The Joy of Teaching and Learning

Now that school has begun, I am also back to teaching on a regular basis. Many friends think I have a great job because it cannot be hard to work with teachers but alas, teachers are also human beings, and are often tired and stressed-out beings at that.  I am full of empathy for them because I know how hard it is to teach. Like I always say, it’s much easier sitting in a cubicle in front of a computer for 12 hours than to deal with 40 little individuals who prefer to be somewhere else doing something else. And oh did I mention having to deal with the 40 pairs of parents belonging to these individuals?

There are so many things to be mindful of while teaching; the octopus metaphor often comes to mind. In my classes, I don’t have major discipline problems, of course, but I do have individuals who prefer to be somewhere else doing something else. I don’t see this to be my problem although as a teacher, I do hope to engage them sufficiently for them to want to be there with me. And like every teacher, I prepare a lesson carefully, taking into consideration the objectives, the participants and the content to be covered. Time is often a premium in class and often there isn’t enough of it. That’s when I find myself struggling to finish what I have planned. And that’s also when things go wrong.

I often say to my teachers that teaching isn’t about covering the syllabus, but I have found myself in situations where I was doing nothing but trying to get to the end of the PowerPoint presentation and the notes in the books.  Nope, I’m not proud of myself doing that although some are of the opinion that since participants have paid to attend a course, they should get all the relevant input.  But, over the years, I’ve come to understand that teaching is not giving what we “owe” our students; it’s giving students the opportunity and the time to take in, reflect on and understand what we are presenting.  To this end, my best lessons have been when I literally go with the flow, and that is, I flow with my students’ learning and weave my teaching around their understanding and needs. I don’t strive to finish explaining everything I have prepared. Instead, I pause to ensure that my students have made a connection with whatever I am trying to teach.

And amazingly, in doing so, in tending to my students’ needs instead of following my own agenda, I begin to experience the joy of teaching. There is joy when I see students trying to make the links for themselves; there’s joy when they do make the links; there’s joy when they start to ask questions and there’s joy when they begin to see the significance of what I was sharing. And I am joyful too because I am not rushing round like a runaway train. Hallelujah!  

Although the old transmission model of teaching has lost favour with educators, it cannot be denied that much of learning depends on input of new information to be hooked up with what we already know as prior knowledge.  Much of learning also depends on our reviewing of what we already know and our readiness to discard what is no longer relevant and to embrace new ideas and new ways of doing things. This process is a difficult one for everyone and takes time. So, there is no such thing as getting it right the first time. Learning is often a long, hard process which requires the learner’s 100% participation.  The more we understand this, the more we realise that everything we teach requires frequent repetition, review and most important of all, mindful practice.

The mindful practice part is something teachers cannot control. My yoga teacher shakes her head in mock despair every Sunday after she asks her favourite question: So, did anyone practise their breathing? Few do but she does not give up asking and coaxing us to practise.  My friend and swimming partner asks me the same question about practising, and while my intention is always there, I sometimes get derailed by work. But practice is the most important part of any learning and by this, I don’t mean working on mindless worksheets. Remember the 10,000 hours of practice? Thinking about what we’ve learnt and reflecting on how this new learning can be applied is crucial for real learning to happen. Doing it is just, if not, more vital. Even when the practice is repetitious, it’s the awareness of each repetition that elevates it from a mindless chore.

In my case, I hope  teachers go back to class and apply what they have learnt. But I cannot control or ensure that. I can only fill them with enthusiasm and make them positive about the processes and approaches I have shown them. And yes, I feel good when I think I have achieved that. But I think the joy is much deepened when they come back and report on their learning and reflection and their attempts to put their learning to practice.

So when I think about it all, it’s not so much the joy of teaching that I aspire to; I wish that my learners, whoever they are, will also experience the joy of learning.  So ultimately, the joy of teaching must be translated into a joy for learning. And when this is achieved, the equation is balanced and there is harmony in the teaching-learning process.

Hmmmm... There’s a lot to work towards, isn’t there? But, as they always say, "Just do it!".

Whose education is it anyway?

Picture: Pei Chun Public School

Recently, I read Will Fitzhugh’s piece entitled Audience Participation in which he discussed the situation in the US where teachers can be sacked if their students do not perform well. He wondered if it’s really the teacher’s job to motivate students to learn. If you don’t get round to reading the article here, you may find his conclusion worth thinking about (I underlined the key ideas here):

Those who keep saying that the most important variable in student academic achievement is teacher quality simply conspire with all those others, including too many students, who support the idea that academic work and student learning are the teachers’ problem, and not one in which the students have a major share. Of course teachers who are forced out of teaching because their students don’t do any academic work suffer, but we should also be concerned with the consequences for so many of our students who have been led down the primrose path of believing that school is not their primary job at which they also must work hard.

