It’s Our Story and We’re Sticking To It: Seven weeks to an Original Play

Posted: 20th May 2012 by Ms. H in Classroom Management, Pedagogy, Theater
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I’ve had a fantastic semester with my first ever theater arts class. Performing is something that has been a passion and pursuit of mine since grade school. In fact, before the idea of teaching ever crossed my mind, I had the goal of majoring in musical theater and trying to “make it big” as an actor and singer. While my career changed direction, my love for theater still exists, and when I found out that I’d get to teach a semester of theater arts, I was pretty pumped.

I’ve had many awesome experiences teaching this class. We started out learning about theater history in America–many people don’t know about the massive cultural influence that dramatic works have contributed (and still do) to our nation’s history. I later worked with students to build their acting skills, spending time developing the basics–we began with how to stand and walk with confidence and created characters from there. I pushed my students to think about the physicality of their characters down to the smallest nuance–the fingers, the eyebrows, the spine–to notice how everything combines to send a message of emotion and personality. We worked on vocal projection and characterization, then on chemistry as we practiced showing character relationships through touch, expression, and vocal reaction. I taught design basics for costumes and sets, and watched students present detailed sketches of their creations. We sang pieces from musical theater. We read and analyzed Thornton Wilder’s Our Town to explore the idea of the “thinking man’s play.” Above all, my students had me laughing my head off on a daily basis as they presented witty skits and played improvisation games. I was… pretty much in heaven. As much as I love writing and literature, (and film, food, art, animals, cities, the ocean, etc.) theater is definitely a competitor for the position of What I Love Best. Sharing that joy with students is extremely satisfying.

The week before spring break, I talked to my class about the idea of a final assessment. Aside from the theater history unit, all of my assessments for the class had been performance-based (naturally). I liked the idea of a final performance that would roll together everything that they had worked on throughout the semester, but I wanted to get an idea of what they’d be comfortable with and willing to take on. To my surprise and glee, they were gung-ho about presenting a “for real” performance. The following was our process for getting from concept to curtain in seven weeks flat.

WEEK ONE: We started with an initial discussion to answer the vital questions–Should we present an already-published play, or write our own? If we write our own, what should it be about? Should we invite the general public, student body, or just family members? Where should the play be held? When should it be held? Once we got those basic questions answered, we decided upon an evening performance, in the auditorium, for the general public. We also decided we’d like to write our own material. The most popular idea was a “fairytales retold” type of story where characters from different tales could intermingle and run into some strange situations.

Once the concept was clarified, we began to mold it into something. Since all the students would be acting in the show, each student chose a character they’d most like to portray on stage. Then, five small groups were given two days to write twenty minutes of original material based around the characters of their choosing. Each group presented a reading of their script to the entire class. After each skit was presented, we had another full class meeting (with me taking down minutes in real time, displayed via LCD projector). We discussed the aspects of each skit idea that we liked or disliked, and started listing ideas for ways in which we could fuse the material together. Since one group’s skit was about a self-help group for fairytale characters, the students decided that we could use that situation as a device to jump off from into “flashbacks” of the stories that led up to each character’s  arrival in therapy. It sounded good, and we were ready for week two.

WEEKS TWO-THREE: When students arrived on Monday, they were expected to join a committee in order to focus and specialize their work as we prepared for the performance. I reiterated that in order for any type of performance to get off the ground, I needed my class to work hard for me, and I needed to be able to trust that they could collaborate like adults. If I was to be the director and orchestrator of this extravaganza, I knew I would not have time to spend energy on classroom management. The classroom needed to manage itself. In order to help the students with that, I introduced them to the criteria I expected them to fulfill in order to recieve participation credit. I used this document: HOW TO COLLABORATE LIKE AN ADULT , which may be the most useful classroom document I have ever written. My students took it to heart, and got down to business at a level that, truly, stunned me. They were Ready To Go, so I just got out of their way.

I provided the structure of the committees that they could choose from. The Writing Committee would be in charge of taking the current skit ideas and using them as a starting point to create a full one-act play of 30-50 minutes. They used Google Docs to collaborate and communicate as they worked together to develop the script. The Productions Committee was in charge of all the show’s technicalities–designing, determining, and creating all costumes, set pieces, props, and lighting. These students also functioned as the show’s set crew in addition to acting. The Promotions Committee handled the design of all promotional materials, like posters, t-shirts, and locker signs. They were also in charge of organizing fundraisers (thanks to these kids, we raised nearly $300.00 to cover all of our costs via community sponsors and a massive bake sale). The Student Direction Committee helped the writers develop characters, and eventually worked alongside me to coach our cast on their acting. One girl even put together a student directing handbook as part of her senior English project. Finally, the Mangagement Committee created a calendar, helped me (and everyone) stay on schedule, and determined all the channels we needed to go through to secure a performance space and get our fundraisers going.

We spent two weeks meeting in committees in the library, where there was plenty of space to gather around computers, or scatter paperwork across big tables. I also gave each committee one “Official Theater Arts Business” pass so that they could move about the building as needed to check in with administration, fetch keys for the costume room, or obtain raw materials. While students occasionally, and without intent to harm, overstepped this freedom a bit, they were extremely productive and responded to my guidance about the etiquette that neccessarily accompanies the trust they’d been given. While they worked, I did too–mainly in order to get us a performance space that wasn’t already taken on the one evening we had to work with. Graciously, the middle school in our district was able to offer their auditorium. We set a date and things started to get real!

WEEK FOUR-FIVE: On the first day of week four, the script was hot off the press and we did our first readings. We walked through rough blocking and gave the students a chance to familiarize with their characters. We made some edits based on character consistency and the reality of our set budget, so the initial script quickly went through a few iterations. One scene was completely rewritten. After everything seemed pretty finished, we got down to serious business as far as building convincing performances, choreographing chases/falls/fights, and growing increasingly comfortable with the flow of the story. Meanwhile, students who weren’t being coached were building set pieces, running lines, or folding programs. This all happened in my classroom every day, with all the desks pushed back against one of the long walls. I also lucked out in a huge way as my next door classroom neighboor, the wonderful Mr. M, offered his room as additional space for students to run lines. As a fellow performer, he also offered some tidbits of advice to the bidding actors that came his way. By the end of week five–just as the calendar required–the kids were off book. (Mostly…)

WEEK SIX: On week six, we started traveling to the middle school auditorium during our class time to rehearse. Again, luck was definitely on our side. Both the high school and middle school administration were very accomodating with our daily journey, not to mention the walk between buildings only amounts to about 9 minutes of travel time. The first two days were completely “prop commando” as my students called it–no props, scenery, or lighting at all–as we got used to the space. On Wednesday, we started adding props, lighting, and scenery as much as possible. After-school obligations began to appear for me: picking up some costume rentals and hauling large set pieces/costume items between buildings. The show was really coming together. My inner director was busting out all over the place. As kids played their scenes I was constantly barking out corrections and encouragements. (The most popular things I shouted each day were probably “I DIDN’T HEAR ANY OF THAT”, ”YES! BETTER! KEEP GOING!”, and “FIX IT NOW”) I had hearty chuckle at least eight times a day, due to my students’ hilarious stage antics. I started to fret a little bit though. Several kids were still consistently missing their lines, and nobody was loud enough to be heard from the back rows. But nevertheless, the announcements were read and posters were posted. There was no going back, so I got my game face on.

