To Oppress and To Be Oppressed

Grad school is hard.

What has made it so much harder is my continuous realization of my positionality within academic settings, specifically in my classroom. Reading bell hooks this week has opened my eyes to my positionality in the classroom in many ways. My own embodiment of a Hispanic woman carries weight. Even so, I still carry my own set of privileges to “pass” in most settings – I can very much hide aspects of my ethnicity if I need to or want to. In many ways, this embodiment has been a point of struggle and freedom for me.

As a Hispanic woman, graduate school has been a bit of a bizarre experience. Drawing on Freire’s concept of the oppressors and the oppressed, I have found it uncomfortable, to say the least, to operate in a position of a teacher and student. I hold a position of authority as the teacher of my students while simultaneously holding a position of a student, who are often the people on the margins through their own silence and oppression. Throw some gender and racial marginalization into the mix and you have a tangled, complicated intersectionality cocktail!

bell hooks brought up some important questions for me as a teacher:

Am I creating a classroom environment where each student and their individual experiential knowledge is acknowledged, affirmed, and valued?

Am I doing  enough to resist the traditional oppressive systems of education as a teacher and a student?

Am I acknowledging, affirming, and valuing my own positionality as a teacher and a student?

Man, bell hooks really knows how to create an existential crisis.

bell hooks’ Teaching to Transgress has given me some insight about how to navigate through my positionality as a teacher and a student. Freire and hooks dialogue with the idea of education as a practice of freedom, this idea of engaging in critical awareness and active participation in the classroom. By entering the classroom as Subjects, we can create an identity of resistance to the traditional oppressive systems of education, such as the banking model of education. I mean, come on. What a revolutionary idea, right?!

As I reflected on this, I was thinking about how I could go about creating a classroom where education is a practice of freedom for both my students and me. The idea of “authority of experience” resonated with me as a critical strategy that can bring awareness and active participation in the classroom. hooks described the “authority of experience” as a way to “value her own experience as a way of knowing and understanding” (p. 90). In my classroom, I can teach with my “authority of experience”. I want to be able to share my own awareness of my positionality as a teacher and a woman of color, along with the struggles and freedoms that my positionality entails. Our individual experiences are not only valid, but important to share in the classroom. We should be able to teach while acknowledging the experiences of others, to ignore our experiences would be detrimental to our students’ liberation.

It can be difficult to be a part of a city or institution that does not represent you. In the words of bell hooks, it can be painful. I grew up in El Paso, TX. If you have never visited, El Paso is a border town to Ciudad Juarez, Mexico. It is a huge city with a deep history, rich culture, and loving connection to its sister city, Juarez. It is a place where nearly 80% of the population is Hispanic. When I moved away from home for the first time at 18 years old, I experienced culture shock in the small college town of Denton, TX. In an odd way, I felt like a marginalized person for the first time in Denton, TX and UNT. For the first time in my life, I lived somewhere where statistically, I was the minority. I became hyperaware of my embodiment, particularly my ethnicity.

Throughout my undergraduate career, I can count on one hand the number of Hispanic professors that I have taken courses with. In our own department, I do not see myself in my mentors. Maybe the oppressive systems of education have failed us. Maybe it is easier to be complacent in this failure. But I don’t think bell hooks would allow for that. Instead, I think hooks would be particularly interested in how we can work to collectively resist the oppressive systems of education and engage in a transformative pedagogy. An engaged pedagogy that can not only empower myself as a teacher and student, but my own students as well.

To fighting the good fight.

#eyeswideopen

r-e-s-p-e-c-t find out what it means to me

I’m somewhat in disbelief about the fact that this is the tenth week of school. That means that I have nine weeks of grad school under my belt. Nine weeks of learning, or at least trying to learn, how to balance school, work, and a social life. (what’s that?) This half of the semester has been unlike anything I could’ve expected. People warned me that grad school was crazy, and I kept hearing “oh man just wait until October.” But as much as I’ve been dealing with this chaotic month, I’ve found pockets of relief throughout. I’ve been reflecting a lot about where I began some ten weeks ago. At the beginning of this year, so many things seemed frightening. The idea of grading intimidated me, controlling a classroom for 50 minutes seemed terrifying, and the idea impromptu speeches was daunting to me. But ten weeks later I now have a different outlook on all of these things. Dare I say that I’ve almost survived the dreaded October??

Looking back on these past ten weeks, I noticed a transitional point concerning my outlook within the classroom. When the time of impromptu speeches came around, I was optimistic and hopeful that my students would do well. While some excelled in their organization and delivery of their speeches, others fell short of this. I came to the realization that I was going to have to fail some of my students. *yikes* Obviously, I knew this would be the case throughout my time as a TA, but the reality of my position truly hit when listening to those less than exceptional speeches.

