I just returned about thirty minutes ago from my teaching job. It was a lonely and chilly drive, a sentiment that was heightened by the fact that I had made a glaring mistake in my morning class, and had it brought to the attention of everyone.
It is not particularly important to describe the mistake. It was minor as things go, but it illustrates the fact that carelessness does have its consequences. As it happens, I thought I was engaging well with my students as I was writing on the board and illustrating a concept, but perhaps I incurred the wrath of those stern guardians who watch over teachers everywhere and judge their competence. That authority can be very unforgiving, and seems to accuse me with a steady stare, one that is seems to look through my eyes. I have had many uncomfortable out-of-body experiences during moments when I struggle or falter, and feel myself being judged.
Suffice it to say, I wrote something on the board that sounded correct, then had a student direct a question about what I had written. I noticed what I had written and was a little bewildered. I then described it as a variant (which it is), but I should have been more careful and not written it on the board. The class accepted my explanation, which makes it all the more uncomfortable because it reveals that there is a bond of trust.
It is always humbling when something like this happens. Many years ago (approximately fourteen, as a matter of fact), I had done something similar when I was a graduate student. One of my colleagues tried to reassure me by telling me that it happens to everyone, and he actually phrased it in the following way, saying that it was best to let the students know "that we aren't gods". He was correct, and not only did I see many others make mistakes, but I am still making them. And will continue to do so.
Still, it does gnaw at me. I should have been more careful, and in hindsight, there are preventative steps I could have taken. But the fact is that with spontaneity, there is always the possibility of making these mistakes. This does not detract from the value of spontaneity because without it the classes would be dreary exercises. Each contribution that a student makes, where the lesson strays in an unexpected manner and new avenues open up for exploration, is always a pregnant moment. They challenge me and provide an outlet for my creativity, as well as showing me a way to be more responsive to their concerns. These experiences are productive ones for the most part, but they aren't that common.
The fact is that this is a university setting, and students at this level tend to be eerily quiet. This is unlike the K-12 experience where, unfortunately, I have found that most students are oblivious to what is being offered by the teacher. Creative moments abound, but most of this creativity tends to be marshalled into the urgent task of maintaining discipline and order, not in exploring the class material. There are always disruptive students and the fact is that their overall mission seems to be to sabotage the teacher. This is one of the eternal verities of the public classroom, and one of the reasons why I couldn't wait to leave the K-12 experience behind me.
I'll have to make a clarification in the next class. And to think that up to that point I had been feeling very good about today. I had strayed off script, but felt it had been to the benefit of the class. My students were very involved in the lesson, and I even had volunteers. Well, most of them were engaged. There are always those who are texting surreptitiously, or drowsing, or doodling in their notebooks.
My evening class was better. I feel as if I am in my element when it comes to writing classes. There I have the sense of weaving a collective spell and producing essays from all sources.
My next assignment: a mea culpa to be served up humbly.
No comments:
Post a Comment