WEEK SEVEN: Monday through Wednesday of the final week, we ran troublesome scenes and worked the many transitions between scenes with lighting and set elements. We finally had all our set pieces, costumes, and props, so we made sure we knew how and where all those things would move and contribute to the show. And I stopped supplying missing lines. Those first couple days were rough to watch the students grope and stall, trying to resurrect those occasional forgotten lines whilst a tidal wave of frustrated silence practically flattened me. We also had “projection bootcamp” to improve the volume of students’ voices onstage–I sent them to the next door classroom and we listened to each other through the wall. It greatly illuminated the difference between a projected voice and a regular one, and everyone improved quite a bit. By Thursday, we were ready to rock. We held an additional dress rehearsal after school, which went fairly smoothly. Afterward, witches, warriors, princes, and wizards sat on the front of the stage, feet dangling, as I gave them each last-minute corrections. The show would be the next evening, and we were nearly ready.

On Friday in class, we went over the logistics of the afternoon and evening as well as some last minute reminders. Students also got one more chance to practice troublesome scenes. Of course, some t-shirt decorating and general excitement also took place. We did one more run-through immediately after school, without costumes or makeup. Then, we had an obligatory unofficial meeting at Jimmy John’s. Mr. M offered his generous co-chaperoning services, which I gladly accepted. Everyone was in great spirits, excited and happy, including me. The peaceful feeling of “it’s as good as it’s gonna get” started to wash over me. I knew my kids would be great.

We returned to the auditorium and the students started getting their hair, makeup, and costumes ready. Nostalgia overwhelmed me as I thought back to the many productions I’ve taken part of in the past. It was strange and beautiful to be on the other side of the process, knowing the nervous anticipation and excitement that they were feeling, calmly bustling a dress that had suffered a slight rip, gently painting monkey and joker faces, giving out those “You’re going to be so awesome” encouragements to ease nerves, and ushering the students backstage as audience members started to arrive.

This can only end one way, right? The show was absolutely fantastic. The characters all showed up, including the overzealous villains, cantankerous fairyfolk, and lovestruck princesses. My students executed everything perfectly, nobody forgot a line, and the audience loved it. I was floored by how well they did, and overflowing with teacherly pride. Probably the best part of it all, other than having the special privilege of getting to watch them do their thing in spectacular fashion, was seeing all my students bounce out from backstage after the last bows, smiling and jumping happily in their assorted wings and capes and tails and crowns as they ran to greet family and friends. Pure happiness. And a great accomplishment for each and every one of them.

It was a small play, in a small auditorium in a small town, with a small audience. But it was one of the biggest things I’ve done as a teacher, and I couldn’t be prouder of my very own theater arts classroom company.

 

 

Mission (Not So) Impossible: teaching English to high school students with ADHD

Posted: 28th March 2012 by Ms. H in Classroom Management, Pedagogy
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***Disclaimer: I am not an expert on ADHD, ADD or any related disorders. As always, medical and counseling professionals are the people to turn to when looking for a diagnosis or treatment for these conditions. The following post is based solely on my experience as a classroom English teacher, and should be taken as such.***

At the outset of this semester, I looked at one of my new class rosters with a bit of leeriness. Or, perhaps dread defines it better—in a cruel twist of fate, all of my sophomores who have been diagnosed (or who self-diagnose) with attention difficulties were now grouped in the same class. Even more to my chagrin, a heaping handful of my counterpart sophomore teacher’s toughest crew were ALSO on my new roster. The memory of my pre-service teaching education reminded me “now, don’t judge these kids before you see how they actually act together.” Reality nudged me closer to thoughts like “heaven, preserve me. This is going to be a nightmare.” The chuckles of my co-workers while viewing my class list did not help the situation.

True to my trepidations, the first few days involved a lot of firm shutting-down of jumping, blurting out offensive or (or just loud) statements, banging on desks, and flicking/poking/trying to pick each other up at the beginning of each class. I was whipping out my strictest persona all over the place. I held things together… but probably just barely. I started to wonder if this class would break my record of zero referrals since working at SFHS—then again, it’s hard to know who to kick out when the entire classroom is a powder keg of chaos. I found myself thinking, “I just don’t know if I’ll ever be able to facilitate this class at the same level as my others.” Every day, it seemed like I was expending a herculean amount of effort just to keep the ball rolling in one, straight direction with minimal deviation.

Now, one quarter later, I am proud to say that my “nightmare” class and I have reached an understanding, and I have grown extremely fond of them. As always happens, once I began to have human conversations and humorous interactions with my students, my assumptions about them began to fade away and I found myself charmed in spite of myself by their occasional antics. They have also met me halfway and, in general, show me respect, perform fairly well academically, channel their energy in positive ways, and answer “yes, ma’am” to the occasional redirection. Looking back over these nine weeks, I’m trying to identify the miracle. I mean, I am no Mary Poppins. In writing this post, I’m trying to explore these questions: What did I do right? And how can I do it again?

I think, on the most basic level, the key to reaching this understanding with my students comes from knowing that their initial behavior was not a hateful vendetta against me. Part of it was brain chemistry, forgetting to take medication, and the stress of a new classroom environment. Another big part of it was their default instinct to fulfill the prophecy of the messages that have been fed to them for their entire educational lives. I can make this assertion with confidence, since several of them came straight out and told me, upon our first meeting, “I have ADHD so… yeah, we might not get along” or “you’re not gonna be seeing a whole lot of homework from me. I mean, really…my mind is WACKO!” I said what I usually say to such things, “Oh. Ok. Well, thanks for telling me.” That shook them up a little bit. I always refuse to react in a major negative way with students, even when they come at my class from a negative mental place. Diffuse and redirect are always my actions of choice. That basic principle, combined with the hopefully helpful tips below, is my way of revising the prophecy to one of classroom success.

