INTASC Standard #9
The teacher intern is a reflective practitioner who continually evaluates the effects of his or her choices and actions on others (students, parents, and other professionals in the learning community) and who actively seeks out opportunities to grow professionally.
NCTE Standard 3.2.2
I wrote a paper describing metaphors I came up with for teaching. This paper was all about reflection on teaching and what a teacher represents.
As an English teacher, I am a lighthouse. I have to remain a strong, solid guide for students who look up to me. With my light I help guide the boats, which represent my students. I steer them away from the danger of crashing into the rocks; and I keep them on the path to their intended destination. Like the boats, each student’s destination may be different, but I keep them from the danger of failing. Some will strive for an A grade; some will strive for a passing grade. I won’t know where each student will end up, but while they are my students, I have to be a solid guide for them. I withstand many stresses in my job: parents, principals, testing, etc… just as a lighthouse weathers the storm. Even though students and parents, like visitors to a lighthouse, may climb up and see the view from the top once in awhile with conferences; I am always there. They don’t know the feeling I have on a day to day basis of being that sturdy figure for all. I’m supposed to “have it together” constantly. They come to see the view on a pretty day—not during a storm. When a parent walks through our classroom door we put on a smile and pretend the hurricane of papers all over our desk are “organized” and that everything is peachy. Teachers are scrutinized in our society, and often blamed for everything. I am in a fishbowl where everyone sees me; I am the lighthouse, which is a clearly visible landmark.
I must possess sufficient energy every day, as a lighthouse’s light is always on. A teacher, if nothing else, is a guide and mentor—someone students can come to with issues they’re facing. If my energy is down, I won’t be able to give proper direction. A teacher once told me, “Actual teaching is twenty percent of the job… the rest is dealing with people.” I’m involved in the students’ lives. I will hear about their worries and fears; and I will hear the sometimes harsh realities of their home lives. I may be the only person a student can turn to, and that’s a lot of pressure.
Boats can’t see in the dark without my light—I am their very livelihood. Without that light, boats smash and sink, just as students can’t succeed without their teacher’s interest and energy. In English class especially, the teacher is crucial. Students can’t fill in bubbles and get the correct answer like a math worksheet. I have to guide them through their journey through books and writing as they discover new things about themselves. If I guide them properly, they will become more reflective about how they write and present themselves on paper—which can translate into real life.
Students should be exposed to different genres, styles, and authors, so they can adequately articulate what they like and don’t like. Reading and writing are the shoes, which they are trying on for size. Students need to “try on” different poems, authors, writing styles, and novels. As any shoe fanatic knows, the shoes transform the wearer into whoever they want to be. A cold day in bed reading Hemingway could be trying on a gray sneaker. The high heel empowers the person- perhaps a hopeful author marching her manuscript into a publisher’s office.
Different genres can make us feel powerful or self-conscious—and the wrong fit will make or break the student’s overall impression of English class. If a student wants to read things about sports because he’s interested in that, and we give him Romeo & Juliet, he will be uncomfortable. It’s like we put a size four stiletto on a size six person who prefers flats. If the reading material is a bad fit over and over for this student, they will start hating English class. I want the students to have options to try on every kind of shoe. Students relate to different authors and subjects, so it’s important to keep their interest by allowing them to read and write in a variety of ways. The student is responsible for recognizing what gets inside of them, what makes them inspired. After reading a novel, analyzing characters, seeing relationships, and how events connect, etc... they can apply it to their own lives. They’re better at making connections, thinking more deeply, and are aware of their surroundings. Once they’re aware of their tastes, they can easily find their comfort zone time and time again. They won’t reach for that open-toed white sandal during the wintertime; they won’t wear a snow boot in the summer.
On the other hand, sometimes comfort zones are not good for development. Once the students are secure in their reading and writing, we have to make them try new things. As a teacher, I want the student to pick the fun shoe. I want them to choose to write in the style of the red glittery heel, rather than writing in the style of the beat up flip-flop. I want their peers and parents to take notice of their writing. I want it to stand out, as the red glittery heel does.
As a teacher, I should also know the students well enough, through their journal entries and personal reflections, that at the end of the year I could buy a pair of shoes for every student and be confident they will fit their personality. I should know which student would like the purple sneaker with the green Nike swoosh, and which would like to go barefoot.
Teaching is a snorkeling adventure. A teacher gets a glimpse into students’ lives and visits for a year- but doesn’t live with them forever, just as a snorkeler visits the underwater creatures’ home only for a short period. The underwater landscape is somewhat mysterious, as students can be. A timid snorkeler isn’t going to get much out of their adventure, as a teacher won’t relate to students without trying. I can stay on the surface and view the creatures from a distance, or I can hold my breath, dive down, and see things up close. Therefore, life vests are not for teaching. If you take it off you can go deeper.
When you’re snorkeling, you can swim fast and admire things, but you’re not seeing all there is to see. If you float and hover, rather than swim, you will see twice as much. The fast snorkeler will see fish, fish, fish, (check behind them for sharks), coral, sand, and done. The snorkeler who takes their time will see the big fish, the little fish hiding in the sea grass, the crab scurrying across the brain coral, and be the one to point out to other snorkelers all they’re missing. Glossing over the area, like glossing over the “get to know your students” part, will put you at a loss. If you stop and look around, all the students are worth looking at and you might be amazed at what you find.
With respect to reading: cramming with Sparknotes isn’t half as satisfying as reading and finishing a novel… Similarly, a glass bottom boat tour isn’t the way to see the bottom of the ocean. I need to go into the water.
The classroom is a scrapbook. If I were to make a scrapbook of my classroom, I’d want to see the snapshots of students, their moods, their growth, and their work. The class should be colorful enough to make a scrapbook. Assignments should be creative enough (like the multi-genre paper) to post into the book without viewers wondering why it’s in there. An essay on Charles Dickens? No, that wouldn’t be a vivid depiction of my students themselves. Assignments and smiles should be authentic. The photos should be candid, taken in the classroom when students aren’t aware, and the photos should reflect an overall positive mood. The classroom should be purpose driven so that the scrapbook is pleasing to look at when the year is over. I’d want to be proud of that year and remember it fondly. The classroom should have an atmosphere and the material relatable to students’ lives so that each would want a copy of the scrapbook because they feel connected to the class. Each student has a place in the book and should contribute to class. This way, I won’t look at the scrapbook later and say, “Who’s that kid?” The environment of the class affects students’ perception of the reading and writing, so in order to learn, they need to feel like they belong and they have a place in that scrapbook.