I was talking to my dad about my student’s speeches, and I was sharing with him the trouble I was having with grading. I was explaining that I almost felt bad failing some students because I’ve never been in this position before. I had been a history tutor back in my undergrad for 2 years, but that didn’t involve me grading students. This was new territory for me. I wanted my students to do well and pass their assignments. My dad then asked me, “do you care about your students liking you or your students learning and being challenged?” I knew the right answer. I knew my role didn’t guarantee that I would be liked. I slowly realized that I was looking at myself as the "bad guy" now. 

And then I had a lightbulb moment.

All of these worries and concerns boiled down to this one idea- I wanted my students to like me. I’ve come to the realization the Palmer was right when he talks about the notion of being liked in the classroom. He notes, “the fear I want to get rid of is rooted in my need to be popular with young people- a need that may be endemic among people who become teachers but one that keeps us from serving our students well” (p. 50). Man, oh man did this ring true for me. I knew I needed to rid myself of the mentality of wanting my students to like me. I knew I would encounter students who didn’t like my teaching approach or those who were completely disengaged from the class in general. How would I be a good educator if I was focused on if my students liked me or not? 

Of course, I want my students to like me, but I realized I had been blurring the notion of being liked and being respected. I realized I needed to understand this distinction in order to move forward with my position in the classroom. I want my students to respect the decisions I make in the classroom; whether that's what I lecture on, what activities we do, or how I grade assignments. If this were a movie, this would’ve been the scene where I’d pick myself up by the bootstraps and had a montage playing behind me that showed my shifting mentality. *Cue respect by Aretha Franklin* Despite the lack of background music, I saw this as a transitional point in my teaching perspective. 

Yes, some of my students failed their impromptu speech. Yes, I gave them that grade. And yes, I’m okay if they don’t like me because of it. I have high expectations for my students. I want them to do well and earn their grades. Hence, why I offfered redos yet the majority did not take advantage of them. I’m not going to pass them because I feel guilty or bad for failing them. I want to hold them at high expectations and help them get there. It wouldn’t be fair to myself or them if I simply handed out passing grades. I am choosing to serve them well by letting go of the notion of being liked and holding them to the expectations I'm confident they can reach. 

I know this is just the beginning of my time teaching students throughout these next 2 years. I’m glad Palmer and my dad could assist in helping me navigate through my perspectives on grading and teaching. 

#andthatstheT

My Personal Student from Hell (Or so I Thought?)

I don’t know about y’all, but after reading Parker Palmer’s The Courage to Teach, specifically the chapter that talks about the student from hell, I had a specific student come to mind. See, but my own personal student from hell does not fit any universal archetype, they are not a stereotypical disengaged or outright disruptive student. No, no, no, it is never that simple for me. In fact, in many ways, my student is a puzzling, paradoxical conglomeration from hell. Or so I thought.

Let me give you some context. I’ve had issues with this student from the first few weeks of class. Leading up to interpersonal week, this student had increasingly begun to use their phone in class – but at least had the courtesy to attempt to hide it from me. On the first day of interpersonal week, they outright began texting and using Snapchat on their phone for the entire first half of the class, which was a lecture-based discussion. Following this lecture, I had my students engage in an activity that required them to get up and walk around the classroom – in which this student promptly got up out of their seat and walked right out of class. Let me tell you, I was crushed. I could not stop thinking about what had happened for days. I was frustrated, confused, and even personally hurt by my student’s decision to outwardly use their phone for the entire first half of class and then decide to ditch the last half of it. Is it me?! Am I that boring?! Are my classes that excruciating to be in?!

I didn’t know how to respond. Right after that class, I decided to send my student an email to let them know that phone use is prohibited in class and since they also left during the middle of class without notice, I would be counting them absent. To which my student responded, “That’s fine.”

YIKES.

It was during Impromptu Presentation week that things took a turn. On the day that my personal student from hell had to present, they came up to me and told me “I’ll take the zero.” They had decided to simply opt out of presenting their impromptu speech! At this point, I had accepted this student as my own personal student from hell, disengaged and did not care.

After the week of impromptu presentations, I announced that students who received a 70 or lower on their presentation could visit me during my office hours to present again for a higher grade. Immediately after that class ended, my personal student from hell approached me to ask if this opportunity applied to them. I said yes (technically a zero is lower than a 70, after all). The following class day, they showed up to my office hours, presented, and I was able to speak with them a little more. We had a conversation about Advocacy in Action and their group’s progress so far, and though the conversation was brief, it was friendly. I was surprised. Clearly, this student cared enough about their grade to come to my office hours and present in front of me and my peers. Had I misjudged them?

