June 8, 2011 recap

Today was one of those days that teachers dream about. A chance to see all my efforts over the year come full circle.

Here is how it happened.  

We only had three pesukim left to learn in Parshas Vayeitzei. I had the class read the pasukim aloud without teaching them at all. Of course, as we were reading about Yaakov meeting up with the melachim, the class exploded with questions. Was Yaakov in Eretz Yisrael? How could the melachim of Eretz Yisrael come to greet him as Rashi says? Which malachim did he send to Har Seir? Surely not the melachim of Eretz Yisrael. In the beginning of Vayeitzei, he saw the melachim in a dream. Was this in a dream?  The class started flipping forward to Vayishlach to discover more information about the melachim and their journey. 

Finally, we finished the parsha with fifteen minutes to spare before recess. I was in a quandary. The day before, I had quizzed the class on the 30 shorashim in the perek, and they had done review work. I figured we could squeeze in the exciting parsha of behaalosecha in the extra time. Unfortunately, my parsha worksheets were in the office. 

When I told the class my plan they asked if they could learn the next parsha while I was out of the room. I agreed if they kept the noise to a dull roar. I left and got sidetracked at the copier for a few minutes.  When I returned, the students were sitting at the table and at their desks with chavrusas. They excitedly shouted "We finished to Pasuk יא - the eleventh verse!" I asked what that meant. They informed me that they had read and translated seven pasukim and were now asking questions about those pasukim. 

Their eyes shone. They love to learn and know how to learn.

What nachas! 

One of my theories of education is that students need to do the real thing. They don't have Chumash class. They learn Chumash - just like their fathers and mothers do.  As a teacher, my job is to provide them with supports so they can act like the adults. 

A perfect model for this method of education is training wheels on a bicycle. With training wheels, a child learns to ride his bike and the feel of bike riding. Then the training wheels come off, and the parent holds on to the back, providing less support, but still helping the child learn how to ride. Finally, the parent lets go. The child begins to peddle on his own. He may fall a few times, he may wobble at first, but very quickly he rides off on his own. His legs are strong enough, and his sense of balance has been developed so he no longer needs his parents to help him at all. And then a wonderful thing happens, the child begins to bike ride with the parents and they explore new paths together. 

The same thing happens in school. My students know what it means to learn Torah. They see their  parents do it, they see older students do it and they want to do it too. Nebach, they don't have the vocabulary or the maturity  to learn as their parents do. So like the training wheels, they learn with a little help keeping them upright and moving forward.  At first, they got a lot of help with vocabulary and reading. Later, in the year, once they had mastered the basic vocabulary, they only need help with the hard words. Then, the training wheels can come off so they can learn on their own. The final stage is when parent and child, teacher and student begin to learn together as partners in discovering the Torah. The progression must be gradual and deliberate to ensure that the child will get stronger and stronger until they are ready to be independent. 

Today, I saw my theory vindicated. These kids are learning like real masmidim acting like they are sitting in a beis Medrash. They approach learning Torah with a sense of ownership and pride. 

Teaching like this requires a change of mindset.  A teacher can view himself like he is pulling a horse to water, as if he is doing all the hard work in the relationship. But with this attitude, when he is not around, his students won't want to learn. He can view himself like the driver of a car, who determines the roads yet to be travelled. But again, no student wants to go down a path that is determined by others. 

Or, a teacher can view himself like he is that parent, holding on to the back of a bicycle without training wheels. His most fervent hope is that the child will pedal off, leaving the parent waving as he watches his child disappear around the corner with new-found independence. When a teacher teaches with this mindset, the child senses that he is the master of his learning. The child will take ownership for his learning as he is able to set his own course in life and blaze new trails. 

Answering questions.

Teaching elementary school is sweet. The students are uncomplicated. Their hearts are open and they are excited by new ideas. They have questions and want to learn the answers. Unfortunately, many times, the answer to those questions, the true answers, the fullest answers, are simply beyond their grasp. The answers require maturity, awareness of the human condition and abstract reasoning.

By the time they get to high school, many students don't bother with the questions anymore even though they  are ready for the answers. Many are apathetic. Others want to follow a leader and are intimidated by  aura of authority that a teacher has. Some will assume that the teacher is ignorant and foolish and is best ignored.

If you are lucky, you will have  a high school student who still has the questions. She sees through your bravado and challenges you. She demands the  truth.  There is nothing more exciting than when this  energy enters a class. When those real questions are thrown into the air, there is a joy of learning as each side argues, brings proofs and defends  opinions with words and reason. Truth becomes the focus, and Torah emerges.

Somehow, these students are often maligned because they challenge the authority of the teacher. How short sighted.  In life, our students will need to be able to weed out the charismatic charlatan from the truly inspiring. They need to think critically about an idea before buying into it.  The Ramban, Rashi, the Rambam all had that respect for their students. They prove their points using pesukim, maamarei chazal and logic. Yes, there is the mesorah and yes I am their teacher. But, I must establish unequivocably that I have earned that title and place in the chain of Torah transmission.

A  sense of truth should be celebrated.  It also must be encouraged and developed. Students can learn that  any idea should have a basis and can be substantiated. They can learn that they are not being asked to believe based on a relationship with a teacher but because of the strength of the argument.. They also must learn that they are  held accountable for their own opinions and beliefs. They need to know that their belief systems can't be constructed based on a whim but need a firm foundation to be true. 

