Office, man-cave, and fortress of solitude. |
Adjust.
Repeat.
How hard can it be?
I'm an assistant professor of education. I have a doctorate in curriculum and instruction from a well-respected institution. I have years of teaching experience at the both the high school and collegiate levels, and, if you squint your eyes real tight, I almost look like an expert in my field. So let me offer my professional opinion:
Teaching is hard.
Though aspects of it get easier, it never gets easy. In fact, it's a profoundly frustrating endeavor in a consumption-based culture, because you're never able to finish it up and throw it away. It's like running a marathon where the finish line moves at the same pace you do. You sweat and agonize for hour upon hour, only to discover that you haven't even left the starting line. There's no summit to reach and no final clue to decipher. It's a road trip with no destination, and the answer to "are we there yet?" is always "no."
And this is exactly as it should be.
A teacher's job is never the same two days in a row. The raw materials of our profession are in constant flux, which is why the assembly line metaphor for education is so inappropriate. Yesterday's perfect fit might be today's perfect nightmare, and the insights I glean into today's students may not apply to tomorrow's. As tempting as it might be to rest on my laurels, it's a practical impossibility. Every day requires new inventions and new assumptions, because the students that enter my room today are not the same students who entered yesterday. Nor am I the same teacher who stood before them only 24 hours ago. The master teacher isn't the one who has learned all the tricks; instead, she's the one who can figure out what today's students need and can adjust on a moment's notice.
Teach. Adjust. Repeat. This is what a master teacher does.
These three simple words lie at the heart of every major teacher evaluation today, and they're based on the belief that good teaching is as much about strategically altering a lesson plan as it is about crafting a solid plan in the first place. The teacher who thinks strategically about student learning is good; the teacher who builds classroom structures that ensure this kind of thinking in herself and her students is very good, indeed.
Teach. Adjust. Repeat. How hard can it be?
Very, very hard, to tell the truth, because a teacher who builds inquiry structures is first a person who can do the same. In this way, the personal and professional overlap and intertwine, and growth in one arena is necessarily tied to growth in the other. The two domains are inextricably linked.
Unfortunately, though most professional development activities today are very good at helping teachers build professional structures, the development of the accompanying personal structures is almost never addressed. As a result, more and more teachers are finding themselves stretched between their personal and professional identities. They're expected to do things as teachers that they've not been equipped to do as people. The result? Fatigue. Disillusionment. Fear.
Teach. Adjust. Repeat. Three simple words. So easy on paper, so hard in life.
This blog is dedicated to exploring the link between teachers' personal and professional development. It is not a blog of teaching "techniques," nor is intended to replace any professional development activities offered by a district or a building. It doesn't pretend to have any answers or even to offer advice. If you're looking for a quick fix or an idea for tomorrow's lesson, you've come to the wrong place.
If, however, you're looking for a place to explore what it means to be a good teacher, to integrate your personal and professional identities, this might be the place for you. It's my hope that teachers in all stages of the profession, from the newest of undergraduate education majors to the most seasoned of veterans, will find the ideas and topics discussed here to be of immediate and practical value. For, as Parker Palmer says, "We teach who we are."