Reading Palmer’s passage about the student from hell re-conceptualized everything for me. Palmer stated, "Students are marginalized people in our society. The silence that we face in the classroom is the silence that has always been adopted by people on the margin – people who have reason to fear those in power and have learned that there is a safety in not speaking.” (p. 45) I have no way of knowing what my personal student from hell is going through, I have no way of knowing what their educational background is, or what personal difficulties they may carry. I don’t know if I can break their silence, or their perceived disengagement, but I do know that I can try. I can try to employ critical pedagogy in my classroom and teach with my authentic identity and integrity. Through this, I can only hope that I can make a difference in my student’s life.

As I reflected on this reading in Palmer’s The Courage to Teach, I see what he meant by the idea of teaching being heartbreaking. You can give yourself fully to the cause and you still may not see any results. But that doesn’t mean that you can’t keep trekking on.

#eyeswideopen

Learning from Your Students is LIT!

As a teacher, feedback to students is embedded in the practice and a constructive tool that contributes to their learning; however, this semester we have learned from the testimonies of Karen Anderson-Lain to the work of Ken Bain that feedback from our students is a constructive tool for us in order to grow as well. This week, I learned that firsthand. Although this week consisted of rainy skies and my teary eyes, I managed to find a LIT moment with one of my students; a moment of learning for both of us that I am grateful for.

This last week, I began feeling very disappointed in my COMM 2060 (Performance of Literature) students as most of them collectively set low expectations for themselves, ask me outlandish hypothetical questions regarding doing poorly on assignments so they can prepare for failure, and they are always ready to put in minimal effort with each passing assignment. I understand that this class is new and nerve-racking for many students; therefore, from the very beginning of the semester I did my best to create an open, accepting, and energetic environment in which everyone would feel comfortable speaking up and performing in. However, lately I have been feeling as though I may have failed to establish that I mean serious business while enjoying the class simultaneously. Week by week, it has been pulling teeth to get some of them off of their phones, to turn in their assignments, and to do their assignments correctly. However, when they do participate, they thank me and state that my explanations and activities are very helpful. Like, can't they just always be like that?

Today, I came into class with a major headache and low patience for any bullshit from my students. I spent the entire class answering their questions about the upcoming performance and concerns regarding previous grades. I did whatever I could to help them including giving them MANY second chances, extensive feedback, and even extensions for important assignments. I told them that despite the last few weeks, I will not tolerate any bullshit or half-assed work for the next major performance and dramatic analysis paper. My students gave me looks of fear, and said they understood. At the end of the class, they thanked me and left; however, I felt emotionally exhausted and like I have been too easy on them. I had been feeling this way for some time.

As I was walking out, one of my students stopped me. He asked me if he could ask me some questions about the paper, and if he could give me his opinion about something. After I said yes, he said "I think you are doing a great job. You are a damn good TA and we all love you. It's just.... it gets to a point where you have to draw a line in your graciousness and stand your ground or people will take advantage of how nice you are and how much you want to help us." After he said that, I paused for a second. I reflected on how I have been feeling, and even thought about how this was not an issue at all in my COMM 1010 class. I realized then that I was holding their hands because I did not want them to fail as this class was uncomfortable for a lot of people; however, I realized that my graciousness and blue heart had set the precedent so that many of my students could take advantage of me. After I had a moment of reflection and thanked my student for his honesty, I helped him mentally process his analysis paper.

As Palmer stated in his book, "The Courage to Teach," teaching is heart work and "teaching holds a  mirror to the soul" (p. 3). From our week in Pedagogy with Palmer, I learned a few things: Palmer is MY MAN, I feel emotionally exhausted from teaching COMM 2060 because I am putting too much of my heart in to it, and that since teaching is a mirror of the soul, my value of empathy was being reflected to my students. In other words, I am teaching them who I am: someone who cares deeply for others' and their success, and will put others' happiness before their own. I have always been a huge feeler and too caring for my own good. Although having empathy is my greatest strength, it is also my greatest weakness.

This conversation in conjunction with Palmer's text constituted a critical teaching moment for me. Talking with my student both confirmed my feelings, taught me the significance of student feedback, and he helped me see that I did need to implement some changes. Although most parts of my week were crowded with stress and cloudy skies, this was certainly an enlightening moment, or a LIT moment if you will. I now know that my tendency to be too gracious comes from good intention and care for others; however, this can be harmful to me in the classroom. From my wonderful student's constructive feedback, I saw the importance of student feedback first-hand, I confirmed my fears, I am now more than ready to make changes to improve myself and my class, and I feel confident in my abilities as a teacher. After all, self-reflexivity is what the best college teachers do!

#It'sMADLit

The Vibes are Hitting with Ms.WittheS%#!

Let's be real - the discussion about end of semester evaluations in pedagogy had me down. If it isn't enough to constantly inflict self-torture as a product of my stereotype vulnerability, I also have to face the parrel of SPOT evaluations that are proven to be discriminatory in nature. The discussion stemming from Bain's words on evaluations triggered me to replay a comment I just so happened to hear from a student in my 2020 class - "she scares me."

