They May Not be Crystal, but They'll Get You There
In May of 2007, when I first applied to the MSU Masters of Arts in Education Program, I wrote a statement of my professional goals. This was not only four years of graduate classes ago, but four years of teaching experience have become mine since then. Much has changed -- my family, my job, myself -- since the beginning of this program, and as I stand here at the end of it, I reflect upon where I have been, where I wanted to go, and where I have ended up. Four years ago I was an optimist, and four years ago I stated, "Meeting the needs of diverse learners is a challenge that will never end. What is diverse? In my school, diversity lies in economics. It lies in ability and disability. It lies in race. It lies in family value of education. It lies in ethnicity. It lies in drive and apathy. It lies in the loved and unloved. It lies in the sheltered and the encumbered. And herein lies my professional objective. I need to know how to reach them all…on some level."
My professional goals were lofty -- based on my experience as an urban educator, but lofty nonetheless. I am still an optimist. This is true, and I embrace that look-for-the-bright-side part of myself, but I must admit that I have been tempted to falter at times along the way. Unsupported initiatives with promise have failed. Children have begun to absorb the fear and uncertainty exuded by their parents and teachers about economy and education and the future of us all. It is a scary time to be an educator.
But man... are we needed.
So my main goals when embarking upon this Masters Program centered around reaching those that have often been deemed unreachable -- by themselves and by others. I wanted to learn how to engage them, connect with them, teach them, reignite that flame of passion for learning in my students and therefore in myself. Lofty.
But I refuse to lower those lofty goals. I couldn't live with that, personally... to settle for less than what I have decided upon for myself, and to settle for lower expectations for kids. So here comes the metaphor. I'm not only a lover of literature and a writer, but an English teacher. There's gotta be a metaphor. I had to find the right knowledge and the right practices to build the strongest foundational steps to help kids climb up to those lofty goals. Yeah... it might sound lame, but the metaphor is a staircase. Hey! Langston Hughes used it... "Well son, I'll tell you. Life for me ain't been no crystal stair." So my metaphor isn't just a staircase, it's Langston Hughes' staircase.
We look for that crystal staircase -- the "fix it" formula couched in initiatives and programs that will cure our ills. But it doesn't exist. Not in my life as an educator. But we learn from the tacks and the splinters and the places where the carpet's torn. We want to be given a complete staircase with gleaming bannisters. We have to decide on the steps and put them painstakingly into place. This Master's program has helped me to look at the steps that are needed to build the staircase, solidly and with purpose, to get to that lofty destination. I have learned strategies to accurately assess students' skills and motivation when they come to me, to manage the class as a whole so I can better address individual student learning needs, to engage them in the reading and writing process, to better encourage and challenge them as readers and writers and whole people, to seek out and incorporate understanding of their unique backgrounds into my teaching, to develop learning opportunities that make them problem solvers ready to tackle whatever new skill-set the future will demand of them, to hone and embrace my own reading and writing practice, and to balance the demands of home, teaching and learning. Lots of steps toward those lofty goals.
So in the last four years I've risen to be stronger as a single mom, risen to be more confident as a writer, have been bruised from the slips and falls of professional frustration and moments of feeling lost, learned to accept the help of others to find my way, and have regained some lost altitude by building some pretty load-bearing steps... complete with those illuminated corners and restful landings.
My professional goals were lofty -- based on my experience as an urban educator, but lofty nonetheless. I am still an optimist. This is true, and I embrace that look-for-the-bright-side part of myself, but I must admit that I have been tempted to falter at times along the way. Unsupported initiatives with promise have failed. Children have begun to absorb the fear and uncertainty exuded by their parents and teachers about economy and education and the future of us all. It is a scary time to be an educator.
But man... are we needed.
So my main goals when embarking upon this Masters Program centered around reaching those that have often been deemed unreachable -- by themselves and by others. I wanted to learn how to engage them, connect with them, teach them, reignite that flame of passion for learning in my students and therefore in myself. Lofty.
But I refuse to lower those lofty goals. I couldn't live with that, personally... to settle for less than what I have decided upon for myself, and to settle for lower expectations for kids. So here comes the metaphor. I'm not only a lover of literature and a writer, but an English teacher. There's gotta be a metaphor. I had to find the right knowledge and the right practices to build the strongest foundational steps to help kids climb up to those lofty goals. Yeah... it might sound lame, but the metaphor is a staircase. Hey! Langston Hughes used it... "Well son, I'll tell you. Life for me ain't been no crystal stair." So my metaphor isn't just a staircase, it's Langston Hughes' staircase.
We look for that crystal staircase -- the "fix it" formula couched in initiatives and programs that will cure our ills. But it doesn't exist. Not in my life as an educator. But we learn from the tacks and the splinters and the places where the carpet's torn. We want to be given a complete staircase with gleaming bannisters. We have to decide on the steps and put them painstakingly into place. This Master's program has helped me to look at the steps that are needed to build the staircase, solidly and with purpose, to get to that lofty destination. I have learned strategies to accurately assess students' skills and motivation when they come to me, to manage the class as a whole so I can better address individual student learning needs, to engage them in the reading and writing process, to better encourage and challenge them as readers and writers and whole people, to seek out and incorporate understanding of their unique backgrounds into my teaching, to develop learning opportunities that make them problem solvers ready to tackle whatever new skill-set the future will demand of them, to hone and embrace my own reading and writing practice, and to balance the demands of home, teaching and learning. Lots of steps toward those lofty goals.
So in the last four years I've risen to be stronger as a single mom, risen to be more confident as a writer, have been bruised from the slips and falls of professional frustration and moments of feeling lost, learned to accept the help of others to find my way, and have regained some lost altitude by building some pretty load-bearing steps... complete with those illuminated corners and restful landings.