A Note to the Good Girls and Smart Women Within Us All

A note to my Sisters -

When I look into my classrooms, I see both Good Girls and Smart Women. However, these are not separate students - the Good Girls in my class are Smart Women. As questions are posed and discussions unravel, I see Good Girls battling within to further silence not only their voices but ultimately the Smart Women within themselves. This silence comes from a fear of disrupting the status quo of what it means to be feminine and imposing their voices on others, as well as the belief that voice subtracts from their niceness.

While white heterosexual males dominate the classroom without hesitation it is the Good Girls who watch on as if it is a part of a performance, processing what has been said and internalizing their own thoughts. While 'dynamic' African American women ooze with self-confidence and the enate ability to speak their mind to get to the heart of the issue it is the Good Girls that gaze in amazement with a storm cloud of envy brewing within. And through all this, it is me, the teacher who watches the Good Girl in desperation with the hopes to be graced by their voices.

As I watch the Good Girls, I assume my role as a classroom researcher who is continuously evaluating my teaching and my students' learning. I see all the ways in which my classroom practices are not empowering or inclusive to the Good Girl. I never believed that self-actualization could be achieved in the classroom, that through my teaching there is opportunity for students to realize and fulfill their own possibilities. I have come to learn through the Bell and Golombisky reading that I have the tools to help Good Girls reach self-actualization, embrace the Smart Women within them, and realize the value of their voices.

As someone who has never been a Good Girl, I see the importance of engaging in classroom practices that give life to the voices of not just the man's-man or the dynamic students but also Good Girls. To do otherwise is to be oppressive, by further silencing the voices of those who have been socialized to approach communicating their thoughts apprehensively, disvalue their ideas, and undermine the Smart Woman within them.

I also must understand the burden placed on African American women that strips away their innocence and childhood by assuming that they are 'born' Smart Women. This belief is oppressive in nature, reinforces white supremacist capitalist patriarchy, and perpetuates the demonization and hypersexualization of black girls. I make this point to raise awareness of the dangers of the belief that black girls are 'born' to be loud or bossy in nature or 'women' but instead understand they have been socialized to use their voice as a performative strategy to assert their presence in a society that has worked to dismiss their experiences, thoughts, and ideas. Within these black girls, there is envy for the Good Girl who does not have to carry this heavy burden. Envy for the Good Girl who does not carry the at times paralyzing weight of ensuring sexism and racism do not silence their voice any longer.

I, along with hooks, believe in the possibility of true sisterhood between not just black and white women but Smart Women and Good Girls who have yet to embrace the Smart Women within themselves. Through this solidarity, it is my hope that our classrooms can be a site for transformative acts of meaningful dialogue and reflexivity that trickle far beyond the classroom.

With love,

#misswittheS%#!

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.

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. 

Is You Wit' It or Not?

In life, sometimes you win and sometimes you... lose. Well unfortunately for me, I hate losing. I live to succeed, achieve, and accomplish. Overall this sucka-free attitude has worked for me, I have always managed to get s%#! done and avoid what I deem one of the most undesirable human emotions - embarrassment. To avoid embarrassment in the classroom, it is beneficial to be Ms.Wit the S%#! as I am able to be in tune with everything going on all while teaching. "Everything going on" encompasses knowing if I am keeping a steady momentum to keep students engaged, which students are disengaged (and how I can manage that), and also what is working and what is not.

In teaching, sometimes you are wit' it and sometimes you just aren't. Sometimes you end the class feeling accomplished, having given an engaging micro lecture followed by related activities that excite the students. Other times, you fumble the ball. You deliver an obviously cloudly (based on student's expressions) potentially extensive 'micro-lecture', followed by mundane activities or videos that fail to drive the point home. I am only saying this because I have experienced both, both of which I have found to be extremely rewarding experiences when understanding how to navigate the thin line between succeeding and failing in the classroom.

My COMM 2020 group is overall a great group, once I get them moving. We have had great discussions and I have watched them have meaningful interactions with their peers throughout the course of the semester. I have managed to do a pretty good job tailoring the content to what I think they would appreciate and overall benefit from. When preparing for our recitation over language, I was excited! My brain was filled with many ideas that could act as an extension of the lecture but also offer new real-world information. I contacted my dad and aunt, asking them to record a short video greeting the class and briefly explaining the origin of their language - all in their native tongue, Twi.

I kicked off the class showing the short videos, "What better way to talk about language than to start by watching others speak theirs!". Students smiled and some even waved back at the projection! It was a seamless transition into the content that made sense and grabbed the students' attention. After some review of lecture content and an activity prompting them to create their own words, I concluded the session with an interesting topic that is rarely discussed, language death. I played an eight-minute video accompanied with guiding questions for students to answer as they watched (they were easy - but it made them pay attention). The students attentively watched the video and answered the questions, but it was clear that the video was of interest and offered information that they had not previously possessed. To end, students wrote a brief reflection and shared their thoughts with the class. After the recitation, a student commented on how "interesting" recitation she found recitation that day. Well-designed lesson plans like this exemplify what it means to be wit' it - non-stop engaging content that allows the students to leave with something new.