To be fair, to be black to many is to be scary. Add in a role that offers some level of authority, a deep understanding for a body of information, and the natural power distance of a college classroom and you have - me, a black woman who happens to be a TA, with a desire to share my knowledge of communication who just so happens to be standing in front (literally) of 27 very unfamiliar faces. Danell's addresses race when it comes to the perception your students will have of you, however, I failed to extend this advice to a truth that I know all too well - black women who are assertive are scary.

Although I have no historical knowledge of where this belief comes from, it has followed me throughout my life and I know it will be an ever-looming theme. I raise this point to say, although my student may believe "she scares me", it is me who is scared. Scared to fail not just my students, but myself, my family, and my people.

Palmer addresses the importance of fear and being reflexive especially when it comes to looking with yourself as a teacher. Upon reflection, I realize my assertiveness and fear come from a place of genuine care for the art of teaching. I am assertive (or to my student scary) because I am confident I have the ability to expand their knowledge of communication and I (although to some determent) have a commitment to doing so no matter how painful or forceful it may be. I am scared because I not only have others watching me but understand the seriousness of my position and commitment to my students.

Although this feedback was unsolicited and premature, as the halfway point of the semester approached, it gave me the confidence to solicit feedback from my students regarding what is going well and things I can improve upon. The student's responses across all sections were similar to how some people view vegetables - overall undesirable but an excellent source of nourishment for those who ingest them.

Improvements, such as slowing down on the slide deck or giving clear instructions for those who come when activities have already started, were undesirable but insightful as I finally had a window to those I felt disconnected with. The things that went well for students were equally as insightful but particularly nourishing as I finally had confirmation that for the last 8 weeks I have not been making a complete fool of myself. There were notes about making quiet students feel comfortable, incorporating interesting information, and creating a classroom environment that is supportive and non-judgemental.

I now realize that all the things that students enjoyed, were things that took serious effort to achieve and were very scary to employ. I wasn't sure if letting students ease into the discussion was right. I wasn't sure if incorporating information related to the topics but beyond the scope of the topic would please my students. I definitely didn't know that by being my authentic self I would create a classroom climate worth noting.

My favorite among all the feedback was "the vibes r just hitting". I couldn't have said it better myself. The vibes are hitting indeed my young scholar, they are hitting so well I wake up each Monday morning with deep intention and motivation to get in front of my favorite most unfamiliar faces. I have no technique, no scholarly pedagogical philosophy like Dewey or Freire but I care and my care makes me scared. Lucky for Ms.WittheS%!# - the recipe for good vibes is a lot of caring with a dash of scare. And if nothing good comes from SPOT evaluations I know I can revel in the fact that SPOT evaluations don't measure vibes.

October Really Is SPOOKY SEASON!

October took on a whole new level of spooky for me this year.... I mean, HOLY HELL. Graduate students in their second year had advised me to be ready for the haunted hayride that is October, but I was certainly not ready. Although this month thus far has been spooky and dark for me at times, I found a moment of light; a LIT moment, if you will. Surprisingly, my moment of light occurred during the intersectional challenge of Fish week and impromptu speeches in COMM 1010. I know right, spooky.

During Fish week, we had to prep for a debate over his teaching philosophy, and be prepared to debate the following week. This process was surprisingly difficult and included many road bumps for my group, and left me feeling emotionally taxed as I have such a blue personality. Nevertheless, we powered through, and the debate was spectacular (it was a success for our group if you ask me). Most importantly, this debate was just another thing that contributed to a difficult week for me, and I was beginning to feel imposter syndrome and excessively fatigued. However, I did learn an important part of my teaching philosophy from Fish week.

Although there are facets of Fish's philosophy with which I disagree, his aversion to acknowledge difference in the classroom stands out to me in particular. According to Fish, we should regard all students as equal citizens that are present to learn disregarding their backgrounds, differences, and values. WHAT?! It's 2019, how could I follow this philosophy? I simply couldn't, and impromptu week in COMM 1010 demonstrated that I could not and should not follow this part of Fish's philosophy.

I am sure most of you feel the same way when I say that impromptu week creates a new collective feeling in your classroom; one of high tension and high anxiety. As students got up in front of the class and either nailed it, bombed it, or entirely shied away from it, I found myself mentally giving each student an equal playing ground; in other words, I held all students to the same standard. However, I had a student come up to me before the speeches began to tell me that she had turrets, and I had another student tell me that they have Aspergers and are terrified of speaking in crowds. Aside from these two students, I had multiple foreign exchange students with language barriers who became fixated on finding the correct word for their thoughts in English. With this being the case, HOW on earth could I follow Fish's philiopshy and regard them all as equal, and simply disregard who they are? The answer is simple: I can't.

