Monday, July 28, 2008

Developing my Philosophy of Teaching


As I was browsing through the required readings on Teaching Philosophy Statements to accompany my future portfolio, my thought process went from, "eh, this isn't so hard" to "geez, I don't think I can really define my whole philosophy yet, I mean, I know what I like, but it's in 4th & 5th grade classrooms... not high school biology labs... how do they relate?"

So, some day, I'm sure I'll need to write a whole Philosophy of Teaching. This is neither the time nor the place for it. But it's a good place to take some notes. One of the interesting things to consider about the philosophy statement is that it is both cause and effect, as well as ever-evolving. While refining ideas and committing them to paper, you start to really consider what actions you use that demonstrate (or don't) the things that you claim to believe in. In writing it, you can create the effect of working toward being the teacher you want to be. And as you experience more as a teacher, you develop and change your philosophy, defining it and re-defining it as the situation requires. Though, hopefully, your true philosophy, what you really believe to be true about how a student learns your subject, and how to reach students and aid them as they develop skills they need in your subject or in life as a whole, doesn't change to meet a new situation, just changes in the way it is implemented.

Which means that there must be some underlying ties between what I believe works for me in a classroom full of 4th graders, or will work for me in the future when faced with a room of high school sophomores. What, though? Where are the similarities, what will be the same?

First, every student has the ability to learn the basic skills to study science. They may not be able to memorize every chemical reaction in the steps of the Krebs Cycle (part of cellular respiration) but they can understand the role of the different cycles in the life cycle of the plant. They may not have any interest in knowing names of species of trees or insects, but they may find a connection to the study of ecology and the cycles therein. And biology is about the systems and how they work, from the large to the small. Understanding that any topic is about putting together the pieces to see the big picture of the system is a basic skill, and some students learn it best from the top down (how the system works and what small pieces it needs) and others from bottom up (what the chemicals are, what the pieces are, how they fit together to create a system). So any topic must be presented to show both. I teach whenever possible by explaining the big picture and narrowing in to some of the pieces. And I believe in testing on both equally. Can you tell me why the system is important? Can you identify the pieces?


I love working with students one-on-one. I tend to begin a majority of my classes with a brief introduction-lecture and then do an activity/assignment. In my current teaching, that's the hands-on activity that's more-or-less planned for them. In the future, it might be some reading, an experiment, a research project, or other assignment. During the activity, I work the room, looking for common questions (which help me know when there's something I should have/could have explained more fully, which things the majority may not have the prior experience to fully understand without further guidance, etc) and then know either what to do differently next time while I answer the questions in a personalized way, or know when to interrupt the class and bring them back to a discussion or further lecture/review from another perspective. What will help the majority, before I go back to the individualized guidance that will bring the perspective each student needs in order to learn the subject.

Which means that it's very important to me to know the content of my subject matter inside and out. Can I explain it from multiple perspectives, can I create activities that stimulate learners of any style (the visual processors, the verbal communicators, the artists, the engineers) to guide them into the topic? And, no matter how they've gotten to their question, will I be able to understand it to also guide them to the answer?

Guiding them (not leading them) to the answer is imperative to me. I'd rather they use a good, clear thought process, and get the wrong answer then have them use a muddy thought process or a simple guess and be right only because I gave them the answer too soon. Can they take their wrong answer and test it again? This is of course a best-practices tactic only on experiments and activities when testing the wrong answer doesn't become dangerous, but will lead them to see that they've obviously made a wrong turn somewhere. Then we can work together to backtrack to where their answer came derailed and try again.

I guess I had more to write then I thought. I hope my philosophy becomes better defined over time, but those seem like good ideas to start with.

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