Unexpected Gems…

Those of you who are teachers will understand this moment perfectly. Those of you who aren't have still probably experienced a time when something wholly unexpected but also wholly welcomed happened in the course of doing what you always do. Let me explain.

I'm currently part of a small group of faculty who are teaching a pilot version of our second semester writing course. Instead of it being centered on reading and studying literature, we're moving the course to be argument and research based. Students need more instruction in writing for an academic setting and the English department is trying to be the flagship in moving that direction. So, in these pilot courses, students are working on a big project that will sustain them through a substantial research project and beyond. A couple of the sections are focusing on a very specific issue -- that of global climate change. Now, anyone who knows me (and specifically knows me as a teacher) knows that I really don't like controversial issues and politics. I think they are important, of course, but I've never felt comfortable seeking out the inherent conflict and debate that are part of those issues. So, in the classroom, I tend to find other ways to teach skills like research and critical thinking and argument. So, for my own version of the pilot, I decided to go broad and bank on the fact that students would be able to find something of interest in a broad topic and have the opportunity to seek out or avoid political debates according to their desire. The broad topic I chose to focus on is Community. Being that we are at a community college and the students and I are engaged in a 'forced community' within the classroom, it seemed perfect. There are so many places you can go when looking at all the communities you are in, how they function or don't function, how they struggle, what their goals and values are, and what you do when two of your communities conflict. In short, it seems like the possibilities are inexhaustible.

Since I'm working on some of this stuff from a very new perspective, I decided to start with what's known as a 'diagnostic essay'. This horrifically named beast is simply a writing prompt that gets students engaging with the course content while providing the instructor with some basic ideas about backgrounds and general writing ability. I usually ask students about their experiences with literature or have them reflect on their strengths and weaknesses in their writing. This time, however, I decided to go more general. I asked students two questions, with no intention that they should link them. The first question was "What is argument" and was meant to touch on the writing side of the class. We'd be looking at the elements of classical argument and I wanted them to start down the path of thinking about that definition in addition to the immediate mental image of people shouting at each other. The second question was "What is community" and that one was to touch on the content side. Sitting in a class at community college thinking about what community was a great way to start the process of critical thinking and finding ways to put themselves into the formal conversations happening all around them.

Many of the essays were two separate thoughts – one about argument and one about community, which is entirely what I expected and took no issue with. A few students, however, actually started to join the two terms and as I read these, I began to see that there was much more going on here that I had perhaps originally thought about or intended. These are the moments that awaken the hearts of teachers and remind them of why they are teaching. These are the gems in what would otherwise be an ordinary assignment – satisfying, but not remarkable in a larger sense. This sense of joy and discovery was culminated in one sentence by one student and it has completely changed how I look at this course. I'm not sure anyone outside the context of the course and my experiences with it will get it completely. But, let me preface by saying that my interaction with the course (not the students themselves) has been rocky. There's been quite a bit of soul-searching and self-doubting struggle as I tried to figure out if I could even TEACH it. You see, unlike some other professions, teachers often get very worked up about whether or not what we are doing is valid, useful, and sustainable for the students; for many, teaching is not so much a job as an entire way of existing that is ever-present. I may not always be analyzing your grammar, but I'm always a teacher in some way or another. My students are always with me. So, anyway, suffice it to say that I'd been agonizing over the course and when I finally sat down to read the very first assignment I had given on the very first day, I realized that somehow, I had asked the right questions. As I said, it can best be illustrated by a single sentence in a single essay, and this is what the student said:

"Although an argument is often what pulls and separates people apart, it's a community that brings them together" - M. Alfieri

In that one sentence lies the key to teaching the course. There are places to go from here, questions to ask, statements to challenge, waters to muddy – but that one sentence is enough for me to see beyond the next class meeting and see where we are going and many of the paths by which we might get there. This is learning that goes both ways across the proverbial desk. And that is what teaching is all about.