My First Teaching Assignment

Reflections About Self:

My First Teaching Assignment

This reflection is focused mainly on my first Language Arts teaching assignment at North High School in Minneapolis. North High, which had previously been declared a failed school, was actually two schools: the new, North Communication, Arts and Science school which had just recently opened, and the North Senior Academy (NSA) where I taught, which was two years away from closing.

At the time, NSA had an essentially 100% African American student population of about 200 11th and 12th grade learners. My duties included teaching sections of junior and senior English, 12th grade IB English and, for one semester, co-teaching an online AP course in Rhetoric and Analysis.

Though NSA’s population was nearly all students of color -- and who all qualified for federal Free and Reduced Lunch programs -- its students were diverse in many other ways. There was a strong and relatively large LGBTQ group. There were several students with families from Somalia and other African countries, and some with families that had a Southeast Asian background. Also, students at the closing school had a wide variety of reasons for attending NSA -- as well as many different academic needs, challenges and goals. Of the approximately 120 seniors, only about 80 were on-track to actually graduate. North Senior Academy was not officially an “alternative” school – but, due to a tortured set of past events and circumstances, that is practically what it was: a place of last resort for students not welcomed at other schools.

Reflecting back on NSA as a career choice for my first teaching assignment, I see that it was ill-considered. The job was extremely difficult. Beyond the solo creation of a curriculum from the ground up, there was contending with the administrative and structural issues of NSA’s unique environment. It was also challenging to what Parker J. Palmer refers to as my “teacher’s heart.” The experience was, however, rewarding in my personal mission as an urban educator and offered rich opportunities for professional observation, reflection and growth.

Guided by questions prompted from selected readings -- and looking back on three experiences at NSA, I ponder the following: what is my teaching philosophy and teaching style, how has it  changed, and what now stands out as real and true to me when reflecting on my identity and integrity as an African American urban educator?

I. Welcome to the Zoo

Author & Cited Issue:

Reflective Teaching

Kenneth M. Zeichner & Daniel P. Liston

“Here we want to underscore that teachers’ understandings, their developed frameworks and practical theories, are often expressed as images and metaphors and through narratives. “

“Researchers . . . maintain that metaphors appear in the natural language of teachers as they talk about their teaching.”

Belief/ Understanding/ Expectations:

I have taught various theater and dance classes for over 20 years, and upon entering my first high school English teaching assignment, my philosophy was “Everyone can learn.” Everyone is able to, everyone is allowed to, and everyone will learn. As an educator, my core belief then and now is – as researcher Richard Stiggins put it – “Students can hit any target they can see that holds still for them.” I viewed my teaching role as an academic facilitator and guide.

NSA Experience:

I began my time at NSA in the middle of the school year as a long-term substitute – after the school’s former English teacher was dismissed and after his replacement quit. My experience confirms that teachers casually use metaphors when they speak of teaching. I will never forget an event that happened in my first few weeks at NSA while eating lunch in the teacher break room. A teacher was loudly complaining about his students' behavior and directly compared the teenagers to animals in a zoo. I was deeply offended by the metaphor being used and the easy laughter it provoked in the other staff members present. While NSA’s students were all African-American, none of the teaching staff was Black – until my sub position became a full-year teaching contract there. The teacher’s metaphor disturbed me due to the cultural context – but also because, as Zeichner and Liston state, teachers’ metaphors and framings “guide and inform teachers’ actions.”

Reality Check/ Thoughts:

Confronting many, many personally disturbing and culturally uncomfortable situations in the first few months of my job – involving both students and other staff – I quickly realized that much of my work would include dealing with social and cultural issues as well as academic ones. In terms of a teacher image, I would borrow a metaphor often used for novels: teachers as mirrors and windows. Coming from the philosophy that all of my students can learn and will learn, my job then, is to frame the content for them – make it interesting, assessable, relevant and relatable. The teacher acts, at times, as a window through which students can see new things about the world, and at times, the teacher is a mirror in which students can better see themselves.  In this sense, my metaphor of teaching now includes both the image of an academic guide as well as that of a social role model.

II. Tested by the System

Author & Cited Issue:

Practice Makes Practice (Chapter 6)

Deborah P. Britzman

“No teaching identity is ever singular or without contradictions; the teacher's identity expresses a cacophony of calls. The cultural myths examined  . . . contain such contradictions; they beckon and repel, promote and dispute, particular meanings about the work and the identity of the teacher.”

“The three myths examined: . . . everything depends upon the teacher; the teacher is the expert; and teachers are self-made.”

Belief/ Understanding/ Expectations:

Motivation was a central issue for my urban classroom. My understanding is that in order to motivate students, the teacher must find projects that are both meaningful and doable. In other words, the academic goals must seem to the students to be relevant as well as attainable.

NSA Experience:

My mid-year teacher performance review was a disappointing and debilitating experience.  The lesson being observed was a session where students were presenting a blog entry designed to provide basic background information about a specific African American author. Students were given a choice of authors, and a simple template of research questions and blog requirements. While one student was presenting the information on his/her web page, the other students were taking notes and were encouraged to offer comments and questions. The rubric for this project included both the blog and the student presentation. Each presentation took 10-15 minutes and plenty of time was afforded for discussion.

I thought the project was a success and that the observation went very well. However, I received low marks from my district observer.

