So far this semester, I have held it together pretty well. Although everyone warned me about how difficult October is for the teaching assistants in our graduate program, I wasn't feelin' it! I was smooth sailing, prepared for the storm. Then, the last week of October came around. Within that week, SO MUCH HAPPENED, and consequently, I ended up publicly sobbing three times in one week. As I have mentioned before, I am a VERY blue personality; blue to the point that is my biggest strength and biggest weakness, but sobbing like that in front multiple people is not something one would normally see me do. Needless to say, the last week of October pushed me beyond my limits; however, I learned a valuable, LIT lesson from my exhausting week thanks to my pedagogy and communication professor, Karen Anderson-Lain, and bell hooks.
I have mentioned before that I often become frustrated with my COMM 2060 (Performance of Literature) students due to their low expectations of themselves and nonchalant behavior, and I have been reflexive in thinking about what I am doing wrong to have created this environment. However, as I mentioned in my last post, I began to feel better about it after one of my students came to give me some constructive feedback, but then I had another bad week in that class and imposter syndrome set in once again.
For the poetry performance, I had a student perform a poem by Langston Hughes about the walls of oppression around a black man and how in the end, the speaker is enlightened and encourages the black community to break down those walls. He set the scene by creating a physical barrier with tables and chairs, but just started at me while he recited his poem. I reminded him that he must have deliberate staging movements, performative aspects, and these things would be hard to do behind such a constricted barrier. So, I suggested that he widen the barrier, or possibly use string to make a small box around him. In response to my suggestion, one of my black students spoke up to say that I don't know what it's like being a black man, and that my suggestion isn't correct. He then became passionate and the other black students in the room joined him in saying I don't know what it's like being black in this world and shouldn't speak on it.
I was shocked by this response as I would never speak on behalf of another's identity and say that I know another's experience. I responded to my student by saying that I, indeed, did NOT know what it's like to be black; rather, I was offering a suggestion from a teaching perspective as I am the grader and know the requirements for the performance. My student performing thanked me and sat back down, but I still felt very strange and offended that my students thought I would ever do such a thing after I have spent so much time establishing myself as open-minded, open-hearted, and very aware of my privilege. I thought through this all day, and I thought about all of the negative experiences my students may have had with white teachers in their educational experience in which they felt silenced as I did in that one singular moment.
In "Teaching to Transgress," bell hooks tells us to encourage conversations about identity and embrace the painful conversations in order to learn and create an open environment. With this amazing work in front of me, there I sat feeling discouraged and as though I have missed the connection with my students. Upon telling my class about the situation, Dr. Anderson-Lain told me to "suck it up," lean into those uncomfortable conversations, and to acknowledge that I must be doing something right if my students felt comfortable enough to speak about their experience and empower one another as they did. This piece of advice was what I needed to turn that moment into something positive, something constructive, and something LIT.
I walked down the hall on that following Thursday feeling nervous, hoping that my students still liked me and did not see me as another narrow-minded white teacher with the "I have a black friend!" mentality. But by some divine intervention, I heard my class from the hallway talking about how they love the class and enjoy coming to recitation because it puts them in a good mood. My face LIT up as I walked in, and most of them shouted "Hey, Madie!" That's when I knew I should have looked at Tuesday's class through a bell hooks lens and embraced the pain. I am blue, after all, feelings are my thing!
#It'sMADLit
Madie, I think it's great that you were able to find a way to lean into that hard place and come out of it feeling like your student-instructor relationship is doing better. I think moments like these are important for understanding how your pedagogy and curated class climate impact your students- hooks might say this example is exciting because your students were interested in communicating their experiences. That experience with your students overall seems to have had a great impact on you, I hope you are able to now see the trust that has become a part of this class culture because I don't think your students would have shared if they didn't feel as though you'd be willing to consider their feedback.
ReplyDeleteMadie -
ReplyDeleteI first would like to thank you for sharing this with all of us in Pedagogy. As I reflected upon your experience, it reminded me of Palmer's discussion about vulnerability and identity from a few weeks back. The vulnerability we experience as teachers is much like that of a performer, in that our bodies are on display for critique as well as every word that comes from our mouths. As our bodies stand before our classes to speak, we also bare our identity. In this instance, you perceived your identity, the person you are far beyond that classroom, as being judged. I can speak for myself and say that being judged makes me feel powerless. Through this reflection, I was able to understand the emotions evoked as well as appreciate your grace, demonstrated in the way you handled this, and willingness to be reflexive.
Madie,
ReplyDeleteI definitely missed the warning about the chaos of October. But, even if I had heard it, I wonder if things would have changed for me. I am a goner.
As a green, I admire your blueness. I do have some blue in me, but it is elusive and perhaps not as empowering as yours sounds to be. I can relate because I feel I can somewhat be more myself with my COMM 2060 class. I had some reservations about my feedback for performances and worried about spending too much time on one person. I think for my next time around, if I TA for 2060 again, I would set up a timer and map out exactly how much time each student should get. Therefore, I wonder if I policed too much of my own input, but it still felt effective as the students shared their input with one another.
I’d like to be Devil’s Advocate for a second. How do you know that you have been able to establish yourself as open-minded and open-hearted with your students? I ask this, given people can have very different perceptions of the same behavior, words, or actions due to their positionality. So, while it seems obvious to one that they are showing signs of a trait, it may read very differently to someone else.