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ksmithhanke · 4 years
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finding my calling as a teacher and creating my own teaching philosophy
Beginnings 
I grew up in a suburb of Washington, D.C. and went to a series of large public schools from K-12. My educational experience was competitive and cutthroat; I pulled more all-nighters junior year of high school than I did all throughout college. By the time I got to Swarthmore, I was burnt out and ready to reject the type of education that had gotten me there. I had always planned to major in biology, get through undergrad, and go to medical school where I would pursue a career in pediatric medicine. My burnout started to cloud my dreams of going to medical school as I imagined the years of competitive schooling I had in my future if I wanted to fulfill this dream. I chose Swarthmore in an attempt to break free of the type of academic competition that caused my burnout in the first place, so why was I about to commit myself to the same type of schooling I had come to hate? As my passion for medicine waned, I was left without the identity I had built for myself through my dedication to this idealized life plan. I was totally lost on where to go from there, I didn't even know how to go about rebuilding a new future. 
In this moment, I found myself seeking the advice of Rachel Merz, a biology professor who I had previously confided in about my 10 year plan. She asked me to reflect on my favorite classes: the kinds of classes where you can't wait to do the readings, the ones where you find yourself raising your hand at every opportunity. I couldn't help but think about Intro to Education, which I had taken in the fall of freshman year. She asked me why I was so excited by that class, and I responded by talking about the experiences I had in my field placement and the connections I made with kids. It was at this point that I realized the common thread between my previous life goals and my favorite class: a commitment to children. The driving force behind wanting to go into pediatric medicine was the same force that would push me towards education. I realized I could still accomplish my goal of advocating for children and trying to address injustices in their care, but rather than doing it in the operating room I would do it in the classroom. With revitalized passionate for education, I was ready to jump in to accomplishing my new 10 year plan - becoming a teacher. 
The Theory that Inspired Instruction  
I was cautiously optimistic about my dream to teach at the beginning, but this cautious optimism was replaced by true excitement after taking Educational Psychology. Yamuchi, Wyatt & Carroll's piece about contextualized learning inspired me to think about the cultural context of my students and forced me to consider basing my teaching in real-world problems. Faber & Mazlish's book, entitled How To Talk so Kids Can Learn, begged me to consider the positive and negative connotations of the way we phrase things when talking to children. Engle and Conant introduced me to the idea of giving students "elements of ownership and choice" over their curricula, which gives them authority and a sense of agency within their learning environments. Reading these authors ignited my passion for creating a student directed learning environment where "children are probing into the working of the world and teachers are providing, demonstrating, learning, observing and responding," (Lindfors 1991). 
It was at this moment that I knew the type of environment I wanted to teach in. Kids are naturally curious and love to be asked what they want to learn about, we just have to listen better. By asking students what they are interested in, not only are we giving them authority and increasing engagement by using natural curiosities to our advantage, but we are also listening to their thoughts and validating their questions. Through listening to their curiosities and showing them that we take their questions seriously, we are communicating that we respect them and value what they have to say. Creating a classroom environment where we respect and validate our students helps to build meaningful relationships and gives them a space where they feel heard. By ensuring we create a feeling of comfort and a sense of belonging in the classroom, we are supporting our students to engage more deeply with material and setting them up to succeed. 
Reading about the Watershed classroom from Mark Springer and Ed Silcox's book to then experiencing it in person through my field placement gave me the privilege of seeing the power of this sort of learning environment firsthand. Researching the positive impacts of project based, integrated education on mental health solidified my commitment to this style of education even more. Hearing the teachers say things like "in here there are so many ways to be valuable… they have value in ways that aren't just their grades and test scores and that helps lessen the anxiety and stress and promotes community,” and “students aren’t a number, they're not data," about their classroom was crucial in my development as a teacher. Coming from my educational background, where students were literally just numbers in a ranked list, hearing this point of view from a teacher was a breath of fresh air. I knew this was the place I wanted to be, so I pursued a placement here for student teaching.
The Reality of Watershed and the Power of Relationships
When the bell rang on that first Monday morning and the kids came into the room, I felt an overwhelming sense of anxiety. Do I even know how to teach? Will they like me? What am I doing? These questions were ones I continued to ask myself (and my cooperating teachers) over the course of student teaching. During that first week, however, my fears of being a bad teacher were pushed to the side by a focus on relationship building. We spent hours playing team building games, learning about each other, establishing a connection that would set the stage for the rest of the semester. Leading activities like this was in my wheelhouse, but as we got to the end of the first week and started really diving into content, my worries about classroom management and being a responsive classroom leader came back. I spent days planning my first lesson, getting feedback from my cooperating teachers, thinking of every possible problem and what I would do in response. But as I stood in front of the kids for the first time, with 40 pairs of eyes on me waiting for me to say something, I realized that the many hours we spent on building relationships made the task of teaching a lesson easy. I wasn't talking to just any kids, I was talking to my kids. I knew what they liked, I knew their senses of humor, I knew what could get them engaged. 
Building relationships didn't just help me understand them, but it helped them understand me as well. Because of our rapport, they trusted me to be honest with them and support them through tough projects and even tougher group dynamics. They felt comfortable communicating to me when something was confusing, when they needed more support, or even when they just needed a break from their group members. They were also able to give me feedback on my work just as I was giving them feedback on theirs. Having such a strong relationship with them put me in a position where I could learn from them about what it means to be a good teacher, and what I can do to support them as best I could. The lessons I learned from them about teaching were just as valuable as the theory I learned to get me there. 
In addition to teaching the content, my cooperating teachers and I put a big emphasis on social/emotional learning. There were days when kids would seek me out because they were stressed about finishing a project on time, upset about uneven distribution of work in their group, or even just having a bad day. These kids gave me the privilege to work with them from their most vulnerable to their most brave. Watershed taught me the value of not emphasizing academic achievement as the only/most important kind of achievement. As teachers, we should be helping our students develop skills outside of traditional linguistic and logical intelligences. By emphasizing academic achievement as the most important type of achievement, we harm both students who achieve in ways outside of the traditional (through constant negative feedback on academic pursuits and lack of outlets for intelligences in which they excel) and students who achieve traditionally (by neglecting their social-emotional growth and cultivation of other intelligences). I have learned both from my cooperating teachers and from the model of integrated learning about the virtues of educating the whole child. By giving the arts a place in the classroom, we can "suggest new explanations of ways to achieve full individual and societal competence," (Heath and Roach 1999). "Schools worldwide must give children intellectual and practical tools they can bring to their classrooms, families, and communities," and if we only focus on academic achievement in school we are missing out on a whole "set of skills needed to successfully manage life tasks such as learning, forming relationships, communicating effectively, being sensitive to others’ needs, and getting along with others," (Elias 2006, pg. 5).
Considering the Future
Seeing the theory I spent years reading and writing about at work in student teaching leaves me with a commitment to the idea of teachers as learners, and students as teachers. This experience has taught me about the wealth of information that comes from relationships with students. The value of things learned through the cultivation of trust with students is remarkable. I end this experience with an understanding of the importance of validating student experiences and supporting them to take ownership over their educational trajectories. I am thankful for the essential role my students have played in my teacher education, and I will continue to be thankful for the opportunities I will have to learn and grow with each group of students that pass through my classroom. My identity as a teacher has been defined by my students, and I am thrilled to redefine this identity every year for as long as I have the privilege to teach.
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