Observing Master Teachers: How Joy and Purpose Improve Learning

During my last week at Goshen High School, I observed four master teachers in a spectrum of different classes. Throughout my observations, I noted a number of masterful teaching practices that build upon what I have experienced in my own classroom. Marci Husek co-teaches American Experience, a combined English and History class that serves as a stepping-stone to college preparatory classes. Theresa Collins teaches Theory of Knowledge, a required class for students going for the full IB diploma, along with Carl Weaver. Dave Wilson teaches Genetics & Ethics, a mid-level science class for upperclassmen. Laura Younghans, a first-year teacher who attended GHS in high school, teaches Focused English for sophomores. Rather than addressing each teacher and speaking to their individual strengths, I will describe the similarities common among all of these great educators. 

Upon entering all of these classrooms, I noticed the rapport and community that master teachers build with their students.  All four of the master educators I observed have built safe places in their classrooms. All four knew their students and used names as often as possible. Marci started her class by telling a story about her youngest son, and talking conversationally with students.  Dave started class by proclaiming how wonderful a day it was and how he was so glad to see everyone—and his enthusiasm was genuine. Laura talked quietly with a few girls before the bell rang. The students initiated the conversation, and Laura showed them respect by putting down her papers and really paying attention to them. Similarly, before Theresa’s class started, she checked in with two students who have a project due in another class. Theresa showed care and a personal connection by knowing her students and addressing their fears about the assignment. She then began class by checking in with all students by asking about their day so far. It is evident that the students feel safe and comfortable in the classroom and that a sense of community has been built there.

I observed in English, science, theory, and history classes. In every single one of these classes, I saw teachers integrating objectives and goals seamlessly and naturally into the class period. Laura displayed her objectives during students’ independent reading time, which gave wandering eyes something to read. Before diving into content, she read over them and explained how each would be answered in the class. Theresa showed a guiding question on her board, and explained to students that today they would be addressing an IB objective that could be answered by addressing the ethics-related question. In Genetics & Ethics, Dave seamlessly integrated objectives throughout the class period. He began the class by covering the objectives and answering “Why?” He explained to students why they were learning what they were learning, how it related to the class as a whole, and why it mattered in their lives. Throughout the class, Dave returned to the list of objectives as each one was completed, and took time to remind students of the next objective that would be covered. The ease and grace Dave showed in complying with state standards while maintaining a natural flow in his classroom proved to be extremely effective and held students’ attention.

To end, I want to address what I found to be the most masterful aspect of each teacher’s practice: the obvious joy and enthusiasm shown for subject matter. Marci shows her enthusiasm subtly through her constant smile and how she prefaces new ideas or facts with phrases such as “Now this is interesting” or “Girls, you might think about how this relates to your own lives” or “I wish we still used these kinds of words today!” Laura and Theresa both show their joy of learning and enthusiasm for their content through their presentation of information. Both women show that planning and enthusiasm must be used together to create a lesson that will run smoothly and keep students interested. Dave shows his obvious joy through his stream of science-related jokes, his excited pacing, and the connections he makes to students’ real lives. In each classroom, the teacher’s joy and enthusiasm for the subject is evident. This attitude seems to ensure interesting and filled classes, and encourages students to seek the same level of engagement.

Overall, observing these master teachers taught me that it is possible to adhere to state standards and school expectation while maintaining a clear and evident love for what they do. These teachers are all living out their calling, not just working at their jobs.

Finding Shalom in a Broken System

   A five-year-old boy goes to school with a white net over his hair—he has scalp ringworm, and it is very contagious. The little boy goes home, and his parents tell him that the school called, and that he gets to be a part of a program that will cure his ringworm. But, when the little boy goes in for treatments, his body is subjected to radiation. The adults giving the radiation did not know how to use the machine. He hears one of them say, “Oh no! I’ve given him too much!” That amount of radiation should have caused death.
   Now, he lives with a plate-sized wound on his skull. He used to wear wigs; now he wears a beanie. He never got married, never trusted anyone enough to show them his bloody, pus-filled hole. A friend recalls him saying that only 4 people have ever seen it. This is the life of Vertus Hardiman, an African-American man born in 1921. The radiation experiment was performed on him in Lyles Station, Indiana.

   Dr Wilbert Smith, whose documentary Hole in the Head: A Life Revealed delves in Hardiman’s world, spoke on campus this winter as a part of the Martin Luther King Jr Study Weekend. During his community conversation at Umble Center on January 20, 2013, Dr Smith addressed the issues of health care and race, and a Peace and Conflict Studies class provided information regarding the long history of African-American medical experiements. Although Dr Smith’s presentation was not focused on education, much of what he said was directly applicable to the life of a teacher.

   “What are you going to do when the next Vertus Hardiman walks into the room?” asks Dr Smith. “Even if you don’t know that you are, you can be a part of the problem.” Dr Smith challenged us to know others. It is only through recognizing that we have so many similarities, and so few differences, that we can turn our stories into ones that avoid injustices like Hardiman experienced. Regina Shands-Stoltzfus called students to remember that stories are precious, and holding others’ stories is an important part of our work as human beings.

   As an English teacher, the idea of the importance of holding others’ stories really spoke to me. I think of my future classroom—what will they look like? Whether I teach in the suburbs or the inner city, I need to know my students and understand their stories. Multicultural literature is a beautiful way to show students that not only is their story valued, but it a part of the set of writings worth reading. Multicultural literature allows students to take pride in their own experiences and culture, and also reminds them of the importance of knowing others’ stories as well.

   In some sense, English teachers are charged with a more practical goal than other teachers. Gilberto Perez, a professor of social work at Goshen College, reminded the audience that despite the perceptions of Americans, the US is not living in a post-racial society. Teachers, and other authority figures, need to work to eradicate racism. One of the most important steps to its eradication is awareness and acknowledgement of its existence by the younger generations. By carefully selecting the texts, authors, and messages—aiming to widen the literary canon and celebrate authors from all races, religions, ethnicities, and orientations—our community can begin to heal old wounds and prevent new ones. Shalom, a peace and wholeness of body, spirit, and mind, will be possible for us as individuals and our wider community when stories are known and valued.