[Rejecting Perfection
Alright, well that ‘s done. That is, until I have to undergo another teacher observation or experience one of those awkward moments where I really feel I ought to be able to show exactly how my teaching is best.
Honestly (can you ever be sure in this blog?) I learned how to grow without a set ideal long ago — perhaps many still need them, but I hope not for long. Of course improving is about setting goals, getting close enough to see how close you came and whether it was worth the effort… and resetting new goals. The ‘perfect teacher’ is a way to keep the confidence deficient below ground and, more often, a self-justificating mechanism for the teacher-centred teacher.
[Shifting the Core
“We need to be provoked….It is time that we had uncommon schools, that we did not leave off our education when we begin to be men and women. It is time that villages were universities, and their elder inhabitants the fellows of universities, with leisure — if they are indeed so well off — to pursue liberal studies the rest of their lives. Shall the world be confined to one Paris or one Oxford forever?”
— H.D. Thoreau, Walden “Reading”
I hope not.
I see the primary goal of the teacher to be un-educating the students (and they often need this). This is no less true in my English skills classes than in maths courses. Why? Simply, knowledge is a moving target. To mis-purpose a borrowed metaphor from Peter Elbow, writing (which is a means of communicating and re-purposing knowledge anyway) is like trying to hold onto Proteus in the midst of his shifting.
Having cleared, or actually perpetually clearing and finally teaching the students to clear away for themselves, the teacher ought to present opportunities for students to reach out and learn. Creating experiences which are as near as possible to those truly encountered is my primary teaching goal (although I reserve the right to change this later).
[Who’s responsible?
Oh right, and if student-centred learning is to be the way, students have to be made responsible for their learning. Thoreau let loose an image which still breathes in my mind: students do n’t care about school because it was already built for them. Instead they need to take part in the building of the school.
In fact, a school should be perpetually built (one could argue that this is the case due to entropy and narcissism anyway, or in many cases elitism). If knowledge is ever changing, should n’t its pursuers shift with it? As such, it certainly can’t invest in merely a few teachers, but learners ought to congregate. Hence we may have our villages at last — but we may be fewer than hoped.