Which of the case study chapters resonated with you? When did you recognize students, situations, or yourself?
In chapter 9, Campano writes about teacher researchers having multiple identities: activist, interested, vulnerable, and relational. What do these mean to you? In what ways do you feel valued and supported in these kinds of identities, or do you have others?
In this climate of standardized testing focusing on results rather than relationships or process, it is often difficult to sustain these identities, which is where the second classroom comes in. How can you use your agency and community (whether it be your colleagues at school or other places, like this class!) to cultivate and sustain your teaching identities, however you name them?
What resonated with me the most wasn’t an individual chapter, but the overall arc of Campano’s ideology and practice. I couldn’t help but think how Campano exemplifies transformative teaching. Like the “transformative intellectual” that Patrick Finn describes in Literacy With an Attitude, Campano sees “schools as sites of struggle between competing groups that have distinct histories contexts, and cultures” (Finn 156). For example, he acknowledges that his school was classified as low-performing and “the teachers were under constant pressure to standardize curricula according to ‘scientifically based research’” (Campano 31) while his students, like Carmen, were vital members of the Filipino/a community. All of which led to the fostering of his second classroom. Finn continues to explain that transforming intellectuals “aim to help their students become ‘critical agents’ by providing conditions where students can ‘speak, write, and assert their own histories, voices, and learning experiences’” (Finn 156). The prolific samples of Celso’s, Carmen’s, Ada’s, and other students’ writings throughout his book are proof of Campano’s success in providing those opportunities to share their stories. Finn also says that transforming intellectuals “try to help these collective actors become ‘agents of civic courage’ - that is, to help them acquire the knowledge and courage that will make despair unconvincing and hope practical” (Finn 156). Once again, Campano fulfills this with his encouragement of his student teacher Angelica and his students’ self-written teatro script at the classroom management pd workshop (Campano 98-101). The students are no longer lazy, defiant, and in need of remediation, but engaged creators with “alternative ways of knowing and being” (Campano 103). It was really helpful to see the manifestation of Finn’s ideas in an example besides the legendary Freire.
ReplyDeleteI am inspired by Campano’s activist identity. I saw this in the way that he stretched the traditional limits of curriculum to make students’ lives the texts to be studied. Rather than be locked in by the pressure of the literacy curriculums handed down to him, he knew that authentic reading and writing experiences would be best for his students, both academically and social-emotionally. This showed that he was interested in his students lives, vulnerable because he didn’t know what they would write about, and relational because it helped create a classroom community of solidarity.
Campano says that this emergent teacher researcher identity “needs to be named and then encouraged in a self-conscious and systematic way.” As a novice teacher researcher, being in this class and program is definitely helping me form a critical/theoretical background so that I can be confident as an activist. However, I know I need to do more to show my interest in my students’ lives, become more vulnerable in my curricular choices, and see how this affects my relationships with and the relationships among students.
So far, I feel like my “second classroom” has been in the moments with the cross country team last fall. It was a space where relationships developed “organically by following the students’ leads, interests, desires...and especially stories.” When I was helping at practices and meets, I felt like we “operated by a different sense of time, largely improvisational, aspiring to respond to opportunities creatively.” I am looking forward to assisting with outdoor track this spring for the same reasons. I hope to better incorporate my identity on the track as an encouraging, excited coach more concerned about creating enjoyment into the space of my first classroom.
Brittany, I am so glad that you are starting to cultivate a second classroom. That was one of the idea that I focused on while reading and I was trying to think about how to cultivate a second classroom. I love the idea of coaching, and being part of the student's lives in a different, not teacher way. I loved playing sports growing up, and I still love being active. I think that it might be a way that I too can cultivate a second classroom. I love hearing Tina and Brian talk about their basketball teams. I hope that I can coach soon too!.
DeleteBrit, the line you pull from Campano, "this emergent teacher researcher identity 'needs to be named and then encouraged in a self-conscious and systematic way,'" is so perfect for this stage of our teacher research. This is where we are making decisions about what we feel is important in our classrooms and to our students and ourselves right now, where we can be purposeful in our inquiries and actions.
