Archive for the ‘Professionalism’ Category
Whenever I meet educators at EdcampNYC or engage in Twitter chats (#scichat, #edchat, #edtech, and #kinderchat are my favorites), I shake my first at the sky and say “Man, I wish there was a way to engage in a structured and collaborative Professional Learning Community with these people!”. I have similar needs during in-house professional development, Professional Learning Communities, and grade level meetings. By the time we’re really digging into a topic, it’s time to leave. There isn’t a central place we keep notes, action calendars, or resources. Engagement needs a place to live. This week, I’ve been experimenting with Coursekit – an engagement manager that’s useful for a variety of digital and in-house professional learning communities.
Coursekit has features we’ve seen before – gradebooks, a place to submit work, and calendars. The innovation is the focus on peer to peer interaction. The case studies on Coursekit’s website feature professors teaching hands-on classes in a university setting. As a primary educator, I am drawn to Coursekit because I can use it to support my Professional Learning Communities whether participants are at my school or the other side of the world. I’ve created a mock Professional Learning Community coursekit called “Professional Learning Community: Integrating Social-Emotional Content into K-2 Lessons“. I’ve left the coursekit open so anyone can join. Have at it! Pretend you’re a part of this learning community – post questions, links, and media.
Coursekit is free. Create your own and comment with the link. Do use Coursekit? Are you as excited about it as I am?
“How would factors such as your background, work and life experiences, special interests, culture, socioeconomic status, race, or ethnicity contribute to the diversity of the entering class, and hence to the experience of your classmates? Please describe these factors and their relevance (700 characters maximum)”. This was the topic of the second essay for my teacher ed program application. The first essay I wrote explained all of my teaching, academic, travel, extra-curricular, and work experiences in detail. In this essay, I had to take a page to describe why my socioeconomic status (SES), blackness, and cultural elements should matter to the university.
I completed this part of the application last – I didn’t want to sound like a race radical/separatist or an “Uncle Tom”. How could I explain how my views on my SES and blackness – views that have developed over the 22 years of my existence – in the space of a page? Why does diversity matter in teacher ed programs (or education institutions in general)? Should I talk about race at all? Has my blackness become a commodity (see commodity fetishism)?
The issue of race commodification in education has bothered me for some time. Elite institutions that lack diversity provide me with financial incentives to endure the environment and create learning experiences for students. On one hand, this is necessary. In most of my classes (from politics and economics to literature and science), I was the only African-American student. These classes discussed many issues pertaining to race, gender, and SES. My input provided students with a POV they had never heard before. On the other hand, am I a human zoo? Do the responsibilities/burdens of being the lone black voice in the room undermine my sense of self?
Here is what I wrote:
As a learning lab for the next generation of teachers, ____ must create an environment where aspiring teachers are aware of issues regarding race and socioeconomic standing. The ultimate goal of teachers will be to create learning environments that are tolerant of many cultures and identities. The ___ classroom must be populated with students who are not afraid to discuss their own identities and explore different cultures. I believe that I would be a discussion leader in the classroom. I know how to create a learning environment where people are not afraid to explore these challenging issues. As an African-American educated in environments that lack diversity, I have learned how to make my diversity a positive learning experience for my peers and myself.
The path of my intellectual development is intertwined with the development of my racial identity. When I was a student in elementary school, I did not consider myself to be a black child. I grew up in a predominately white middle-class suburb. Although African-American students comprised 20% of my elementary and middle schools, I was cloistered from those students. I sat in the front of the classroom and took accelerated classes. I noticed that most African-American students populated special education courses or sat in the back of the classroom. As I grew older, my racial consciousness increased. During middle school, I noticed that my race had a tangible impact on my relationships with teachers and other students. My black peers accused me of “acting white”. They were hostile toward me. My white peers never explicitly ridiculed my “blackness” but their confusion about my identity was implied by their actions. They questioned my academic interests and joked my bad 7th grade basketball tryout. The influence that my race had on my peer relationships was not as troubling as the effect it had on my relationships with teachers. Before teachers knew my name or my level of academic achievement, I was grouped with low-performing students in the back of the classroom and given information about remedial classes. When my teachers realized that I excelled in academics, they paraded my achievements in front of other students of color, as if to say “Candace is black, well-mannered, and talented…Why can’t you measure up?”.
