Currere: Final Installment

Well I turned it in, and felt great about it (and did great!).  :)  I dreaded writing it, but I actually really enjoyed it.  It was definitely a new way of "scholarly writing" that I hadn't experienced.  My "theme" ended up being about relationships, which, although I'd never identified it before, makes complete sense.  I am regularly overwhelmed by all the incredible people I have in my life!  So yes, relationships!  This conclusion wasn't nearly as reflective in voice, so pardon the dry scholarly writing.  But I'm happy with the overall message.  :)  I decided to include just a few excerpts.

Sowing the Seeds

     It appears that what has led me to where I am today in my education and ways of teaching were expectations that I would do nothing but succeed in school, experiencing my own humility, being pushed beyond my own aspirations, and realizing the spirit of passion.  Each of these were harvested through meaningful relationships with my family, my children, my teachers, and my mentors... We are all vested in some way [in our education system], so we need to work together to make it a better system.  It can’t be “the other guy’s” job...  Rather than dividing ourselves, often staking claims on opposite sides of the spectrum, we need to work together for the good of our students, of our children, of our society.  As Muhatma Ghandi states, “Be the change you wish to see in the world”. 

     This framework creates a caring classroom of relationships based on respect, trust, competence, personal regard for others, integrity, and high expectations with support (Bryk & Scheider, 2002; Rogers & Renard, 1999). “…community is not just a place to live but an active way to live together… As classroom relationships build community, the community becomes a vital force in learning” (Wolk, 2003, p. 39).
      ...As Grumet (1993) states, “The world we make for children will never be any better than the world we make with each other” (p. 207)...  Our actions are contagious and we can lead by example.  While I can’t force others to change ways, I can push myself to be better.  I need to guide others as I have been guided.  I need to set expectations, encourage compassion, foster potential, and exude passion not only in my own children and in my own students, but in everyone I meet and interact with – and push them to do the same.  Pay it forward. 

 

It's seriously ridiculous how emotional I get about this stuff.  I was relieved to see another student cry as she discussed hers -- I cried everytime I read my draft!  I'm just so passionate about education and my job.  Geek happy!  ;)

 

 “Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot,

Nothing is going to get better. It's not.”

~Dr. Seuss~

The Never Ending Currere...

Almost there!  Added sources in this morning (they're in my formal paper, but I'm not adding them to my blog postings) and now I'm just perusing some additional resources to see if I need any final touches.

Blossoming Passion

     Even after completing my Master’s, which I never dreamed of doing, I was pushed to continue for my doctorate.  But what would I go into?  I wouldn’t say the desire to continue was internal – it was pressure at work and the innate desire to take advantage of the fee waiver benefit (I’m a sucker for a bargain).  These external forces led the drive for the program I chose.  With three degrees from Boise State, it was recommended I look at another institution, but the fee waiver only applied to Idaho public schools, of which there are a limited number that offer graduate programs.  I was also slightly limited in choices based on my previous education in health information (in which no doctoral degree exists in the country) and K-12 education (a program that constantly required me to push the boundaries to apply concepts to post-secondary schooling).  In addition, I was told that a PhD held more value in academia than an EdD.  I settled on a PhD program in adult education.  I rushed to complete the GRE when I was three-months pregnant (rushing because I kept avoiding it, unsure in what to study or how) and started taking classes while I awaited my acceptance (or denial).
     This program a distance education program, a new undertaking for me.  I had taken hybrid courses at the undergraduate level, but didn’t have much experience in entirely online education.  At first I liked the freedom, autonomy, and the fact that I had time to process my thoughts before replying in a discussion.  It was also nice considering the fact that I had a toddler and baby on the way (or a toddler and newborn once accepted).  But I was just missing something.  I had lost my passion for school.  I enrolled in classes and did the minimum work required to get the A that I wanted (but didn’t truly feel I had earned), but I didn’t really engage with the content, the instructor, or other students.  I found the instructors absent and discussions with other students superficial and empty.  According to Wolk (2003), “Classrooms and curriculum must be interesting, intellectual, critical, creative, purposeful, communal, and highly relevant…Getting students genuinely interested in what they are doing in school develops good classroom relationships and learning” (p. 40).  I met with my advisor regularly, typically coming far more prepared than he ever was and leaving with no better sense of direction.  I was thrilled to finally have an in-person seminar class after more than a year in the program, only to find that I still made little to no connection with the faculty (which rotated at each meeting – once a month).  The teacher-student relationship is a key component of the classroom, and can help or hinder learning (Wolk, 2003).  I was simply going through the motions to get the degree to satisfy the expectations of my faculty position. 
     One day, in the middle of a family vacation to California, as we were driving to San Francisco (one of my favorite cities), I received news that changed everything.  Loren showed me an article describing the discontinuation of the fee waiver program for online classes at my university.  Initially, I was devastated.  I sobbed the entire way into the city.  Poor Loren was blindsided by my overreaction.  I was in a program that I didn’t like that I had already invested two years into, and the one thing that kept me going was the fact that it cost me next to nothing.  The thought of paying regular tuition for such a disappointing program turned my stomach.  Upon my return home from vacation I decided to pursue other options – I looked into Boise State’s EdD program.  It is funny now to think of how absolutely devastated I was at the initial news, when it led to one of the best decisions I’ve made in my education.  I started classes at Boise State the following semester and was soon accepted into the program.  I’m over a year in and I have loved every single class I’ve taken.  I am engaged, I am inspired, I am motivated, I am enlightened.  I have made personal connections with every one of my faculty and many fellow students.  Which begs the question, what is so different?  For one, this program is in-person.  There is a big push for online education and I absolutely see the benefits in terms of access, but it is so challenging to make meaningful connections online and far too easy to remain disengaged.  I have also learned since leaving my previous program that it has been (and possibly continues to be) in a bit of turmoil, with negative external reviews and faculty turnover (and perhaps low morale).  When a teacher is discontent in her job, it shows and it reflects in the classroom and on the students.  How can one teach passion without demonstrating it?  How can one expect engagement when she is not herself engaged?  How can one set high expectations when she doesn’t hold the same for herself?  In my faculty now I see a love of teaching, of subject material, of learning.  I see passion and a desire to be better, to do better, to achieve more.  And I see an expectation for the same in students.

