Case 1 Initial Response

Doors have a back side also. And grass blades are double-edged. It’s no
use trying to deceive me, leaves fall more by the buds that push them off
than by lack of greenness. Or throw two shoes on the floor and see how
they’ll lie if you think it’s all one way.

-William Carlos Williams, Kora in Hell

The difficulty in integrating the various high school curricula lies in the range of ideas expressed in the various disciplines. While it may be relatively simple to integrate Social Studies and English Language Arts by studying historical or political literature, it might not be so easy to combine Social Studies and Math. This is especially true in High School, where curriculum content is so heavy in some courses that it is a trial for teachers to get through the prescribed content of their course without having to worry about the content of another course as well. The problem with this attitude is that the world is a complex place filled with complex questions that need answers encompassing the ideas from many different disciplines. As a social issue, cloning cannot be explored without both biology and ethics; war cannot be fully understood without politics, history, economics, and religion. As a poet, what has helped my writing the most lately is not reading other poetry but reading current events and political theory.

Of course for me the strongest argument for integration of the disciplines is the authenticity it provides; integration provides a “realness” in its complexity which resembles the complexity of the “real world”. My issue is the feasibility of these integrated curricular systems and how efficient they are. This issue is shared by a great many teachers to whom I’ve talked. Even in my Grade 7 classroom this week, the idea of combining figures of speech with short story writing seemed daunting, despite the two concepts being linked in my mind so closely. I guess sometimes two sides of a thing are never as close together as they might seem.

Linda Hatfield, my partner teacher, writes:

"You mentioned your distaste for 'whole-class' instruction. I'm not exactly sure what you mean. Can you explain?"

This comes out of a conversation Linda and I had about classroom management when conducting a whole class session, whether it is a lecture or discussion. Perhaps distaste isn't the right word, maybe distrust is better, though I imagine neither is as precise as I need it to be. My gut instincts about whole-class instruction come from both my own experience as a learner and concerns over creating a teacher-centered environment. As a student, I primarily learn through talking and listening. "Whole-Class" instruction allows for a lot of listening but not necessarily a lot of talking especially in its extreme form: lecturing. In my first two years of university, I took science lectures with 500 students in the class where I felt completely alienated. I worry that this could happen even in a classroom of 30. I believe that students need to feel ownership over their work and the direction of that work. Of course, this is an ideal pressured by the demands of governmental curricula as well as the demands of the "real world".

My worry though is that by creating a teacher-centered environment, we also model the world as a place where we are told what to do rather than having to figure things out for ourselves. This seems slightly paranoic (almost an alliteration), but I think that it is important to keep these thoughts in the back of the head. This is why when I have been instructing the "whole-class", I've attempted to open the floor to inquiry on the topics. I've noticed that this generally works but does raise some interesting management issues, like "how do you get all of the students involved?" or "how do you get all the students motivated enough to involve themselves?" that I will need to address. Add those questions to the list.

"The question is not whether grammar should be taught, but how it should be taught."

"In order to construct a more effective grammar pedagogy, teachers must first address the deleterous effects of their traditional conception of grammar instruction as an accumulation of entities."

- Carl Blyth

As I'm immersed in teaching basic grammatical principles to my 2 classes of grade 7's the question becomes how to teach grammar without falling into my memories of grammar in junior high: copying dry notes about subjects and predicates and nouns and prepositions. Today, I tried to treat grammar through a constructivist approach, where the students get the opportunity to define the rules. While my vision of the lesson was originally much different than the result, the lesson started very well I think. What we did was to break the class into groups and hand each group a sentence broken into its constituent words with the instructions that they were to "assemble" the sentence. The exercise became an intuitive exercise in meaning making: quietly asking that question, "How do these sentences work?"

For me, another question raises itself then, "Will they get it?" The hope is that after we start looking for patterns in their now posted sentences (ranging from straight-forward to absurd) the answer will be yes.

We'll see.

Mr. Comeau writes

"Hey Ryan,

Nice new fortified site! Anyway, I, too, had an odd encounter with a
cynical teacher yesterday. Actually, she left the profession not long ago
after many years of teaching high school English. Soon into our
conversation, as I was oozing enthusiasm, she snapped: "One day soon, you'll
find yourself at home on a Saturday night with a stack of really bad writing
to mark. About half way through, ask yourself, 'Do I really want to read
this sh_t for the rest of my life?' ... Really!" I suppressed a laugh.
For the past 25 years, I've been reading ambiguous corporate memos,
misleading executive directives, and irrational procedural documents. I'll
cheerfully take a stack of poorly written student essays home any day!

Regarding your site: For some odd reason, I was unable to scroll through the
whole entry. I got only as far as ""So Joseph sobbed. Both he and I
understood what this meant. There would be no additional help for me - or
children such a s Joseph - next year. The promises would". I was unable to
scroll any further. Now, maybe it's because I'm still groggy (it's early),
or there's a little glitch with the site. I'll try again later.

Once again, thanks for sharing your thoughts and experiences.

Ciao,
Don, the oldest kid in class."

Thanks, Don.

As for the page jamming up, I've had the same problem. I find it all loads if you refresh the page though I'd like to get it actually working properly.

As the new school year starts, I find myself thinking more about my ability to teach. A hiatus from anything may not necessarily rust one's ability, but at least adjusts the perception of one's ability ("I can play, but I'm a little rusty" is the comment I got from one of my drummer friends). Summer was certainly a hiatus from teaching. But last night, I had an interesting "talk" (not dialogue) with a former teacher whose only advice to me was a sharp and condescending "Good Luck". She questioned my right as a student teacher to talk about teaching; she was sick of listening to student teachers talk about teaching. I don't want to misrepresent her (she is a wonderful person and I am ultimately glad that I met her) but our conversation threw me. At a point where I am already a little nervous about my second foray into the schools, to be questioned about my motivations, abilities, and desire in the teaching field is not a good thing, though I suspect it may end up strengthening my resolve.

During some research for my case class I found a recent book by Michael Apple called Educating the "Right" Way (RoutledgeFalmer, 2001). At the opening of the book, Apple relates the story of Joseph, "a tough kid, a hard case, someone who often made life difficult for teachers". Apple taught Joseph in an inner city school in the Eastern United States. Despite the fact that Joseph had "made real progress during the year", Apple was instructed to keep Joseph in the fourth grade the following year. Because of the cash-strapped nature of the school and the poverty in the community, things would not improve in the next year:

"So Joseph sobbed. Both he and I understood what this meant. There would be no additional help for me - or children such a s Joseph - next year. The promises would remain simply rhetorical. Words would be thrown at the problems. Teachers and parents and children would be blamed. But the school system would look like it believed and enforced higher standards. The structuring of economic and political power in that community and that state would go on as 'business as usual'"

Teaching will be tough. I see it. And while I may not feel the weight of it now (though my shoulders are getting steadily weighted down), I can glimpse my future in stories like Apple's. There is no sense in pretending that teaching is anything other than a path to slowly enact change in the world. No one said moving mountains was easy.