The other week I asked Monica how she provided feedback to students when they're writing in class. Do I crane over their shoulders and make comments, do I just respond to students who have questions? She said she's always gotten down on her knees next to the student. "Not very dignified," she acknowledged, "but it stops it from seeming like I'm towering over them."
I've adopted the practice, and when students write, I bob around the room, up to walk and down to read and make suggestions. These low-stakes check-ins with the students seem to build trust as well. I'm not the examiner of their writing as much as their partner on it. At least, that's the way I want to appear. I didn't do that at all last year. I just waited for the writing period to be over. Now, the periods where they're writing are some of my most tiring and most rewarding. The feedback that I give students while they're writing, especially when it stems from their own questions, feels more effective than anything I write in red pen that they see days later and might, just might remember to apply on the next assignment.
Yesterday I was quite out of sorts worrying about how to introduce the following question in my eleventh grade HL language and literature class:
How might two readers interpret the text differently?
For one of their external assessments they must write a critical essay that responds to one of six questions. So far I've been structuring our once-a-week HL session around getting to understand these questions better.
My main predicament was, do I give them something based on the text we're reading, or do I engage the essence of the question through different stimuli. Eventually I want them to be able to respond to this question by considering the perspectives relevant to TFA, like the Umuofians, present-day Nigerians, Europeans, women in more and less patriarchal settings than Umuofia... But I doubted whether they would be ready to jump into those perspectives right away. For example, I considered showing them different images about "progress" in Nigeria over the 100 since our story's setting. Various sources tout the economic progress, the boon to the economy that the discovery of oil provided, and the development of the society based on GDP etc. I thought I might ask them to consider how descendants of tribal Nigerians would view these announcements of "progress" under the European colonists' control.
When I picked up the new copy of This Week in Palestine (an English language cultural magazine) in the library, I looked at the pictures of the Palestinian landscape in it and thought, "I bet the students would *get* the different interpretations of certain views of Palestine. So I collected photos of Palestine-related images that the students could identify different interpretations of.
I was quite nervous, though, about introducing this potentially emotional stimulus into the class. I asked Monica about it and she noted that such discussions can get heated and I should have a contingency plan and be ready to "shut down" the activity if students got too impassioned for the classroom.
This morning before school I practiced a speech in which I told the students that mature conversations about political topics require both high analytical thinking ability, which they have, and an ability to have a measured, reasonable discussion about something they feel strongly about. I delivered the speech at the beginning of class, and we proceeded to discuss the following images. No shut-down required, I'm pleased to report.
We started out all together with this image:
We set about establishing how four different readers might interpret this sign.
Jeneen offered the opinion of a Palestinian teenager, who felt that it was a funny sign because it presented such a ridiculous misrepresentation of what Palestine is like by implying that it's "dangerous to your lives".
Murad pointed out that an older Palestinian, one who had been alive since long before the first Intifada, would feel angry about this sign, particularly because it would represent a deterioration of the Israeli-Palestinian situation since before 1987, when this sign didn't exist because Palestine wasn't chopped into zones A, B, and C. He also mentioned the anger he would feel at his country being referred to as a mere "area".
Layal assumed the identity of a 30-year-old German intern at a company in Israel, largely ignorant of Palestinian society. He would be scared by this sign, and scared to enter Palestine, this strange place behind the big wall, which would be visible from the checkpoint where the sign is posted.
Ahmad spoke on behalf of the Israeli 18-year-old who would feel good about himself and how civilised he was in comparison to the dangerous beings that exist in Area A. He might also feel indignant though, that this land which he considers part of Israel is not open to him.
After our class discussion Zein told me that she thought a Palestinian teenager would feel glad about this sign. She said she feels satisfied that Israelis would fear Palestinians. It gave her a sense of power over them, when so much of the power is stacked in the other direction.
After our group discussion, each pair got its own photo to work with. For each photo I've included one of the four readers they described.
German foreigner: "OH MY GOD, IT JUST LOOKS LIKE THE BERLIN WALL, BUT KIND OF BIGGER." It's a symbol of a racist, discriminating regime that aims to divide people and ruin their lives.
American, 50 years old
This makes her feel that everything is going to be all right as long as the negotiations go on. And that this whole issue could end as long as both sides agree on peace terms.
Radical Israeli Mom:
Astonishment at how a Palestinian mother would let her kid go out and do such a horrible thing. He must be raised barbarically, radically, viciously. Disgusted by how a child who is meant to have a pure soul is out fighting against what's right. She hates Palestinians and wishes they would all die. She thinks "this land belongs to us."
Palestinian teenager:
Feels anger and rage due to metal wires and stolen religious area. Feels sadness, disappointment of what has become of this beautiful holy place. Feels disgusted by Jews. Feels the urge to resist force.
German tourist
Omg, they are civilised. Such wannabes. I didn't know they have parties. I thought they all live in tents. And I also thought they they were strict Arab muslims.