 

And yes, I am writing this for class, and yes, I completely comprehend that this sounds like brown-nosing -- but you all know I'm nerd enough to actually love this stuff.  :P

 

“So be sure when you step, Step with care and great tact.
And remember that life's A Great Balancing Act.
And will you succeed? Yes! You will, indeed!
(98 and ¾ percent guaranteed)
Kid, you'll move mountains.”
~Dr. Seuss~

Tres Currere

Having some serious problems finding good sources, but had fun writing the reflective part.  :)  This one is about a very important person in my life, Patt.  But I also hope it extends a thank you to all of my past and current teachers and mentors.  It's really amazing what you can do when you're surrounded by wonderful people.  :)

Nurturing Potential

When I started in college I really had no idea what I wanted to be.  I hadn’t ever really been overly passionate or good at anything (other than school).  I do like detail and organization, and have always been interested in the sciences.  I decided I might like something in healthcare.  I took basic core classes the first year and then worked on pre-requisites for the radiologic sciences program.  I even set up a shadowing experience right before the program application was due – and it saved me!  I was uncomfortable, disappointed at the idea that I might have to do the same thing all day (I remember the radiological technologist saying that one day you might just do barium enemas all day long), not fond of the potential hours, turned off by the idea that I might have to deal with so many bodily fluids (really, I just wanted to do ultrasounds on pregnant women – I hadn’t considered everything else I’d have to do to get there), and had no clue what to do when the girl that was with me passed out (I completely froze).  I decided a clinical profession might not be for me, but I was still interested in healthcare.  I stumbled across the Health Information Technology program in the BSU catalog (I seriously just went page after page through the entire catalog), which led me to Dr. Patt Elison-Bowers.  Knowing Patt as well as I do now, I can reflect on how excited she was to see me.  As the only non-patient-care clinical program in the college, the program doesn’t usually draw the top students – it tends to get the leftovers.  Patt took one look at my straight-A transcript and immediately saw my potential.  It’s not that I think every single straight-A student is destined for greatness; nor do I think every non-straight-A student is not; but Patt is an incredibly intuitive person who regularly takes on “projects” (as in people).  I hadn’t a clue at the time, but she was already planning my future.  She mentored me through the program and insisted I teach the lab component of a class for another faculty, Linda Osgood.  I was terrified, but as I like to please, I said sure.  I was incredibly shy and hated public speaking.  The thought of being in front of a class, being in charge, was mortifying.  I think I did an ok job, but by no means knocked it out of the park.  But I had apparently done a good enough job in the program that I was on Patt and Linda’s radar.  I obtained a coding job at a local hospital while still completing  my bachelor’s and started full-time upon graduation.  Graduate school was never a consideration.  Nor was teaching.  I had loved the coding job at a part-time status while going to school, but it didn’t take long for me to become bored with it on a full-time basis.  I missed school.  I missed the school schedule.  I felt unchallenged, found little to look forward to, was frustrated by the low response to change (when I suggested more efficient ways of doing things), and just felt like something was missing.  I needed something with more meaning.  I needed a job that meant something to me, that made me feel like I was contributing to something bigger.  The semester before I graduated one (of three) of the health information faculty at BSU retired, the coding instructor.  A friend of mine at the hospital, Carolyn (a fellow coder), applied and got the position.  Upon starting she discovered she was pregnant and decided that she wanted to be home with her baby.  They found a temporary teacher for the following semester, and the positioned opened up again.    Carolyn had encouraged me to apply as soon as she knew she was leaving.  I thought she was nuts.  Although after doing repeated class presentations in my last year of college had eased my public speaking fears slightly, the thought of being in charge of a class was overwhelming.  Then Patt called and also encouraged me to apply.  I wasn’t overly happy where I was, I wanted something more, and apparently others thought it was a good fit.  I decided to go for it.  It is slightly evident to me now that this is actually what Patt had planned all along.  She pushed for me to get that job (pushed both myself and her dean) and look where I am today.  I accepted a half-time “teacher” position (non-tenure track faculty position) and continued to work at the hospital.  The following year I also took a half-time professional staff position as a pre-professional studies advisor and worked on a per diem basis at the hospital.  With the fee waiver benefit I couldn’t pass up going back to school, so I pursued my Master’s in Education.  Again, with no intention of going beyond that.  Patt continued to mentor me and made sure I was offered her tenure-track position when she left our college, again pushing me into new areas (like research) and further pursuing higher education.  After having my daughter I enrolled in a PhD program in Adult Education.  I have since switched degrees, but am still pursuing my doctorate.  Patt has mentored me every step of the way, preparing me for my promotion and tenure application submission this year (I’m only one step away!).  Knowing Patt so well now, I can see that she had big plans for me – far beyond what I had ever dreamed for myself.  I would never be where I am today without her guidance and expectations.  She wouldn’t let me not live up to my potential.  Even today she continues to push me.  This was the meaning I was missing.  If I can inspire/support just one student in doing something they thought they couldn’t, my mission is accomplished.  As I continue to teach, each year I have new students with new problems.  Students that never thought they’d get a college degree.  A student whose dad said she wouldn’t ever amount to anything.  A student who was ostracized from her family and religion because college is not the place for women, but pushed through it anyway.  A single dad with a severely disabled daughter that worked full-time and went to school full-time because he wanted to set a good example and wanted to find that job with the meaning he was looking for (just like me).  A student whose wife passed away suddenly and unexpectedly mid-semester, and he was still able to successfully complete all of his courses.  Several other students who suffered parental and family deaths but endured on.  All of these students with so many odds stacked against them, that push through.  I would never claim to take credit for that, but to be a part of that student’s journey and to see them accomplish something so great, to beat the odds, to finish in the face of doubt, illness, and grief – the honor is beyond words.  I can’t imagine myself in another profession that would feel so rewarding.  Every year I get to be a part of so many journeys and it’s all because one person, a teacher, looked at me, saw my potential, and guided me not only in the right direction, but along the way.  This is what teachers can do for students – see them for far greater than they see themselves.

