Wk2 Response 2: Anne Alsup’s Anecdotes

POST 3 


“Who makes the rules anyway and what were they thinking? Seriously, if we never colored outside the lines, where would we be? If we define ourselves by our perceptions of what our administrators, legislators, students or their parents think of us; where would we be? Given the current state of affairs in education, I'd much rather step into a "universe of possibilities" where I can have some control over my perception of the reality. If teachers are going to inspire their students, they need to have some inspiration. Budget cuts, meetings, more reports, standardized testing, learning gains and AYP, do not count as inspiration. If we are going introduce our students to the world of possibilities, we need to make sure that we are acquainted with the terrain.

“I would love to give my students an A and differentiate my instruction to better meet the needs of my students, but the system that I work in doesn't support that goal. It is wrong to tell a student to seize the universe of possibilities and invent his own path to success, when there is a big bad test at the end of the year that is going to determine whether he passes or fails. We simply need more options in our system to allow students more control over their future and the opportunity to experience the universe of possibility. We need to re-think the rules and create some new possibilities.”

Anne,

I have to put this in again:  “If we are going introduce our students to the world of possibilities, we need to make sure that we are acquainted with the terrain.” 

I remember the professor of the first class I took when I went back to school a decade after my bachelors.  The class was “Writing for Teachers,” and this lady, who would later become my student teaching supervisor, told me that what concerned her most about my becoming a teacher was that I’d bury myself in it, to the detriment of my writing… and everything else in my life.

“O,” she would say if she could see me now, “my prophetic soul!”*

I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your lovely compliments— and sometimes I actually feel like I “have moved beyond survival thinking and into abundant thinking.”  But I also get to see some of my shortcomings—some of the “control issues” that aren’t about my class operating smoothly but rather about my fear of failing or my anxiety over things not going the way I want them to.  And I see that this survival thinking has at least in part resulted from the parching of my soul due to allowing—maybe even encouraging—the exigencies of my profession to strangle the possibilities of possibility in my life.

That’s my part of the dynamic.  But the “exigencies of my profession”— well, you described all those perfectly.  And they have a part too.

Isn’t there some way we can find balance?  Hold ourselves and our students to a high standard of accountability that nurtures our humanity and our creativity instead of our Bradburian “pressing buttons, pulling switches, fitting nuts and bolts”?  (Dang—now I have to do a citation.)  It’d be pretty easy, actually:  all we’d have to do is have 12 or 15 students (and Macs) in every classroom.  Barring that, we need people with both vision and the media expertise to implement it to rise to leadership in our educational system.

I know the last thing you want to think about now is more schooling, but maybe you should consider getting your administrative credential!

*(Sorry—yeah, it’s Hamlet again…)

Bradbury, R. Fahrenheit 451. (1953).  New York:  Ballantine Books.