DeleteJenny, you would have a blast coaching! I feel that I've gotten to know all of the players on the team (even the ones that I don't have in class) on a much more personal level than some of my students. It's really a great environment to help students and work with them in another aspect of their lives.
Britt, I like how you pulled in another text and then related this to your own experience. You're a novice teacher, too, and that's not something to downplay, but rather embrace.
DeleteBrittany,
DeleteMany years ago, we would just say that some teachers were really good at getting to know their students, and others just didn't care. Campano makes reference to this as "those who were born to teach" and we discussed last semester, how some teachers can just "bring the magic." As we move forward in our discussion and develop our ideologies, we are moving into the concept of the second classroom, and it seems apparent to me that the magic, and natural art of teaching is less accident or talent, and much more purposeful, and a product of our individual experiences and purpose. Whatever that combination of desire and purpose is, you clearly exhibit all the best tendencies, and as you know your students more and more, you will make functional adjustments (sometimes without even realizing it) that will serve you incredibly, and produce amazing results.
The case study that resonated with me was the story of Priscilla (p.60-5). Like Priscilla, I currently have a student who sounds like she came from a similar situation. I learned this information from an ELA Project-based Learning task and was interested to hear her story because it was a story that I never encountered with any student. Students were reading La Linea and students could interview someone they knew or use their own experiences to parallel the story. This student, who I will call Moe, came from Mexico where her parents came to America illegally. For many months, she remembered walking or being carried a lot and not sleeping in the same place night after night. I remember Moe telling me that she was only about 4-5 years old when her parents made the decision to come to America. She was given to trusted adults by her parents to take care of her. She remembered it vividly because she cried most of the time because she wanted to her mom and dad. Although Priscilla’s story was not exactly like Moe’s, it made me think about the turmoil and the constant uncertainty she experienced as a young person. I realized that both survival stories made me think about what I could learn from them. I would have not learned Moe’s story if I did not take the time to listen and “question my own, ingrained assumptions."
ReplyDeleteThis quote was the most powerful to me because assumptions and generalizations can get in the way of being a meaningful teacher researcher. “Inquiry as a stance, as a type of spatial orientation, involves resisting the stifling urge to categorize in order to make room for the individual children themselves to more fully develop and articulate their own experiences so we can question our own, ingrained assumptions” (p. 117). I think this is the foundation for all teachers to use as a guideline and something to remember when researching. I believe that teachers that come from a dissimilar background of their students, it is imperative, if not a critical component that can’t be overlooked.
I think as teachers we much have all of these components—interested, activist, vulnerable, and relational. As teachers, “we enter the classroom with our own background and intensions”, and the students “encounter the class with their own cultural resources, interests, values, and cares” (p. 112). It is both of these experiences that help inquiry grow collaboratively and professionally.
I could use the “second classroom” as way to find more information about students. I could possibly use colleagues on my team or possible administration to find out information. Then use the information as a starting point for conversation. For example, if I am looking to find out information about a particular student, I could go to my team of teachers and see if they are see the same things (compare notes). Then use the information to collaborate with that student to gain a clearer perspective. Setting all assumptions or generalizations aside, I can then construct a possible outcome with some student perspective.
Ken, I feel like I also use my colleagues to help connect with my students. I have wondered if I rely on my colleagues too much. As a mentioned in my post, my co-teacher Margaret was always the one who knew about what was going on with the students, she knew about their home lives, knew about who was getting along and who was fighting and why. She was a great resource when I couldn't figure out what was happening between two students, but I also was jealous of her knowledge, and always wished that I had the connections that she had. I think it is great to have a team of teachers that work together because hopefully each student will have at least one adult looking out for them.
DeleteKen, I like your emphasis on "survival stories." Our students' backgrounds shape them in ways we cannot see, and perhaps in ways they cannot see. As Lucille Clifton said, "Every pair of eyes facing you has probably experienced something you could not endure."
