I passed my short practicum a few days ago – a remarkably intense learning experience. The university prepares you for the experience through observation days each week, leading up to the short practicum itself. But short practicum was unlike any of my previous observation days, because I was being assessed on my observations and insights into what the experience meant to me. Furthermore, unlike an observation day, teacher candidates are expected to teach at least one class over the course their short practicum. I taught two.

Here is what I learned: assessment is key. As a teacher candidate, I am spending days crafting what I think are ideal lesson plans for my students. The reality is that I am lucky to accomplish half of what I initially planned for the lesson. A classroom is a fast-paced, constantly evolving environment and even the most perfect of lessons will require amendments, depending on the diversity of one’s students. The key is to set realistic learning objectives and frequently check for understanding. Failure to do this turns a lesson into a lecture; lectures are for universities.

I learned that my students are brilliant and gifted, but that it is my job to create opportunities for them to shine, get them excited, and allow me to flexibly assess their understanding of curricular content and skill development.

By “flexibly assess” I mean creating both formal and informal ways of checking for understanding. People are complex and unique – we all learn differently. For example, I am still surprised at my school’s lenient policy over cell phone use in class. Often students will silent read while listening to music or do group work while surfing the web. But teachers are intelligent, creative, and resourceful individuals – we have to be to survive the job – and a cell phone could be seen as an assessment tool when gauging a student’s technological literacy in a media unit, or as a disciplinary measure in the form of a revoked privilege for those students who use it as a distraction.

In one of my lessons, I had prepared a jigsaw activity in which students examined primary sources from the same event in history and shared their ideas in a group. This culminated in the group creating a statement on the historical significance of the event. While I was moving from group to group assessing their level of engagement with the sources and ability to collaborate and reach a common goal, I felt initially disappointed at what I saw: stick figures saying “dollar dollar bills y’all”, one half of a sentence, and pictures of president-elect Donald Trump. I felt like a failure; I overshot where my lesson should have been and my students were coping as best they could due to my lack of clarity. Based on my observations, there was no way anyone learned anything.

Then I started talking to the students: I asked them how they were feeling about the activity, what their own feelings were, what they were drawing. The responses I got were nothing short of amazing – students were forming complex ideas about their sources, as well as the source’s collective meaning(s). I observed what they highlighted on the texts and photos and saw that they were highlighting the same passages I did when I initially read through the sources myself. Furthermore, they were asking the same questions I had. My students were smart and engaged; I had just missed the mark in how I assessed student success.

As teachers, we must assume the mantel of reflective practitioner. If our students are not understanding a concept, it is because we have not been listening to them and addressing their needs. I learned the importance of the question “What do you need?” in liberating the teacher as the oppressor (to quote Freire). It humanizes the teacher and places them into a position of supportive guardian once again. Do not get caught up in your expectations of your students; start thinking about their expectations of you.

Until next time,
Alex M.