But some days you're not on fire and even if you are, your content just isn't. Just as my 2020 group can be vocal about what they enjoy, they are also pretty good at at least showing what they do not enjoy. Although some can be thrilled about talking about self - others would rather avoid it (kind of like how I would have like to avoid this moment). But for some reason, the lack of enthusiasm did not stop me from attempting to design a lesson plan that left students feeling the benefit of understanding and looking within the self. Dumb of me upon reflection. 18-20-year-olds do not want to deeply reflect on what they think of themselves or 'who they are' and those that are 20+ feel they have a pretty good understanding or at least believe its time to act like it. I know this now - but when I played a video clip about self-esteem by School of Life, I was naive to think it would go well. The students watched in horror (or disinterest) and confusion as the dry British humor went right over their heads. Soon the class was over, but my horror had just begun. "You lost me with the video", "it was creepy", "my neighbor said it was depressing", "sounds like something my therapist would say." At that moment, I realized I can be Ms. Wit the S%#! but sometimes but content just ain't wit' it.

The good thing is, you live to see another day when you fail in the classroom (or at least you have to because being a TA doesn't come with extra lives). Successes AND failures in the classroom are beneficial, as it is in both that I can truly understand my students and how to engage them. Even with a sucka-free attitude, I admit it is okay to not be wit' it, it's okay to always be Tom Brady, it's okay to scare your students (in order to scare yourself) because it makes you a better teacher. I have faith that teaching will teach me a lot, including how to lose - and I'm wit' that.

Whether you find yourself wit' it or not, take it, learn from it, and appreciate it.

Sincerely,
#mswiththes%#!

Ms. Wit' the S%#!

I admit, when I considered what it would take to be a TA, I underestimated what it would require of me. I thought to myself, how many total hours have you spent in a classroom? how many teachers and professors had left lasting impressions? I even went as far as to say 'your grandma was a teacher! It is in your blood Felicity!'. Christ - I finished out my undergrad by developing and facilitating a two-hour training. No pep talk would suffice. It wasn't until I stepped into the classroom for the first time, not as a student or even a presenter, but as an instructor that I fully comprehended my level of preparedness - or lack thereof.

To me, to be a teacher is to be an octopus. No seriously. You must be able to do at least eight things at once all while doing what an instructor is meant to do - teach. In retrospect, I can only laugh at myself. To think all a teacher does is... teach? Seriously Felicity? Girl, you were wrong! I learned quickly that in order to be Ms. Felicity Tutu, the TA, I needed to be Ms. Wit' the S%#!.

Who is Ms. Wit' the S%#! you might ask? She is me expect me with my take on what Dannels referred to as "with-itness" in 8 Questions Teachers Ask. To become Ms. Wit' the S%#!, I had to step away from what I believed being a teacher meant - teaching students important S%#! and remember what teaching really was from my experience in the classroom as a student. Throughout my entire academic career, I had many Mr. and Ms. Wit the S%#!'s. They taught meaningful content while pulling what I now recognize to be the ultimate balancing act.

To be Ms. Wit the S%#!, I realized I needed to not just teach but be able to do so all while managing the classroom, promoting student engagement, utilizing relevant examples based on my personal experience (and pop culture), facilitating thought-provoking discussions, posing challenges (for the overachiever and the student just trying to keep up), establishing purpose in why students should want to learn the information, and displaying positive immediacy behaviors.

This week was a proud week for Ms. Wit the S%#!, I must say. On Monday, I had some side conversations coming from the back of the room from two students throughout a majority of the class. At first, I felt defeated. I even heard "this is stupid (yikes!)". After getting them semi-stimulated with a 'stupid' group activity, I prompted a student-led discussion. Too bad students weren't leading and my friends in the back were still talking. Then it came to me, "do you all have something you guys would like to add?". That's all it took. The talking stopped and Ms. Wit' the Shit was victorious. The student discussion moved, slowly, but movement is a sign of life... right?

Then on Wednesday, a student who has not been present since the first day of class appeared - yes, appeared. It felt like I had seen a ghost. Worse, I was totally unprepared to inform him of everything he had missed including MY CLASSROOM POLICY AND GUIDELINES. But I prevailed! As groups of students began to present the information they found while during a jigsaw activity to the class, I immediately briefed him up on what was going on and encourage him to take notes. After 2 group presentations, I spotted him. There he was, on his phone (as if 5 weeks out of class was not enough leisure time). Without hesitation, I grabbed my grade book and relocated to the back row, right behind him. Within seconds the phone slid down and the pencil began to move.

 It was the first time in 5 weeks, I left my classrooms like "you did that s%#!".