DeleteKen,
DeleteI'm not sure if you are a Game of Thrones fan, but in the series, there is a character Jon Snow, who becomes part of a community to which he does not belong. His female-love interest Ygritte, continually tells him "you know nothing Jon Snow" as a way of letting him know that she, and her society, are much more complex then he will ever understand, and that because he has always interacted with the established power, and accepted their rules as dogma, he has closed his mind to other possibilities. As teachers we can never truly know all our students experiences and motivations, and they can never know ours, but by purposefully working toward mutual understanding, and sharing of ideas, we truly become part of their team of success, and they of ours.
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ReplyDeleteI found it intriguing to read Campano’s case studies. I found myself drawn to the examples centered around a unit on Sandra Cisneros’ The House on Mango Street. I have used this text with my ninth grade students and although my students are not as ethnically diverse as Campano’s, I think they might be able to better understand their own cultural identities through the type of narrative writing Campano describes. Campano argues that Cisneros’ story “Those Who Don’t Know” serves as “a way to signal to the students the importance of their own local knowledge” (48). Two students, Maria and Simon, wrote about their own neighborhoods in response to and modeling from Cisneros’ vignette. Campano believes that this type of introspective writing becomes “a vehicle for them to critically mediate their understandings of the neighborhood, resist preconceptions, and analyze the material conditions that threatened to diminish their life opportunities”(49). It is through this writing that Campano is able to merge both the first and second classrooms. Additionally, both Simon and Maria were able to create pieces that “recognized that the neighborhood’s strength lies in its diversity”(50). These students used writing to describe and explain the harsh daily living conditions of their communities, yet also to see beyond those negative conditions and stereotypes to see the true value in the unique neighborhoods they call home. Campano argues that Maria and Simon were able to see beyond the negative and come to value their unique neighborhoods. This realization, according to Campano, can only be achieved through writing and this writing must merge the first and second classrooms together. I would love to try something similar with my own students this year. Even though my students do not live in urban areas, they all come from different “neighborhoods”. I think in describing their unique surroundings, they might also be able to “educate ‘those who don’t know’ about the world and how it affects them”(51). It is with this type of activity that I can work in, through and around the first and second classrooms.
ReplyDeleteI am an interested, vulnerable, and relational educator. I am first and foremost interested. I am interested in my students and their lives. I am also interested in my content. I am an English teacher and I my focus is Secondary Education. I am passionately interested in both of these disciplines. I am vulnerable. I always feel as though I am “putting myself out there,” and many times I feel vulnerable as to how parents, administrators and students will react to my ideas and strategies. However, that does not stop me from expressing myself. I am also relational. I have many strong relationships with students and colleagues. I don’t think I could be a teacher and not have these types of bonds and relationships with the people surrounding me every day. At first, I was thinking that I am not an activist, but I’ve changed my mind. To me, being an activist means that I am a person who actively seeks to change the status quo. And I’ve never thought of myself as that type of person. However, it is Tuesday and I have just returned home from an eight hour voluntary English curriculum work session in which we are developing a brand new English curriculum for Cranston. So, yes, I think I am also an activist. I am helping to change—hopefully for the better—the way students in Cranston will learn English at the high school level.
Melissa, it is great that you can see yourself in so many different roles. I think that your insight and participation in this graduate program also add to your interested, vulnerable and activist role as an educator. My co-teacher Margaret also used House on Mango Street in her curriculum with our 8th grades from New Bedford. She had her students describe their neighborhoods, I read some of these description and it was amazing what I learned about my students and their lives. I greatly enjoyed reading those narratives and the window they provided into my students lives.
DeleteThere are many ways to define being an activist, and I like that you are ready to declare yourself one, Melissa!
DeleteI wonder what your students would take away from writing about their neighborhoods? Would they feel constrained by the lack of diversity?