Singaporean students work very hard and I don’t doubt that. Well, they have loads of homework from their teachers, private tutors and their anxious mummies. But do they, and do we, believe that students are responsible for their own learning? Or do we blame the schools and teachers when our children don’t do well?

I often describe teaching as a challenging job. It’s easier to sit in a cubicle and type or wrestle with numbers, but try keeping a group of people engaged when they prefer to be out somewhere doing something else.  Teaching is also hard because teachers are expected to not just educate but also entertain as well. I know this because every teaching session for me is always a performance.  Come hell or high water, the show must go on and I must get out there, put on a smile, and do my best.

Keeping teachers engaged is, maybe, a lot harder than engaging students. But I am realistic. I constantly remind myself that teaching is like bowling (so says Charlie Brown, I think). You hit some but you miss a lot along the way. I am only glad to have hit some because I also believe that learning is an individual responsibility. I refuse to take that responsibility for teachers who don’t want to learn, but prefer to mark books, update their Facebook account, text their loved ones or do assorted more interesting or more pressing chores during my classes.  

I know regular teachers don’t always have my choice. To begin with, they are dealing with young people who are often deemed to be, well young, and therefore cannot be responsible for all of their actions. Then they have to deal with these young ones on a regular basis for a year, sometimes even more. You can ignore them for a day, a week, but not for a month or a term. Teachers don’t have the leisure to say, “We refuse to take responsibility for your learning”. But is this always true?

I ask this because I feel teachers take their responsibilities to their students too seriously. Whoa, I can hear all of you saying, “But they should!” Yes, they should, to a certain extent.  Are teachers always responsible for all of their students’ learning? I don’t think so. Students have to do their bit too as do their parents. But, you protest, “Isn’t that what teachers are paid to do?” Well, yes and no. Just because they are paid, doesn’t mean they have to do everything. I’m sure many of our domestic maids are paid too, but they are not expected to do everything for the child or the family.

But as I said, teachers take their jobs very seriously, and this is both a good and bad thing. The good part is that we can always rely on our teachers, but the bad part is that teachers end up doing their share of mollycoddling in school.  And how do we do that in school? Well, I can think of many ways but how about these for a start? Accepting their sloppy work and correcting all the mistakes for them, rewriting their essays so that they can copy these out, and making and printing out copious notes which students will usually put away, to be forgotten as soon as school is over?

I believe that students have a responsibility for their own learning too, and that doing all these things for them will not help learning.  Instead teachers should hold their students responsible for their sloppy work and refuse to mark them until they have shown some effort put into the piece. But alas, teachers can’t do this. Parents will come after them, they tell me. Really, I said. Do parents want teachers to condone sloppy work? Do they want teachers to set low standards for their children? Don’t they want their children to develop good habits of mind without which the A*s are not so easy to come by?   

So whose education is it anyway? Whose exam is it anyway? Since when have teachers become so disempowered that they cannot refuse to accept substandard work? And although a teacher’s worth is sadly judged by the number of A*s her students get, is it always the teacher’s fault if a student does not do well?  

But I know that desperate times require desperate measures. If the students are showing no progress, let’s give them the words, write the essays for them, excuse their shoddy work etc. But does this help them?  I ask this because I used to “help” my son the same way when he was younger. I thought that by filing his papers for him and tidying his desk, he will have more incentive to study. Wrong! He didn’t even notice that I did those things for him and it didn’t increase his motivation one iota. It made me feel useful for a while though. It didn’t take me long to understand that I did those things for me, not for him.

And isn’t it easier to give them the answers than to wait for the kids to cough them up? And after a while, the kids learn what to do to avoid thinking, and they also learn not to be in a hurry to give answers when the impatient teacher has them all at her fingertips.

Teaching is a tough job. Learning is equally tough, and students should also understand that learning often requires struggling and working hard. And we need to impress on them that they are responsible for their own learning, not their teachers, their tutors, or their mummies. Indeed, I would say that this is the one lesson that is seriously worth teaching in the classroom. 

Good manners and some humility

Recently, I conducted a couple of courses on teaching high ability students for teachers from one of the school clusters here. As always, I begin by asking them what issues they have and what they would like their high ability students to learn. Teachers from one school wrote on their flip chart unhesitatingly - good manners and some humility.

I didn’t laugh at their request although I regretfully wasn’t able to fulfil it. But it’s true to a certain extent isn’t it, that some of our brighter students are neither humble nor well-mannered. Having taught some of the best junior college students myself ( some of whom are important people in the Establishment now), I remember how challenging it was to deal with young people who were bright, egocentric, well-heeled, and who believed that anyone over twenty five had nothing to teach them. I was barely eight years older than my students then, and if I did get along well with them, it was mostly through some shared interests in books and music, and through my well-rehearsed big sister act, courtesy of years of minding seven younger siblings at home. I am happy to report that several former students became good friends.

