On Friday, my class started workshopping. The first day went well and I prodded students along when their responses were surface-level ones such as: I thought it was interesting... or, it was imaginative. On day two, I can say that I am satisfied with my workshops thus far. Since I want to use this same approach next quarter (fingers crossed that I will still be around this time next quarter), I have decided to give a description of how I got the students to this point.
Monday, November 14th
All quarter long, I have stressed the importance of revision. I told students that all the great writers and the not-so-great writers MUST take full advantage of the opportunity to revise. I have made it a point to show my students my own writing process when drafting up prompts and such. I even allowed 30 minutes of class time to go over my prompt thoroughly before printing it out and bringing it to class with me the following class meeting.
I also have stressed to the students that I would never assign them something that I wouldn't be willing to do. Since workshops can be a terrifying experience, I wanted to make sure that my students knew I am willing to put myself out there and be workshopped too. To accomplish this, I decided that we, as a class, would workshop my memoir piece from Jim Brown's 621 class. I printed out copies of my story and passed them out to my students. I prefaced it by telling my students that "This is a sample of a student's paper." I didn't want to tell them right off the bat that it was my paper for fear that they would hold back with their critiques. The only other bit of information I gave them was that "the first step to workshopping a paper is reading the piece with a pen or pencil in hand."
I gave the students sufficient time to read my story. After the majority of the students had finished, we listed 4 positives to the piece. Each time a student would say an "I liked ____" statement, I would ask why and for the student to take us to the exact point in the text to support the claim. Once we reached 4 "concerns" for my story, I let the students openly discuss for a few minutes. When the conversation winded down, I told the students that the story was mine. The class gasped and instantly there were shouts of "I knew it!" and "ohmygoshwhathappenednext!!?"
I know that workshoppping can be scary, but that I put myself out there to be workshopped to show them that it isn't TOO scary. Over all, I was glad that my gamble paid off.
Wednesday, November 16th
Since I was in a gambling mood, I thought of another approach to teaching the art of workshopping. I invited Bridgette, Candice, and Nicole to come to my class and workshop my story. Instead of participating in the workshop, my students were to observe how we workshop because this is how I expect them to behave in their workshops. Before we began, I wrote the following on the board:
What to look for in our workshop:
*What "moves" we make --> how to give constructive criticism
*How the person being workshopped behaves
*What are some differences between peer-editing and workshopping?
With that information given, I began the workshopping session. My group of peers workshopped me for roughly 15 minutes. During that time, I took copious notes and made sure to make eye contact with those who were providing me feedback. Most importantly, I sat in silence. When the session was over, I brought the conversation back to my students and had them address what I had written on the board.
To my surprise, seeing our workshop model really connected the dots for my students! I'm more than satisfied with the way my class is handling workshopping and I look forward to updating my blog with moments of glory (yay) and moments that need reconsideration (nay)!
Monday, November 21, 2011
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Slacker!
Yes, I am a slacker. I thought that installing the Blogger app on my phone would help me to blog on the go.
Wrong.
Ultimately, I have failed myself in the same way that my students failed themselves when they didn't read.
I remember in June when the prospect of this TA-ship filled my brain and heart. Back then, my fall quarter consisted of me teaching my 107 class and taking one grad class (617) so that I wasn't so stressed out. Also, my light load would allow time for me to write and get my thesis proposal passed.
The reality of my fall quarter, however, looks much different. Instead of taking one class, I'm taking two classes: I am on campus all five days of the school week. I have admitted defeat with my thesis/proposal and will be taking the test instead. The silver lining is that my 107 class, thank the gods, is even more wonderful than I had anticipated. Despite my awesome experience as a teacher, I still feel like a failure as a student. I've fallen way behind on maintaining this blog, I entirely forget to post to blackboard for my classes, and I now have to take ANOTHER class next quarter because I'm taking the test.
