Literacy Links

Adult Learner Persistence

A Teacher’s Reflection on The Courage to Teach

by Linda Ross
Introduction by Harriet Vardiman Smith

Introduction
Teacher Linda Ross wrote the following personal reflection on the book, The Courage to Teach: Exploring the Inner Landscape of a Teacher’s Life (Palmer, 1998) as part of an online book discussion for teachers participating in the Adult Education Credential Project. Ross’s reflection is included in this issue of Literacy Links because her words speak eloquently about not only the struggle of immigrant adults to learn, but also a teacher’s struggle to understand her own motivations and attitudes.

In The Courage to Teach (available on loan from TCALL’s Clearinghouse Library), Parker writes of how teachers choose their vocation because they care deeply about their students and about their subject. But the demands of teaching can cause educators to lose heart. Palmer takes teachers on an inner journey to reconnect with their vocation and their students. In the book’s introduction, he writes, “This book is for teachers who have good days and bad -- and whose bad days bring the suffering that comes only from something one loves. It is for teachers who refuse to harden their hearts, because they love learners, learning, and the teaching life.”

Reflection: January 12, 2006
When I first started teaching ESL students, I had some classes that I actually dreaded to go to. Trying to teach many of the students was exhausting and demoralizing. Sometimes, I thought I would just give up. I don’t know why, but every time I had those thoughts I tried harder to overcome them, and the terrible feelings of frustration and anguish that accompanied them I knew there were two forces at work there: my high standards, for one. The other was anger. Anger toward the governments that run the countries these students come from - governments that don’t give a hoot about their citizens. Most of these students had no education, no social skills, no critical thinking skills, and many seemed locked away in darkness of the mind. I thought what a waste of human potential. Many wanted (and want) to learn, but they seemed to be at a point of no return.

I am still teaching. My students are from the same countries where governments don’t care about their citizens. Yet, I do not feel the anger I felt earlier. When I felt inadequate, I felt anger at myself. When I viewed them as inadequate, I felt anger toward them. Now I understand what Palmer refers to as the conflict within ourselves - the tensions between our external response to classroom events and our internal sense of incompetence. I was not showing any capacity for connectedness. Do you blame a blind person for being blind? Am I so unforgiving of myself that I cannot give an ounce of slack to others?

I am learning to “lighten up.” I have to work hard at freeing myself of frustration when students don’t get it. If they don’t get it, then it is up to me to find a way to help them get it. I am learning that teaching them requires starting with the concrete, beginning small and involving them. I can sense whether or not they are involved. If they are not, then I must change the course of the lesson. I like to feel tuned in to my students, and that frees me to be a facilitator of their learning. I tell them: I will teach you how to learn, so you can learn by yourself when you are not in class. I give the example of how to end hunger: If I feed a man, he will have one meal. But, if I give him a fishing rod, he can have many meals, but only if he goes fishing. Students understand that. They get it.

Palmer exhorts in his premise that good teaching cannot be reduced to technique; that good teaching comes from the identity and integrity of the teacher. He says that our ability to connect with our students depends less on the methods we use than on the degree to which we know and trust our selfhood and are willing to make it available and vulnerable in the service of learning. I am of the species of teacher that believes, particularly for the population of students that are mine (but not limited to), students come first, even if it should mean that the subject gets short- changed. They are so terribly self-conscious. When they come to the front of the room to present they fidget, they do not know what to do with their hands, they twist themselves, they cannot stand still. It’s very revealing. But I understand. Yet, the subject doesn’t get short-changed, because they leave the classroom feeling good about themselves. They need to feel good about themselves. Intellectual learning will follow.

I am learning to see through a glass darkly, and I en-joy my students very much. I feel that they are a gift, teaching me what it is to be human. Yet, it is they who are appreciative. That has to be connectedness.

“Though the future may at times seem bleak, we can shape it with our actions: the best way to predict the future is to create it.”

Reflection: January 26, 2006: The Truth According To Palmer
In the preceding chapters of The Courage to Teach, Palmer explores the inner realm of identity and integrity. He recognizes that this is not an easy path; however, he appeals to teachers to embark upon this path, to truly get to know ourselves. He urges the reader to prepare the “inner grounding” that will allow us to embrace rather than avoid our fears, to accept our vulnerabilities as opportunities rather than as frustrations, to connect with our inner teacher and make communion with ourselves. From this sense of wholeness community with others grows, and it will naturally extend outward to the classroom.

Thus prepared, the inner teacher looks outward to commune with the teaching/learning community, which itself must be transformed. The current norm of teaching puts the teacher at the center of knowing, the expert who delivers “truth” to the (passive) students in the form of propositions and facts. Palmer proposes a community of teaching where knowledge is advanced rather than hindered, in a public arena open to all who willingly enter the conversation. Palmer believes that “truth flows from the passionate and disciplined process of inquiry and dialogue in a dance of dynamic conversation” in which old conclusions are continually tested and new ones arrived at.

In this ideal teaching environment, truth is an eternal conversation in which creative conflict is welcome and ambiguity is embraced. In educational communities, students are encouraged to explore multifaceted truths in communion with other students, guided by their teacher.