TIPS FOR HARNESSING THE SECRET AWESOMENESS WITHIN ADHD HIGH SCHOOL STUDENTS

  1. Identify the instigator(s). In a class full of behaviorally reactive students, it is important to figure out who typically begins the cycle of distraction or deviation. It’s usually not the loudest kid who gets the class rolling. Figure out who that young man or lady is, and address their behavior, privately and firmly, as soon as possible. They need to understand that one initial action that they view as harmless can send the entire operation reeling. Often, this student doesn’t even realize that he or she is instigating and will apologetically shape up. When the leader is suddenly a good example rather than an instigator, the majority of students will begin to really try to fly right.
  2. This next one is good classroom management practice no matter what, but it’s even more important in a class with several ADHD students. Make sure expectations are crystal clear, always consistent, and easy to understand. Also, try to express your expectations in physical terms rather than conceptual ones. For example, “Let me see your eyes so that I know you’re paying attention” works better than “Please pay attention.” It’s also better to describe what you want to see, rather than what you don’t. So: “I need to see you sitting down and writing right now” is typically better than “stop messing around.”
  3. Teach students ways to recognize and manage the thought process that leads up to disruptive behavior. This is what I say to my class almost every day: “You need to make a choice before reacting to something somebody else says or does, about whether or not it’s useful to react. If you have no useful reason to react, ignore it. Do not worry so much about what other students are doing. Your job is to make sure that you are doing something positive and good.” [Repeat, repeat, repeat]
  4. Give students tools to use when that thought process management attempt fails and they begin to escalate or lose attention completely. In my eyes, sending a student on a “walk” (with a pass, and no longer than 7 minutes), is a completely acceptable and good way to manage extra energy. As long as students don’t abuse it, this policy offers them time and space to cool down and collect themselves, before they do something that will require a different type of walk to the principal’s office.
  5. Try your best to empathize with and verbally acknowledge the extra effort it takes for students with ADHD to focus and produce a product. They don’t often get to hear that validation and understanding that, yes, it is tougher for them to do the same things that other students do. However, that’s not always a detriment. The same kids who seem to be focusing on a million things at once can often focus at an intense level on a goal, once they “get in the zone.” It’s getting them in the zone that’s the issue. Setting many short term goals and giving lots of genuine praise as goals are achieved sets students up for a good experience.
  6. If at all possible, stay fast-paced and active in your teaching lessons. Give the students constant things to look at and do. Be excited, theatrical, and loud, if appropriate. (I’m pretty sure anyone watching me teach this particular class might think that I, too, have ADHD.)
  7. As always, I’ve found that personal relationships are key. A kid may act like a terror during an “off” day in class, but when I see him two hours later in the hallway, I’m still going to say “hi” and “how’s it going?” Just giving any student the small recognition of noticing and caring about their existence does wonders for managing that student in a classroom setting.

Not every day in room 209 is a shining example of classroom management, even in the sections with very well-behaved students. There are always rough days (for instance, my recent lesson in the computer lab when all the power went out and everything went to heck). But I guess the message to come away with here is that there can be far, far fewer rough days when the students and teacher understand and respect one another. In some cases, that’s way easier said than done. But a lot of times, it’s those same cases that are all the more rewarding.

Teaching AP Literature: Maiden Voyage

Posted: 18th March 2012 by Ms. H in Literature, Pedagogy, Reflections, Resources for Educators, Writing
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It’s difficult to wrap my mind around the reality that I’m just months away from finishing out my first year teaching AP English Literature and Composition. This new part of my teaching load was daunting at first, considering I knew nothing about the AP program and that I had never before had the opportunity to put together an honors, let alone an AP course. I knew I was up to the challenge, having always been a person who demanded academic rigor of myself. Still, I knew that this would entail a lot of work… especially considering that, for the first time, I’d be working with students who are all academically very pretentious. Deep down, I had to question whether I would be able to convince them of my knowledgeability and credibility. I knew I couldn’t really “fake” my way through this, not even a little, because students who expect a lot of themselves expect even more of their teachers. My fears were not quickly assuaged; for the first two months of the course, my students regarded me in mostly silence–a silence I had absolutely no way of comprehending. “They hate me,” I thought to myself on a routine basis. Then: “Maybe they’re scared of me? Or scared to fail?” Or sometimes: “God, I hope they don’t think I’m an idiot who’s just faking my way through this.”

Luckily for us all, I have been investing a good percentage of my life since last June studying, preparing, reading, experimenting, and evolving in order to be worthy of my position as an “expert” teacher of literature, and my students now do speak to me, smile at me warmly, and laugh at my (usually stupid) jokes. [Example, for discussion of Richard Wright's Native Son: This man's criminality stems from BIGGER influences than just his own independent choices... Um... no pun intended.] And, they are learning. They are making progress in their writing that I can visibly see. They tell me that they feel “enlightened” by what they’ve learned this year, and recently played a role in electing me as the commencement speaker for their graduating class. To my shock, awe, and happiness, I must be doing something right!

Don’t get me wrong–I am still very much the novice when it comes to teaching AP. Just look at a list of commonly cited texts of the essay portion of the exam, and it’s very difficult not to feel overwhelmed by the amount of canonical literature one hasn’t read and hasn’t taught. It seems I’ve already got a list a mile long when it comes to things that I’ll be doing a little differently next year. But for the most part, it’s been a great success. Granted, the students’ scores on the exam in May will be a more accurate measure of that success in a quantitative sense, but I am proud of what these students have been able to accomplish no matter what number they pull on the actual test. I am looking forward to building upon this first success, and eventually becoming a master AP Lit teacher… someday!

Since I learned a lot by doing, I’d like to share the outline of my course for those who are interested either to adopt aspects of it into their own AP plans, or those who’d like to offer new ideas that I (or anyone) could incorporate into this initial frame.  I found syllabi that were posted online to be another great help in the initial formation of my course, so I’ll make my own available as well.

Ms. H’s AP Literature Voyage Log

Summer syllabus: AP English Literature and Composition Summer Syllabus (PDF)

School year syllabus: AP English Literature and Composition Syllabus 11-12 (PDF)

My basic approach/primary goals for students

*Thorough exposure to great literature: Over two semesters, students read twelve novels/plays and dozens of poems and supplementary readings from a wide range of time periods and authors.

* I took a chronological and philosophical approach, organizing units by time period but also by the mindset of the time. When needed, I filled in gaps in students’ history knowledge (like more intimate details of the French Revolution or a deeper analysis of colonialism/racism in America than textbooks provide). I made sure that students could understand the unique historical terms, literary period, and worldview under which each story was formed. This really helped their analyses become more sophisticated, rather than repeating tired aphorisms gleaned from simplified impressions of history.