Instead, I took on Dannel's philosophy of democracy and took into account their backgrounds, who they are, where they are from, and/or their neurological divergence from their peers. Additionally, I simply graded on if they met the requirements of the impromptu speech structure and if they met the time limit requirements. As most of my students were terrified and felt defeated, they were so relieved to discover that they did not do as horribly as they thought. I saw their faces light up, and I have to say that it LIT up my week as well.

Fish week in particular was LIT for me because I saw some of my students feel proud of themselves, or they had the courage to redo their impromptu presentation; furthermore, I learned a significant facet of my teaching philosophy, and it was so enlightening. Sorry, Fish, can't say you're the Fish in the sea for me!

#It'sMADLit

#thanksforcomingtomyTEDtalk

If you asked me a year ago what I thought I would be doing after graduation, I would have told you I was looking for a job in nonprofit communication and not considering graduate school. And the thought of teaching? Not even on my radar. After years of watching my parents come home from teaching, listening to the war stories shared between my aunts and them, teaching was something I never thought I would want to do as a profession. I don't know if y'all have felt it yet, but this stuff is HARD. And talking to thirty students for an hour all by myself, at least twice a day? Past-Payton could not handle the truth.

I don't know if you've noticed yet, but I can be pretty quiet. Not shy... I think I grew out of this general communication apprehension 4 years and a communications degree later. But I wouldn't rank public speaking as one of my top ten favorite things to do. Maybe not even the top 100. While I have the skill set and knowledge to approach any speech or presentation confidently, I've never been able to get over this public speaking anxiety that has consumed me for years. 

First, it started when I forgot the words to a solo I sang in church. And then in sixth grade, my apprehension got worse as I spoke up in class and was ridiculed by my teacher for having the wrong answer (or at least I thought). I grew less shy throughout high school, but it wasn't until I got to college that I truly became confident in my ability to communicate with and in front of others well. 

As I start a new "journey", one I never thought I would, I have to admit - I was pretty nervous to teach. Not only did I have very little teaching experience, despite the support and encouragement from my undergraduate professors, but public speaking just wasn't something I thought I could do everyday. Everyone was right when they said you can't really prepare enough for what you'll expect in the classroom until you're finally there. After the first day, and my realization that I would be doing this again, twice a week, for 15 weeks, it became easier to move past being nervous and focus on the task at hand.

While it definitely isn't always that easy to overcome communication anxiety, Dannels discussion of the question "how do I manage communication anxieties" was helpful not only in encouraging students how to overcome anxiety but encouraging to myself, the teacher! My favorite piece of advice from this chapter was the classic "fake it til you make it" idea, but with an interesting twist. Dannels said, "you might not feel confident, but if you speak confidently and with passion for your topic and if you find your confidence gifts, you not only begin to assure your students that you are not afraid (and are confident), but you also begin to convince yourself" (p. 88). 

As I continue to teach my students about communication anxiety as they finish their big impromptu speech presentations, I am thankful for my experiences and the very long journey I have had to get me here - at a place where I am ok with teaching in front of a class full of students, and enjoying it more each day. I hope my stories can not only teach them, but encourage them to engage in this opportunity to grow as communicators, and we can only really do this by COMMUNICATING! (how meta)

If you asked me today what I want to do after graduation, well... I don't know what I would say. It's only the seventh week after all! But I can say that I've already watched myself grow (and fail) tremendously and I am so thankful for this experience.

Payton

#thanksforcomingtomyTEDtalk   

Expanding New Horizons

I chose the hashtag “expandingnewhorizons” for this class because I’m really interested in how teachers can help broaden the intellectual horizons of their students. I’m particularly interested in how teachers can help students who have grown up in racist homes come to a fuller understanding of topics such as racism and hegemony. I know many people, including several of my students and people in my personal life, who simply haven’t had the life experiences to help them understand that racism is still a relevant problem. I believe that teaching Communication Studies gives me an opportunity to reach those people and help them see past their narrow lived experiences. Given that context, Fish was a very interesting read for me.

