It took me a while to fully immerse myself in this weeks chapter due to the impending "death by abstraction" (p. 77) Palmer mentioned before grounding us in his discussion of practical application.
How many of us have had a similar conversation with a similar "Gang of Three" (p. 73) as Palmer did in his moment of unadulterated frustration? I was able to imagine not only myself in that situation but also the Palmer from the previous chapter trying to get the kid sitting "horizontal" in the back of his guest lecture to be engaged in his lecture. Is it because we care so much that we feel shunned when students don't want to accept the "gifts" we attempt to share with them in such situations?
How many of us have had the good AND the bad not only in separate sections of the same day, but within the very same class? I know I have and after reading this chapter I will try to embrace the awkward silences and charged situations more often with an open mind.
I thought it was poignant when he mentioned how we often resolve tension prematurely when "we ask and answer our own questions in the silence of the classroom, thus creating more silence" (Palmer, 2007, p. 88). I know I most often assume the student doesn't know the answer and jump in to help when there are probably many situations where they are simply trying to formulate their thoughts. I will make it a point of emphasis to "enjoy the silence" (Depeche Mode, 1990) more often and let the students struggle through the formulation of their responses.
This has been the greatest change in style for me. I must have willed this to happen: silence is now not avoided but desired. Those uncomfortable moments when the class waited (" . . . four, three, two, one . . .") for me to answer my own question are a distant yet still painful memory. Now, I wait, and lo and behold, that thinking time produces real results. I cultivate those silences and real learning takes place. It's worth it to move in that direction and I'd counsel any new teacher to work on that early on.
ReplyDeleteI think one of the things that makes us as secondary teachers feel a bit unmoored at times is that we are in temporary (no less real, for that) relationships with thirty kids at once for an hour and then four times again as each class meets for the day. How on earth can we be all things to all people at all times? There's bound to be frustrated connections and missed connections, and partial connections, and an occasional sinuously smooth or even direct connection.
ReplyDeleteI love when students assume that I'm just going to give them the answer. Sometimes they smile, sometimes they look around waiting for someone to answer, and I simply stand and wait. Typically I get a response because students know that I will wait as long as I need to wait, but what is difficult to prevent is a student providing a half-thought response simply to end the silence.
ReplyDeleteThe older I get the more comfortable I am with silence.