*Nearly every day, students define and apply a new literary term. From “foil” to “colloquialism” to “ballad meter” to “deus ex machina,” they need to be able to wield these terms in writing and identify them on the multiple choice section. I also focus on teaching the many words that can be used to describe tone, like “elegiac” or “pedantic.”

*Close reading, close reading, close reading… we come back to this often–learning and practicing how to truly interpret language, identify the effects of language choices, and using that information to support a well-crafted thesis. [Click on this link for a Powerpoint fashioned to introduce the concept: Writing about literature! ]

*We take, dissect, and question practice multiple choice exams, in an effort to learn what to expect and how the questioning process seems to operate.

*Constant writing. Ask my students, and you will find that they write quite a bit. There are eleven formal essays in all, each of which I spend copious time commenting on. I identify and explain moments of success, problematic sections, and give a final remark along with the grade at the end. It’s worth the entire day that it takes to grade a full class’ worth, because the students respond and enhance their writing as a result. Revision is expected and encouraged.

*Much academic discussion is required, as a full class, with smaller groups, and with me. Students annotate their texts in preparation, and are pushed daily to make comments (spoken and in writing) which, in the words of the AP course description, are “insightful” and “acknowledge complexity.” My students have come an extremely long way in this category, and it’s the one that I’m most proud of. They truly have gone from making banal, insipid generalizations to impressing me on a daily basis with the kinds of things that they observe and characterize. [Click this link for my powerpoint on insight/complexity: developing insight2]

 

Fellow AP instructors, I have a new respect for what you do. Congrats on all the work you’ve done, and that which you’ll continue to do. Academic rigor is something sorely needed in American schools, and it’s truly a gift to have a group of students who embrace that opportunity with open arms. Best of luck on the exam. *Fingers crossed for a class full of threes, fours, and fives*

 

Student Collaboration… on Autopilot

Posted: 3rd January 2012 by Ms. H in Classroom Management, Pedagogy
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A couple weeks ago, I was focusing on teaching my students to go beyond the literal in their interpretation of literature, both in written form and film. For tenth graders, it is difficult at times to spy symbolic meaning rather than what’s on the surface. On this particular day, I used a film clip of Baz Luhrman’s Romeo + Juliet, asking the students to identify elements of the scenery, costumes, colors, music, and casting and the effects that these choices create. After the clip, I did the teacherly thing and stood before them, giving clear instructions about how to take their notes on the film/play and how to form theories about the underlying messages of the text. After giving the instructions and clarifying a couple questions, with 15 minutes left in class, I said (well, I guess “shouted”), “Remember, I’m looking for real critical thinking! See me with questions! Due tomorrow! And… Go!”

Then, something weird happened.

My students all stood up and started moving their desks, forming small groups of 2-3. My knee jerk reaction was to snap into correction mode–something like, “Whoa, whoa, whoa… Where are you guys going?! Did I say to get into groups?! Stay in your seat and get to work!” But, I didn’t. I just frowned a little and watched them. What was going on? Such rebellion!

But as I sat and watched through slightly narrowed and suspicious eyes, I saw what I soon realized to be one of those waking-dream-magical teacher moments. The groups were evenly formed. No one was left out. They were facing their desks together, just as I so often remind them to do. (It’s impossible to collaborate with people whose eyes you can’t see into, I say.) My students were talking at a low volume, but with an excited, nearly conspiratory tone. Listening closely, I heard things like…

*** “Ok, I wrote down something about the designs of the Friar’s tattoos, especially the big cross on his back…”   “Me too! But I’m not sure what it means, other than the obvious religious stuff.”  “Well, he’s not wearing a shirt and we know that he’s like a master of herbs or something, maybe it means that he’s close to nature but also serving religion?”

*** “Did you notice how Romeo and Juliet were in the pool during the balcony scene? I bet that’s related to the fishtank thing we thought of the other day, with the blue and yellow fish mixing for Romeo and Juliet’s families.” “Oh my gosh, you are completely right! Which color was Capulet?” “Blue–they have blue cars… Wait, but Juliet doesn’t wear blue.”  “No, remember, she’s always wearing white to show her innocence and, you know, she’s neutral.” “So… now they are the fish! And they’re not separated by glass anymore! Awwww!”

*** “So, the beach is totally Romeo’s emotions. Sunny when he’s happy, foggy when he’s depressed. It’s like the whole city goes along with what he’s feeling.”  “So that could mean… the peace of Verona depends on him.”

*** “Don’t be SO LITERAL, dude! It’s gotta mean something DEEPER!”

There they were, talking, writing, and trading theories. I just sat at my desk in bliss and did nary a dang thing. I took a deep breath and thought: yes. This is exactly what I have been trying to get them to do ALL YEAR LONG! That’s what mastery looks like. My students were thinking critically, collaborating in a positive, mature way, and totally engaged. Some called me over to check their ideas against my opinion or offered me two options, asking which would be the better interpretation. I had a ridiculous amount of fun discussing it with them.

So what does it say about me as a teacher that my students collaborate automatically? Well, a couple things. Perhaps it does mean that I need to be more direct about my desires when I wish them to work independently. But I hope it also means that I have trained them well to collaborate successfully in an academic context–to use the presence of their peers as an intellectual alliance rather than a simple social opportunity. I hope it means that I’m reinforcing the value of collaboration and “talking out” ideas, and the positive aspects of admitting confusion, taking risks, and watching theories evolve before their eyes.

I’m glad that, at least on this day, I sacrificed my need for management and control in exchange for the gift of seeing my students’ authentic, organic collaboration skills at work. 

A related sample of my students' work, using visual language to portray thematic concepts from Romeo and Juliet

Reflections on NCTE’s Centennial Convention (Chicago, 2011)

Posted: 30th November 2011 by Ms. H in Educational Leadership, Pedagogy, Reflections, Resources for Educators
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I recently was able to participate in the most major professional enrichment adventure of my career so far–the National Council of Teachers of English annual convention, held this year in Chicago, IL at the Chicago Hilton and Palmer House. It was the most gigantic gathering of English educators I’ve ever witnessed, and was a once in a lifetime experience in several ways. Since NCTE ’11 was such a rapid-fire, varied multiday experience, I’ve decided to post about it in a personal journal style, using snippets from my reflection notebook. It is my hope that I can pass on some of the useful ideas, resources, and inspiration gained from this professional adventure, and offer a glance into one teacher’s perspective on the NCTE Centennial Celebration.