Fish’s primary argument, which he repeats many times throughout his book, is that teachers should do their job: no more, no less. According to Fish, then, I should not even try to expand the intellectual horizons of students, as doing so is overstepping. My job is to “academize” the subject by removing all value judgments from the conversation and focusing only on the rhetoric-- how each side is making its point (Fish, 2008, pg. 27). If I bring topics of conversation up such as racism, sexism, etc. I am stepping outside the boundaries of my job, and should be brought back in line. From what I can tell, Fish would have me teach Communication Studies simply by focusing on how students can become better communicators-- that is, the steps which they should learn and be able to follow in order to “master” communication. We could analyze various arguments that others have made to see how effectively they are communicating their point. Any larger discussions about moral or ethical implications of communication, however, should be strictly avoided. I would be able to show my students different examples of communication in which racism is a topic. I should not, however, try in any way to persuade my students that racism is an immoral thing which should be avoided (though Fisher doesn’t care if that is my personal belief.) I could examine the rhetoric of conversations about race and the historical conversation about race, but asking my students to make their own value judgments regarding racism (or any other controversial topic) should be avoided. Any discussion of those topics without academizing them is doing someone else’s job. I should stick purely to academia and let politicians, religious leaders, lawyers, parents, etc. do their jobs-- which involve educating about moral or political dilemmas. Fish later explicitly cautions, “Remember always what a university is for--the transmission of knowledge and the conferring of analytical skills-- and resist the temptation to inflate the importance of what goes on in its precincts” (Fish, 2008, pg. 79).

Fish truly believes that teachers who discuss anything beyond their subject are in dereliction of their duty. I can sort of see where he’s coming from here. Certainly teachers shouldn’t teach other things at the expense of teaching what they’ve been hired to teach. They also shouldn’t use their course as a way to proselytize their own beliefs, whatever they may be. I believe, however, that it is possible to help students develop their critical thinking abilities for themselves without crossing the border into trying to dictate what they believe. In fact, if students are taught to dissect things but not how to apply the results in their lives, I think that the teacher has failed. It reminds me of story problems-- it’s one thing for students to memorize the times tables, but it’s another thing entirely for them to be able to apply the principle to real world situations. The public school curriculum in math is created to help students be able to use math in their day to day lives. I believe that each subject is capable of facilitating that extension in students’ lives. Communication Studies, however, has a unique opportunity to help people understand the world around them in a more complex and nuanced way. And, in contrast to Fish, I do believe that students should learn core principles in school-- from respect to how to not be racist.

So how do teachers walk the line between teaching students to think critically without imposing their own beliefs on their students? I believe that the most important thing here is representation. As I am from a white, middle class background, I need to be intentional about inviting other voices into the conversation. This can be done in several ways, from inviting my students to share their experiences to using scholarly sources and media centering people with a wide range of positionalities. Another thing I can do to help students gain a fuller picture of situations is to examine multiple dimensions of any issue. And, of course, it is important to remember that my job as a teacher isn’t to convert people’s ways of thinking into ones that I approve of. Instead, I hope to teach them to think and reason for themselves so they can apply what they learn not only from my class, but from any class they take, even if their application looks different than mine does.

What's With Fish (Week)

People told me October is usually hard and I don't necessarily feel like it is, but with that said I also have an exception to that statement- Fish week was absolutely exhausting. I was completely thrown off by certain things that happened over the course of the week which is weird for me to type out since there wasn't really anything specific that was off while I was teaching, and Monday was pretty much normal. Tuesday afternoon was the turning point and what I would actually say was a crash point, a point at which I had to deal with something involving a student that I wasn't completely prepared for, and I found myself concerned with that moment for the rest of the week.

I can boil the week down to a simple phrase: it was taxing. 

This last week was definitely one where I felt more like chicken little than mother hen, and it wasn't because of a lack planning (on the teaching side) or willingness to engage (as a student). I think the feeling came from trying to navigate how to move forward after an emotional interaction with my student because I kept finding myself thinking about how to help them at times when I wasn't in teacher mode or student mode. I often found myself worrying about the situation at times that seemed unnecessary especially since it wasn't an issue involving concerns for safety. 

Reading this someone might think "how does any of this relate to Fish?" In many ways that particular situation had no relation to Fish at all, but for whatever reason this situation had me thinking about certain aspects of Fish's pedagogy and some of his examples all week and I felt the need to do better. What do I mean by this? I mean I've recognized more so during the last week how getting to know students can be helpful when trying to help them through something they struggle with whereas Fish's examples seemed to put unnecessary pressure on instructor-student relationships. I looked at the example where Fish talks about throwing the book to get the point across and immediately thought that the example seemed too aggressive and also is not how to help someone who is struggling. Was the situation with my student different? 100% but I knew that my best bet was to adapt to the needs of my student instead of engaging in conversation that made them feel unheard or like they couldn't bring up concerns.

Fish's pedagogy includes a teach to test mentality, but there are some things that people can face as instructors that have nothing to do with the material the class is about. Fish would argue it's not the job of the instructor to teach those lessons, but personally I would disagree. I can name professors that I had during my undergraduate classes who have helped me understand how to be a productive learner or offered solutions when I felt uneasy about something, but if they had embraced the pedagogy that Fish suggests I'm not sure they would have made an impact. Those professors that did make an impact were able to help me piece together my thoughts in a way that was conducive to my learning which I'm grateful for. More than that, I would argue those experiences have given me insight for how to approach problems dealing with certain topics that I'm beginning to see more often.

