What Megan A Arnold said. I would like to tell you that after 42 years of teaching that the anguish you are experiencing will be slowly extinguished by the steady growth of your skills and insights. But sadly, no. The reverse is true. You do get better at teaching, at evaluating your teaching and at managing your classroom. But all of this growth means that you are also more acutely aware of your failures and shortcoming. Sometimes mistakes are obvious and easily corrected, such as requiring eight-grade students to learn how to transcribe their idiolect using the Trager-Smith phonemic system or use transformational grammar to improve writing. Neither were my idea, but I was told to teach these. But mysteries abound in teaching such as why the same lesson lights one class on fire and falls flat in another. These mysteries arise from the three tenets of English teaching that you posit.
The beginning of a new school was always a time of magical thinking. This year I will get everything right; students will write often, and I will return papers in a timely manner. The readings will excite some students. By January, the magic is gone.
Maybe what you are experiencing is some variation of the “impostor syndrome.” But from reading this post, I can clearly see that you care deeply about your students, you are self-analytic (avoid self-criticism), and you will succeed far beyond your dreams.
Randy, it's so amazing to hear from you! Thank you! I am engaging in a bit of midsummer magical thinking right now, reading a book by some idealistic English teachers and thinking big (though sometimes overwhelming) thoughts about next year. But in a week or two it will be time to knuckle down and start writing some lessons that improve incrementally, not revolutionarily, on last year's.
Since starting to teach high school I've thought back a lot on my own high school experience and on who I was then. Thank you for being a good teacher! I recall that I had quite a chip on my shoulder about reading and writing back then. Thanks for bearing with my attitude, which you must have done. A high school memory I cherish, I think it was from your class, is of reading The Great Gatsby in not much more than one sitting . . . we were supposed to have been reading it for several weeks, only I hadn't, and there was a quiz/test the next class. I probably thought that whatever I was reading on my own was more fun or important. Boy was I in for a surprise. Gatsby throttled me with its excellence. Still one of my favorite reading experiences of all time.
With your permission, I will copy what you wrote about Judy and Elly and share with Elly, Ellen Kurcis, Ray Anderson, etc. I will also tell them how to subscribe to "Occasional Katherine."
I may be repeating myself, but over the years, I would keep certain papers or projects that students created and that touched me. I am in the process of cleaning out. I came across one that you did entitled "One Good Look: images of white women/white girls." I can send you a pic of the cover and the back with your name and 1996. If you want it, send me a mailing address. Reading these posts, I hear your analytic voice emerging in your project in 1996.
And yes, I remember that you had a "chip" on your shoulder. My memory--not always a reliable source--is that you often seemed dissatisfied or annoyed at my class. It was if you had some internal 'does-this-class-meet-my-needs or is-this-class-up-to-my-standards" meter that was constantly registering on the negative end of the scale.
You weren't the first nor the last student to appear displeased with my class. Yes, I did assign "The Great Gatsby." If you contact me via my email, I'll share an insight that I've had recently about that novel.
Dear Randy, I would LOVE it if you would pass on this newsletter to Elly, Ellen, Ray, and anyone else you are still in touch with who you think might be interested. Amazing. Thank you.
I would like to have the project I made in 1996...I don't remember it, and I'm curious. I'll email you at the address you used to sign up for this Substack & share my mailing address with you that way.
And aw man, I'm so sorry about having been a drag in your classroom! It doesn't surprise me that that's what you remember (since it's pretty consistent with how I remember myself behaving), but it's a bummer nonetheless. I think junior year might have been the high water mark of my disaffection with school. I was reading a lot, and I basically believed that anything worth learning, I could acquire by myself. Definitely not true!!! From the other side of the teacher's desk and the other side of adulthood, I notice many different things now...hmm, maybe a subject for a future newsletter post, actually.
Anyway, you were a good teacher and the fault is my own. I look forward to hearing your new insight on Gastby!
Thank you for sharing all this. Your students are fortunate to have such a thoughtful and articulate teacher! I'm guessing some of these points will be things to wrestle with for as long as you teach.
