Kindergartener N---: ...AND I love C because of Ms. GarSEEuh!
Ms. Garcia: Oh thank you! And what does my name START with?
Kindergartener: . . . um . . .
Ms. Garcia: Same letter as "gosh", and "golly gee"! (These are two of his favorite words.)
Kindergartener:. . . Jesus?
Wednesday, November 10
The first two months
Excerpt from a "journal entry / reflection" required by the Intern Program at the end of October; the "Mary" in the third paragraph is my mentor teacher. The strength of this essay and realization come from my dear friend Eileen, who was visiting the weekend that I wrote this.
Recently I’ve been thinking about the mindset I step into when I turn onto Marlborough Street every morning—about the thing you call “a teacher persona”, or even a “professional persona”.
I think the word “persona” is a problem for me. Perhaps it’s the result of being over-educated in the humanities, but “persona” has the flavor of “façade” or “construction”. I understand that this idea is useful in the classroom-world where one is constantly extroverting oneself in order to be a good teacher, and in the professional environment where certain types of irreverence and humor are inappropriate or unhelpful. But I’ve been struggling with this, and have been feeling very tense about my interactions with students.
A small part of this difficulty, too, comes from spending so much time with the magnificent Mary. Since we share some personality traits, and since I have such respect and admiration for her teaching, and since I consciously copy so many of her absurdly effective phrases and habits with the kids—because of all this, I’ve found that I was struggling a bit to be in close quarters with a strong, respected personality while still being confident in my own personality. I’m more of a nerd than Mary, and have a different sort of goofiness than she does, and we speak from very different life experiences. I’ve been wondering how I can be confident while still adopting that necessary “teacher persona”.
And I believe I’ve found something of an answer!
Imagine a table covered with pebbles, shells, glass, buttons, coins, and all sorts of things. This mixed assortment constitutes one’s personality—traits, skills, habits, speech patterns, intonation, interests, et cetera. I had been (mistakenly) thinking of my “teacher persona” as a sheet which covered all the objects, on top of which I then would paint some alternate collection of objects, an alternate “Ms. García”. This is why I was feeling confused or insecure. A better way to think of it is that when I step into [the school] and then into the classroom, I’m choosing to lift up just a few of these objects. For example, I can choose to leave my teasing sarcasm on the table, and instead I lift up my ability to be easily delighted. I leave my love of complete control and my impatience for order, and lift up a calm and patient expectation of attention.
I’ve been reflecting on all of this, of course, not simply because it’s interesting but because it is the base on which the rest of my actions are built. It’s easier to think about concrete aspects of daily life—improving class management, lesson planning, giving directions clearly—once the most fundamental level of acting and interacting is steady. (This seems true to me for teaching as for all parts of life.)
This is similar to something I wrote about last week : that requiring students to follow rules is easier if you yourself believe in the value and reasoning of the rules. Without this steady base to build from, requiring rule-obedience becomes an act of mental and emotional gymnastics. I imagine it would be wearying and make one’s teaching less effective.
Similarly, having a clear way to think about my own behavior will allow me to spend less time on the emotional untangling, and more time on the really interesting questions : What would be helpful to this student right now? Is there a better way to explain this to the class? How should I structure my lesson to make the tempo correct? and so forth.
I think it would also be very good to sit in on some other classrooms when possible. Kristina, Amber, Jan, and John have all mentioned that they wouldn’t mind my observing, so I’m hoping to set up some times with them and with Mary in the next couple of weeks. It seems to me that one of the strengths and interests of this school is its collection of strong personalities, each applied in different ways to their own classrooms. I’m looking forward to seeing more of how this works.
Recently I’ve been thinking about the mindset I step into when I turn onto Marlborough Street every morning—about the thing you call “a teacher persona”, or even a “professional persona”.
I think the word “persona” is a problem for me. Perhaps it’s the result of being over-educated in the humanities, but “persona” has the flavor of “façade” or “construction”. I understand that this idea is useful in the classroom-world where one is constantly extroverting oneself in order to be a good teacher, and in the professional environment where certain types of irreverence and humor are inappropriate or unhelpful. But I’ve been struggling with this, and have been feeling very tense about my interactions with students.
A small part of this difficulty, too, comes from spending so much time with the magnificent Mary. Since we share some personality traits, and since I have such respect and admiration for her teaching, and since I consciously copy so many of her absurdly effective phrases and habits with the kids—because of all this, I’ve found that I was struggling a bit to be in close quarters with a strong, respected personality while still being confident in my own personality. I’m more of a nerd than Mary, and have a different sort of goofiness than she does, and we speak from very different life experiences. I’ve been wondering how I can be confident while still adopting that necessary “teacher persona”.
And I believe I’ve found something of an answer!
Imagine a table covered with pebbles, shells, glass, buttons, coins, and all sorts of things. This mixed assortment constitutes one’s personality—traits, skills, habits, speech patterns, intonation, interests, et cetera. I had been (mistakenly) thinking of my “teacher persona” as a sheet which covered all the objects, on top of which I then would paint some alternate collection of objects, an alternate “Ms. García”. This is why I was feeling confused or insecure. A better way to think of it is that when I step into [the school] and then into the classroom, I’m choosing to lift up just a few of these objects. For example, I can choose to leave my teasing sarcasm on the table, and instead I lift up my ability to be easily delighted. I leave my love of complete control and my impatience for order, and lift up a calm and patient expectation of attention.
I’ve been reflecting on all of this, of course, not simply because it’s interesting but because it is the base on which the rest of my actions are built. It’s easier to think about concrete aspects of daily life—improving class management, lesson planning, giving directions clearly—once the most fundamental level of acting and interacting is steady. (This seems true to me for teaching as for all parts of life.)
This is similar to something I wrote about last week : that requiring students to follow rules is easier if you yourself believe in the value and reasoning of the rules. Without this steady base to build from, requiring rule-obedience becomes an act of mental and emotional gymnastics. I imagine it would be wearying and make one’s teaching less effective.
Similarly, having a clear way to think about my own behavior will allow me to spend less time on the emotional untangling, and more time on the really interesting questions : What would be helpful to this student right now? Is there a better way to explain this to the class? How should I structure my lesson to make the tempo correct? and so forth.
I think it would also be very good to sit in on some other classrooms when possible. Kristina, Amber, Jan, and John have all mentioned that they wouldn’t mind my observing, so I’m hoping to set up some times with them and with Mary in the next couple of weeks. It seems to me that one of the strengths and interests of this school is its collection of strong personalities, each applied in different ways to their own classrooms. I’m looking forward to seeing more of how this works.
Licking pinecones
Today during snacktime, third-grader S--- said, with his pointer finger raised in the air and with a professorial tone, "To avoid licking pinecones, try using a crystal instead."
Context : This was in response to J--, who said that he'd made a birdfeeder during After School which was a pinecone covered in sunflower butter and birdseed, and he hadn't hung it up yet and sometimes he licked off the butter. (He later clarified that he licked it off its containing jar, not off the pinecone itself.) S--- was concerned for his health, and suggested a crystal because it's more sanitary and because "birds are attracted to sparkly things".
Context : This was in response to J--, who said that he'd made a birdfeeder during After School which was a pinecone covered in sunflower butter and birdseed, and he hadn't hung it up yet and sometimes he licked off the butter. (He later clarified that he licked it off its containing jar, not off the pinecone itself.) S--- was concerned for his health, and suggested a crystal because it's more sanitary and because "birds are attracted to sparkly things".
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