DAY ONE (Thursday, 17 Nov 2011)

10:25 am: I am riding in a white behemoth of a van with two of my fellow English teacher coworkers, Ms. D and Mr. M. There is music steadily humming through the speakers and I’m offering  some backseat harmonies to the soft singing-along of my colleagues. It sounds idyllic, because it is–I have (what I know is) the unique luck of having a fantastic, supportive friendship with these two and Ms. J, who is already in the Windy City waiting to meet us! Compound the collegial love with the fact that our stellar principal allowed our voyage to be funded through school, and I feel like the luckiest teacher in the state. So thankful for this opportunity to see some of the best minds in my field do their thing.

2:30 pm: Featured Session, Talking Writer to Writer: Rediscovering the Power of Conferring (Douglas Kaufman, Penny Kittle, and Linda Rief)

This session reaffirms the idea that the most successful writing conferences are often the most natural and the most simple. Sometimes as simple as identifying “This is what I heard/learned from your piece” and “This is what I still want to know about what you’ve written.” This all ties in to a great, prescient quote from Doug–”[Teachers] have to be a part of a small revolution where we go back to our roots and focus on learning events: learning, laughing, and listening with our students, and then acting accordingly.” Indeed, neither conferences nor teaching in general should be formulaic. Sometimes the best teaching naturally flows from our hearts and brains during true, human interactions. No list of questions can ever measure up to that. Also, Penny Kittle seems like someone I’d love to have lunch with! Book to investigate: Penny Kittle’s Write Beside Them: Risk, Voice, and Clarity in High School Writing.

4:30 pm: Speaker Chris Crutcher, author of Whale Talk, and other well-known, well-loved, often censored young adult titles

Before Chris Crutcher takes the stage, there is an announcement about the launch of the National Student Poets Program. It makes me proud of our government to hear about a national step being taken to honor the creative achievements of our young people. It sends an affirming message that, yes, we need poets; they serve a vital purpose in our society that should not be overlooked. Listening to the announcement stirred in me the feeling of wanting to do more as an ambassador for the arts. It made me wonder if I am providing enough space (mentally as well as time-wise) for my students to just create rather than working to achieve the specific skill goals I set for them… In my heart I understand the power of creativity to change lives if it’s given the chance. But I also know that our world largely revolves around performance and evaluations. Art can transcend evaluation. Something to reflect upon…

Chris Crutcher: Chris is an amazing human being, particularly when it comes to thinking, and expressing those thoughts through story. Just listening to him makes my soul reach out like an open hand–it is clear that the man was born a storyteller. I was grateful for his outspoken support for English teachers–our “experts on stories” and those who help resist “creativity being institutionally squelched.” But I was even more grateful for his persistent championing of young adults: in particular, their right to read books that reflect the truth. Chris talked about how those who attempt to keep his books (which often deal with mature or troubling topics) out of schools, calling them “those who want to put philosophy ahead of humanity and think for people they’ve never met before.” He pointed out something that I’ve always believed and fallen back on in the event of a challenge to a controversial text–”When we ban stories where a kid is abused, where a kid is hurting, where a kid strays from the path, we not only ban those stories, but we ban those kids.” A rosy world is not always a realistic world, and believing that ignorance keeps us safe removes a thousand opportunities for growth. When educators acknowledge that through books we offer and ways we teach, we say “You belong here, too” to all students.

8:00 pm: Ms. J, Mr. M, and I found a table in the hotel lobby where we could compare, debate, and clarify our selections for the next day. Despite only being able to find the “wrong” brand of cola (in my opinion), it was a cheery, cooperative, and academic way to end the day, ready for sessions first thing in the morning!

DAY TWO (Friday, 18 Nov 2011)

The second day was an absolute blur, filled with many tidbits of inspiration. Here are the short responses to each of the five sessions I attended…

9:30 am: Session A- Art and Film: Reading Visual Literacy Models (Connie Booth, Jennifer Collison, Nick Kremer)

This presentation was broken into three separate sections, one per presenter, and each was especially eye-catching to me, since my PDP and personal interests tend toward visual literacy. There were some excellent practical ideas offered here–from using classical art of corresponding historical periods along with the teaching of literature to having students use documentary/storyboarding as a vehicle for creative non-fiction writing to teaching students about some of the theory behind comics (a la Understanding Comics by Scott McCloud, a fantastic resource for anyone interested in visual literacy) so that they can more consciously use comics as a medium for storytelling, poetry analysis, or any kind of composition! This session rejuvenated my goal to incorporate opportunities for visual interpretation and authorship in my classroom, and provided me with some new outlets to do so.

11:00 am: Session B-  Literary Criticism: Tackling Texts from Multiple Angles (Daniella Bonanno, Tim Gillespie, Lisa Mitchell, Jason Parris)

Literary criticism is something I wasn’t even aware of until college, but as soon as I was introduced, I was hooked. For me, it was a sign of meaning within fictional pages, a justification for reading the written word with the passion and voracity that I was compelled by. Reading didn’t just have to be preparing for a quiz. Rather, it was a participation in important metaphysical conversations about power relationships, identity, history, justice, religion, war, and all manner of human concerns. Attending this session provided me with resources and a reminder that the literary lens approach to teaching texts helps to elicit student responses that may never have occured otherwise. It gives students a focus and a point of view that is specific to a task, and it can yield sophisticated, varying interpretations. I’m going to use the handout from this session and revisit some titles from my professional library to brush up: Literary Criticism by Charles Bressler and Critical Encounters in High School English by Deborah Appleman. Maybe the most important thing about literary lenses? Using them gives students authentic preparation for the reading experiences they are likely to encounter in college.

12:30 pm: Session C- Art, World Literature, and Human Rights: A Humanities Journey (Karen Cunningham, Kerry Galson, Nicholas Timmer)

This was my favorite session. It was one that truly spoke to things that I feel are important. The presenters were the creators of an English class where students study English/Humanitites through a reflective, demanding curriculum that highlights human rights issues, activism, creativity, and world cultures along the way. I was so grateful to receive a thick packet that outlines the course syllabus, bibliography (including articles, short films, poems, and short stories in addition to books), and handouts for major projects. I found nearly everything about this presentation fascinating and unique. Major things I was intrigued by: *A response sketchbook in which students keep annotations, notes, and writing (but also sketches, collages, and visual experiements).   *A project that asks students to truly research, comment upon, and shape their own educational experiences.   *Literature circle discussions surrounding social justice including action components related to the reading.  *A fantastic set of guiding questions for the entire year to prompt student thinking.  *Manifold opportunities for students to express and create in a focused but unconfined way. I expect to be blogging more about these ideas as I try them out in my own classroom.