I've adopted the practice, and when students write, I bob around the room, up to walk and down to read and make suggestions. These low-stakes check-ins with the students seem to build trust as well. I'm not the examiner of their writing as much as their partner on it. At least, that's the way I want to appear. I didn't do that at all last year. I just waited for the writing period to be over. Now, the periods where they're writing are some of my most tiring and most rewarding. The feedback that I give students while they're writing, especially when it stems from their own questions, feels more effective than anything I write in red pen that they see days later and might, just might remember to apply on the next assignment.
Yesterday I was quite out of sorts worrying about how to introduce the following question in my eleventh grade HL language and literature class:
How might two readers interpret the text differently?
For one of their external assessments they must write a critical essay that responds to one of six questions. So far I've been structuring our once-a-week HL session around getting to understand these questions better.
My main predicament was, do I give them something based on the text we're reading, or do I engage the essence of the question through different stimuli. Eventually I want them to be able to respond to this question by considering the perspectives relevant to TFA, like the Umuofians, present-day Nigerians, Europeans, women in more and less patriarchal settings than Umuofia... But I doubted whether they would be ready to jump into those perspectives right away. For example, I considered showing them different images about "progress" in Nigeria over the 100 since our story's setting. Various sources tout the economic progress, the boon to the economy that the discovery of oil provided, and the development of the society based on GDP etc. I thought I might ask them to consider how descendants of tribal Nigerians would view these announcements of "progress" under the European colonists' control.
When I picked up the new copy of This Week in Palestine (an English language cultural magazine) in the library, I looked at the pictures of the Palestinian landscape in it and thought, "I bet the students would *get* the different interpretations of certain views of Palestine. So I collected photos of Palestine-related images that the students could identify different interpretations of.
I was quite nervous, though, about introducing this potentially emotional stimulus into the class. I asked Monica about it and she noted that such discussions can get heated and I should have a contingency plan and be ready to "shut down" the activity if students got too impassioned for the classroom.
This morning before school I practiced a speech in which I told the students that mature conversations about political topics require both high analytical thinking ability, which they have, and an ability to have a measured, reasonable discussion about something they feel strongly about. I delivered the speech at the beginning of class, and we proceeded to discuss the following images. No shut-down required, I'm pleased to report.
We started out all together with this image:
 |
| The sign that greets travellers driving from Israel into the West Bank |
We set about establishing how four different readers might interpret this sign.
Jeneen offered the opinion of a Palestinian teenager, who felt that it was a funny sign because it presented such a ridiculous misrepresentation of what Palestine is like by implying that it's "dangerous to your lives".
Murad pointed out that an older Palestinian, one who had been alive since long before the first Intifada, would feel angry about this sign, particularly because it would represent a deterioration of the Israeli-Palestinian situation since before 1987, when this sign didn't exist because Palestine wasn't chopped into zones A, B, and C. He also mentioned the anger he would feel at his country being referred to as a mere "area".
Layal assumed the identity of a 30-year-old German intern at a company in Israel, largely ignorant of Palestinian society. He would be scared by this sign, and scared to enter Palestine, this strange place behind the big wall, which would be visible from the checkpoint where the sign is posted.
Ahmad spoke on behalf of the Israeli 18-year-old who would feel good about himself and how civilised he was in comparison to the dangerous beings that exist in Area A. He might also feel indignant though, that this land which he considers part of Israel is not open to him.
After our class discussion Zein told me that she thought a Palestinian teenager would feel glad about this sign. She said she feels satisfied that Israelis would fear Palestinians. It gave her a sense of power over them, when so much of the power is stacked in the other direction.
After our group discussion, each pair got its own photo to work with. For each photo I've included one of the four readers they described.
 |
| A goatherd and the separation wall behind him |
German foreigner: "OH MY GOD, IT JUST LOOKS LIKE THE BERLIN WALL, BUT KIND OF BIGGER." It's a symbol of a racist, discriminating regime that aims to divide people and ruin their lives.
 |
| Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas and Israeli PM Benjamin Natanyahu |
American, 50 years old
This makes her feel that everything is going to be all right as long as the negotiations go on. And that this whole issue could end as long as both sides agree on peace terms.
 |
| A Palestinian throwing rocks at the separation wall |
Radical Israeli Mom:
Astonishment at how a Palestinian mother would let her kid go out and do such a horrible thing. He must be raised barbarically, radically, viciously. Disgusted by how a child who is meant to have a pure soul is out fighting against what's right. She hates Palestinians and wishes they would all die. She thinks "this land belongs to us."
 |
| The Temple Mount and Al Aqsa mosque in Jerusalem, the third most important holy site for Muslims and inaccessible to most. |
Palestinian teenager:
Feels anger and rage due to metal wires and stolen religious area. Feels sadness, disappointment of what has become of this beautiful holy place. Feels disgusted by Jews. Feels the urge to resist force.
 |
| The Taybeh brewery Oktober Fest in the West Bank |
German tourist
Omg, they are civilised. Such wannabes. I didn't know they have parties. I thought they all live in tents. And I also thought they they were strict Arab muslims.
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