I'm determined this year to make this a more active blog. I need a place to think out loud and where I can return to reread what went well.
I'm starting a new path this school year. I will be teaching gifted. This is not a destination I had planned to head toward. I lumped gifted education in with exceptional education and never thought it was a field I would be in. The opportunity presented itself and I took it.
I recently completed a course on teacher leadership. In the course we had to examine out educational philosophy as it applies to teacher leadership but I learned a lot about myself during the assignment. I took an inventory and scored very high in the
progressivist and
constructivist categories. I am in conflict with this a bit. In my gut I know that I need to design lessons and learning experiences for my students that are problem and project based. I act more as a facilitator of their learning rather than the source of their learning. This prospect exhilerates me and frightens me all at once. Because despite what I feel is right, I still tend to teach how I was taught and how I learned how to learn.
I did very well in school. I am a strong verbal/linguistic, auditory learner. Getting my education through lecture, anchor charts,and reading was not difficult for me. I very rarely looked that different from my teachers who were mostly white females. It's interesting though, that as I look back, my favorite learning experiences were NOT with those teachers most like myself.
Mrs. Perry in fourth grade was black, short, and very professional. The mental picture I have of her is wearing a lavender skirt suit. She had short salt/pepper hair that was always perfectly styled. I remember her handwriting was beautiful. I remember her class because we wrote a lot in there and we created books. She also let me stay after school to wash the black boards and she would listen to me prattle on and on about anything. I loved her.
The following year I had Mr. C. He taught math, science, and social studies. I entered his class prepared to hate him just for the subjects he taught. I soon learned that it didn't matter if I struggled because he made learning fun. We built bird houses for measurement and division, we created budgets, used coupons, and balanced our check books. He was a great storyteller and I remember sitting on the edge of my seat as he would recite the journeys of explorers like Magellan. I still struggled but he never made me feel like I couldn't do it. I loved him.
There have been others. Mr. Renfroe taught me not to accept mediocrity and to push myself to always improve. Even when I knew I could never be THE best, he showed me I could be MY best. Dr. Eliason taught me how to organize a thesis paper and to write about topics that were interesting to read about, and to always support with evidence. He also taught me to fight for what I believed in when he made me argue for my grade. I hated him, and I loved him.
Perhaps I remember my male teachers more because I lacked a father figure and found some great ones in my teachers along the way. These teachers made me ask questions and seek answers. Isn't that what learning is?
So, as I plan my theme and lessons for this upcoming year. I find myself looking back and asking myself what I remember most, how I best learned, who pushed me and how they pushed me. My goals are always to create an excitment for learning, and to help my students realize they can do anything when they just try.