As a student, a teacher, and in general as a person learning is taking place. I can recognize there are moments where I feel unprepared for whatever type of learning I have to adjust to, and even more where I feel prepared. The experiences I've had over the last week may have been exhausting however my hope is that moving forward I'm better prepared to deal with things that are unexpected, emotional, and significant. I can't say I'll embrace Fish's pedagogy to do this, but I can say I'm aware of it. My goal moving forward is to try to find a way to reframe the idea that the sky is falling as something to work out and work on.

A Seat at the Table with Ms. Wit' the S%#!

As someone who not only loves to cook but also finds cooking as a way to foster community, engage in meaningful conversation (about food or otherwise), and a chance to flex my skills, Susan Wilshire's metaphor of her classes as a great meal made complete sense. When I prepare a session of 1010 or 2020 recitation, I feel much like I do preparing a new recipe. I am throwing together necessary ingredients (concepts) with layers of flavor (entertaining delivery) to then, in turn, invite my students to a seat at my table (discussing and engaging with the concepts).

Similar to cooking for those I dearly care about (as I do for my students and their development), there is much anxiety for the chef. Do my guests enjoy these flavors? Will their pre-existing beliefs and attitudes for these flavors alter their interpretation of my meal? How should I present this meal so my guests are most receptive to it? These are similar questions that arise when I develop a lesson plan however they reflect my anxieties for what students identify as valuable for learning. I place deep consideration in both content and delivery. 

Upon completion, I find myself developing a compilation of the content and activities that foster the knowledge I desire for my students to achieve by the end of our time together. Specifically, I have found myself making a concerted effort to address the content that the course director has planned to assess on the exam (based on the review) as well as information that addresses the topic but in the real-world context. It is important to note that this does not mean the reflection of my real-world context, but instead the reflection of a variety of people's real-world contexts and subsequent experiences that have value.

For example, when we discuss language and it's importance, it is also important to place significance on the implications of language death. Additionally, when discussing listening, why not incorporate strategies from a speaker beyond myself that can improve students listening in everyday life through proposed strategies (not offered in the text). Moreover, to address nonverbals, why not integrate media examples that demonstrate key concepts while addressing student's previous knowledge of the topic?

Tailoring your flavor is not only necessary in the kitchen when preparing a meal for loved ones, but it is also necessary for your students in the classroom. I have learned to not be stuck in my ways or the prescribed recipe but instead, consider too much salt? Add sugar! Too watery? Add flour! Not enough spices? Add red pepper flakes (that s%#! always works!)!

I've come to understand that if I understand my students I will reflect this understanding in my teachings and behavior as their teacher. I will demonstrate trust not only in my abilities to sweeten things or clarify concepts but also trust in my students' own abilities to wrestle with the abstract and unknown. In retrospect, I have identified my most challenging moments of undergraduate were met by moments of "this is why I love this s%#!"! They reflect moments when I was not only receptive to the content but also my own scrutiny and questioning of my own ideas as well as my colleagues. Furthermore, this scrutiny was particularly beneficial in conjunction with the insightful feedback of my instructors.

I invite my students to sit with me as I serve them well-thought-out and developed content that reflects not just the objectives of the course but the problems or issues in life that these concepts can be identified in or challenge. I invite my students to receive my committed interest in their development through the means of insightful feedback and genuine encouragement. I have made it my mission to invite students of various backgrounds to engage in meaningful dialogue (whether to me, their peers, or themselves) that fosters critical thinking and ultimately the transformation of pre-conceived beliefs, attitudes, and values. Furthermore, I wish to invite my students to challenge me to improve and enhance their learning experience. 

In this notion, I am the Solange of teaching. I invite my students to sit with me not only as a distributor of information but #Ms.WitthS%#! - who is with what they need to know and want to know. 

It's Alive!!!

                        
I had a student come to class for the first time in weeks (late but still) and ask what we were doing after I'd given instructions about what to do so we could jump into impromptu presentations. Yes there was a setback, but something more meaningful happened- I saw increased engagement. I noticed multiple students jump in and provide answers before I had the opportunity to collect my thoughts and try to sum up all that was missed leading up to today. For the first time I saw students in my first 1010 class (of the day) have actual conversations with one another without being prompted, and we were still able to start presentations on time!

The class got better as each person got up to do their presentation as well. For most of them today was the first time they had spoken aloud to the whole class and had confidence, or at least faked their way through it. I had made a note of those individuals who shared they had high public speaking anxiety, and even they were able to use the tools that we talked about to give an effective presentation. Today I saw active learning in my classroom instead of in written assignments because each student was able to apply their personal opinions to the speech topics and create outlines using the organizational tools we talked about in class last week.