2:30 pm: Session D- The Multigenre Approach to Research and Composition (Tanya Sepela and Kate Shanklin)

Mr. M and I are planning to do a multigenre approach to teaching Shakespeare this semester. How perfect, then, that we stumbled into this session after being turned away from the filled-to-capacity “Zapping Apathy” session! We walked away with some practical examples of implementing multigenre projects as a way to assess reading comprehension, extraction and application of theme, writing in different modes, research skills, and critical thinking in a way that’s fun for all. The secret ingredient seems to be choice amidst variety–students get to self-direct, leading to higher motivation and achievement. Meanwhile, teachers get to guide writing instruction at a variety of levels in a way that’s tailored to each student. Especially interesting was the implementation of endnotes and annotated bilbliography to a multigenre project. This keeps things academic and rigorous, even when students are having fun imagining journal entries, eulogies, or recipes related to their topic.

4:00 pm: Session E- The Neglected Rhetoric: Discovering and Developing Humor in Writing (Kaye and Terry Hagler)

Let’s face it: the classical literature that so many of us immerse our students in is… well… depressing, sometimes. These presenters reminded us that humor is a crucial and perhaps underutilized aspect of rhetoric that deserves to be privileged right along with tragedy. There wasn’t much new information here, but it still prompted an idea pathway regarding text selection and the goal of making reading and writing enjoyable through humor when possible and appropriate. (Personally, I feel that humor is one of the best natural things that happens during teaching when one is doing it well. A classroom without laughter won’t bond or achieve in the way that a classroom with laughter will. That’s something that remains despite new standards and new expectations.)

All in all, the convention experience was wonderful and eye-opening. Just the experience of being in the city along with so many likeminded souls was rejuvenating. My mind is baffled and my heart is humbled when I think about number of smart English teachers across the country that will be, just like me, unlocking their classroom doors tomorrow morning. There are so many of us, and so many who aspire to be great educators, who look forward to the possibilities of each day. Teachers are always becoming and building. That’s what makes this career exciting. I can’t wait to start incorporating some of the new ideas sparked by NCTE 2011. Some of that work was already starting as we busily chatted our way back northward in the big white van!

P.s. With this being my first convention on the national level, I do have to say that the annual state convention here in Wisconsin stands up very well in comparison. I highly recommend that Wisconsinite teachers check out the WCTE convention next year. I’ve gone twice, and I have learned many very eye-opening things here in our very own cheese state. :)

The Writing and Teaching Collaborative: A bite-size variation on the National Writing Project theme

Posted: 24th November 2011 by Ms. H in Educational Leadership, Reflections
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I am thankful–so thankful–for the giant compliation of amazing professional opportunities I’ve had which have allowed me to grow as an educator. One of those experiences, though, as I’ve written before, stands out among the others. That experience was my participation in the 2010 Invitational Summer Institute with the UW-Milwaukee site of the National Writing Project. It was such a powerful experience for so many reasons. Some of the notable ones: It forced me to accomplish work of a greater quantity and better quality than one would have thought possible. It inspired me to look at my classroom in new ways. It required professionalism and leadership. It was the elusive, the fantastic–meaningful professional development. I’ve stayed involved in Writing Project activities since that summer as much as possible, and I even peer pressured my colleague Ms. J into participating in the summer of 2011. As my place of employment gained its second Writing Project alum, we started (loudly) spreading the word about our experience. Our superintendent, whom we are lucky to share the same building with, caught on. She asked us if it would be possible to do “something like that” in our district. We looked at each other, looked back at her at said, “Yes.”

In order to get the ball rolling, we had to approach our principal, as well as middle school and grade school principals and curriculum director about the possiblity of using some of the district common planning time once a month to host a professional learning community. Lucky for us, administation was wonderfully supportive. We sent out an invitation to all district teachers via email. The text of that invitation, with specific names/details removed, was as follows. This, in so many words, will describe what we’re trying to do. Also, I’m hoping that it will provide a model to those who may want to do something similar:

OPEN INVITATION TO TEACHERS, from any content area or grade level, who are
interested in investigating effective practices in the teaching of writing!

Dear colleagues,

We are forming a professional
learning community that will allow teachers from many different disciplines and
experiences to come together once a month in order to work toward the goal of
improving our teaching of writing district-wide. The innovative,
teacher-centered, research-oriented approach used by the National Writing
Project serves as our model for this new district team—the SF
Writing and Teaching Collaborative (SFWTC).

WHO: Meetings will be facilitated by SFHS teachers [Ms. H]
and [Ms. J], both recent participants in National Writing
Project summer institutes. SFTWC participants will be
teachers from our district who are interested in the teaching of writing within
their discipline/grade level.

WHEN/WHERE: Administration in each building has approved the
use of Wednesday collaboration time during the second Wednesday of each month
for SFWTC meetings, as our initiative is closely aligned with our district
professional development goals. We hope to meet at an outside location, such as
the Community Room at Community Bank, as long as participants are in agreement.
Otherwise, a rotating building schedule may determine our location.

HOW: Each participant and facilitator will select an
inquiry question regarding an aspect of writing instruction. We’ll spend our
time reading, sharing ideas, gathering information, doing action research in
our classrooms, and even doing some writing of our own. The goal is to
research, develop, and eventually present our new findings about practical
classroom applications that support student success in writing.

WHY:  We believe it is important to create our own local opportunity to encourage not only our
students’ progress in writing, but also our own professional knowledge and
leadership potential. This is a place for discovery and positivity surrounding
our roles as professional educators.

Interested in participating this year? Please reply to this e-mail by October 15th with a brief message indicating your interest, and we’ll
promptly send you more details. Once we gather some names of those who are interested, we
can move forward in time for our first meeting in November! We are looking
forward to starting this new journey with you.

We sent out our invitation with a shrug and a smile. To our delight, we got a fair amount of interest, from several subject areas and grade levels. Once we had our group tentatively established, we sent out a welcome and “more information” message in preparation for the first meeting:

SFWTC Colleagues:

Thank you so much for
showing interest in joining the SF Writing and Teaching
Collaborative! For us, the experience of the Writing Project was a positive,
transformative one, and we are excited to begin a new journey of reflecting,
writing, and researching together with all of you in the same spirit! The purpose of this email is
to let you know a little more about what to expect, as well as to define some
particulars about our first collaboration.