During the discussion, one male student used the “N-word” in reference to a classmate. The observer was highly critical and said that, since I did not discipline the student, it indicated that my classroom was not under control. She gave me low marks in the area of “creates a safe learning environment.” Also, for one thing, the students were well aware of my classroom expectations and my intense personal feelings about the use of that word. It had been the focus of countless class discussions – because when I first arrived at the school, students were openly using racial slurs and curse words. It was actually a problem that I was happy we had largely solved.

For the particular student involved, use of the ”N-word” was a constant. It was a reflection of the way he normally spoke, and while he didn’t always refrain from using it, he certainly knew it was against my classroom policy and expectations. Not to excuse away his infraction -- or my failure to discipline him -- but the student was actually using the word in a friendly manner (though that is impossible to explain out of the proper cultural context). When confronted during the observation meeting about the “N-word” use, I could barely even recall the incident. I was so pleased that there had been a robust class discussion that, at the moment the student said it, although I heard it – in the context of class involvement, it did not register as something that I needed to stop class for.

I was also given low marks in the area of “establishes high cognitive expectations.” The district observer apparently felt that my project was not sufficiently rigorous for high school seniors.

My thinking was that the presentation forum allowed for general class discussion and active reflection on important African American authors. Along with providing literary background information, I also considered the Author Bio Blog writing assignment to be practice with a note-gathering strategy for research paper pre-writing.

Though perhaps simple, the project was embraced by my classes and most students completed the assignment – which was unusual at NSA. The students seemed to enjoy becoming “experts” on their authors and many took ownership of the subject matter as well as their blog design. Some of the discussions were a bit rowdy – but students were involved and not sleeping or looking at their iPhones. So in terms of engagement and motivation, the assignment was a success.

Reality Check/ Thoughts:

Although my observer failed to appreciate my lesson, it was guided, in part, by my desire to refute two of the cultural myths identified by Britzman: “everything depends upon the teacher” and “the teacher is the expert.” Students picked their own author, designed their own blog and then became teachers as they shared their research. The pressure to present work in front of the entire class made it more difficult for students to simply forgo the assignment. The third myth mentioned by Britzman – “teachers are self-made” -- is also relevant to my observation experience. I was an English Department of one. There was no program or curriculum in place, no guidance and little support. I did my level best to create a rich, rewarding curriculum. At the top of the school year, I was also careful to have composed a 20-page document detailing my teaching plans with specific notation on content, goals, standards, assignments and assessments. If my lesson plans were inappropriate, the administration had plenty of time to request modifications – and yet, the mid-year review was the first time anybody had ever questioned my curriculum or learning strategies.

III. The Color of Authority

Author & Cited Issue:

Teacher Reflection and Race in Cultural Contexts

H. Richard Milner

“How might my students’ (and co-workers’) racial experiences influence their work with me as the teacher?”

Belief/ Understanding/ Expectations:

Current research on culturally responsive teaching has determined that learning is maximized when students are given learning targets and rubrics prior to teaching, and when they have been explicitly instructed on setting personal learning goals. An assessment plan must include quality formative assessments – tied to learning targets and standards – making summative assessments an opportunity for student success. Course grades are not rewards and punishments to be meted out by the teacher.

NSA Experience:

Near the end of my first school year, I encountered an experience with a chief administrator that caused me to lose heart. There was a male senior – hereafter referred to as “Bob” -- who was popular in the school and a star on the school’s football team. Based on his sports abilities, he had been offered a scholarship to a college – however, Bob was not on track to graduate. He had completed almost no work in English and was set to fail my class as well as another required course.  The student was antagonistic and openly hostile toward me, and despite my best efforts, we had not been able to build any sort of a positive relationship. Bob was disrespectful and disruptive, and routinely skipped my class.

In the final weeks of school, while meeting with Bob about his grade, he informed me – dared me, really -- that I could not fail him. He threatened that he would go above my head. I dismissed the threat until a few days later when I was approached by an administrator who asked about Bob’s failing grade. I was a caught completely off-guard when, after I explained the student’s failure to complete required assignments, the administrator more or less told me to change the “F” to a passing grade. The conversation ended with the administrator, who was himself a Black man, saying, “You know, we have to look out for our African American males.”

I was truly stunned. My first thought was – I am an African American male! What about my integrity as an educator? Secondly, are we really doing Bob a favor by falsely giving him credit for work he was more than capable of doing but refused to do? How is that setting him up for success or looking out for him?

In the end, I gave the student a grade of “Incomplete” which apparently was changed to “D” by the administrator.

Reality Check/ Thoughts:

Racial issues came into play in strange ways here – since all parties involved were Black males. Basically,  I was placed in the position of changing a student’s grade based, not on his work, but rather, on the color of his skin.

To be an effective urban educator my assessments must create a detailed, valid, reliable and transparent record of learning -- and teaching -- because assessments are a check on systemic integrity. Stiggins points out seven criteria for testing, saying assessments must be appropriate to learning outcomes, tied to specific teaching, varied, culturally responsive, differentiated, non-bias and defensible.

In Conclusion

Despite my first year challenges, I maintained and strengthened my identity and integrity as an educator. Though my ideas on classroom management have grown and been altered, my basic teaching philosophy has not changed. I still believe my core teacher metaphor of mirrors and windows holds. Palmer noted, "we teach who we are," and he goes on to say that teaching itself is a mirror:

The entanglements I experience in the classroom are often no more or less than the convolutions of my inner life. Viewed from this angle, teaching holds a mirror to the soul. If I am willing to look in that mirror, and not run from what I see, I have a chance to gain self-knowledge—and knowing myself is as crucial to good teaching as knowing my students and my subject.