your shoelaces are untied.
they likely are, actually. you’re sitting at a computer, reading for pleasure. so you are most likely at home and your shoes have been discarded at the front door, consequently untied. and they say i’m not a rational person. ha.
as a teacher, i constantly have discussions about planning — in particular, lesson planning — with other teachers. it’s a dangerous topic, since many teachers live by the lesson book; many teachers live by the purloined lesson book, too, which i find to be a bothersome concept. i digress, however, and shall return to that in a moment.
nothing bothers me more in the classroom than rigidity, dogmatism, continuing a strategy that doesn’t work. public education is a strategy that doesn’t work, continued by other means. if von clausewitz were a high school student, that’s likely what the quote would have been. as a teacher, you are trusted with the task of, to state the obvious, teaching the students. that means that, at the end of the day, by whatever means necessary, the majority of the class should have more knowledge and more ability than at the beginning of the day — preferably in the subject area that you teach. (we will tackle the inappropriateness of subject division on a later day).
what people often forget, especially teachers, is that students are not computers, robots, or even, to be completely honest about it, rational, developed human beings. that’s not to say that they’re not people and should be treated badly. far from it. it simply means that you cannot predict anything beyond doubt. in particular, it means that you cannot plan with any degree of certainty. teaching is a long-term exercise in educated trial and error. and more often error than not. and, as a teacher, that is absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. in fact, it’s something to strive for, to be proud of, and to be happy for, when it arrives. lewis carroll wrote once of thinking six impossible things — by breakfast. while i think this is an excellent model for teaching, i shall raise you one and say that you should have thought of six lessons destined to fail by lunchtime.
i know that sounds crazy. but i assure you that it is anything but that and everything in the interest of the students. if you do it right.
first, let’s talk about how to do it wrong. in vancouver, our days hold four classes. the traditional method of planning is as follows. before you arrive at the school (preferably several days before), you take your overviews, what we call unit plans, which are vague guidelines for how the whole subject is supposed to follow, and you come up with four (sometimes three, depending on breaks) eighty-minute classes. down to the minute. 0900. take attendance. 0903. stop taking attendance. 0904. inspect students’ eyes for illicit substance use. 0905. open textbook and issue reminder to listen quietly to chaucer. 0906. fall asleep while reading chaucer. you get the idea. while this is inherently boring and an extremely lengthy task, when done to the level that is required by the theoretical teaching instructions, this is not where the problem arises. other than facilitating the problem, that is. the problem is, the next day, when these lessons fall apart. which they do. if you don’t believe me, please try to remember your high school career. or your university one, for that matter. how many classes did you have every day? four? five? six? and how many of those classes did you walk out of thinking to yourself how much you learned, how much fun you had learning it, or how useful that will be. even in retrospect, how much of that time was well-spent? i would wager that it is a vast minority. how close am i to the truth? that is what happens when well-meaning teachers take the theory of teaching, write a plan, and then follow the plan, regardless of what happens.
i’m going to assume that you are with me. if not, that’s ok. but you can go back to the beginning and read again or move on to another post, since i’m simply going to presume that you’ve got it and agree.
what to do about it? nothing. yes, that’s right. i’m not saying don’t plan anything. that would be silly. unless you really can stand up in front of a few dozen students and engage them for five hours without preparation. which some of us can. but most teachers can’t and i don’t want to take away their crutches, only their symbolic couches. today, we’ll talk about chaucer. these are the three points that i want to deal with, in broad strokes. if it doesn’t work, we can move on to something else. good. planning complete. if you are spontaneous, you will have fun. the students will sense that and both have more fun themselves and learn more. you will be a success.
if you can’t do this, then you either need to work hard at it or find another profession. quickly.
you spend your life being a public figure to hundreds of young people. you are outgoing, generous, and knowledgeable. or you wouldn’t be here. please have some faith in your ability to work without a net. if you fall, you fall. if you’re going out on a limb for your students, they will catch you and you will climb higher next time.
may the force be with you.
Trackbacks