Melissa,
DeleteI just finished a video text with my class about the myth of race, which proposes that there is really no such thing. It is a fascinating piece, which challenges all of us to consider that we have way more in common with every single human on the planet, than differences. Here is the link, I rented the video for a week for $5: https://vimeo.com/ondemand/race
Just because you see your classroom as not ethnically diverse, your students are diverse in experiences, family traditions, and upbringing, and therefore the lessons, and interest in sharing their stories is still a critical component of your "second classroom" and in the effectiveness of your first classroom.
PART 1:
ReplyDeleteAs I read through Campano I had a very hard time connecting to what he wrote about. I understood what he was trying to do, “to mediate and illuminate the generative nexus between the students’ and the teachers’ own interest and resources” (pg 113). But I did not feel like I could connect with his students the way he and his student teacher, Angelica, did. This connection is something I have been struggling with in my teaching. Currently, at the school I work in I feel more comfortable connecting with my students, because most of them are like me. But when I worked at OSS, this was a constant issue I had. I never felt like the teacher that students came to to talk about their issues, or homelife, my teaching partner, Margaret was the go to. The girls even wanted Margret to be their school guidance counselor. I also watched how Ms. Silva, another teacher in the school, connected with her students, she was so good at getting to know them and getting involved in their lives. When her students came in on Monday they were so excited to see her and tell her about their weekend. At lunch/recess time they would sneak away to find her in her classroom. Ms. Silva had it, she had the second classroom, she connected with students, she taught a writer’s workshop, where the students got to meet authors, publish work. It just wasn’t me and I wish I knew how to connect more.
As I read through Campano’s study I was amazed at the way he got students to connect and speak out. Though I’m sure it was tough work, and not all students could write like Maria, or bring you into their lives like Carmen. I learn so much about my students, not through them, but through what other teachers have learned about them and happen to share with me. I have blamed it on the fact that I am a math teacher, and we don’t read and discuss novels, we don’t journal and reflect on our lives through narratives and poems. It makes me think, should I incorporate journaling in my class, or some type of correspondence between myself and my students so that I can get to know them better? I was a long term sub once for a math teacher who did a “conversation calendar” with her students. It was a graphic organizer that had boxes for each week of the month, one column for the students note and another for the teacher to respond. This helped her connect with her students, but it felt so forced to me. Students were allowed to write whatever they wanted in the boxes: about their weekend, a tough time with a friend, a question they had about math. The teacher would collect them once a week and respond. When I was substituting I took over the ritual for her, I noticed that most students would jot something down right before they were collected so that they’d get the completed check mark. I guess this was a way to connect, but it just seems so forced and not genuine.
This would be an excellent topic for research, Jenny. I am sure there is some of this--i.e., how math teachers can connect with their students--in the literature. A very simple thing you may have already instituted is the "check-in" system that Dr. Bogad instituted and I use as well in all of my courses.
DeleteJenny,
DeleteSometimes the way to connect with students is to let them see you in a vulnerable position, so they look at you in a different way. I often see teachers who only try to portray themselves in a professional and disconnect role, and while I don't see that in you, I have found that letting down your guard once in a while and sharing a stress, can encourage students to open up more as well. Conversely, listening closely to what they say, and asking follow-up questions lets them know you are invested in them as individuals, and most students I have known, respond very well to teachers who are looking for more than their academic output. I think this is what Campano and so many of our other authors are saying when they discuss the second classroom.
PART 2:
ReplyDeleteI wish often that my identity was not “the math teacher.” I wish I could be more than just the math teacher. But I get so concerned with my content and making sure that I teach it well, and the students understand, and that we get through the syllabus. I want to do my job well and I want my students to feel successful in math, school and life, that I get so caught up in just getting the material out there. I feel that I have been the activist, the leader, the originator, but just not currently, not in this job. I was tough being so many different things. When I worked at OSS I was a teacher of two content areas, two grades, I was supervisor to both the math and science departments, I mentored Ameri-corps teachers, I supervised the advisory program, and coordinated the whole schools schedule. I left that job because I wanted to find a school where I had someone to learn from, a community of teachers that push each other to do better, but I think I have found the opposite, and now I long for the days with I had multiple identities.
