Memo in Response to Second Observation and Feedback

After the first observation I adapted my lesson plans to incorporate ideas from our discussion: allowing for a physical and mental break every twenty minutes or so; always looking for opportunities to maximize and delve deeper into the language of an exercise; trying to be random in my invitation of class participation; using more visuals and peripherals, etc.

After the second observation I became more keenly aware of missed “teachable moments” and the need to expand discussions as necessary when they lead to a critical grammar point.

Importantly, I also hadn’t been aware that early intervention with grammar and pronunciation difficulties — particularly common ones for the learners — is as critical as it is. Sometimes, when I could do so graceful, I would restate and correct, but many times I said nothing because I felt I didn’t have a gentle way to broach the correction. Instead, I just took notes for future discussions. But, I realized later, that there are two problems with this approach. Not only does it allow the error to perpetuate and possibly even spread between students, but the delayed correction lacks context and immediacy.

Elka gave me some graceful ways to insert myself into a person’s storytelling to correct an error: particularly a recurrent mistake stemming from the L1. I practiced being more vocal with my teen class two days later. That group has a different personality, lending itself better to that kind of intervention. That is, sometimes I am part of the conversation rather than just directing it, so for me to slide in a pronunciation or grammar point seems less intrusive. It’s a fine line, however, between too much and too little correction. A young man was telling a story and he kept flipping back to the present tense from the past. I corrected him each time. The mood of the class at that moment was one of fun and the student is very confident, so I felt I could get away with it, and I kept the atmosphere light. But with another student, that wouldn’t have worked.

Here are highlights of other things I learned from my second observation, about which I now have an awareness that I think will carry into my classrooms:

• As described above, watch for patterns of mistakes, e.g. those related to linguistic differences between the two languages, and correct them early. Better if possible to give feedback in the moment than after the fact, before patterns become more entrenched.

• Examine the language goals underlying each phase of the lesson, and analyze them as specifically as possible. I had, in fact, stated language goals for the lesson Elka observed, but learned that they were too general to be of optimal value. Additionally, it helps the students if they know the purpose of each exercise, so they don’t feel lost in a sea of unrooted tasks. By extension, every activity should have a language purpose. We’re not there to entertain. I believe, however, that one can find language goals in an array of activities; for them to be of value, as teachers we have to excavated them consciously and put them on public display.

• The other main lesson that emerged from this observation is that I have a lot to learn about maximizing and recycling. I think it’s something I’ll be able to grasp, because there’s overlap between that kind of activity and my prior professions. But one major hurdle for me are the curriculum deadlines, which are making me feel so hurried so I can’t settle into the classroom experience and truly see what’s going on around me. Another impediment is my newness to the situation and my discomfort with the role of ringleader. I’m so busy trying to make sure I’m on top of where we are and where we’re going that I lose sight of what’s right in front of me.

Uncertainties

I, Thou, It

From all our classes last fall, I think I thoroughly grasp  the “I, thou, it” concept. But I am struggling to envision it in practice in my classroom. At a fundamental level, I see the triangle as representing a balance in attention on the teacher, the material and the students. While I don’t want to dominate, I still feel that the learning environment will dissolve if I am not vigilant every second. So I’m a little confused about how a teacher “takes a back seat” without “letting go of the wheel” in order to succeed in creating a learning-centered classroom.

Balancing Established Curriculum with Student Learning

I already described the scenario in which I worked till 9:00 at night on a lesson plan for my kids’ group. I’d meticulously applied ideas from our conversation (as described earlier) and tried to create a fluid and varied set of activities that supported the lesson plans in the text. But at 9:00, out of the blue, Magdalena told me that the next day the kids were to be tested on the unit.

I hadn’t finished the unit. The kids were struggling with what we’d already covered. M had originally said I had five sessions to complete the unit. It had been only three. Because she is the boss, and she knows I’m not an experienced teacher, and I live with her, I felt uneasy in my contradicting. When I said we weren’t finished yet, she granted me one more class session. It wasn’t enough. I believe she is racing these children through content too quickly. The more advanced ones are in twilight and the others in complete darkness. The two who struggle most, not surprisingly, are the two with the most behavior problems.

So that last class, I raced through the material so fast that even I couldn’t quite grasp it. I tried to find fun where I could but opportunities were limited. There wasn’t time to assist (or peer-scaffold) the kids. In the process, I felt like I was violating my sense of integrity. I got through what I could and sent the kids to the lions: the test was yesterday.

What does one do in that situation? We already spoke about this, but the questions remain. How do you teach something when your hands are tied to help students comprehend? I tried to focus on just a couple key things that they were beginning to grasp, so they’d have at least something to hang on to. But they all did miserably on the test yesterday. Magdalena seemed surprised. I wasn’t.