My Teaching Philosophy

In order to be truly effective, educators must recognize that what they teach is merely a vector for the greater objective: teaching students how to think. Regardless of the practice fodder, students must be taught how to critically consume information, break it down to understand its individual parts, compare it to their present understanding, and use it to build a new understanding that is truly theirs. Developing these skills is vital to preparing them for life-long learning in a dynamic future.

My drive to educate is fueled by my desire to make the invisible visible, and thereby demystify the process of understanding. In my teaching methods classes, an article by Robert Probst stood out to me by explaining that American high school English classes are too often taught as prep courses for a literature degree; whereas many of the students may not pursue higher education at all, let alone study literature beyond the minimum requirements. In this environment, few skills are taught; instead, students spend the vast majority of their time reading texts that don’t resonate with them, and then attempting to demonstrate their understanding by supplying analyses that they haven’t been taught to perform. Consequently, they often conclude that “the right answer” is a nebulous entity secreted away in the mind of the teacher and are only further confounded when a select few “chosen ones” have the seemingly magical ability to divine this answer and succeed. Although I was often among the “chosen,” my experience was quite similar. Even when I had “the right answer” or understood that there could be multiple right answers, I couldn’t truly understand what constituted “right” without understanding the rules governing literary analysis, which prevented me from consistently reproducing success. Unfortunately, two university degrees in literature did little to bring clarity.

What did eventually provide clarity was the teacher’s edition accompanying a textbook adopted after my first year teaching. It not only explained what was right but also how it was arrived at, due largely to Probst’s work as one of the publisher’s subject matter experts. This distinction quickly became my guiding principle. Students are capable of so much more when education teaches transferable skills rather than static content. If students are taught how to think, rather than what to think, they are equipped to tackle whatever learning that may be required in order to be successful.

 

My teaching style can be best described as student-centered. Success comes more easily when
students build skills in the context of something they find interesting. I’ve often facilitated this reaction by providing a context for assignments that students find engaging: allowing them to choose topics or deliverables, incorporating picture books and young adult literature, analyzing modern music, and incorporating current events or pop culture. Striking the right balance at the outset with a mini-lesson for context, just enough background knowledge, and a curated collection of resources before releasing them to explore and create to demonstrate their understanding helps ensure that students are energized to work at their own pace instead of being bored before they even start. As students work, I support them with availability for their specific questions at point-of-need and making suggestions to help guide their thinking. To make this work, students must feel inspired to acquire the skills, but also feel safe to struggle along the way. From the beginning of our time together, I always strive to craft an environment where the students and I see ourselves as a community of practice, working together to equip each other with the skills we need.

My ultimate goal as an educator is to provide more than just ready access to mere information. Instead, I aim to make my learning space — physical or virtual — a service-oriented workshop where students acquire and hone skills vital to life-long learning in a dynamic world. I revel in introducing students to this concept of modern learning, where new technology is embraced, graphic novels are celebrated, puzzles are solved, games are played, and tinkering is encouraged. In short, this style of teaching is a riotous, evergreen Neverland that gatekeepers of musty institutions fear, but which I love.