Welcome to the “Teaching” section of my portfolio where the most recent teaching positions I’ve held are detailed and discussed. Please visit the links below to view the various teaching positions I’ve held, as well as my documentation of them.
TA’ship 2011
TA’ship 2010
New Shoots
Curriculum Vitae
Teaching Resume
As a centrepiece to a teacher’s portfolio, the teaching philosophy often takes the form a personal essay that expresses musings on pedagogy and personal teaching style, as well as profound experiences that have shaped a teacher’s best practices. This is a living document and its revision never ends. I hope you enjoy this living snapshot of my teaching philosophy.
Teaching Philosophy
I’d like to start my teaching philosophy on a high note. I’ve been blessed with many wonderful teachers and artistic mentors during my career as a writer. The first instance was in the third grade when my teacher, Mrs. Shauf showed great concern over my nearly
failing grades. She set up a meeting with my mother and asked, “What can I do to help unlock the smart kid inside Natalie?” The stratagem they devised worked—my life as a learner changed for the better. Almost a decade later, Mrs. Shauf appeared as a student in my adult swim class and I was able to help her overcome her phobia of water.
Flash-forward to my BA English Honours thesis—my supervisor rarely put a negative comment on my writing. He heaped positive feedback onto the strongest parts so high that, by a process of elimination, I developed my own sense of what wasn’t working. Again, flash-forward to my first poetry writing retreat—my mentor’s constructive criticism sounded so encouraging, I went home seeing my mistakes as achievements.
From these profound experiences, I am compelled to say that I arrive at teaching from a place of gratitude and view my teaching journey as an adventure in generosity. For me, teaching is about intellectual charity and encouragement, which grows students’ drive to learn.
Every time I teach or am taught, my writer’s tool chest grows. I believe that the best teachers are fine gleaners— people who are unafraid to borrow, and be borrowed from. In the classroom, I approach my teaching time as a time to share the tools and techniques I continually aim to master. Vice versa, my students teach me how to become more dexterous with my tools, and often show me there are more tools than I first realized. A teacher’s privilege is to help other learners grow this skill of gleaning.
As a writer, I know that my work is mostly solitary, done when wandering the fields of my thoughts. As a teacher, I know that writers need community. I aim to provide a community classroom where everyone’s gifts are equally celebrated and received.
A writing teacher must operate on a base belief that his/her students have the potential to be great writers. I know that creativity should be nurtured by encouragement and pruned by constructive criticism. Criticism that does not account for the writer’s present dexterity level is like telling an apprentice bonsai gardener that his/her skills are not like those of the journeyman. It simply isn’t useful or fair. Students will be able to tell if your encouragement and criticism comes from a belief in their potential or a general despair at their present lack of ability.
To conclude my living, ever-being-honed teaching philosophy, I’ll talk about those who left indelible black marks on my life as a teacher and learner. Mrs. Shauf would not’ve needed to rescue me if my grade one teacher—I’ll call her Mrs. Bane— hadn’t spent so much time humiliating me for my sub-par math skills. Similarly, my thesis supervisor and first poetry mentor wouldn’t have needed to heap praise on me if I hadn’t suffered from such low self-esteem. My self-doubt stemmed from a creative writing professor who openly disdained my work in class and another mentor who scolded me like an exasperated parent. This discouragement led to several years in the prison of writer’s block.
I now wear these indelible marks with pride and allow them to influence my teaching style. If there is a moment I can reassure a student of their potential, I will take it. It is my job to distract my students from the meaning of the ever fear-inspiring word “talent” and the question, “do I have it?” Pondering over these invariably causes writer’s block—even for the accomplished writer.
Two metaphors strongly communicate my aspirations as a teacher. To be the lamplighter teacher: she shows her students that inspiration for art is already embedded in them and gives them a mirror to see it’s pilot light. The bonsai gardener: she waters her student’s self-confidence three times before she picks up her shears. She is committed to growing her students’ potential and may even whisper encouragement when no one is looking.