I want to make my curriculum a WE story.
The most revolutionary insight I’ve had in this year of insights was the idea that students are hungry—starving—for learning that is meaningful to them, that enables them to experience accomplishment and contribution, to solve problems and make their world a better place. And the society we live in allows very little room for them to do so. I’ve shifted my perspective on that last statement, so that it is no longer a hopeless complaint but a “What is, is” observation.
What I think I can do about that is NOT tell my students how to get out there and solve problems but to make my classes next year an opportunity to define the relevant problems we have together and together construct activities that will accomplish solutions to those problems.
This is not as easy as it sounds in a senior English class. One problem is that we are required to experience some writing and reading, including some of that dread nemesis, “literature”—and I would like to discover
some way those activities could turn out not to be “problems” but instead solutions to problems. I got a glimpse of this with some things we did last year, and I begin to see some ways to grow those seeds into seedlings. Approaching storytelling as a culture’s attempts to solve some of the problems of their shared humanity seems to offer possibilities.I always start my classes each year with a journal writing on what each student wants to get out of their senior year, and right this moment I am observing how self-centering that question is. So what if I start asking what problems they define as important to solve? My immediate response is that if I ask that question in a brand new class without having established trust and respect, I’m just going to get “nebulousness” (that’s my English-teacher word for what my Daddy used to call “Baloney Sauce”). And that might be perceptive; or it might be my calculating self afraid to fail. Perhaps I could begin with the “A” 
letter; I can’t actually give them a guaranteed A, but I can ask them to imagine how it would be if I did. (No, this is public high school; I seriously can’t.) But I think I’d want more thought spent on that than a 10- or 15-minute quickwrite. Another avenue is posting, for homework, an excerpt from The Art of Possibility on the class LMS and assigning a discussion—but that has logistical issues that may take some time to resolve, so it might not be a good 1st night assignment. Or…
letter; I can’t actually give them a guaranteed A, but I can ask them to imagine how it would be if I did. (No, this is public high school; I seriously can’t.) But I think I’d want more thought spent on that than a 10- or 15-minute quickwrite. Another avenue is posting, for homework, an excerpt from The Art of Possibility on the class LMS and assigning a discussion—but that has logistical issues that may take some time to resolve, so it might not be a good 1st night assignment. Or…Deep breath! These are good seeds to plant; Graduation was last night, and I have a whole summer to fertilize them and see how they grow. Toward a light of Meaningfulness, in a greenhouse of We. That’s a sappy metaphor. I’m going to use it anyway.
What a beautifully written entry! When I read something like this it gives me hope... for thirsty students, for tired teachers and for an ailing educational system.
ReplyDeleteYou wrote: “Students are hungry—starving—for learning that is meaningful to them, that enables them to experience accomplishment and contribution, to solve problems and make their world a better place.”
I know this is true because it’s exactly how I felt as an EMDT student a few years back and making that connection in my mind and to my learning has made all the difference in the world. And the idea that someone as passionate as yourself will be helping your students make that same connection... Well, it’s inspiring!