To be frank, this blog post is not me complaining or me looking for some sympathy. Rather, this blog is my way of owning up to my failures of the fall quarter in hopes that I will be able to stop slacking and shape up! I've always taken so much pride in being an "ambitious student" as Rhodes once called me. Right now I'm more lack a slackmaster student!
--A hopeful TA/grad student
Wrong.
Ultimately, I have failed myself in the same way that my students failed themselves when they didn't read.
I remember in June when the prospect of this TA-ship filled my brain and heart. Back then, my fall quarter consisted of me teaching my 107 class and taking one grad class (617) so that I wasn't so stressed out. Also, my light load would allow time for me to write and get my thesis proposal passed.
The reality of my fall quarter, however, looks much different. Instead of taking one class, I'm taking two classes: I am on campus all five days of the school week. I have admitted defeat with my thesis/proposal and will be taking the test instead. The silver lining is that my 107 class, thank the gods, is even more wonderful than I had anticipated. Despite my awesome experience as a teacher, I still feel like a failure as a student. I've fallen way behind on maintaining this blog, I entirely forget to post to blackboard for my classes, and I now have to take ANOTHER class next quarter because I'm taking the test.
To be frank, this blog post is not me complaining or me looking for some sympathy. Rather, this blog is my way of owning up to my failures of the fall quarter in hopes that I will be able to stop slacking and shape up! I've always taken so much pride in being an "ambitious student" as Rhodes once called me. Right now I'm more lack a slackmaster student!
--A hopeful TA/grad student
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
"All Downhill From Here"
As I pulled into a parking space in front of UH on Monday, a New Found Glory song was playing. My nerves distracted me, however, and I paid no attention to it.
Why on EARTH did I assign a Royster essay for my students to read? Because it was revolutionary when I read it for the first time and I hoped that maybe even ONE student would have the same reaction to it as I had. Yes, but now you have to teach it to them.
It's ok, I gave them fair warning and posted the article well in advance so that they all had PLENTY of time to read it. Plus, I told them to read for the conversation and not to let the jargon trip them up.
I lesson planned in my office, as I normally do, while Elisa was in class. I came up with a really great quick write, but then realized that they needed me to define some of the terms that Royster uses to better understand the conversations she addresses. I will begin class by offering them the option to quick write first or for me to define terms and THEN they quick write.
I got to class and things went smoothly and just as I had planned: We talked about important happenings from this past weekend, then they chose the option of me defining terms and then a quick write after. I took out my marker and asked them to tell me which terms I needed to define. I stood in front of the whiteboard, ready for the bombardment of words/terms/concepts to arrive. Instead of a shower of words, I got silence.
"I will wait for someone to tell me a term."
At least 5 minutes went by as I paced with my marker in hand.
"Subject positioning," someone shouted from the corner.
I wrote it on the board and then decided to give them a few more since the first one took so long to come up with. I finished defining some terms and I told them to talk about the text before I had them quick write. "Talking with your peers will help you tease out meaning from this dense reading," I explained.
After 30 seconds, I one student from the back corner of the room asked, "What if our surrounding neighbors didn't read?"
Ruh roh. I responded, "Well, then you should migrate to the other side of the classroom and talk with them." As I gestured toward the other side of the classroom, I noticed that they seemed to have the same dumbfounded looks on their faces. Double ruh roh. No one read.
With that horrible thought, I decided to blatantly ask the students if they read. "If you read, raise your hand."
2 hands reluctantly raise. 1 other girl halfheartedly raises her hand. Yes, a grand total of THREE people out of TWENTY-SIX did the reading.
And here I had been stressing out about teaching Royster and so proud of myself when I came up with a lesson plan. Time to scrap that plan (for now) and come up with an improvised plan B. My improvised plan B looked something like this:
--find out why they didn't read
--narrow their excuses down to the ones that were not preventable--which were "the reading was too dense" and "it was boring."
--collaboratively come up with strategies for reading texts that are boring and long (because this will not be the only time you will have to read something you don't want to. That is what college is all about."
--point out that we are all responsible for our own actions and non-actions. Relying on peers to pick up our slack can bite us in the ass, at it has today.
