Rewind to last Friday:
The twenty-five uncomfortable,
metal desk-chairs are arranged in their usual “runway” formation and filled with
the bodies of Period 2’s lanky, lively teenagers. Atop the students’ desks rest notebooks,
books, pens, pencils, and elbows just waiting to be put to use. Most of the eyes face forward to the projector,
which displays the students’ soon-to-be-published paragraphs. The eyes also follow Mr. Ryan, dressed in a
grey zip-up sweatshirt with the letters “NPHS” in blue and gold across the
front – acceptable, spirited Friday attire.
He just finished introducing the day’s activities and is busy hustling
from his desk to the marker bin and back to the desk again to gather the
supplies the students will need. As the
students settle into their work, I hear Tyler, the class’s military video game
expert, challenge Mr. Ryan to an arm wrestling match.
An arm wrestling match? I wonder to myself. What
will Mr. Ryan do?
Fast-forward to this Thursday:
The same 25 uncomfortable metal
desk-chairs are arranged in their usual “runway” formation, but are filled with
the bodies of one of Mr. Ryan’s 10th grade English classes. Similar notebooks, pens, pencils, and elbows
rest atop the desks, just waiting to be used.
The eyes face forward to the chalkboard where Mr. Ryan is drawing a
narrative graph of memorable moments from his life, modeling the activity that
the students will soon be completing. He
thinks aloud, plotting points for when he got his goldfish (about a 3 on the “good”
scale), lost his favorite lunchbox (about a 4 on the “ugh” scale), and made the
varsity hockey team in high school (about a 7 on the “good” scale). From the front corner of the room, I hear a
little voice ask, “Mr. Ryan, did you go to this school?”
“Did you go to this school?” it seems to be an innocent-enough question. But will it lead to distraction, lead to a
tangent? Is that okay to share? I
think to myself. What will Mr. Ryan do?
And here we are now:
Although this might not be the
most plaguing issue of teaching, I couldn’t help but notice and connect these
two situations. I think they represent a
bigger idea that, despite the hours of planning and careful preparation, kids
are people with genuine curiosities and desires for interaction. As a teacher, how do I decide in the moment which
requests to respond to, which to ignore?
I want to build a community where the fun and sharing is productive, not
distracting. Most of us have been in
those classes where a question about the teacher’s favorite author will lead to
20 aimless minutes of rumination. But we
have also been in those classes where one apparently off-topic inquiry reveals
a gap in basic understanding of the topic at hand, leaving everyone feeling
much more confident and satisfied. I’m sure some might answer my uncertainty with that dusty phrase, “Don’t smile until December,” but for me, it just doesn’t seem that simple.
Dear Brittany, I love this question you are pondering here. It is real. Just the other day in my first-year writing class, I was talking about the research project I did for my dissertation, and one of my students asked me, "What was it like to be at UMass Amherst?" I responded, "Oh, you were that kid in high school who distracted your teachers by asking them interesting questions they couldn't resist which ultimately took the class on a half-hour tangent, weren't you?" We all had a good laugh. And, then I proceeded to tell them about UMass, for about 10 minutes (come on, it wasn't 30 minutes!). I jokingly call myself Dr. Tangent because (1) I'm a sucker for an engaging question and (2) I love to tell illustrative stories. My students know this about me (I think), and I suppose that I trust to a certain extent that they will not exploit me for their humiliating purposes. So, trust. That's the secret ingredient. If Mr. Ryan trusts that student and his relationship with that student, then, yeah, let's have an arm wrestling contest for 3 minutes to all have a laugh. Then, let's get back to work. If I don't trust, I'm going to say "No" and shut down the possibility of teacher spontaneity in the classroom. Do you want to be the teacher who surprises her students by saying, "Yeah, let's all talk in British accents for the rest of the day!" I love the question and I love that you're thinking seriously about this important--yet elusive--detail in teaching and learning. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteWhat a great question, Brittany! Since this was a narrative assignment, it doesn't seem out of line. Arm wrestling probably is, though :). One of the key issues here is boundaries. We all have different boundaries about what we are comfortable sharing, and your students will be very curious about you next semester, as you are young and they will be able to relate to you. So how do you move that to inspiration/support and not distraction/off-taskness? It's a delicate balance.
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ReplyDeleteI love this post Brittany because I believe that this is something teacher's deal with on a daily basis. The curiousities and attempts at distractions is somewhat of a natural inclination for students. Although my views of this matter are to find a happy medium or a balance between content and time to make personal interactions, I know that it is sometimes easier said than done. How exactly does one create a happy medium? What are the drawwbacks of being a robotic teacher? What are the drawbacks of sharing an ample amount of information about oneself? Which drawbacks out wiegh the others? I think that there is a time and place for everything(within reason that is), even some fun in the classroom! However, I personally believe that you must base your decisions off of the class itself. Could this class handle a five minute tangent or are they already behind enough? Is this an uptight class that may need a few laughs in their day? As we gain more experience and realize the pros and cons of each then I'm sure we will all develop teacher idenitites that do indeed create a comfortable, fun, yet productive environment in our classrooms.
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