Student Teaching #1

               This semester started off with a bang, and an alarm clock that goes off way too early in the morning.  Since the 2^nd of January I have been getting up and going to work at a place that I am passionate about and learning to teach in the process.  I honestly figured I was in pretty good shape.  I read the material last semester and I spent every waking moment planning for this one.  My CT and I decided that we would co-teach for the first couple of weeks.  Then, as with everything in life, we had to change our plans.  There were the days students were out of class for assemblies and the day they were gone for the career pipeline.  Things happen, and unfortunately my students do have other classes, not to mention a life outside of school.  That being said I have been dealing with the interruptions and adapted my plans accordingly.  My CT and I spend almost the entire day together and every afternoon, during 5^th block, we reflect on my teaching together.  We look at where we were so we can figure out where we are going.  The “theme” here is intentional teaching. 

                Sure, we have all heard the phrase “intentional teaching” thrown around in our classes and in our college texts.  But, does anyone really know how to apply a theory right out of the gate?  I thought I did.  I could have expounded upon the virtues of intentional teaching, multiple intelligences, and student lead learning.  However, until you really put this into practice you have no idea how to do it.  I didn’t.   That being said, the last few weeks have been interesting.

                Earlier this week I had the pleasure of beginning to teach The Great Gatsby, one of my favorite books.  The lesson didn’t go well.  If you’re curious read my blog post from Monday.  My CT and I talked about what happened.  I had planned this for months, but I went in thinking I knew Gatsby.  While I do know the novel extremely well;  It is one of my favorite pieces of American fiction.  That being said, while I know Gatsby, I didn’t know how to teach Gatsby.  It really isn’t that hard to understand now.  I tried to stop every paragraph or so and point out everything, every little detail that makes Gatsby great.  My love for the novel got in the way.

                So what is the fix for this?  It’s easy, really, intentional teaching, patience, and trusting your kids.  I know Gatsby and I knew what I wanted to say, but I needed to be patient, let the novel unfold naturally.  You can’t force this type of thing.  And finally, trust that your kids are smarter than anyone, even their parents, gives them credit for.  I went back to my plans and my scripts and looked at where I was, where I had been (that was painful since I have a recording of it), and where I needed to go.  I looked back at my novel and used sticky notes to force me to stop and then let go.

                So to the brass tacks, I went through the rest of chapter 1 and every three pages or so, there is no hard and fast rule here, I looked for natural breaks in the narrative.  I put post it notes there.  I went through my script and divided it to match my post its.  So during teaching today I let go and let the kids read and explore the novel.  I stopped them every post it note and went back and pointed out the major characters, points that needed pointing out, symbol’s, misogynistic racist jerks, the important things.  And it went beautifully. 

               I have said before that as English majors we have seen hundreds of novels taught over the years.  We should know how to “do this” like nothing else.  I was wrong.  I’m not afraid to admit it, but I would be afraid to go back to the way I thought we should teach a novel last Monday morning.  It’s a process, student teaching.  Teach, learn, adapt, and be truly intentional.     

"The Man Who Gives His Name to this Book"

I’m not even sure that I can comprehend how badly today went.  I didn’t have any problems with behavior; I didn’t have any wardrobe malfunctions or anything else of the sort.  I had a really bad case of the brain farts.  There I said it.  I couldn’t remember anything that I needed to.  That being said, I am prone to that and prepare accordingly.  I script a lot of things I do in the classroom just to keep myself on track.  Questions I want to ask, answers to those questions, things of that nature.  I even have the time that class ends at the top of my notes so I can keep an eye on it.  But today, you just can’t fix stupid. 

I have read The Great Gatsby close to ten times.  I know the book in and out.  Heck I have partied with Tom, drank Gatsby’s liquor, and bought a car from George.  And then I tried to teach it.  I went through the great American novel speech.  I pointed out how the plot follows the standard linear plot format they all learned about in middle school, and gave them a quick refresher.  We talked about how no-one likes a speech from their father and how unreliable politicians, and narrators, can be.  And then it went the way of the stock market in 1929.  “Only Gatsby, the man who gives his name to this book” would understand.  And that is precisely the point at which I lost it in the novel.  On the second page, to be exact, while trying to point out that our unreliable narrator was telling us he was going to be unreliable because he was telling us that his tale is a work of fiction, I said “What do we know about books?”  The students stared, unsure whether to raise their hand or laugh uncontrollably.  My CT in the back of the room knows where I am trying to go but he just smirks.  I am on my own and there is no stopping this runaway Duisenberg now.   I restate my question and one kid raises her hand, the girl who always wants me to bring her pop-tarts, and says “they tell us stories.”  I reply in the affirmative and quickly move on.  I am now so flustered that I gloss over the point of our unreliable narrator giving us the end of the story at the beginning of the book and move on to page 3 and tradition.  Oh it’s no better over here.  We discover the narrator’s last name but it might as well be etched in stone for me.  As I gloss over this tidbit of information I move on to where “we have a tradition” staring me in the face.  I can’t even formulate simple phrases now.  I must look like a deer in the headlights and I ask “what do we “know” about tradition?”  Again nothing from the students whom now, I believe, have come to understand the gravity of the situation and just watch the run-away train slam into the end of the period bell.  The girl that always wants me to bring her pop- tarts, silently gives me one of hers and walks out of the classroom.

In all seriousness this is how I felt today went with my juniors.  My AP class is going great guns and we had an awesome Shared Inquiry Discussion over the two chapters of Beloved they read over the weekend.  My CT and I discussed what happened with Gatsby and ways to prevent it from happening again.  He takes great notes and I was recording today’s lesson and was able to reflect, a little, it really is painful to watch.  We laughed and decided that I was trying to stop too often and point things out a little at the time.  I told him that I didn’t want to go over their heads and so I was trying to pull back a little and not overwhelm them.  He assured me that if they got overwhelmed they would tell me and that they would “get it” just like the seniors do.  He assured me that everyone has “those days” and that all in all I was doing a fine job, all I need to do is make a few adjustments.  I will and have made adjustments to my lesson tomorrow, I just hope Fitzgerald didn’t turn over in his grave.