“I can stop talking about teaching whenever I want to,” claims educator-writer Emmet Rosenfeld, who spends much of his time—you guessed it—thinking and talking about teaching. A former English teacher at the renowned Thomas Jefferson High School for Science and Technology in Alexandria, Va., Rosenfeld transitioned to a position as English teacher and Dean of Students at the Congressional Schools of Virginia in Falls Church, Va. He wrote this wide-ranging opinion blog on teaching and learning in his classroom and beyond. This blog is no longer being updated, but you can continue to explore these issues on edweek.org by visiting our related topic pages: teaching & learning.
9: 53. I’m writing fast. Not at a sprint, more of a brisk walk. I’m timing myself to see how far I can get in ten minutes, because this is the assignment I asked my 8th graders to do today and I want to do it, too. Actually, I asked them to do it three times this weekend, not all in a row. For each time, in a comfortable setting where they can focus, they are to freewrite for ten minutes and then get a word count. We will get the average words per minute based on this as a baseline for each student.
I’m no golfer. But once when I was taking a couple cuts at a kid’s birthday party at Top Golf, a dad who is gave me some good advice: “Low and slow,” he said, meaning that one should draw back the club head in a deliberate way before hitting the ball. Since then, that phrase pops back into my head every time I pick up a club.
In my new job as Dean of Students, one of my concerns is discipline. Fielding questions from faculty and discussions with my new boss have helped crystalize a philosophy about an aspect of school life that, as a classroom teacher exclusively, I never had to think that much about.
In a lounge chair by the pool the other day I was browsing Chip Wood’s Yardsticks, our school’s summer read for staff and parents. With more than three decades as an educator under his belt, this New England-based elementary principal knows a thing or two about kids between the ages of 4-14. He not only makes a compelling case for developmentalism in schools, he provides a manual for each age covering growth patterns (physical to cognitive), in-classroom concerns (fine and gross motor ability, social-emotional behavior), and thoughts on curriculum (the three R’s plus age-appropriate themes).
One of the ways I’m filling up the gobs up unstructured time in my schedule right now (other than meetings) is by reading the manual. In past years, I admit, Faculty Handbooks have generally been filed away in a stack of get to ‘em later 3-rings on a bottom shelf, but given my new role as enforcer (of rules, that is), I figured I should learn to love this document.
The new gig is already a lot different than the old. I’ve got an office, not a classroom. (More to come on feng shuing that, once I figure out how. So far all I’ve done is throw out an old spider plant.) I even broke down and got the crackberry. That acquisition was precipitated by an unfortunate incident involving the laundry, and and it didn’t hurt that my son loves brickbreaker. I may eventually get used to the buzzing in my pocket, but I promise I’ll never pull it out and thumb through emails while we’re talking.
Waterproofing a deck is not sexy. No one oohs and ahs when you’re done. The only discernible difference is that when juice spills it puddles instead of absorbs. But it is necessary. The payoff is deferred, barely tangible except over time: the deck lasts longer.
Sorry it’s been a while since I last wrote. Along with most of you at this time of year, I’ve been deep in the Stuff. Grading mountains of papers, saying good-byes, grading mountains of papers, distributing yearbooks, calculating final grades, moving stuff out of the room, telling kids to put away their yearbooks, haggling with kids about their final grades, signing yearbooks, exporting grades, going to end of the year luncheons, wondering if I should have changed so-and-so’s grade, hauling boxes of books around… you know. Stuff.
I’ve told my colleagues and my kids, and now I’m telling you. I’ve accepted a position for next year as Dean of Students and teaching 8th grade English at The Congressional Schools of Virginia, an independent preschool-8 school in nearby Falls Church.
This Memorial Day weekend, my family went to a Pow-wow hosted by the Upper Mattaponi tribe of King William, Virginia. There I gave away a boat and got a gift I will never forget.
I predict there will be at least 38 comments on this post. My kids do their homework, that much I know. I’m not so sure they all freewrite right. I take some of the blame; I’m not sure I’ve peeled back my skull enough in using this technique in class so as to make them understand just how undisciplined and generative the technique can be.
I just finished teaching freshman comp at the local community college. Getting back two nights a week is welcome, but I will miss the mix of adults that offered such a stark contrast to the technocrats-in-training I teach on the day gig.
I had a tough time keeping track of my students last Friday because some were silent and others were invisible. Both groups of kids were participants in activities I sponsor at TJ. The silent ones were members of the Gay-Straight Alliance (GSA), who held a day of silence to protest homophobia and then a “breaking the silence” party to go with it. The hard to see ones were members of the UNICEF club, who sponsored a presentation from an organization called “Lost Children” that promotes awareness and education for Ugandans suffering under that country’s twenty-year plus civil war.
Stealing a few strokes at the keyboard as students behind me murmur lines about schoolboys going to school with heavy looks while they comb Romeo and Juliet for motifs. Later in the period it’s a quick review of the 4th quarter calendar with due dates for upcoming projects, and then we’ll watch as ill-fated George Clooney and Marky Mark climb the big wave for the last time at the end of a movie we didn’t find time to finish last quarter.
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