Campano’s book gave me a lot to think about. Though I enjoyed the narratives, and I understand the power of inquiry into the classroom, the students and the teacher, I could help but ask myself, how can I apply this in my classroom? What does this have to do with my classroom? How can I use what he learned in my own practices? What will I make my second classroom into?
It's one of those 'be careful what you wish for' kinds of things. You're missing a lot in your situation, so you have to deal with what you have. But you also named why you don't have strong personal connections with your kids: if you are overly concerned with the syllabus, then you're not prioritizing relationships. What's best for your students? It's different every day and with every student...
DeleteJenny,
DeleteI think we may feel like we do not make the same connections as other teachers do in our building, and that is okay. I will look at some of the connections that other students have made with other teachers and sometimes feel that I am not making the same impression. Even thought you have a small group of students, I am sure that there are students who want to make that connection with you even though you do not have them for a whole lot of time. Just an idea, but maybe the time you have gathering kids is a time to get to know them on a personal level? Who knows what they might bring forward and uncover for you. It might turn into something Campano experienced with his students on a personal level. Who knows... :D
I feel as if several of Campano's case studies resonated with me in unique ways - some of the students he described reminded me of individuals that I have had in my own classrooms, while others reminded me a little bit of myself growing up and discovering how each of the pieces of my cultural background fit together. What really struck me, however, was the way he described how our backgrounds influence every single day of our teaching: "from the very first moment we begin teaching, we bring our life histories to bear upon our practice. Our presence in the classroom is ineluctable animated by our own experiences as learners, our implicit and explicit notions of what constitutes knowledge, and what it means to be an educated person" (91). I can't help but think that this has a lot to do with who we are not just in the classroom as teachers, but also who we are in the classroom as learners, and why we were driven to pursue further education along with a group of "transforming intellectuals" to support us and guide us along the way.
ReplyDeleteChapter 5, "I Will Tell You a Little Bit About My People," really spoke to me. There was one part that I read several times over, and just couldn't believe how accurate it was on infinite levels; Ada, who wrote the poem titled "Abuelita," compared the challenges of her life to a passage from the fable Haroun. Haroun describes his father, Rashid, as a juggler who never makes a mistake.Talking about all of the parts of her life that she has to juggle, Ada compares herself to Rashid, the only difference being that she "makes mistakes" (57). Aren't we all like Rashid, or better yet, like Ada - juggling so many parts of ourselves and our lives that we can't help but make mistakes? How many times have I scolded my students for not completing some of their homework, without taking into consideration all of the different things they have to juggle? How many times have I forgotten to run off copies or prepare something for a lesson simply because I am juggling? How many times have I had to decide whether I should go to bed an hour early or read just one more article for class - or maybe grade those tests that have been in my bag for over a week? The truth is, we, and all of our students, are like Rashid, juggling and juggling, day after day. We are, however, even more like Ada, trying to juggle it all and making mistakes anyway. This is where creating that second classroom, that safe space for students to come and share parts of their lives with us, is crucial. Not only can we help them with their juggling, but we can also show them that we, as normal human beings (because we all know they think teachers have superpowers and live in their classrooms), have to juggle different parts of our lives too.
(Oops, I wrote too much...) - Continued:
ReplyDeleteNot only do we have different parts of ourselves to juggle (daughter, student, teacher, friend, girlfriend, athlete, teacher researcher), but each of those parts may require juggling within themselves. The part of my identity that is teacher researcher requires me to juggle, as stated in Campano's Chapter 9, a professional identity, activist identity, interested identity, vulnerable identity, and relational identity. (Thinking about all of this juggling and my awkward clumsiness put together is sort of making me laugh right now.) Each of these is unique and requires a different part of our teacher-self to emerge, but they can all co-exist with one another. Actually, they need to. Being vulnerable in front of my students requires me to be interested, which can come as a result of and in need of developing relationships with them - and all of this is expected in a professional environment. Campano describes the "physical, material component to teaching, an emotional and bodily strenuousness," the daily facts of teaching that we live every day without question, in order to better the education of our students. The truth is, we all have a lot of juggling going on, and sometimes we can be so focused on our own responsibilities and agendas that it is easy to forget the intricate parts of themselves that our students are juggling as well. This is the heart of teaching, spinning around and around, inviting students into our orbits and being able to witness a little bit of theirs. The classroom is where students should be able to come and talk about all of the parts they have to juggle, sometimes with very little (and other times too much) guidance.
