Several weeks ago I started wearing steel-toed boots to WRIT 101. They’re heavy, brown, chucked up leather boots I bought when I worked in a warehouse. Designed to brace the weight of a two-ton forklift, the boots keep toes from being severed by falling oil drums or bandsaw blades, thick enough that screws and nails won’t puncture the bottom of your feet. And they make anyone wearing them two inches taller…
I have football players in my class, volleyball players, I have students a foot taller than I am, and I’ll admit it, sometimes I don’t feel physically fit while explaining to one of the said giants why they received a U on their Op-Ed assignment. Boots help. This was on my mind while reading bell hooks.
hooks emphasizes a democratic freedom and community in the classroom, an acknowledgement by the teacher and the students that it is just as much as the students’ responsibility as it is the teacher’s to engage the class, to “self-actualize” in a course. She writes, “I had never wanted to surrender the conviction that one could teach without reinforcing existing systems of domination. I needed to know that professors did not have to be dictators in the classroom” (18). Her insight to the relationships students and teachers should hold came at an important time for me, as I’ve been wondering how to create a more democratic classroom. How do I encourage students to believe that their ideas, their opinions and their history is just as important as my ideas? I wanted them to participate in their own learning more, not just wait for me to create learning for them. hooks offers a great example in her relationship with Paulo Freire: “The lesson I learned from witnessing Paulo embody the practice he describes in theory was profound” (56). And hooks obviously attempts to mirror and support the kind of community that Freire allows—admitting criticism, especially from feminists, in his case (54).
In her discussion with Ron Scapp, hooks speaks about the mind/body split that exists in many classrooms: “The arrangement of the body we are talking about deemphasizes the reality that professors are in the classroom to offer something of our selves to the students. The erasure of the body encourages us to think that we are listening to neutral, objective facts, facts that are not particular to who is sharing the information” (139). This was enlightening to me, as I often struggle with the right balance between pedagogical leadership and personal involvement in a classroom. What role do I play? How much do I avoid that mind/body split? I’m curious how the rest of you approach this, how you avoid the role of dictator and instead promote the role of a guide?
We began class today in the usual manner, by freewriting. Two differences, however: I wasn’t wearing steel-toed boots, and at the end of the freewrite I volunteered to read mine. I’d never done this before, and felt vulnerable as I began. But by the end of the class, most of the students had volunteered their freewrites—something they’ve never done either. I was reminded of hooks:
“The empowerment cannot happen if we refuse to be vulnerable…Professors who expect students to share confessional narratives but who are themselves unwilling to share are exercising power in a manner that could be coercive. In my classrooms, I do not expect students to take any risks that I would not take, to share in any way that I would not share” (21).
Maybe the boots make me feel more authoritative, maybe they make my toes feel safer. Regardless, after reading hooks, I’m encouraged to look at the class as a free, democratic community where my role isn’t to control or enforce, but to encourage, commit, and participate.
Carl,
ReplyDeleteI can relate to what you convey here. Again and again, we have read about how fundamental it is to the learning process that each individual student be viewed as a traveller. Students bring with them unique experiences, unique histories, and unique insights. As such, student "contributions are resources" (hooks 8). As Roskelly would suggest, these contributions are indeed what allow for students, as well as teachers, to learn from one another and in a very real way, to create knowledge (Roskelly 72). But the question of what role the teacher ought to play in the classroom still remains.
hooks makes it clear that we ought to emerge from behind the podium "to disrupt the notion of professor as omnipotent, all-knowing mind" (hooks 138). Although I agree with her and the remarks you make in your closing paragraph, I am not always entirely clear which role I am to fill and in which ways I am to fill it. I have made it clear to my students that I am a graduate student and in many ways, I share the same sorts of responsibilities that they have. Since then, I have noticed that class discussions tend to go very smoothly. However, I have also witnessed some students slacking off... Is there a time to return to the podium? Is there a balance between these approaches that can somehow reconcile their differences?
Nic, I agree there is a tricky balance we must find in the classroom that bridges Hooks idea of ‘education as empowerment’ while still maintaining the podium… As Carl said, sharing, showing and demonstrating vulnerability goes a long way in the writing classroom, particularly when you’re trying to model the importance of writing as a social activity through the sharing of freewrites. As both you and Carl mention, when you share or communicate to your students a sense of who you are as a human, rather than represent the disconnected authority figure Hooks speaks of, your students automatically feel more vested and important in the classroom. I think it can get dangerous when you lose the balance between educator, leader and peer. I really love Bell Hooks, so many of her thoughts and theories stick with me. The only thing I wonder and worry about is what moves can I make as a novice educator to truly demonstrate education as freedom. I realize this is a grand step to want to make, but I wonder if there are small ways we can get to the themes Hooks speaks about. I like to think we’re making these steps in sharing freewrites, celebrating our student’s voices and at least trying to keep in mind the themes and goals that we want our classrooms to emulate. If we can do this through sharing our stories and validating our student voices, then at least we’re taking steps towards pedagogy Hooks would be proud of – while wearing empowering boots.
ReplyDeleteJudging from Jenny's and Nic's comments, I suspect that most us will agree with hooks'/Watkins' ideas. I especially connected with her thoughts about classroom excitement and engagement. However, I am still confused about how to improve my teaching is these areas, especially concepts on which I, as a white guy, have little perspective: multiculturalism, feminism, etc.
ReplyDeletehooks hit me between the eyes when she wrote about "...the sense that the professor could, by sheer strength of will and desire, make the classroom an exciting, learning community" (9). Her words describe my approach, which has worked 80% of the time. However, it hasn't always overcome freshmen apathy.
Carl, I think I understand (and agree with) your comment about classroom democracy, but I do not necessarily want my classroom to be a democracy. I want it to be a place where students have a voice, where they think and participate and challenge and grow. But I believe they can best do that when led by an open and capable leader, not a peer-like teacher.
I try hard to invite participation, voice, inclusion, etc, but I have not yet succeeded the degree to which hooks advocates.
This week's readings leave me in a familiar 540 position:
1. These are great thoughts.
2. I need to incorporate these ideas into my classroom.
3. But how?
I'm hoping that some of you have some concrete ideas. I'm listening.
Carl, I must admit I did a little experiment upon reading your post. The name of the writer doesn't appear until the end of the post, as you all well know, but your opening with steel-toe boots was so engaging that I just had to guess along the way who the author might be and in the end I was not far off. It was indeed you. I don’t want to veer too far of the topics that other commenters have followed your post with, but I think that it is interesting, in light of our reading and hooks mind/body discussion, that your character came out not only in your writing style, but that the physical embodiment of Carl came through so clearly. I know that was the point. That is what you were becoming aware of and changing. But nonetheless, it shows us just how our voices, bodies, and how we adorn ourselves do clearly carry strong meanings and connections to our students. “…there can be no intervention that challenges the status quo if we are not willing to interrogate the way our presentation of self as well as our pedagogical process is often shaped by middle-class norms” (185).
ReplyDeleteJayme, you bring up a very good question. hooks’ theories about engaged pedagogy are very striking and attractive, but what from them can and should we, in all reality, bring into our classroom? You say, “I want it to be a place where students have a voice, where they think and participate and challenge and grow. But I believe they can best do that when led by an open and capable leader, not a peer-like teacher.” What would hooks say about that? What would other TAs and Kate say about that? How do you balance a classroom’s need for a guide with democracy? If we allow ourselves to be as vulnerable as she suggests, as open as she asks her students to be (something I haven’t completely done, but understand some of the benefits of), how do we deal with the moments that we may need to practice the use of some sort of power to counteract “freshman apathy” or any number of other real issues we face?