A Curious Life

Today on the radio, Bill T. Jones, renowned modern dance choreographer, was asked about what it was like to create dance for a Broadway show, instead of his usual venue for his dance company.  He replied that the difference for him was creating something for people who tended to look to popular entertainment for their cultural input, rather than a smaller group of people who would regularly attend a performance by his dance company.  He mentioned that there is a portion of the theatergoing public who only want to see what they know, as in a revival of an older show, or even a recreation of a movie.

Curiosity.  This is part of what Mr. Jones is talking about.  I believe it is our job to impart and encourage curiosity, and make students aware of the wonder of discovering something they didn't already know about.  This instinctive curiosity is rampant in the younger grades, but fades as students get older, have more opportunities for self-distraction, and stare the stress monster of college applications in the face.  If curiosity survives college, how long does it last after someone has entered the workforce full time?  Have a family?  Many things take a back seat or go on hiatus when someone's life requirements exceed the energy and time that someone has to give to them.  What I hope for my students is that their curiosity doesn't completely disappear as they get older (and, often, it seems, more cynical).  Rather, helping to instill a lifelong curiosity in my students is what I see as a key part of my teaching goals, and one that will help them on the road to lifelong learning and optimism.

Dynamic Education

When I started teaching, I had a smaller view of my role in the school.  I taught my subject and was so busy getting my pedagogical house in order that I didn't have a lot of space in my brain to hear about the other things that my students were doing.

Near the end of my first year, my perspective on what I could offer students was beginning to broaden.  For example, one time I expressed frustration about how some of my younger students were doing.  Someone suggested to me that I think about how the students felt about their own difficulties.  My friend was right.  If I, who was used to operating at a higher level, was frustrated with their initial difficulties, the students, who were thrilled at the opportunity to play music were probably just as frustrated (if not more!) that the sound they were producing weren't as musical as they would like.  We were both equally frustrated, but for very different reasons!

A few years later, Dorothy DeLay, a renowned violin teacher  at Juilliard, passed away.  In articles about her career and success as a teacher, it was mention that she would remind people who said "I teach music." that no, they taught people how to play music.  Keeping the student in mind as a person, rather than "teaching Beethoven" or "teaching Stravinsky," changed how I saw my process and overall success.  Truly, a math teacher doesn't teach "long division" or "integration," but s/he teaches students how the process works and how they can replicate it on their own.  A history teacher doesn't teach "The Civil War," s/he teaches students the causes, impact, and long term effects of fundamental conflicts within U.S. society in the 19th century.

There's a saying that students won't care what you know until they think that you care.  There's truth in this, but the deeper truth is more along the lines that they won't care what you know (and are trying to share with them) until they know that you care about them and their future.

Thinking about these ideas helped me to verbalize what had been brewing in my brain for a few years: that teachers work with students to help them develop their skills to navigate the world.  Very few teachers at levels other than college work with students who will begin a vocation in their subject.  While having a student decide they share your passion and pursue a career in that field is rewarding, it is more important to remember that we also need to connect with students who aren't going to major in our field.  If we aren't going to create a classroom full of scientists, historians, mathematicians, musicians, artists, etc., then why are we teaching?  I'm not suggesting at all that we should be teaching down to people, or "dumbing down" what we know in order to reach students, rather we should meet students where they are and help them improve their understanding of the material and their own world in a number of ways, including in a linear, broad, aesthetic, and/or conceptual fashion.

The interactions that teachers have with each other and students are not unidirectional, and they shouldn't be in this country.  Other countries have a more direct delivery model, and they envy the dynamism and creative potential that the educational system in the United States offers.  We should remember, whether we are in a classroom or not, that we are all people, interdependent, and are at our best when we work together (even in the smallest of interactions!) to accomplish things (from basic to complex) in our daily lives.  This philosophy of daily living can put us on the path to great success!

The Optimistic Child

I recently started reading "The Optimistic Child" by Martin Seligman after hearing a recommendation at an institute I attended last summer.  I was interested for a few reasons.  One, I am definitely an optimist.  Two, not every single one of the people I have worked with were all optimists (shocking!).  Three, as a parent, I want to help my child develop a positive view of the world and the opportunities available to everyone in good times and bad.  Here's what I didn't expect:

How closely related the ideas in this book were to working successfully with students.  For example, focusing on the behavior, not the person.  I.e., instead of saying (and thinking!) "You are selfish," saying "You need to share more."  Instead of "This is a mess!  You are a total slob!", focusing on "This room is a mess!" BUT "You need to start picking up after yourself."  In the classroom this is present in not encouraging the idea of "I got a C in Math, I'm just not a Math person," but "I didn't do as well on that test, maybe I need to ask for more help/I need to identify what it is that I need to focus on in order to do better next time."

It is important to note that the author is not saying that being optimistic is a cure for depression, which can be related to body chemistry, debilitating, and part of a lifelong struggle to live a healthy, rewarding life.  What the author seeks to clarify is that we can give our children experiences that help them face difficulty, persevere, and solve problems.  We can give them skills that can help a person avoid triggers and spirals that can lead to depression.

The author suggest that instead of denying reality (what you are experiencing isn't real, it doesn't hurt your feelings, it isn't difficult), validate the child's disappointment and allow them to have those feelings - as much as you might want to simply make them vanish!  Help a child understand that effort and practice often compensate for a lack of natural ability or physicality.  Don't simply do something for a child without giving them a chance to try it again and let them achieve success, even if it's a small one.

And this is just the first chapter...I am looking forward to delving deeper into this book!