A Personal Journey in PZ

After several years of teaching I felt that I had actually become pretty competent in the classroom. I could organize my content into coherent units and lessons, I had become more comfortable with evaluating student work, I had devised systems and techniques for classroom management, and I felt that my students were getting some pretty engaging assignments and activities. But every now and then I felt a twinge—that there was something bigger I was missing and kept eluding me. Sometimes it was just an unsatisfying feeling after laboring over creating 30 multiple choice questions for a test, or when a student commented to me innocently that she had difficulty memorizing so much information, or when my students would forget so much of what I thought we had covered earlier in the year, or when they would perceive “good writing” as figuring out whatever my personal preference was, or when they would constantly ask questions about whether I was going to collect something, how many points it would be worth, etc…

What I eventually came to realize is that what I REALLY wanted for my students was to actually transform them as thinkers, to change the way they look at their world, to get them to be reflective and thoughtful individuals. I just did not know how to take my nicely packaged (and organized!) curriculum and day-to-day instructional strategies and make that leap into transformational learning. I learned some helpful things along the way in my professional development—“planning with the end in mind” was particularly instructive for me but it was still essentially an organizational strategy for curriculum and instruction. I did other workshops and added a few tricks to my bag which were essentially creative management techniques, but I still struggled with bridging the divide between how I plan for and conduct my class on a daily basis and the real mission I had as an educator. Was I just not inspirational enough?

So, when I attended Harvard's Project Zero Conference in the summer of 2008 without any foreknowledge about it, I was excited but a little skeptical. When I learned that one of their major initiatives was “Teaching for Understanding” I was downright cynical. Isn’t it obvious that we’re teaching for understanding? What in the world am I teaching FOR if not for understanding? I kept waiting for them to unveil the 5-step planning process, or the 10 key instructional techniques, or some other teaching toolkit that was nicely packaged and highly marketable.

Instead, what I found was an environment that provoked and challenged my thinking, encouraged me to make it personal, and allowed me to confront the disconnect between my ideals and my daily practice. I realized that there aren’t any magic strategies that I can simply import from an outside source to transform my teaching. I had to make a dispositional shift.  I had to be willing to critically examine every facet of what I do as a teacher--from the language that I use to how I assess student learning--and basically interrogate my practice. Why am I asking students to do this? What is it that I want them to get out of it? Do they know what they are supposed to get out of it? Is this really important? What long-term benefit are they going to get from this? Do they know how to do what I’m asking them to do?

So I started small. I tweaked assignments. I had kids do more reflective writing. I changed the language that I used in class to emphasize learning and thinking over work and grades. I asked different types of questions. I let students do more to problem solve rather than jump right in with my explanations. I waited longer after asking a question and didn’t call on the first person to raise their hand. When students were in small groups and there was a disagreement, I brought it to the attention of the class to highlight a learning opportunity. I tried to acknowledge when students were evidencing good thinking, even when they weren’t giving the “correct” responses. For every test I tried to add an important skill-based component where students had to apply their knowledge to something new. I let some discussions get messy and generate more questions, resisting the temptation to bring it all nicely back together at the end. All of this was being driven by the idea that if I want students to be focused on their thinking and learning rather than simply doing work, I have to show in all sorts of ways—both explicitly and implicitly—what it is that I truly value. I have to actually change the culture of my classroom.

Thinking deliberately about the culture of my class and making conscious choices about even the littlest things I do has transformed the way my class feels. The content is pretty much the same, most of the activities are pretty much the same, although I’ve made some subtle but significant shifts. But everything feels so much more purposeful. I am constantly explaining to my students what I am doing and why I am asking them to do the things I’m asking them to do. I feel a greater sense of clarity about my ultimate goals, and so it gives me a sharper focus when I am planning and delivering instruction.

The difficulty in trying to communicate the revolution that Project Zero has initiated in my practice is that everyone wants what I was looking for--the package, the implementation.  But I am finding that through thoughtful and honest collegial discussions, this idea of teaching for intellectual character and transforming our students as thinkers is impacting how my colleagues are reflecting on and refining their own teaching.  I am hopeful and excited for how these conversations will eventually impact the culture of our institution at large, and that we as a community of educators might embody the very dispositions and characteristics we seek to nurture in our students.

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