There is a danger in allowing  students to believe us based on our authority or dynamism.  Becoming a teacher does not give us wisdom of the ages. Teaching is a job, and there is no miraculous transformation that imbues us with supernatural wisdom overnight. I will make mistakes. But the Rishonim, Achronim, Torah and Chazal have stood the test of time and the probing of countless minds. . When I say something, the student is relying on me and their faith is only as strong as my own. But if I give them a proper source, their faith has a  solid foundation on which they can build.

I can relax. Hashem and His Torah are strong enough and secure enough to deal with the probing of an adolescent. I just need to relax and enjoy the next generation's discovery of that power.

Teaching it Right the First Time

I used to teach in High School. It was very rewarding, but at times I felt like pulling out my hair. I couldn't get some kids to remember assignments, translate basic pesukim or recall the story accurately no matter how many times we reviewed. I couldn't figure out where the problem was and how to correct it.

Last night I saw this video - http://www.learner.org/vod/vod_window.html?pid=9 A Private Universe produced by the Annenberg Foundation that made me think about that experience and how what we teach when really impacts kids' lives.

The video is 20 minutes long and traces how both Harvard graduates and high school students had no idea why there are four seasons and different phases of the moon. The video follows one very bright high school student who has bizarre ideas about moon phases and seasons. The video then shows how with the successful intervention of a high school teacher these misconceptions are somewhat laid to rest. However, the brilliant high school student clings to some of the mistaken ideas despite the best efforts of her teacher.

My Ah-ha moment came at about 4 minutes in. The narrator says "These students have had virtually no instruction in science"

I've just spent a good chunk of my life analyzing K-4 science curriculum and I beg to differ. Our kids have not had virtually no instruction in science. The kids learn about seasons in nursery, kindergarten, first grade, and third grade. They learn about the phases of the moon in 3rd grade. If you are lucky, they have had a lot of great instruction in science. If you are not, our kids have had a lot of instruction in science that was superficial, simplistic or incorrect.

The video shows that this initial learning sticks and is very hard to undo. How is a kindergarten teacher supposed to explain the impact of the Earth's revolution and its tilt on the seasons to a bunch of 5 year olds? Teachers try and, in large part, succeed in having the 5 year old understand on a 5 year old level. The problem comes when the learning from kindergarten does not get updated to match the sophistication of the other learning. Someone needs to explicitly challenge a student's kindergarten level idea to update these basic concepts. Sometimes the reteaching works, often times it does not. One might argue that it is better to avoid teaching something rather than teach it on such a simplistic level that it is essentially incorrect.

Chazal have already taught us that girsa d'yankusa - what we learn when we are young - leaves an indelible impression on us. If simplistic or incorrect explanations mess up a Harvard graduates's understanding of the universe, what does learning incorrect or simplistic Torah do to our children? How many of us have absurd notions of the Avos and Imahos because we have not updated our knowledge to our current level of sophistication? How many of us envision Rochel Imeinu sitting on a camel outside her tent because of the parsha pictures we have seen as little kids? Do we ever question whether our ideas are grounded in Torah?

This year I am teaching third grade.Today, I was teaching the topic of Yaakov getting Esav's bracha from Yitzchak. Even at eight years old, the kids had preconcieved notions of what was in the pesukim. When challenged they said to me " I don't know where it says it, but I know it is true." Exploding these ideas took hard work, but once I made the kids look at the pesukim they were astounded how much of the story they really did not know. Only then, were we ready to learn.

There is nothing simple about teaching elementary school. In everything I do, I am laying the foundation for their ability to learn in the future. I teach them shorashim, how to translate pesukim, read Rashi, halacha, and parsha. I also teach them how to keep an organized binder, hand in homework responsibly, and be a mentch. I want them to succeed in high school where my other students never had the chance.

The seforim I used to teach high school are still open on my desk. Each day, I have to evaluate what I should teach and what ideas are too complex and can only be taught when the students gain a greater level of sophistication. Yesterday, I taught what I thought was a great Rashi for third grade. The words were easy, and there were a few new vocabulary words I wanted to reinforce. The Rashi said that Rivka asked Yaakov to bring two goats to serve Yitzchak because one would be a replacement for Esav's dish and one would be for the Korban Pesach. We rewrote the rashi script and translated the words. All was great until one student raised her hand. "How could Rivka make a korban Pesach if they hadn't gone down to Mitzrayim yet?" Uh-Oh. I didn't see that one coming. How do I explain the eternity of Torah law and its influence on historical events to eight year olds? Would a superficial answer corrupt them from learning it completely when they are ready? Or, could I teach them something true and understandable on their level?

I make these decisions everyday when teaching third grade. I know the other teachers are equally concerned about teaching truth to the students from the time they are in nursery. I have made some mistakes and that is an awful responsibility. But having these goal in mind helps minimize those mistakes.

As parents and educators, we must always envision our children as being our Harvard graduates. We must see them as the bright, capable adults they will become and teach them so that they will be successful when they get there. We must realize that what they learn as toddlers and children will impact the heights they reach as adults. It's an awesome responsibility and priviledge that we are entrusted with. A lot of faith has been placed in us and we just have to work to do it right.