Cultivating a second classroom has been something that I've truly enjoyed since beginning my teaching career a few years ago. I have always gotten involved in different aspects of the school, from coaching to after-school writing clubs to student-faculty sporting events, allowing me to form relationships and be interested in other parts of my students' lives outside the classroom. At this point, I have a pretty good grasp on who I am now and who I want to be as a teacher - who I want my students to see, learn from, learn with, and talk to. Campano's book has gotten me thinking about different ways to incorporate students' histories and personal stories into my classroom, allowing them to share everything they have to juggle.
Love the metaphor about crossing orbits, Tina! We can invite students into our orbits, or we can just run parallel to them. The questions you bring up about teaching--how to use time, for example--never go away. There are boundaries we each need to develop to support our orbits, but they have to be permeable to allow others to fly with us.
DeleteJuggling is a great metaphor for teaching, and for life. I think it is so important to understand that all of us, even students have a lot going on in their lives. I know that my homework policy has always been, that it is due on the day assigned, but I always give students another day if they forget or had something come up, their grade is marked down a bit, because there are always some consequences for missed work in the "real world". I think that giving students the time and space to make up work allows for a more understanding environment. I also want to know why it wasn't in, incase it is an issue that I can help with, but most often it has just fallen through the cracks of our busy lives.
DeleteBrian Crookes
ReplyDeleteSED 562
Memo #4
“When framed in this manner, their “behaviors” are not the result of traits such as laziness or defiance – almost ubiquitous accusatory categories in schools – but are rather rational responses to unjust situations.” Gerald Campano
It was this sentence, more than any other in the Campano book that resonated deeply with me, especially in relation to my current students at Central Falls High School. I have recently really begun to pay very close attention to the descriptions, references to, and responses to the students in my program, my program itself, and the faculty involved with it. It has been eye-opening to actually internalize the way this group of young people, and the work we do together is perceived and portrayed by teachers, parents, administration, other students, and even ourselves. I have heard phrases like “it’s a joke the way those kids earn credit” and “who cares what they are doing down there anyway” and “what is it you do again?” more than I care to. Worse than that in a way, is the self-deprecating way our students sometimes refer to each other and themselves at times, and while I have only recently started to closely observe this phenomenon, I have felt its suffocating weight for some time now. I also realize that it goes beyond my classroom walls, to the school, district, city, and beyond, and cloaks our young people and their families, and our teachers and leaders in a garb of negativity that is perpetual and overwhelming, yet at the same time offers the freedom to exceed wildly beyond anyone’s expectations.
In reading Campano, chapter 5 discusses “Necessary Silences,” as an intentional response to stressful and difficult situations, and Leticia’s response to Langston Hughes’ poem was particularly interesting to me. In it she discusses how hard her mother works, the risk she took to emigrate here, and how she loves her and wants to give her a better life. This is a common theme in my experiences with my students, the idea of deep appreciation, and the dream of overcoming. I struggle with how to help my students see a clear plan for such an outcome; to be able to take the necessary steps to reach such a lofty goal rather that leave it as a foggy unclear desire. I fear that too many of them will end up taking their place in the continuing struggle, rather than rage against it in a purposeful and effective way. I am concerned that while I can discuss with them the constructs of society that are in place to keep them right where they are, building the bridges to get to different places takes major change, and while I might see that change in them individually, the struggle for the masses continues. I take comfort in the Margaret Mead’s words “never doubt that a small group of thoughtful committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.