Leggo My Ego!

Do teachers carry some innate sense of ego or self importance?  Do we over-reach our authority, reflecting our own personal “agendas”?

I’ve struggled with these questions for the past week or so from a recent Twitter conversation. First, because it connects to my thesis on teacher identity and secondly, because I then wondered to what extent I’d allowed my own self-importance to take precedence in my choices for curriculum or coursework. Was I a complete egomaniac?  It’s taken me a while to reply because I prefer to reflect on things before replying, so here goes!

As a first year teacher, I know I did that. My choice to have students perform and produce The Tragedy of Macbeth was a rookie mistake and completely self-absorbed. I wanted to show off, basically. Annnnd I did. But not before most likely crushing a few students along the way by pushing them into something well beyond their abilities. Thankfully, it turned out beneficial (the students were proud of their work), but I hadn’t considered their input enough.

At the end of my second year, I began to see that high school students, when given options, were so much more enjoyable to work with! So, we had a brainstorming session about the upcoming work and vision of the Theatre department. We worked together to determine the best way to change the course and curriculum to better reflect their abilities (going forward) and the abilities of their classmates coming into the department.

Garnering student feedback was the single most humbling thing I ever did.

Teenagers will tell you how it is. They won’t hold back. What they wanted, they said, was more responsibility and freedom.

     “Okay…so, what do I do?” I asked them.

     “Give us the general idea, and if we have questions, we’ll ask.” They said.

Our Book! : )

As a result of giving them a bit more responsibility and freedom, we learned together how to forge a classroom that understood the power of mistakes and used failures to move forward. Oh, they did do some silly things—such as painting purple designs on the walls of the school—but overall, it was a successful endeavor. We were a risky bunch!  Plus, when their teacher made mistakes, it was hysterically funny.

One day, as we all stood around a mis-constructed set unit that was too high to be used, solely based on the teacher’s lousy (or lack of) measurements, we were silent for a moment, hands on our hips. Then, we burst into laughter borne of humility. Wiping away our tears, we moved forward as always.

My answer then, to my former Twitter-follower, is “Yes, you’re right in that we generally push our methods. However, we also have the ability to learn to do otherwise! That’s why our book is not written solely by me, but along with my students.  They were truly the authors of their class experience, so they share in its royalties.  I may have been possessed of some sort of ego at first, but they sure fixed that!
 
It makes sense, then, not to ram an opinion down someone’s throat without taking the time to get to know them and how they tick and what they think. The irony of this conversation and its reliance upon hasty generalization is not lost on me. Where you wished to take me, sir, may not be where I would have gone.

The Conversation:
He:  Read this. Perhaps you wld intrupt them and give a blessed assignment? Blog Link

Me (after reading article): Would endeav. to guide them into even richer experience They did gr8t but how much more could've been accomplished w/ guidance?

He:  Don't you see? The adults "guidance" has a goal. Where u wish to take them may not be
        where they wld have gone

     “Would endeav. to guide them into even richer experience." this is the adult ego/self importance I speak of.

From One Bob to Another: Teacher Professionalism

Auto mechanic is not the first career that comes to mind when discussing the term professional.  After all, it’s a dirty job, lots of grease, grime, and noise. Somehow, though, my father managed to raise the bar of expectation of a mechanic to that of a professional in his self-owned business:  Bob's Auto Air.

His education was minimal (he made it through 8^th grade because he joined the Navy in WWII), but he came up with solid strategy:  he based his professionalism on how he didn’t want to be perceived as a mechanic: dirty, inconsiderate, and incompetent.  

He despised mechanics’ shops that didn’t have a “clean” waiting area, making sure that his shop had a customer area that was free from the grime. Although the grease was something HE had to deal with, his customers did not. 

He also knew that women were often the clientele, so he took this approach one step further by having my mother help him create a pleasant atmosphere, complete with plants, comfortable furniture, and vintage auto décor.  

Of course, this strategy is a bit more familiar, today. However, in the 60's, 70’s, and 80’s, you’d be hard-pressed to find a mechanic’s garage like that. His peers considered his approach superfluous.  That, along with his insistence of keeping the customer’s car clean by virtue of large shop towels, and giving each person a free car freshener (with his logo, of course), set him apart from his competitors. He wouldn’t even shake someone’s hand until he’d used that gooey orange stuff and washed up with Lava soap. 

Further, he knew his stuff. When something new came along in his many decades in the business (such as Metric tools and an understanding of computerized systems), he mastered it, making it part of his knowledge base. He didn’t like that "damned metric system” (had to buy a whole separate set of tools!) or "those stupid computers" (had to learn how to use one!) invading his world, mind you.  

However, he knew that to be competitive, he’d have to get with the game and learn how to cope with those “foreign” models. He retired as a well-regarded and highly-recommended professional after over forty years in this field.  

In the article, "A Great Reason for Appreciating High School Teachers", Bob Lenz poses this thoughtful question on teacher professionalism:   

     If you are a teacher, what do you need to make your job more professional? 

Before we can determine what we’d need, we might want to figure out how we do not wish to be perceived, and through that negation, determine what a professional teacher is. 

My father determined through negation that a truly professional mechanic (despite the necessary evil of grease and dirt) was clean, considerate, and competent.  So, what’s at the top of our list?   

We’d probably all agree that we don’t want to be perceived as incompetent, so anything that would help us to be competent, capable, experienced, or more proficient would be helpful.  

Are we effectively trained? Are we provided the opportunity to master tried-tested-valid-credible-reliable methodologies (as opposed to the newest, "bestest"ones) each year?  Are we evaluated by master teachers? 

From here, though, the professional components of how we don’t want to be perceived may vary, depending on the individual.  However, the same approach works. 

For example, if I don’t want to be perceived as apathetic—which I consider to be unprofessional for a teacher— then I will want to do all I can to be warm and enthusiastic. Thus, my question would be:

What do I need from my administration, school, district, and/or state to help me be (more) warm and enthusiastic? 

Using this strategy, we can work through any component of professionalism: 

I don’t want to be perceived as _____.  (providing low-quality work, not working well with peers, being dishonest, being unethical)

What do I need in order to_____? (provide high-quality work, work well with my peers, be honest, be ethical)

I hope my father’s framework can help us answer Mr. Lenz’s question.   

Mindy and some of her former students recently published Transparent Teaching of Adolescents, a discussion of effective teaching strategies for high school. Join the conversation!