Leading up to today I had really thought that, for the most part, I had an almost completely detached class since the same 3 or 4 people usually gather the courage to verbally express how they are connecting to the material. Not only was I proven wrong today but I saw life that I hadn't seen before-- I don't think I've ever been so content with being proven wrong. I sat in the back of the classroom while each student stood in front of their peers and delivered content, personality, and life. I heard each of them loud and clear!

There was preparation. There was awareness of social cues. There were students in the audience acting as encouraging bodies. There was application of material to personal anecdotes!

My students showed me how well they were able to apply the material to personal experiences, and I was able to make a note of some of those moments to connect them to future class activities. Not only were my student showing me how they were actively learning, I was able to recognize this with myself when I was taking mental notes planning to incorporate some student examples into future lessons.

As I'm sitting here typing this I just keep thinking to myself "they did the thing!"  I would have loved for this to happen earlier in the semester, but if they at least keep rolling with how they did today I feel confident that each one of my students will be prepared for their next semester, especially those of them who are comm studies majors.

Today was a win. It was the first that I was able to sit back and feel almost completely like there was almost nothing to be concerned about. For the first time this semester, my 12 o'clock 1010 class made me feel like i the sky wouldn't be falling meaning I wouldn't (hopefully won't) be having a bunch of students coming at me at the end of the semester asking how to improve their grades at the last minute, especially for participation. I think I've got this!

Learning to be LIT and With-It!

After accepting the offer to be a teaching assistant, I felt nothing but pure excitement! I remembered having some LIT teaching assistants in my undergraduate career, and I knew immediately that I was going to try my very best to be just like them. However, no matter how many times Karen warned us at orientation, I was still not prepared for certain things that may happen in the classroom that are NOT LIT. We are now in week six, and I have already experienced some moments that I felt I could have done a better job in communicating a message or simple directions for an activity to my class; however, I also believe that it is so important to celebrate little victories, or the LIT moments. 

From our week with Cooper and Simmons (2002), we learned about active learning as well as its importance, effectiveness, how to implement it in our classes, and that it is essential in order to meet students’ need for social interaction within the classroom. Cooper and Simmons (2002) taught us that active learning leads to information retention, higher levels of engagement, and promotes synergy as students must move around the room, speak up in class, or interact with other students. Since completing this reading, I have put myself in the shoes of my students. I imagine myself sitting in Introduction to Communication as a senior, someone who expects a lot out of a class, and/or someone unmotivated. In other words, I try to imagine as many perspectives as possible in order to meet my students' interests and needs, then I create my lesson plans accordingly. 

Although I like to switch it up at times, I have developed a basic structure for my class. I typically begin with a short, discussion-based review with a PowerPoint regarding what students learned in the online lecture. As I am doing this, I do my best to ensure that it is student led, not me simply regurgitating information they should have already learned from the online portion of the course; rather, this is my attempt to examine their understanding and have the class engage in active learning through discussion. In my PowerPoints, I always include popular memes or video examples that demonstrate my with-it-ness, or I ask students to provide me with examples of what these concepts may look like in their lives. Following our brief, interactive review, I initiate a hands-on learning activity of some sort. However, my activity from verbal and nonverbal communication week stuck out to me as a particularly LIT teaching moment.  

I began the activity by randomizing students into groups of three. I informed the teams that they would need an interpreter, a messenger, and a drawer, and I let them delegate these roles within their groups. After students assigned roles, I had all of the interpreters stand on the left side of the room, and I gave them a sketch photo of a UNT sign that I found online; the messengers stood in the middle of the room, and the drawers stood on the right side of the room. I told the class that only the interpreters may see the photo then describe it to their messenger. Next, the messenger would then run to the drawer and relay the information so that the drawer may illustrate what they hear from the messenger. I allowed the messenger to go back and forth as many times as they needed to, and they had 10 minutes for the activity. After the activity, we debriefed as a class on what nonverbals they used to depict their image, what verbals were used, the impact of messengers that went back to their interpreter multiple times, the impact of “noise” when they were speaking to the team members, and the role of perception and language in describing the image. Following the debrief, I had the students take out a sheet of paper and reflect on three key takeaways, their most favorite thing about the class, and their least favorite thing about the class. Not to my surprise, most of my students wrote that they dislike public speaking and the attendance policy. However, I was overjoyed to read that there were three major themes of what the students’ favorite part of the class was: the class discussions, the activities, and “Madie.” 

This semester has had its ups and downs, but I am continuing to learn and adjust more and more everyday as both a student and a teaching assistant. I have the tendency to be pessimistic when I am overwhelmed with stress, but thus far, learning from my mistakes and celebrating my victories has both built my confidence and pushed me one step closer to being a LIT teaching assistant. 

#It’sMADLit