The “subject-centered classroom” (“teaching from the microcosm”) is at the heart of the community of truth. Here students are assured educational “space” to discover and interpret the connectedness of the parts of a subject to its whole. In this learning community, teacher and students together are focused on a subject. The subject is at the center of attention. Here teachers provide students with the stimulus for learning, and they cooperatively explore the “manifold mysteries of great things” (the subjects). Consider a lesson in plant biology where students are studying the structure of a plant by investigating one part at a time. In the process, they begin to discover the nature of the entire plant. Thus equipped, students enter into a learning community of truth with a diverse group of classmates to discuss their various observations and findings, test their hypotheses, debate their assumptions and misconceptions, as they develop an appreciation for the connectedness of the various parts to the whole. Diversity in the community is an essential element in the process because “diverse viewpoints are demanded by the manifold mysteries of great things.” In this process, the teacher serves as a metaphorical sheepdog, keeping the flock from straying and protecting it from predators.

Compare this learning environment to the traditional classroom where students are lulled into a “coma” like condition from hours of listening to lectures or other mind-numbing activities. Provide them, instead, with the subject matter to be considered, the parameters of study, thought-provoking questions to be answered or problems to be solved or resolved, and a safe space to pool their information and conduct a dynamic exchange of communication, permitting students to discover the truth about subjects. Students are rewarded twofold: in their gain of knowledge, and in their realization that learning is self-directed.

As teachers, we cannot presume to be the givers of all knowledge to our students, in part because education is a process, not an event. While the constraints of time and curriculum preclude us from even trying, such notions are presumptuous and arrogant, robbing students of opportunities to develop critical thinking skills, and their imaginations. Teachers and students must have an unspoken agreement to share in the equation of learning. I question why this form of teaching is the exception rather than norm. How is it possible that 6,000 high school students in California failed their exit exams?

I am a new teacher, relatively speaking, who identifies with Palmer’s view of teaching as a necessary element of education. My students are learning English. Their English at present is very limited. I want to provide a similar learning environment for them, but I do have to modify the delivery because of their limited English language skills. In the classroom they perform exercises on various levels of complexity, from introduction of concept to application. For these students, repetition in many forms of practice is essential if they are to learn the new language. Additionally, they need extended practice outside the classroom. I recall, a while back I presented my Level I ESL students an opportunity to view The Miracle Worker, depicting the early years of Helen Keller and the valiant efforts of her teacher, Annie Sullivan, to educate the child Helen, who had been rendered deaf, mute, and blind. As the story unfolded about the magnificent dedication of a teacher to overcome many obstacles in the teaching/learning environment, my students (mesmerized and drawn into the vivid on-screen actions) began to sob, so touched were they by the story. I asked them if they would like to learn more about Helen and Annie. They unanimously agreed to do a project. I randomly assigned one-half of the class to Helen Keller, and the other half to Annie Sullivan. The film had provided the necessary elements for their project; the rest came from their own insights. They selected their topics and worked cooperatively to ensure that all group members had a job, and that duplication of information between the two groups would not occur. I was available to answer questions, and make minor suggestions; otherwise, the projects were 100% student directed. The students worked on their projects outside of class, devoting many additional hours to research and preparations. The results were little “works of art” that included pictures of Helen and Annie throughout various stages of their lives and accompanying vignettes obtained from the public library and Internet research. I displayed their projects in the lobby of our building for all to come and enjoy. My students identified with Helen, the eager learner beset with obstacles not of her own making. They expressed their admiration of Annie, a teacher deeply committed to her student’s learning. However, they derived much more from their endeavors. For example, in the process they learned about Braille, and included examples and descriptions of the subject. I was very proud of the students. They were very proud of themselves. While the example does not reflect “a dance of dynamic conversation,” I view it as being in the spirit of the model.

Palmer presents a vision of an ideal classroom where teachers and students collaborate to produce real, dynamic education. He acknowledges the difficulties involved in transitioning teachers to his model of community, but the need to create space for a community of truth to thrive is vital to producing a nation of thoughtful citizens. He presses the great need for teachers to be skilled in adopting community of truth classrooms. As Palmer explains, it is not an easy task to formulate the kinds of questions that will evoke thought and critical debate in a classroom. However, unless a change does occur, such transformation will continue only to be the subject of books and essays. Certainly, such methods must start in the early years of education, and continue uninterrupted through all levels of education. Then, teachers will no longer need to teach to the test, as students will have the requisite skills for answering questions and writing essays.

It is understandable that doing inner work has its limits to accomplish such transformation. Palmer’s concern lies in the fact that teaching is done in isolation, and because of this reality teachers need ongoing conversations with colleagues concerning their teaching. He seeks for teachers a broader perspective. Palmer promotes the concept of teachers evaluating teachers, as solely turning inward to explore what good teaching is can find us running around in circles of self-delusion and rationalization. This other voice, says Palmer, is not only necessary, but should be a professional obligation. In Chapter 6, Palmer will revisit the community of truth to explore ways to make it grow within “a community of pedagogical discourse,” to allow teachers opportunities to observe and listen to one another.

References

Palmer, Parker J. (1998). The Courage to Teach: Exploring the Inner Landscape of a Teacher’s Life. San Francisco, CA: Jossey Bass. Available through the TCALL Clearinghouse Library.