Saturday, April 27, 2013

Concluding Post: An Open Letter to My Students


April 28, 2013

Dear Past, Present, and Future Students:

To understand who I am as your teacher is to understand who I have been, and continue to be, as a learner.  By taking you on a journey of my life’s learning experiences, I hope you will gain a better understanding of my beliefs about education and my approach to instruction.  I also hope you find pieces of your own identity in my story so that you may become, as I have, someone who is motivated to make learning a meaningful, lifelong endeavor.   Writing this letter to you will allow me to reflect upon my teaching and learning, thereby enabling me to better understand you and your experiences in life’s curriculum. 

Let us begin with who I was at your age.  My high school was in a blue-collar, lower-middle class town.  The expectation was that we were to graduate and go to college to avoid a life of manual or technical labor, even though that is exactly what our families did to provide for us.  The high school, which was recognized for academic excellence, was our door to opportunity and success; but I did not view it as such.  I remained studious and earned good grades mostly to please my parents.  What I was learning, how much I was learning, and how I could apply new knowledge and skills was of little concern to me; I was motivated by grades and praise. 

Education became a game to me.  I wanted to cut corners and push the limits to see what I could get away with and still earn an ‘A’.  This led to failing to study when I knew I needed to, cheating when I did not have to, and completing my homework minutes before it was due to test my ability to perform under pressure.   In the U.S., we have a culture that values schooling over learning.  I knew that my parents, colleges, and employers would be more concerned about the classes I took and the grades I received than what I actually learned.  Unfortunately, I know that too many of you can relate to my high school experience and absence of intrinsic motivation. 

A general lack of ownership over my own learning persisted until my junior year of college.  It was then that I enrolled in one semester at the Universidad de Burgos, in northern Spain, to study Spanish art, history, geography, and language.  My studies included excursions to castles, cathedrals, vineyards, museums, aqueducts, and other sites that seemed to bring to life the material I was learning in the classroom.  Almost instantly, I developed an insatiable thirst for knowledge and new experiences.  I learned by exploring the country, experiencing the culture, and interacting with people, and I realized that this learning was enabled by (and dependent upon) my Spanish language proficiency.  I was motivated like never before to become more proficient. 

My experiences in Spain ignited my passion for learning, and it also changed my global perspective.  For the first time in my life, I had considered the world that exists outside of my home country.  I became aware of the impact my country’s decisions have on people in other parts of the world.  I met people that challenged my ideals and beliefs and made me consider how other people live life.  Those who had traveled the globe, learned multiple languages, and developed a “work to live, not live to work” mantra inspired me.  I wanted the same for myself.  But even more, I wanted the same for other Americans.  With a mission to promote second-language learning, cultural studies, and international travel, my decision to become a teacher was an easy one to make.  

Upon returning to the U.S., I found my classroom studies to be more meaningful.  No longer was I attending class and completing coursework just for the grade and the praise.  One particular professor made an impression on me with her approach to assessing student learning.  She assigned us to research the topic of our choice and present it to the class to demonstrate what we had learned.  There were no guidelines or rubrics.  We did not know how she wanted us to present our findings, how many sources we should include, or how we would be graded.  Her vague explanations were frustrating.  As it happened, I ended up putting more work into that assignment than any other that semester because I was driven by my own interests.  Though the inquiry project was nearly 10 years ago, I can still recite most of my findings, and, oddly enough, I cannot remember the grade I received. 

Image: Our Classroom as a Foreign Country

Those of you who were my past students will likely relate to my experience in high school, because your high school was in a similar setting and the expectations of your parents and teachers were relatively the same.  This led to many of you becoming extrinsically motivated and not taking an interest in your own education.  Reading of my evolution as a learner and what motivated me might help you make sense of the experiences you had in our classroom.  Our classroom was a foreign country within the school.

When you entered the classroom, I wanted you to have the feeling that you had been transported to another country.  The room was decorated with the flags of every Spanish-speaking country in the world.  We had pictures of architectural and geographical sights from many nations.  The Spanish language covered our walls and we had posters illustrating cultural practices that differ from our own.  We used both Spanish and English to communicate.  We learned about other cultures by experiencing them.  We danced and sang, made food and shared it, celebrated Latin American and European holidays, and interacted with media in the target language.  Most of you were motivated to advance your second-language skills because the classroom activities were authentic and you could see the purpose for them because you were assessing your own learning.  An underlying goal of the classes’ curriculum was to broaden your global perspective and promote the understanding and acceptance of people from other walks of life. 

Those of you I had in recent years may have had a different experience than those of you from my first year and second year of teaching.  When I first started teaching, I believed in drilling, rote memorization, and frequent testing.  With more classroom experience and continued teacher training, I began realizing that rote memorization was not truly learning and that traditional pencil-and-paper tests are unauthentic and often inaccurate ways of measuring students’ learning.  I also remembered the impact that my college inquiry project had on my learning.  As a result, I moved to a performance-based approach to assessment.  Cultural studies were transformed into inquiry projects that allowed you to explore your own interests and language learning was demonstrated through real-world application.  You were no longer asked to complete multiple-choice tests because our classroom was a foreign country and you were being tested each day with authentic experiences in a language and culture unlike your own.  

I earned a reputation among you students as being “The Cell Phone Nazi”.  With just the sight of your cell phone, I would confiscate it and require your parents to come to the school to get it back.  As you know, I believe in using technology to enhance the learning experience, but I viewed your cell phones as a distraction.  I wanted you to be present in the moment and engaged in the lesson instead of texting your friends or using social media.  This view of mine has been challenged by my graduate-level coursework and I now see a place for cell phones in the classroom.  They offer access to a wealth of information and seemingly endless opportunities to interact with the outside world.  I am interested in exploring how to maximize the use of cell phones and tablet devices.  After all, we want the citizens of our country within a classroom to be innovative and competitive in a global society.

I am not presently teaching in a classroom, so it has become more difficult to identify who my current students are.  My girlfriend has allowed me to continue my role as an educator.  Although she has nearly completed her master’s degree in teaching, she still looks to me for guidance with planning lessons, developing curriculum and assessing students’ learning.  My graduate work and experience in the classroom have been useful resources for her ongoing development of a teaching philosophy, and she, too, has adopted the “classroom as a foreign country” image for her middle school Spanish classroom.  Our frequent collaboration has allowed me to continue impacting students’ experiences with school and life’s curriculum. 

It is not known whether I will find my future students in a classroom or elsewhere.  I dream of one day operating an organization that takes high school students from the United States abroad to participate in language and cultural immersion programs.  I would recruit you students from all walks of American life to enroll in these programs.  The curriculum would encourage you to become an intrinsically motivated learner of life’s curriculum.  You would develop second language skills, a global citizenship perspective, and an acceptance of diverse populations by becoming part of a foreign community.  Instead of an image of a classroom as a foreign country, the foreign country would be your classroom, and you would learn by experiencing it.  My hope is that you would gain an understanding of the world’s interconnectedness and how our actions affect one another.  I would want you to experience how others live life and to learn that there are many pathways to happiness and success. 

The truth is that this vision for my future students’ education has been heavily influenced by my own experiences in life’s curriculum.  My interactions with you past and current students have been guided by these experiences as well.  I have this vision for your education because it is what ignited my passion for learning and brought me success in life’s curriculum.  However, there is no definitive answer to what should be learned in life or how it should be taught, so perhaps my vision is no better than any other person’s vision when developing a curriculum.  More important is to understand how my personal convictions and experiences influence the curriculum set before you, and writing this letter to you has brought me to this realization. 

I thank you for giving me this opportunity to reflect.

Sincerely,

Christopher Shier

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