At our first meeting (on [date, time, place] ), we
will begin to get to know one another as well as work together to define our
goals for this experience. Here’s how you can prepare for the meeting:

*Bring your writing gear! Whatever that means to you is great; it may be in the form of a
laptop or in the form of a notebook and pen or pencil. At times, we will be
using writing as a means to discover and communicate.

*Sometime before the meeting, please reflect on the following ideas.

(1) What does writing instruction currently look like for your students?

(This may be overall, or in specific scenarios.)

(2) If you could change or develop how writing looks for your students, how would it be and why? At the first meeting, we’ll use these initial
thoughts to develop individual inquiry questions. These questions will become
the core of our research, as we seek to find answers to our own individual
teaching goals.

Meeting agenda:

-Welcome/Introductory writing

-Brief overview of research model

-Discussion/development of inquiry questions

-Discuss goals for final product, plan for next meeting

Again, thanks so much for joining us. We know this is going to be a supportive and inspiring
professional community. Please feel free to contact us via email with any
follow up questions you may have. Otherwise, see you then!

Our first meeting set an excellent precedent for the year to come. We started many important conversations and, if all goes to plan, we’ll be having pertinent, powerful discussions with a powerhouse group of teacher leaders in our district. This will enable us to improve writing instruction, teacher collaboration, and curriculum continuity throughout our students’ years in school. We’re looking forward with optimism to the possiblities ahead!

Sharing the Process: a (literally) hands-on approach to the literary essay

Posted: 3rd November 2011 by Ms. H in Literature, Pedagogy, Writing
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I’ve been working a lot with my AP Literature and Composition students on their writing skills. Writing about literature has many aspects that can be troublesome for student writers. One of the most difficult parts for my students has been learning to formulate an argument about a fictional work, and–in particular–using quotes in order to further the argument that they create, instead of inserting irrelevant narrative quotes to illustrate a glorified summary. Part of this, I think, has been due to their tendency to write an essay without quotes first, before going back and trying to “plug in” a quotation here and there. When done right, quotations should be the framework of the piece, upholding and elaborating the claims of the student writer.

So how does one achieve the incorporation of quotes that are an integral part of an essay’s structure? Sometimes you’ve got to start with the quotes themselves. There are various ways to begin composing a literary essay, but I have a tried and true method that has worked for me in my own writing since the idea came to me in high school on an impulse. It’s the Ms. H Method for Planning the Ultimate Literature Essay!  I created a small comic to guide my students through this process, so that they can try it out to see if it works for them (click on the image to make it bigger):

I love this technique because it’s very visual and very hands-on. Rather than overloading the mental circuitry by trying to envision an entire paper at a single go, using the quotation slips allow the writer to manually rearrange, organize, and experiment with ideas before a word even hits the page. For me, this kind of thing really makes me feel like I know where I’m headed from the moment I write the first sentence. Also, it ensures that my use of quotations is crafted and purposeful.

Every writer’s process is different, but whenever possible I like to share mine with my students. For some, it may provide a new, helpful technique. For others, it might inspire a different approach. For everybody, it shows that I am a writer, too–an important thing for teachers of English (and all teachers, really) to share with their students. All writers struggle, and all writers create. I think when students view us as fellow strugglers/creators, they respect our feedback more, find it easier to approach us for help, and more willingly see us as collaborators in the experience of learning to write, rather than omnipotent, wrathful red pens. Sharing aspects of myself as a writer reminds me that I was once much like my students, and consequently helps me better adapt to what they need as growing analysts and philosophers.

Invisible Targets

Posted: 31st October 2011 by Ms. H in Issues in Education, Pedagogy, Reflections
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Objective-based teaching is something I’ve internalized. Students need to know the desired outcome and how to get there before we can expect them to perform. Whether we call them learning objectives, learning goals, or (now, apparently), learning targets, these roadmaps for students are a crucial part of learning.

But are they the only part? German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer wrote, “Talent hits a target no one else can hit. Genius hits a target no one else can see.” It makes me wonder a certain wondering that has been creeping around my brain for some time now…. If we make learning targets too simplistic and explicit, are we drawing students away from those invisible targets that lead to true innovative thought? Is there room in a learning target for experimentation? For discovery? I think there can be, if one writes and explains the target with care and intention. But I also think that there is more to learning than “hitting targets,” and there’s more to understanding than performing a certain skill like a circus pony pawing the air for a sugar lump. I tell my students, “You are not a parrot. Don’t just say what I say and do what I do. Show me something that is 100% you.”  It can be frustrating to attempt to nourish 21st Century skills such as creativity and adapatability while simultaneously breaking lessons down into dry, compartmentalized goals of various sizes.

This whole conundrum prompted some off the clock thinking. As teachers, we are trained to ask ourselves “What do I want my students to learn?” as a starting point when crafting objectives/goals/targets. So I sat and asked myself, “What do I *really* want my students to learn? What do I wish for them, to be able to do by the time they leave my class for the year?” I came up with the following list.

Things I Wish for My Students, for Them to Be Able to Do

Notice details.     Write outside of class, to express and discover.     Extract thematic ideas from texts–ideas that are unique and insightful.     Observe life and share realizations about it.     Stand up straight and speak out.

Bring things in to class that relate to what we’re learning.     Revise–truly revise–their own writing with a ruthless pen in search of perfection.     Use language that is fluent, beautiful, and complex.

See education for the true opportunity that it is.     Become comfortable with quiet and solitude.     Search for truth.     Be able to adapt to an ever-changing world.     Think with fierce independence.

Know what CREATIVE is/be it.     Get past the “right” answer.     Put their energy to use.     Tell stories.     Ackowledge the beauty, genius, and talent in one another.     Fight for the changes they want to see in the world.

Believe in their own power.     Overachieve.     Push themselves.

Know, as Tolkien did, that not all who wander are lost.

All of this is my target, really. This, and a whole expansive field teeming with invisible ones. I just hope that I manage to express this to my students, alongside the daily learning targets we shoot for together.    

Sophomores and the Amazing Technicolor Literary Analysis

Posted: 27th October 2011 by Ms. H in Literature, Poetry, Resources for Educators, Writing
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Writing in a fluent, thoughful way is such a crucial thing to teach students. Teaching writing is my favorite thing to do as a teacher–I just love watching students work through their own ideas, seeing them put an assertion down on paper that is theirs and theirs alone. Literary analysis is one form of writing that I focus on with my sophomores in particular, as they realize the potential of fiction and poetry to state underlying truths through symbolism and figurative language. It is an awesome thing, but that does not mean it’s an easy thing. Weeks need to be spent building scaffolding that helps students learn to interpret, extract themes, and form opinions about texts on their own. All along the way, I have them continually write short analyses. Of course, my expectations for the very first one are extra simple (the student went beyond mere summary and used some type of textual evidence–great!), and continue to become more extensive as time goes on (for their final assignment, they are expected to do a double analysis and comparison piece on a classical poem and lyrics from a contemporary song, and are expected to have developed insights as well as the ability to explicate examples of figurative language and the rhetorical effects upon the reader… Whew!). On the earlier assignments, I give students a lot of descriptive feedback to help them learn which steps of this new thinking task they need to develop.

