It was particularly disconcerting for me to realize that when the priorities of adults and kids diverge, we simply assume that ours ought to displace theirs. Stop wasting your time learning song lyrics when you could be doing important stuff — namely, whatever’s in our lesson plans: solving for x or using apostrophes correctly or reading about the Crimean War. We tell more than we ask; we direct more than we listen; we use our power to pressure or even punish students whose interests don’t align with ours. This has any number of unfortunate results, including loss of both self-confidence and interest in learning. But let’s not forget to number among the sad consequences the fact that many students quite understandably choose to keep the important parts of themselves hidden from us. That’s a shame in its own right, and it also prevents us from being the best teachers we can be.
Alfie Kohn: What We Don’t Know About Our Students — And Why We Don’t Know It
I’m on the road, running masterclasses for poets who want to develop their teaching practise and work in education up and down the country. Southampton at the beginning of the week, Norwich yesterday, Birmingham today and six more to go. Six hours of tools, techniques, challenges and practical issues, and there’s so much to cover.
One of the things I’ve underlined in every session is the need within a workshop to establish an awareness of goals. I always try to create some space for the people I’m working with to let me know what it is that they want to get out of our time. Or at least to ensure that the people I’m working with feel they’re being listened to. One of my goals is to encourage my students/participants to claim ownership of their experience. The reality is that many of the students I meet in my school visits didn’t come to class for a poetry workshop. They’re sitting in front of me because someone else has decided that they have to be there, that they have to learn something about poetry, or that poetry might be an interesting way to explore some other subject. But I don’t want to try to push ideas into anyone’s head by brute force— ideally, I want minds open and ready to receive. So I listen. I create a space where listening is a valuable act.There are three sets of goals to consider in any workshop: your own, as the facilitator; the teacher or institution who/which has booked you; and the students/participants you’re working with. Your challenge: to balance those (sometimes conflicting) considerations and create (curate?) a valuable, meaningful experience.
Not to forget, the workshops we run as poets can allow our students to open up and explore parts of themselves that they don’t reveal to the teachers (and even other students) they see every day. If there’s no value placed on the act of listening, those revelations go unheard, if they even happen at all.
(via Robert Greco)
Source: The Huffington Post