My teaching philosophy

Required. The word itself carries with it the yoke of suppression by the rules and deadlines of people who are outside of what the participant desires. Only in hindsight do we recognize that the requirements themselves are the framework of a functional existence. Therefore the teacher responsible for piecing together the puzzle for teaching a required course must accept this burden of functioning in the haze of misinterpretation.

For me, that burden is a joy, though.

As I lay the foundation in my senior level English literature class, I imagine these students building on the rock I’ve prepared for them. Don't tell my students, but I've been preparing them for writing throughout their college career by instilling a sense of curiosity.

My philosophy does not just refer to teaching English. I teach English because that’s my life experience. That’s what I do and what I know best. My philosophy of teaching reaches past the boundaries of grammar, literature, and analysis. I want my students to think for themselves. I do not mean my students should spew the words of great philosophers and life experts – although that will come with experience. I want students to be aware of their own potential. I want them to question life and expectations, to consider the possibilities, to refine their own interpretations. Inspiring those lessons is not easy. It takes setting the stage in a classroom that shakes their reality, reaching into their comfort zone and shattering it just a little bit. In my classroom, it starts with a bulletin board decorated with fruit-covered wallpaper. It also means having students analyze a simple essay for deeper meaning – not the writer’s, but their own – or determining who, Hamlet or Ophelia, was more victimized by their parents’ weaknesses in Shakespeare’s Hamlet.

Accessing students’ deeper learning happens once their reality becomes more accessible when viewed through the words of classic literature or modern film, when experienced through the lyrics of a good rock song or the science of a simple math equation, when analyzed through the microscope of exploration. To learn, we must break through the fear that holds us to others’ expectations. The learner must ask the burning question of an eager three-year-old – why? There is a reason that question is one of the six taught to budding journalists. ‘Why’ reveals intent and encourages honesty. It addresses motives, and, in so doing, creates deeper meaning, enabling the student to turn that child’s question into an adult’s philosophy.

To teach that deeper meaning, I teach the basics of writing: the art of brainstorming, the joy of free-writing, the structure of outlining, the randomness of clustering. Once the rough draft is complete, (heh, heh ... this is coming this week, students!) I teach them to question their essay like a journalist, asking them to possibly answer their question “outside the box.” And then comes the greatest sacrifice, peer review, where students must filter through the comments of classmates for the nuggets that will strengthen their work. The process does not end there, that is only when I actively join it and help them direct it. There is a tedious process to completion, but each step holds its own lessons. It’s in revision that we learn to focus our writing, and many a writer has gotten trapped by their own words.

I believe in the revision process, therefore, the final grade for an assignment is given when the student decides the work is complete. I am available to students and encourage early submission to allow for discussion about clarity of voice and whether the assignment may need another revision.

Writing, for many students, is just something for school. They believe they will not need these tools in the real world. Unfortunately, they will learn the truth soon enough. If they haven’t been taught the precision offered by clear writing they will be unprepared as soon as their employer asks for a proposal. The finished product may have too much information arranged haphazardly. When employers ask for clear directions, they may get imprecise writing that leads to confusion, as the chaos made worse by ambiguous instructions that contributed to the Three Mile Island accident.

The importance of writing is what drives me in my instruction. As a teacher, I am part of the process. I lay the groundwork that must be developed until college graduation and beyond. So, in summary, what is my philosophy? I offer students the tools, help them find answers to their questions, and guide them to a finished product using their own words at a newer, expanded level of comfort. The final product must be well-organized and accessible, as I expect my teaching to be.

And when I connect with students in this way, everything is great in my life.