Inner Child or Inner Martyr?
The topic from David is the title.
First, congratulations to Adam and Heather on the birth of beautiful Sariah, the long-anticipated addition to the SGWP/BWP community.
I don't have a martyr in me. I'm not sure I have a child in me either. But I still have that sense of wonder, that sense that anything can happen, that sense that I can make things happen through will alone. Isn't that what writers do? Isn't that what teachers do? Good teachers make magic happen within classrooms. They create communities where people succeed despite poverty, hunger, bad attitudes, poor preparation. They create belief, belief that success is possible. They find the good in people, in situations. I don't think I'm Pollyanna, looking at a malnourished kid and saying, "Wow, how great that you're skinny." But I don't usually see failure when I look at students. I see potential writers, potential teachers. I see change agents. I want to work with other teachers, other writers, other change agents.
I want to help students achieve. I'm willing to devote extra time to help students who need help, but I'm not willing to listen to student complaints about why they can't achieve. That's what notebooks, friends, family are for--the venting. We actually talk about that in my class. I tell them I'll whine to Wes, and they can grumble to their friends and each other about the class and the workload, but not to me. I'm not interested in listening to teachers complain either. It doesn't help. It's easy to construct students as others, as people who just don't get it, who don't care enough, who aren't smart enough. It's untrue though. Students just may not care about the same things we do, but they care deeply about other things. We need to connect with them.
Okay, sorry. I'm lecturing, and who wants to hear a lecture? I don't.
I appreciate the Summer Institute because we discuss the constraints we face, but usually within the context of how to overcome those constraints, how to help students despite the limitations of discipline problems, changing state requirements, insufficient funding, etc. We don't wring our hands and say, "This is too hard. No one appreciates us." Instead, we look for funding sources, we investigate how to increase parental involvement, and we work to build bridges across disciplines, grade levels, and school districts.
As we move into crunch time of the Summer Institute, I just want to say thanks for your hard work, thanks for being a dedicated group of teachers and potential teachers who are change agents, who use writing to help students learn. You rock! I'm looking forward to the next stage of our community, the continuity as we return to our classrooms and enact these philosophies and strategies.
First, congratulations to Adam and Heather on the birth of beautiful Sariah, the long-anticipated addition to the SGWP/BWP community.
I don't have a martyr in me. I'm not sure I have a child in me either. But I still have that sense of wonder, that sense that anything can happen, that sense that I can make things happen through will alone. Isn't that what writers do? Isn't that what teachers do? Good teachers make magic happen within classrooms. They create communities where people succeed despite poverty, hunger, bad attitudes, poor preparation. They create belief, belief that success is possible. They find the good in people, in situations. I don't think I'm Pollyanna, looking at a malnourished kid and saying, "Wow, how great that you're skinny." But I don't usually see failure when I look at students. I see potential writers, potential teachers. I see change agents. I want to work with other teachers, other writers, other change agents.
I want to help students achieve. I'm willing to devote extra time to help students who need help, but I'm not willing to listen to student complaints about why they can't achieve. That's what notebooks, friends, family are for--the venting. We actually talk about that in my class. I tell them I'll whine to Wes, and they can grumble to their friends and each other about the class and the workload, but not to me. I'm not interested in listening to teachers complain either. It doesn't help. It's easy to construct students as others, as people who just don't get it, who don't care enough, who aren't smart enough. It's untrue though. Students just may not care about the same things we do, but they care deeply about other things. We need to connect with them.
Okay, sorry. I'm lecturing, and who wants to hear a lecture? I don't.
I appreciate the Summer Institute because we discuss the constraints we face, but usually within the context of how to overcome those constraints, how to help students despite the limitations of discipline problems, changing state requirements, insufficient funding, etc. We don't wring our hands and say, "This is too hard. No one appreciates us." Instead, we look for funding sources, we investigate how to increase parental involvement, and we work to build bridges across disciplines, grade levels, and school districts.
As we move into crunch time of the Summer Institute, I just want to say thanks for your hard work, thanks for being a dedicated group of teachers and potential teachers who are change agents, who use writing to help students learn. You rock! I'm looking forward to the next stage of our community, the continuity as we return to our classrooms and enact these philosophies and strategies.
1 Comments:
I like the phrase "change agents." This has been a valuable experience and the interaction are rpiceless. Too many ideas, have to sort them and see which to attempt first.
By Diana Chartier, at 9:43 AM
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