What Megan A Arnold said. I would like to tell you that after 42 years of teaching that the anguish you are experiencing will be slowly extinguished by the steady growth of your skills and insights. But sadly, no. The reverse is true. You do get better at teaching, at evaluating your teaching and at managing your classroom. But all of this growth means that you are also more acutely aware of your failures and shortcoming. Sometimes mistakes are obvious and easily corrected, such as requiring eight-grade students to learn how to transcribe their idiolect using the Trager-Smith phonemic system or use transformational grammar to improve writing. Neither were my idea, but I was told to teach these. But mysteries abound in teaching such as why the same lesson lights one class on fire and falls flat in another. These mysteries arise from the three tenets of English teaching that you posit.
The beginning of a new school was always a time of magical thinking. This year I will get everything right; students will write often, and I will return papers in a timely manner. The readings will excite some students. By January, the magic is gone.
Maybe what you are experiencing is some variation of the “impostor syndrome.” But from reading this post, I can clearly see that you care deeply about your students, you are self-analytic (avoid self-criticism), and you will succeed far beyond your dreams.
Randy, it's so amazing to hear from you! Thank you! I am engaging in a bit of midsummer magical thinking right now, reading a book by some idealistic English teachers and thinking big (though sometimes overwhelming) thoughts about next year. But in a week or two it will be time to knuckle down and start writing some lessons that improve incrementally, not revolutionarily, on last year's.
Since starting to teach high school I've thought back a lot on my own high school experience and on who I was then. Thank you for being a good teacher! I recall that I had quite a chip on my shoulder about reading and writing back then. Thanks for bearing with my attitude, which you must have done. A high school memory I cherish, I think it was from your class, is of reading The Great Gatsby in not much more than one sitting . . . we were supposed to have been reading it for several weeks, only I hadn't, and there was a quiz/test the next class. I probably thought that whatever I was reading on my own was more fun or important. Boy was I in for a surprise. Gatsby throttled me with its excellence. Still one of my favorite reading experiences of all time.
Katherine,
With your permission, I will copy what you wrote about Judy and Elly and share with Elly, Ellen Kurcis, Ray Anderson, etc. I will also tell them how to subscribe to "Occasional Katherine."
I may be repeating myself, but over the years, I would keep certain papers or projects that students created and that touched me. I am in the process of cleaning out. I came across one that you did entitled "One Good Look: images of white women/white girls." I can send you a pic of the cover and the back with your name and 1996. If you want it, send me a mailing address. Reading these posts, I hear your analytic voice emerging in your project in 1996.
And yes, I remember that you had a "chip" on your shoulder. My memory--not always a reliable source--is that you often seemed dissatisfied or annoyed at my class. It was if you had some internal 'does-this-class-meet-my-needs or is-this-class-up-to-my-standards" meter that was constantly registering on the negative end of the scale.
You weren't the first nor the last student to appear displeased with my class. Yes, I did assign "The Great Gatsby." If you contact me via my email, I'll share an insight that I've had recently about that novel.
I am glad I've found your postings.
Is this posting public?
Dear Randy, I would LOVE it if you would pass on this newsletter to Elly, Ellen, Ray, and anyone else you are still in touch with who you think might be interested. Amazing. Thank you.
I would like to have the project I made in 1996...I don't remember it, and I'm curious. I'll email you at the address you used to sign up for this Substack & share my mailing address with you that way.
And aw man, I'm so sorry about having been a drag in your classroom! It doesn't surprise me that that's what you remember (since it's pretty consistent with how I remember myself behaving), but it's a bummer nonetheless. I think junior year might have been the high water mark of my disaffection with school. I was reading a lot, and I basically believed that anything worth learning, I could acquire by myself. Definitely not true!!! From the other side of the teacher's desk and the other side of adulthood, I notice many different things now...hmm, maybe a subject for a future newsletter post, actually.
Anyway, you were a good teacher and the fault is my own. I look forward to hearing your new insight on Gastby!
Thank you for sharing all this. Your students are fortunate to have such a thoughtful and articulate teacher! I'm guessing some of these points will be things to wrestle with for as long as you teach.