--if you don't put for the effort to read, I will not put forth the effort of telling you what you didn't read; that robs you of your own, personal interpretation of the text and allows for only MY interpretation of it.
By the end of the class, not one single student would look me in the eye. They had the same look that my dog has after he does something wrong and I swat him on the muzzle. Needless to say, I left class feeling unsure, afraid, and frustrated.
Unlike most Mondays, I decided to stay on campus surrounded by my peers instead of driving home during my long 6-hour break. Elisa, Logan, Rachael, Darcy, Brenda, and Bridgette were my sounding boards. At the end of the day, I did not feel unsure of how I handled my first truly bad day in class. As Logan pointed out, the day wasn't bad because I still taught them something even if it wasn't the same something that I had planned on teaching them.
Why on EARTH did I assign a Royster essay for my students to read? Because it was revolutionary when I read it for the first time and I hoped that maybe even ONE student would have the same reaction to it as I had. Yes, but now you have to teach it to them.
It's ok, I gave them fair warning and posted the article well in advance so that they all had PLENTY of time to read it. Plus, I told them to read for the conversation and not to let the jargon trip them up.
I lesson planned in my office, as I normally do, while Elisa was in class. I came up with a really great quick write, but then realized that they needed me to define some of the terms that Royster uses to better understand the conversations she addresses. I will begin class by offering them the option to quick write first or for me to define terms and THEN they quick write.
I got to class and things went smoothly and just as I had planned: We talked about important happenings from this past weekend, then they chose the option of me defining terms and then a quick write after. I took out my marker and asked them to tell me which terms I needed to define. I stood in front of the whiteboard, ready for the bombardment of words/terms/concepts to arrive. Instead of a shower of words, I got silence.
"I will wait for someone to tell me a term."
At least 5 minutes went by as I paced with my marker in hand.
"Subject positioning," someone shouted from the corner.
I wrote it on the board and then decided to give them a few more since the first one took so long to come up with. I finished defining some terms and I told them to talk about the text before I had them quick write. "Talking with your peers will help you tease out meaning from this dense reading," I explained.
After 30 seconds, I one student from the back corner of the room asked, "What if our surrounding neighbors didn't read?"
Ruh roh. I responded, "Well, then you should migrate to the other side of the classroom and talk with them." As I gestured toward the other side of the classroom, I noticed that they seemed to have the same dumbfounded looks on their faces. Double ruh roh. No one read.
With that horrible thought, I decided to blatantly ask the students if they read. "If you read, raise your hand."
2 hands reluctantly raise. 1 other girl halfheartedly raises her hand. Yes, a grand total of THREE people out of TWENTY-SIX did the reading.
And here I had been stressing out about teaching Royster and so proud of myself when I came up with a lesson plan. Time to scrap that plan (for now) and come up with an improvised plan B. My improvised plan B looked something like this:
--find out why they didn't read
--narrow their excuses down to the ones that were not preventable--which were "the reading was too dense" and "it was boring."
--collaboratively come up with strategies for reading texts that are boring and long (because this will not be the only time you will have to read something you don't want to. That is what college is all about."
--point out that we are all responsible for our own actions and non-actions. Relying on peers to pick up our slack can bite us in the ass, at it has today.
--if you don't put for the effort to read, I will not put forth the effort of telling you what you didn't read; that robs you of your own, personal interpretation of the text and allows for only MY interpretation of it.
By the end of the class, not one single student would look me in the eye. They had the same look that my dog has after he does something wrong and I swat him on the muzzle. Needless to say, I left class feeling unsure, afraid, and frustrated.
Unlike most Mondays, I decided to stay on campus surrounded by my peers instead of driving home during my long 6-hour break. Elisa, Logan, Rachael, Darcy, Brenda, and Bridgette were my sounding boards. At the end of the day, I did not feel unsure of how I handled my first truly bad day in class. As Logan pointed out, the day wasn't bad because I still taught them something even if it wasn't the same something that I had planned on teaching them.
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