In the 9th grade, I decided to find a social and academic environment that was more sensitive to diversity. I transferred into an all-girls international boarding school. In many ways, the environment was less diverse than public school. Even though most of the student body came from foreign countries and spoke multiple languages, I found that I was still the only black person in the classroom, and one of few people struggling to pay tuition. This environment did not create feelings of isolation because students treated socioeconomic and cultural differences as learning experiences rather than barriers. In the classroom, when we discussed literature, politics, history, or economics, my peers made it clear that they wanted to understand my point of view on issues of race. Their questions led me to explore areas of my identity that I had not explored before. I read academic research about race, politics, and economics; tried to analyze history from a new perspective that questioned popular ideas about race; and worked to create an environment where my peers and I could challenge each other’s ideas about race and class without becoming defensive or resorting to personal attacks.
When I started college, I found that most of my peers had never conversed with a person of color, did not think that race was an issue worthy of discussion or study, or were defensive about the topic. Instead of remaining passive about issues of race and dismissing its importance in my life, I decided to become a discussion leader. When people ask me questions about my racial identity, I take the time to answer their questions and ask them questions about their experiences. I continue to research the topic. If I feel like my peers are being insensitive or using hate speech, I am not afraid to ask questions about their comments, and explain my stance. I believe that my ability to integrate this kind of discussion into classroom activities will create a positive experience for my peers.
What are your thoughts on these issues? Why does diversity matter in teacher ed programs?
Lindsea over at Students 2.0 makes a great point about the diy/edupunk internet movements:
The only thing that I see missing in these discussions of “edupunk” are students. Sure, in theory students are supposed to be given more power, but where are the student voices in the actual discussions of edupunk? This Jim Groom, smart and interesting man though he is, is an adult, a teacher, and (I’m sorry) not actually punk or DIY. Coining this new term and making it seem cool because it uses the word “punk” doesn’t change the fact that a teacher made it up, teachers are discussing it right now, and a teacher will be implementing the theory.
I realize that the application of the term isn’t exactly focused on the real punk community, it’s obviously about education. But I’d like to make it clear that the punk and DIY cultures are the domains of the younger generation now. The students will be the leaders in whatever underground change there may be.
I agree with her. Adding technology or any other edupunk reforms is a disaster when student feedback doesn’t drive the process. The February 2008 Washington Post article A School That’s Too High on Gizmos provides examples of this:
For a while, I thought it was just older teachers like me — immigrants to the Internet world — who were chafing at the so-called technology initiative, but it turns out that even the youngest teachers are fed up. “They would rather have a cyborg teaching than me,” one young English teacher complained to me. “It’s technology for the sake of technology — not what works or helps kids learn, but what makes administrators look good, what the public will think is cutting edge.
I think that the term ‘edupunk’ fails to capture what the DIY reform movement is all about. The most important aspect of the reform is changing the nature of student-teacher relationships. Instead of a top-down classroom hierarchy where the educator creates the rules of the classroom and controls content, the classroom needs to be an interactive community where interactions between students and educators drives curriculum. A great example of this is the behavior management techniques discussed on Elona Hartjes’ blog:
Establishing a positive classroom climate is essential for a safe, positive learning environment, and establishing classroom agreements are one of the ways to do that.
I used to call the classroom agreements rules, but rules seem so top down, and I don’t want that. Some kids see red when they see the word “rule”. I want them to see green instead. I want students to buy into the classroom code of conduct, not rebel against it.
At the beginning of the semester we establish our behaviour agreements. Basically it boils down to attentive listening, appreciation, mutual respect and right to pass.
In my graduate level special education courses, the instructor (a master teacher and researcher) said that the best indicator of student success and fulfillment is how much the voices of the students matter. She said that “pretty” classrooms with store-bought posters and teacher-made cut outs may not be as successful as classrooms where student work clutters the walls and spills out into the hallways. Many of the Optimal Learning Environments (OLE) techniques for at-risk learners involve student publishing, student chosen curriculum and literature, and student lead presentations and discussions. I am passionate about student empowerment. Often, to be a child is to be trapped in a world that you have no control over. Teaching students that their voices/writing/art/debate matters should be the first step in education (instead of teach first, contextualize later).
The term edupunk is also misleading because I don’t want ‘underground’ reform. Information networks and tools must be accessible to educators struggling to meet the changing needs of diverse learners.