A “Typical” Day in
Contemporary History Class
(9/17/13)
I have
always been resistant to putting ideas in students’ heads, but I am very
interested in putting thinking into them (if that makes any sense). I do not need students to think as I do, but
I feel that it is essential for them to become good critical thinkers and
thinking people in general. Class today
was a good example of my teaching style and strategy.
On my
Lesson Plan (not the Unit one that the students download from my website, but
the bare-bones format that I submit to the Office), it said that we would be
discussing authors of the time period we are currently studying (1896 – 1912). Because my process is flexible and variable,
no two classes come out quite the same, but on this day, it was remarkably
similar. To preface, I might say that
these two Junior classes of Contemporary History have been my biggest challenge
so far at PHS, because they did not choose to enroll for my class in
particular, and have indicated that this was certainly not the class that they
had anticipated. Behavior and
studiousness has been variable, though the students have certainly progressed
greatly since the first week.
We
began with a picture of Oscar Wilde on the SMARTBoard. I usually ask the students what they think of
the person in the photo, and this shot of Wilde is typically stylish and
unique. (“Foppish” I think we would have
said in the old days.) I then told them
of his novella The Picture of Dorian Gray. They were being exceptionally well-behaved,
but I think a certain tension was building in me about what would come
next. Knowing how the class will
progress is sometimes detrimental to one’s concentration, and in this case, I
have been having some trouble getting the class to focus on a specific task and
particularly to contribute to an effective discussion. I had some trepidation that the class would
move forward effectively, and was considering the options that I had for
delivering relevant information.
Coming
to the end of the relevance of Dorian
Gray, I hypothesized, with some help from some students that the story
speculates on whether we ever truly show our inner self to others, or if we
hide behind a façade of superficiality that disguises our faults. This was met with looks of acknowledgement
and understanding on the faces of most students, and so I decided to proceed by
connecting this to Wilde’s Ballad of
Reading Gaol, which I had previously given them (excerpted) for their
notebooks. Wilde’s homosexuality caused
him to be incarcerated, where he proceeded to write this poem, a scathing
assault on the prison system and judiciary practices of his day. Since the students readily and honestly
admitted that none of them had read the excerpts that I had given them, I was
faced with two choices: Give them the gist of the story and move on; or take
the major risk of testing their intellectual and social maturity by exploring
the document in detail. Though admittedly
nervous about what I thought could be great potential for disaster with this
group, something in me sensed this as a turning point in our relationship, and
I decided to be bold.
I asked
the students to turn to their copy, and then asked for volunteers to read
excerpts. Those volunteers were almost
immediately forthcoming, and at each break in the passages, I provided them
with information that would help them understand the vocabulary and imagery
that Wilde uses. Their attentiveness and
sensitivity was incredible. As we
proceeded, some of the hypothetical questions became very deep, but the class
handled it with exceptional aplomb. I
began to feel more comfortable, and was eventually glad that I had taken the
bigger risk. For most of 30 minutes, the
class was focused, participatory, and extremely thoughtful. We touched on a wide variety of topics
involving not only homosexuality, but also social conventions, artistic
integrity, and teen culture. In every
case, it was obvious that most students were thinking about their own values
and positions on a full spectrum of topics.
When we
had finished, I paused for just a few seconds of silence before proceeding to
the next topic. I told the students that
I wanted to savor the moment just a bit, because I truly felt that those were
the best moments of class all year. Many
of them seemed gratified to hear that, and there was agreement on many faces.
Our
next topic was much more easy-going: Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and the invention
of Sherlock Holmes. Students were able
to laugh and ponder, as we discussed the character and the vagaries of being
the author of an archetypal fictional person.
We then discussed Jack London’s life and writings, including what was a
familiar book for many, Call of the Wild. We again floated some hypotheses about
whether any animal can ever be truly domesticated, and whether humans actually
can be, though this last idea was cut short by the bell.
The
afternoon class was a virtual carbon-copy of the morning class. The process was almost exactly the same, and therefore equally gratifying.
After the students left and classes
were over for the day, I pondered what had happened. I had moved the unit more slowly than I had
intended to, but the rewards had been tremendous. I truly believe that every class period with
those two groups will be better now, as we build on the trust and intellectual
honesty that we experienced. I am a
strong believer in the value of relationships, and I am certain that all
relationships within those classes have been improved. I think the risk was fully justified by the
rewards.
If there is any flaw I can see to yesterday’s exceptional class periods, it would be that of everything the students learned in that 45-minute period, many of them vitally important lessons about life, tolerance, compassion, artistry, and individuality, the only thing likely to appear on any standardized test is Jack London in a multiple-choice question to match with his book. I don’t believe that any of my students would have traded the experience they had for the opportunity to memorize the answers to a few multiple-choice questions.