#TBT: The Disaster Lesson
In honor of #tbt (throwback thursday), every Thursday will be a reflection on an event in my teaching career that has gotten me to this point. Some will be amazing stories of success, others will hopefully leave you laughing, and some might be a bit dark. It will also involve some old photo of me....that part should be fun.
The first lesson I ever taught had to do with proportions. I remember that my partner and I were given a 7th grade classroom as part of our first practicum in college. We met a couple of times leading up to our assigned teaching day, and prepared a pretty cool lesson. We were going to have the students count the number of times they were able to shoot a ball into a basket for one minute, then use that to find how many shots they should expect to make after two minutes, five minutes, and fifteen minutes. We gathered our supplies and were on our way.
As to no surprise, the students were really eager to do the ball portion of the activity. They merrily tossed the ball as their partner counted the number of shots they made, then we switched it around and the other person got a turn. They recorded their results and went back to their seats to work on the question portion of the activity. It was at this moment that I realized I might not be so good at this teaching thing...
Almost every student had no idea how to do proportions. In our lesson plan design, we had forgotten to cover how to properly set up proportions and what proportions even were. We ended up scrambling around the classroom helping each group while our supporting teacher sat back to watch. It felt like an utter disaster. That feeling of having a classroom full of confused eyes staring back at you; it was haunting. They simply did not understand what I was hoping they would.
I remember the car ride home. I was with three other future teachers, and the two in front had a great first lesson. My partner and I in the back said nothing. I glanced at my phone several times, eventually writing a message to my mom, "That was a disaster." It was tough because this was my senior year of college, and I began doubting if I could actually be a teacher at this point. If I cannot effectively write good lesson plans and teach them to my students, then what was I doing? I began to scramble and figure out other careers I could have with my math degree. Defeated is the right word for my feelings in the moment.
In hindsight I know exactly what went wrong, and it was a problem I would continue to have for awhile. I did not meet my students where they were. My partner and I focused on the activity instead of the ability; we never thought about doing a quick assessment to see what our students already knew. If we had done that, we would have quickly realized that we needed to conduct a mini-lesson on proportions. The though simply never crossed our minds. I am also appreciative that our supporting teacher never interfered. Some people over the years have commented that the teacher should have interjected and offered assistance or made suggestions during the lesson, but it was a great learning moment for us and we were able to work through a panic moment that could easily happen when we have a classroom of our own.
The best thing that came out of that day was the skill of self-assessment. I became a better evaluator of myself and my classroom thanks to what I now refer to as "The Disaster Lesson" among friends and coworkers. It was a bad enough lesson that made me question my abilities in my future profession, but more importantly, it humbled me. I thought I was going to be this great teacher automatically, but thanks to this lesson I now had to work harder to better understand teaching. I wish more people before they decided to become teachers got to see what really goes into making a proper lesson. It is not just have your notes ready, write them on the board, then assign book work. A well thought-out lesson involves considering factors such as "What do my students previously know?" and "How will I help students that are still struggling toward the end of the lesson?" among other things. These are questions I neglected for my first lesson, but now think about them every time I write a plan.
Two of the posters hanging in my dorm room freshman year at JMU,
and the beginning of what would eventually be known as my "picture face"
The first lesson I ever taught had to do with proportions. I remember that my partner and I were given a 7th grade classroom as part of our first practicum in college. We met a couple of times leading up to our assigned teaching day, and prepared a pretty cool lesson. We were going to have the students count the number of times they were able to shoot a ball into a basket for one minute, then use that to find how many shots they should expect to make after two minutes, five minutes, and fifteen minutes. We gathered our supplies and were on our way.
As to no surprise, the students were really eager to do the ball portion of the activity. They merrily tossed the ball as their partner counted the number of shots they made, then we switched it around and the other person got a turn. They recorded their results and went back to their seats to work on the question portion of the activity. It was at this moment that I realized I might not be so good at this teaching thing...
Almost every student had no idea how to do proportions. In our lesson plan design, we had forgotten to cover how to properly set up proportions and what proportions even were. We ended up scrambling around the classroom helping each group while our supporting teacher sat back to watch. It felt like an utter disaster. That feeling of having a classroom full of confused eyes staring back at you; it was haunting. They simply did not understand what I was hoping they would.
I remember the car ride home. I was with three other future teachers, and the two in front had a great first lesson. My partner and I in the back said nothing. I glanced at my phone several times, eventually writing a message to my mom, "That was a disaster." It was tough because this was my senior year of college, and I began doubting if I could actually be a teacher at this point. If I cannot effectively write good lesson plans and teach them to my students, then what was I doing? I began to scramble and figure out other careers I could have with my math degree. Defeated is the right word for my feelings in the moment.
In hindsight I know exactly what went wrong, and it was a problem I would continue to have for awhile. I did not meet my students where they were. My partner and I focused on the activity instead of the ability; we never thought about doing a quick assessment to see what our students already knew. If we had done that, we would have quickly realized that we needed to conduct a mini-lesson on proportions. The though simply never crossed our minds. I am also appreciative that our supporting teacher never interfered. Some people over the years have commented that the teacher should have interjected and offered assistance or made suggestions during the lesson, but it was a great learning moment for us and we were able to work through a panic moment that could easily happen when we have a classroom of our own.
The best thing that came out of that day was the skill of self-assessment. I became a better evaluator of myself and my classroom thanks to what I now refer to as "The Disaster Lesson" among friends and coworkers. It was a bad enough lesson that made me question my abilities in my future profession, but more importantly, it humbled me. I thought I was going to be this great teacher automatically, but thanks to this lesson I now had to work harder to better understand teaching. I wish more people before they decided to become teachers got to see what really goes into making a proper lesson. It is not just have your notes ready, write them on the board, then assign book work. A well thought-out lesson involves considering factors such as "What do my students previously know?" and "How will I help students that are still struggling toward the end of the lesson?" among other things. These are questions I neglected for my first lesson, but now think about them every time I write a plan.
Comments
Post a Comment