While I was reading this article I couldn’t help comparing and contrasting it to the “How do they Conduct Class” article. While that article didn’t definitively claim that one method of teaching (lectures, group discussions, etc.) was the right way of doing things, it was more specifically concerned with methods and techniques. This article is more about what it means to be a teacher than it is about how to teach; the central premise of it is that “good teaching cannot be reduced to technique; good teaching comes from the identity and integrity of the teacher.”

I took a number of different things from both of these articles. I wouldn’t say that teaching methods and techniques are unimportant, or that working on improving your instruction style is unnecessary (and I don’t think that’s what the author of this article is trying to say). I’ve had some teachers that seemed to love what they were doing and were very enthusiastic about teaching that, for a variety of reasons, I didn’t consider to be especially great instructors. On the other hand, I agreed with the general premise of this article. To be a good teacher it seems like you would have to have a strong sense of identity as an instructor, a willingness to put yourself out there so to speak (the article spends a good bit of time discussing a teacher’s vulnerability in class), and an interest in working with students to help them develop intellectually (instead of simply trying to show them how knowledgeable you are).

The main thing I took from the article “How do they conduct class?” is the importance of getting students actively involved in class. There isn’t necessarily one right way of encouraging active learning; the teacher could use a “traditional” lecture style, moderate discussions, assign group work, etc. The main thing seems to be to encourage students to think critically, whether that is as part of a lecture, group discussion, or class project. To do so the instructor needs to quickly get the attention of the students and keep them involved.

The question then is how do we try to make sure that we get the students’ attention and keep it? How do we make sure that the students are actively involved? The article talks about how many professors try to quickly get their students attention by starting class with a “provocative” question. I personally am struggling at the moment to think of what might be called a provocative question related to one of my presentations, but regardless there seem to be some fairly clear ways of keeping the class actively involved in the session. We can frequently ask questions of the group, get them involved in coming up with keywords or search terms, have them work in groups in order to build searches, etc.

The last thing I took from this article was how even experienced teachers practice at being an instructor in order to get better at what they’re doing. Some videotape their own sessions, some practice in front of a mirror, and some simply spend a few minutes before class going over what they want to get across to their students. I was a bit surprised by that in some ways; I’ve had some teachers that seemed so relaxed and at ease as instructors that I have a hard time imagining them practicing their enunciation before class. But it does make sense, there are inevitably going to be people that are more naturally gifted teachers than you, but you can always work at improving the way you do things in class.

This was a splendid and inspirational article.  It jives very well with my personal interpretations of Taoist philosophy, particularly in its emphasis on the value of integrity as an intersection of authentic, realized relationships.  This point is particularly salient in bringing together the ideals of courage born of compassion and vulnerability with techniques that thereby “reveal rather than conceal” our character as instructors.

What captured my attention most was the section on mentoring.  It got me to thinking about my own mentors and how they (as the reading says) appeared at crucial times in my life and changed my personal and professional trajectories in ways I could not have imagined at the time.  I spent some time remembering my first mentor, a third grade English teacher Claudia Isaacs.  I was shy and easily embarrassed then, and when we had to give our book reports in class I remember being petrified.  I was also sure that the other kids would see my terror and make fun of me.  But I got through it, and afterward she complimented me.  Again, after class she called me to her desk to discuss my reading choices (I had given a report on The Last Battle by C.S. Lewis) and she encouraged me, saying I had a gift for writing.  No one had ever told me so before, but she seemed so wise and spoke sincerely to me, and then gave me an “extra credit” assignment to write about another book I loved.  Rather than seeing the extra work as a punishment or a burden, suddenly it became an opportunity as well as a compliment.  I do not remember much of the content that was covered in that class (well, hopefully I remember the content but I don’t recall the occasion of it being taught).  But her kindness and enthusiasm became a part of me that day, and I probably did pay closer attention in all my classes because of it.  I have been blessed with several other great mentors since that time, some of whom dazzle me with their intellect, others who impressed me with their sheer delight in teaching and learning.  It is humbling and fills me with a deep sense of respect and responsibility in my interactions with others as I try to learn the techniques of teaching.  It reminds me of another old Taoist analogy:  That a voice coach can teach all the exercises to overcome impediments and imbue the voice with discipline, but in the end each singer has to sing his or her own song.