There’s just a couple problems with feedback, though–   A. Sometimes, students merely gloss over it and/or don’t understand it.    B. It. Takes. FOREVER! I have four classes of sophomores. That’s a lot of essays. If I take just five minutes (which I’ve learned is fairly impossible) on each student’s assignment, it still amounts to a total  of seven and a half HOURS to give feedback on a single paper. While I’m willing to devote that time at the outset, when students are still floundering around in a sea of new expectations, I just can’t sacrifice that type of time once my students start gaining independence in their knowledge of how to analyze. At that point, it becomes their job as well to keep track of how they are progressing toward mastery. So how do I make sure I’m giving adequate formative assessment, my students know what they need to do to reach their learning objectives, and I don’t need to be committed to an insane asylum after days and days of reading beginner literary analyses? The answer is colors!

I got this fantastic idea from a very wise co-worker of mine, Ms. J. Last year during this unit, she created a step-by-step chart that asked students to outline various required features of an essay using specific colors to indicate specific things. I modified it slightly to fit a new assignment, and turned it into a PowerPoint that I had my students follow step by step. (You can see/download that very PowerPoint by clicking [here].) This activity–essentially a self-evalutation workshop–is wonderful for many reasons, which I’ll here expound:

-This kind of thing is deceptively fun. Once colored pencils/markers are involved, happy kindergarten memories come back and students feel at ease rather than intimidated by the complicated thinking they’re being asked to do. Also, they actually take deliberate time to search for each element so that they can color as much as possible.

-Colors make things as clear as day. Ask a student “Did you identify any literary devices?” and they may say, “Uhhhhhhhh….” However, after they’ve been given time to look for and color code the spots where they’ve identified literary devices, it’s easy to ask and definitively answer, ”Do you have any green on that paper? Where? How much?”

-At a glance, students can see how different elements of writing, such as context, a thesis statement, and textual evidence go together. It’s no longer a big glom of words on the page–it’s a transparent, intentional thought process on paper. Also, when it comes time for grading, the teacher can also see instantaneously if the patterns are looking good or not so good. Grading of each paper has been reduced to half a minute rather than five-ten minutes.

-Students are assessing themselves. They are looking at each individual requirement/expectation/goal that pertains to the task and are asking themselves “Did I reach this goal? If so, where? If not, what do I need to do to get there?” I required a short written reflection along with this activity–it sets up self-reflection perfectly.

-Colors are not for analysis writing alone. Just match up each category of your rubric with its own color and shazam! You’ve got an activity that is engaging, useful for formative assessment/self-assessment, makes kids think, saves you time, and makes the world a little more colorful. What’s not to love?

It’s continually astonishing to me how the power of visual elements in teaching can spur excellent thinking, reading, and writing. Try out this method in your own classroom, and post how it goes over. Also, if you can think of any additional modifications, please share them as well! (P.s. Write yourself a Post-It right now to add colored pencils to next year’s required supply list.)

Church and State: Teaching students to discuss religion in an academic context

Posted: 29th September 2011 by Ms. H in Classroom Management, Issues in Education, Resources for Educators
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As part of my syllabus for AP Literature and Composition, I am teaching The Divine Comedy (otherwise affectionately known as Dante’s Inferno). It’s an amazing work of literature, widely considered to be one of the major literary works of all time. It provides a veritable playground of imagery, figurative language, allusion, and tone for my literature students to analyze, and gives them experience grappling with interpreting a difficult text. It’s definitely AP material. However, as my unit approached, I wondered about the entrenchment of this text within the Catholic, Christian tradition.  I mean, let’s face it–this piece creates a layout of  hell (as imagined by Dante, informed by his religious beliefs) that straight out condemns certain people and behavior based upon very religiously saturated reasons and examples. The entire piece, down to its terza rima structure, is reflective of a Christian worldview. As I began to envision our classroom discussions, I wondered about my students’ ability to talk about religion in the context of literature. Would they be able to delve into ideas about the novel without turning the class into a “whose religion is right?” type of fiasco? Would they become confused and think that I was teaching The Inferno as a sacred text? I didn’t want to shy away from discussing the text, I wanted to have quality discussions that included religion, and I wanted to address my students’ lack of experience in this department. (My situation is also exacerbated by the fact that my students come from a small town where religious diversity is largely overlooked or even feared. They are, generally speaking, uncomfortable talking about difference in religious beliefs, even between Christian denominations.)
With all that in mind, I dedicated a portion of one of my introductory lessons to talking about how religion plays a part in academia, particularly in the humanities. A part of this was instruction on how to participate in an academic discussion where religion features prominently.  I created the following list to help manage our discussions, and my students have responded well so far.
STUDENT DISCUSSION GUIDE
Things to adhere to when discussing religion in an academic context:

žBring your beliefs, but treat their discussion as an intellectual exercise. Detach from extreme spiritual passion in this context.

žExhibit tolerance, respect, and curiosity regarding the beliefs of others.

žRefer to a religious belief/worldview as a belief, worldview, tradition, cultural stance, etc., rather than The Truth. (It may be YOUR truth, but it may not be the truth for others.)

žDo not openly react to a belief-oriented comment which offends you.

žDo not try to convert others to your point of view, or condemn your classmates.

žSeek commonalities between traditions.

žDescribe cultural impact of religious traditions.

žBe able to have discussions on ethics/morality that stand upon foundations other than that of religious tenets.

A public school classroom is the State, and not the Church, without a doubt. However, as I tell my students, intelligent people understand that these two entities profoundly impact one another in an interdependent way. Religion is powerful, and to shy away from discussing it is to water down our understanding of the world, of culture, of ourselves. Students bring their beliefs to class every day. While we don’t, as public school teachers, teach in terms of faith, we do owe it to our students to allow this part of their culture to be recognized as a part of who they are. Discussing religious themes (whether Judeo-Christian, Buddhist, Muslim, Hindu, or agnostic in nature) can be sticky, but when done appropriately it provides a deep look into human nature and motivation that, in my opinion, composes much of what literature, humanity, and truth is all about.

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