and efficiency. I want to ensure that ALL my students can access the skills needed to deliver their own five-year plan. I want to inspire my students to dedicate their own blood, sweat, and tears toward their carefully crafted dreams. My goals haven’t dramatically changed, since all teachers want these things, but they now have the refinement afforded by experience, by real students, and the ability to iterate year after year in a job I love. And since the entirety of these was my goal in the beginning, I think I am well on my way. Want a printable copy of this post? |