Learning the Importance of My Classroom Library, and My Heart Behind it

At the 2016 KATE Conference, I learned many things. I learned exciting new ways to incorporate both classic and graphic novels into my curriculum, how to boldly ask questions and maneuver my way through my first year teaching, and ways to tackle and become comfortable with ambiguity in the class. However, all of these nuts and bolts paled in comparison to the overarching themes I’ve learned over not only the two days of the conference, but in the last year getting to know some of my classmates and colleagues better.

What I learned from both gripping anecdotes and calculated data is that books save lives. Books can transform. But their power is increased exponentially when the characters in them are better representative of the students who are searching in them for hope and for meaning. In their own unique ways and from their various perspectives, the two keynote speakers and the panel Friday afternoon all were saying that representation matters, and having diverse and relatable books on my shelf can impact the health, safety, and happiness of my students. For a long time, I believed that because of my deep Christian faith, I would be hindered from speaking about tough subjects with the students because I would rather avoid telling them that I disagree or risk offending someone. What I have come to realize in many ways through the conference is that my comfort level is not the point of life, or the point of teaching. I need to accept and embrace being uncomfortable if it means a better environment for my students, and more compassionate and informed students for the world. Bill Konigsberg, author of many young adult books like Openly Straight, discussed the fact that regardless of your personal or religious views on LGBTQ issues you are able to stock books with those characters shown in a positive light. He doesn’t necessarily agree with wars, but he would still hold those books in his classroom because they can connect with and touch different people. Showing and validating that those identities are real and exist and can still lead healthy lives can really help when students are struggling through the throes of adolescence. It really impressed upon me the importance of having those kinds of titles in my classroom.

Similarly, I had always heard of the lack of diversity when it came to children’s and young adult books, but never really heard just how much it was or the damage it can do to children. When I heard from Stacy Whitman, publisher and editor at Tu Books, that there were more children’s books with main characters who were animals than children’s books with main characters of color I was astonished. Hearing from the panelists really connected the problems that exist with this—a lack of representation creates a lack of connection with literature and can make it harder to engage in the reading. I was so grateful to her to give us resources and titles to help us create a diverse and engaging classroom library for whoever our students are. I liked her analogy of windows and mirrors, we need to give books to our students that reflect who they are as people as well as showing them perspectives they’ve never seen in order to grow their empathy and knowledge.

All in all, I have learned the importance of my classroom library, and cannot wait to begin stockpiling books in the next year. In addition to all I learned, I had so much fun engaging with other English teachers from around the state and the future English teachers I have as classmates. The bonds I’ve made with these people have taught me so much that I know they are going to go out and be amazing teachers for not only Literature and Language, but life and love. 

Learning to Express Experiences in Creative Ways (genre reflection #1)

This is my Genre Reflection for my methods class at Wichita State. It takes an experience I've learned from my placement and tells it in a creative and interesting way. This reflection is in monologue form, or a short scene performed on stage by a single person.

Scene in a Class

Two boys sit across the room from each other. Mentor Teacher is speaking with a “Charlie Brown’s teacher” voice. The boys glance back and forth, clearly disengaged from the discussion, and making vague hand gestures to each other. Periodically, the boys glance to the larger student beside one of them and laugh, making gestures that may signify bullying of some kind and mouthing jokes to one another.

Lights on the class cut to black, single spot on Mrs. Watkins. She breaks the fourth wall and looks frustratingly into the audience.

WATKINS: And in that moment, I felt helpless. The class moved along without me, my mentor teacher explicating on the complexities of assimilating to American culture, and yet I couldn’t get past these two smug teenagers. You see, they sit right across from each other in the u-shaped formation that I saw a diagram of in Core 1. Discipline for the Secondary Classroom calls it “excellent for classroom discussion but an inefficient use of space,” which I was beginning to take issue with. My mentor teacher, highly experienced and innately confident, chose not to dignify them with a response, but I was worried they were starting to attract attention. Do I step in and say something? Let it be? My intervention came to me as an epiphany and at the time felt brilliant. I meandered my way into the center of the U, nodding along with the analysis and encouraging discussion, and just planted myself in the boys’ line of sight. I had magically dissipated the problem, and was thus a paragon educator. Or was I? Because now, the boys were shifting left and right, giggling at this new challenge to their little game. Students beside them were watching my fleeting attempt to assert control and were completely checked out of the lesson. As the bell rang, the class scurried away and my confidence felt like the big swinging boat ride at the amusement park: moving from extreme high to utter failure in a few sweeping seconds. But hey, that’s learning to teach, I guess. You try, you experiment, and you realize what works and what doesn’t. You show back up the next day and you try something new. These boys won’t become my nemesis, nor will they be my defeat. They’ll be back with more games, but I’ll be back too. And one day I’ll figure them out. 

Learning to Combat Learned Helplessness (online reflection #2)

Each of my students have their own little personalities and quirks: some love to read graphic novels and give large hugs, some run in yelling about Zootopia and extra terms for President Obama, and others are more reserved and quietly brilliant. However, there are always a couple of students who are more of a struggle to connect with and get excited to see every morning. One of my boys in particular, doesn’t do his work when asked, shows off for the class with his charm and smile, and then spends time asking what he’s supposed to do after not listening to instructions. It is so frustrating to try to help him when he doesn’t put forth much effort to help himself. He seems to be a candidate for the growing epidemic of learned helplessness, or the state of not knowing how to do work without a teacher constantly beside you. This is showing up with kids all over, and I believe a lot of it stems from teachers and parents being unwilling to give up control of their children enough to let them learn to express their own thoughts. If every time a student is struggling we swoop in to save the day, they slowly grow accustomed to just waiting until we swoop. So how can these habits manifest themselves, and what can we do to stop it?

In my research, a lot of learned helplessness didn’t match up with what I was seeing in my classroom. For my student, it seemed almost an act of defiance, a battle of wills to remain looking cool. In an article about the origins of learned helplessness, Jordan Catapano describes it as the students losing confidence in who they are as students, internalizing their failures and feeling like they are bad at all things school because they had a bad grade attributed to them. That, in turn, leads to a cycle where they stop trying. It said we as teachers needed to change the way we relate to students and their grades, setting individual goals and giving positive feedback for effort rather than just the letter grades.

Another article took a less touchy-feely approach, saying that the reasons for the students’ struggles are that teachers are just over-helping and not allowing the students to fall and make their own mistakes. This article recommends to let other resources besides you teach the class, from outside adults to community organizations. In addition, they emphasize the importance of asking questions that dig into why and how they think about their answers rather than just inquiring for the answer specifically. Over all, the freedom to make mistakes can teach students that they have the strength and capability to explore their own original thought away from the structures and aids from the teacher.

So what does this mean for my student? Does he have a deeper emotional issue and fear of failure? Has he just been taught that his work would get done for him by a teacher if he waited and smiled long enough? Or does he truly just not care about doing his work and is content to pass with a C-? I have not figured all of that out yet, but my mentor teacher and I are working to turn every stone and cover every base in order to find out, from trying various strategies in the classroom to conferencing with his mother. I will continue learning what I can about students who freeze up at the thought of independent work, and will refuse to let a student slip through the cracks, regardless of how frustrated they may make me. As my mentor teacher told me today, our job is to give each student the tools and techniques they need to succeed, no matter what it takes.