But I didn’t teach them humility; I don’t know if I could do that. Perhaps one could do this by example, but too much of humble behaviour can sometimes result in one being labelled a wimp. You know what happens to wimpish teachers, don’t you? They are eaten alive in class and deservedly so I think. Woah, that’s cruel, YM, you say but the truth is, I’d rather have no teacher than a wimpish, wishy-washy one.

Some teachers say that the only way to teach humility is to mark students down in their work and ruthlessly expose their ignorance or shortcomings. But students don’t learn humility that way; they only learn to resent you.

But sometimes that’s the game students and teachers play. Students will eye a teacher, test her out with some outrageous request, question or action and then watch for the reaction. If the teacher gives the desired or the unexpected response, her standing may rise or fall in the students’ eyes. And isn’t that still the game that we play in the classroom? Sometimes rapport develops over a shared interest, a mutual understanding, and even a mutual liking or respect and then a relationship is forged that might make it through the years and evolve into a friendship. This is one of the fringe benefits of being a teacher.

Like all relationships, there is always mutual give and take in the student-teacher relationship. And in most cases, it’s the teacher who leads the way. Have you ever asked or wondered what a teacher has to offer her students? The more cynical of you may say that in this age where academic results are always the priority, perhaps a plateful of A stars is the only answer. That’s sad, isn’t it and so not true. Many of us (old and young teachers) would remember our great teachers. They never offered us stars, but yet we never suffered academically under them either. To ensure that the students under our charge fulfil their potential has always been the number one rule in our teaching creed; no responsible teacher will let a child’s academic results suffer. But our teachers offered us more than facts and figures. They offered us their thoughts, beliefs, values, dreams, and their passion for whatever they were teaching. And they offered these with sincerity.

For each special teacher I recall, I remember them not so much for the lessons (a few were superb teachers though) but more for their humanity and their willingness to share their lives and loves. Simon and Garfunkel’s songs and poetry were introduced to me by a young nun and the music of this duo has travelled with me all my life since my teens. My literature teacher shared her love for T.S. Eliot and at an age where the words “I grow old, I grow old, I shall wear the bottom of my trousers rolled” meant absolutely nothing, Eliot’s view of an emotional wasteland still has a tremendous impact on my life. Other teachers were willing to take me under their wings and showed me a different world, showed me things I could do, and helped me believe in myself. Others just became role models through their behaviour and practice.

Years ago, while short listing the entries for The Caring Teacher awards, I came across a letter from a primary school pupil who said that her teacher taught her the importance of leaving a legacy. Many of you will recognise this as one of the key ideas from Stephen R. Covey (author of The Seven Habits of Effective People). Here is the complete quote:

There are certain things that are fundamental to human fulfilment. The essence of these needs is captured in the phrase ‘to live, to love, to learn, to leave a legacy’.

I remember going “wow!” How many teachers will think this an important lesson for primary school students? And how many times did she teach this for a child to remember it so well?

In an age where teachers are increasingly challenged by their young students, it seems like it’s harder and harder to earn their respect and command their attention, let alone their admiration. Have we reached a stage where we have nothing more to teach our students but the facts and figures and nothing more to offer but the A-stars? I feel sad that we are reduced to being purveyors of information and experts at scoring in exams. It is hard to keep up with kids who are born with a wire in their ear and a mouse glued to their fingers. You can’t know everything and you can’t keep up with them. But is this what the game is about?

No, not really. If this were the case, then just have computers not teachers in the classroom. As teachers, we are not expected to be the know-it-all although we should know enough to do our job well. Teaching is about relationships. And having to deal with 40 individuals with their own minds on a daily basis is enough to wear down even the toughest among us. We have to love our job and love the students for the job to mean something beyond a rice bowl. Do we still need to offer them more?

No, but we can. We can offer them friendship. We can open their eyes and their minds. We can lift their spirits. We can offer hope and we can show them the possibilities. Yes, their parents give them that too but not every child gets it. And it doesn’t hurt if a child gets an extra dose. And if they lack good manners and humility, we can also offer these for it’s obvious that they are not getting enough of this from home.

So my teachers are right in wanting their brighter students to learn good manners and some humility. These are wonderful and desirable subjects to add to a curriculum for all students, not just the bright ones. The truly intelligent among them will see the need for such lessons; others I’m afraid will take a little longer. So while I have no concrete suggestions for how this can be done for now, I would say, don’t give up on teaching students these values. Having said that, I must add that good manners can always be taught by example; humility is a tad harder.

But hey, I don’t always have to have the answer to every problem. But I am sure some of you do have some thoughts about this, so do share!