 “Out there things can happen, and frequently do,
To people as brainy and footsy as you.
And when things start to happen, don't worry, don't stew.
Just go right along, you'll start happening too!” 
― Dr. Seuss, Oh, the Places You'll Go!

Currere - Part Deux

A short section, but very important in my reflection... (and a little harder to share)

Cultivating Compassion

As a person who avoids conflict and aims for her comfort zone, I tend to stick to and do the things I’m good at.  I’ve stuck with education because I’m good at school, I went into coding because I picked it up right away in the classroom (that, and it was the job offered!), and I’m still in education because I’m good at it.  All of these things have contributed to my confidence – but that was shattered when I became a mother.  My world turned upside down.  I didn’t change a thing when I was pregnant – I still went 100%, I worked, I exercised, I refused to let it interrupt my semester (I managed to finish my semester with ONE day to spare).  And then I had my daughter.  I had absolutely no idea what to do with this new thing, this person, this tiny helpless being that depended entirely on me.  I was lost.  I wasn’t in school, I wasn’t teaching for the summer.  I was home.  With a baby.  And no clue.  I had read plenty of books prior to delivering and continued to reference them and the internet after her arrival.  But none of it helped.  I would follow everything the books said but it wouldn’t work (some was helpful and I do realize now that I wasn’t necessarily reading the right things, but it was very discouraging at the time).  Don’t let your baby sleep with you.  But she looks so tiny and lonely in that big crib.  Breastfeeding is natural.  Then why am I still struggling after weeks?  You’ll instantly feel the most overwhelming love when you see your baby for the first time.  I don’t.  I resent her.  I’m a horrible mother.  I continuously questioned my decision and my aptitude as a parent.  In fact, I continue to question my ability as a parent every day.  I have never been so self-doubting about anything in my life.  Parenting just brings about so many unknowns and is so contradicted in our society.  What made me think I am capable of being responsible for raising another human?  This self-doubt and discomfort eventually led to acceptance (although I have to remind myself constantly) and has helped me grow immensely.   I am more in touch with myself, with my emotions, and with others.  I feel a deeper bond with my students, connecting with them on a different level than I allowed myself to before.  Understanding how it feels to be so overwhelmed it consumes your very being.  And how it feels to ask for help.  Experiencing the grey area that isn’t addressed in textbooks and rarely discussed in the classroom.  Realizing that sometimes you just have to do what feels right, to you, in that moment, regardless of what society, experts, textbooks, or your parents, family, neighbors, or friends say.

I did get some feedback from my professor.  I just need to add in sources (which I knew, just wasn't sure where to start!) and finish my "future" reflection (which I haven't even started).  Guess I better get on it -- it's due Thursday.  :)

“I know, up on top you are seeing great sights, but down here at the bottom we, too, should have rights.” ― Dr. Seuss, Yertle the Turtle and Gertrude McFuzz