Teaching Philosophy
By Laura K Davis
Implicit within any moment of teaching is the possibility for active, meaningful learning and growth both on the part of the students and on the part of the teacher. The classroom constitutes an exciting and varying place, one that is made up of different students and teachers with diverse and changing interests, backgrounds, knowledge, personal motivations, and agendas. Within the disciplines of English and Writing Studies, learning and growth occur when we understand the classroom as a network of social relations that engages the strengths of students and teachers; when knowledge is not latent but dynamic—produced through interaction and inquiry; and when students and teachers continually reconstruct and transform their methods of reading and writing, their perspectives on literature and culture. Taking seriously John Dewey’s understanding of “capacity” not as receptivity but as an “ability, a power,” his understanding of ‘potential” not as a dormant state but rather as “potency, force” (93), I strive to create a classroom environment that is conducive to active learning and growth, an environment that allows students and teacher to explore their capacities and potentials.
I believe that it is important to acknowledge my position in the classroom as “teacher” and “credit giver” (Elbow, “Embracing,” 88), the one who mentors students and also reviews their work and assigns grades. Still, viewing myself as a guide in the learning process and also as a fellow learner in that process is central to my philosophy of teaching. Some of the most exciting moments in a classroom occur when a student brings a new perspective to the class discussion by voicing an insightful idea that has been inspired by that discussion. I do not see myself as separate from that process of interaction and learning: like my students, I too experience growth, surprise, and even delight at such moments.
These moments certainly create a fresh, stimulating, and sometimes spontaneous classroom environment. It is because of such moments of learning that I cannot subscribe the view of teachers as magister, students as docile listeners, and it is because of them that I foster productive and interactive discussions in the classroom. Positioning myself as facilitator of such discussions, I encourage students to find and create their voices within the space of the classroom. I also endeavour to heighten the desire to learn and express new ideas about literatures and the complexities inherent within them. Teaching that promotes learning, I believe, does so by “facilitating the acquisition of knowledge” rather than simply telling students what they should know (Weimer 10). With my guidance, students assert agency over their own learning and choose directions that interest them and contribute to their development and growth in the discipline.
I maintain that good teachers are engaged in doing what they teach. In order to be a good teacher of writing and literature, one must actively read and write about literature. Throughout my career, I will continue to work and publish within the field of English and specifically within my areas of interest—Writing Studies and Canadian literature—so that I may be aware of and contribute to current and changing trends in the discipline. I will also work to improve my teaching skills by attending conferences and workshops on the practice of teaching. I will always be involved in the academic community and carry what I learn within that community to my classroom.
To the courses I teach, then, I bring my expertise and research in a venture to introduce students to present debates and issues in the discipline. In agreement with Jane Tompkins, however, I also seek to forge a connection between the texts we discuss in class and what goes on in the lives of individual students (658). While studying two academic essays on Anorexia Nervosa in my English 219 class at Red Deer college, an introductory course on reading and writing, students brought to my attention an article on the disease that appeared in a local magazine that week: it was a personal account written by an acquaintance of one of my students. Juxtaposing that article with the academic essays commenced questions regarding dissemination and audience. It also initiated discussion about the material production of literature, how literature is not necessarily produced elsewhere but right at home. The issues raised within the context of the discussion invoked thought on how such literatures affect our lives.
Yet I do not claim to speak to the personal lives of all of my students, nor do I claim that the literature we study appeals to or interests all of them. One of my objectives as an English instructor, in fact, is to introduce students to perspectives and cultures not their own, so that they may come to understand the complexities of the culturally and historically specific world in which they live. In my English 366 class at Red Deer College, a course on the short story, I follow our discussion of Margaret Laurence’s “The Loons,” written from a settler perspective, with a discussion of Thomas King’s “Borders,” written from an Indigenous perspective. Looking at these two texts next to one another draws attention to how writers write from varying historical and cultural perspectives. Such a juxtaposition initiates discussion regarding how literatures might impede or enable cross-cultural understanding.
I address issues within texts so that we may pay heed to the nuances implicit within them. In English 371, a course on Multicultural Canadian Literatures, we study Joy Kogawa’s Obasan, a novel about Japanese-Canadian internment during World War Two. When I teach the novel, we look closely at “The Canadian Multiculturalism Act,” addressing multiculturalism and the Canadian nation in the context of that novel. Analysing the literature alongside cultural and historical documents foregrounds the ways in which literature, culture, and history are intricately intertwined, and, in complicated ways, inseparable.
In my writing classes, I am attentive to both independent and collaborative thinking. My classes include discussions, group work, and essay workshops. I guide my students through the writing of their drafts and the processes that lead to final copies. In agreement with Peter Elbow, I find that students give each other “remarkably useful and productive feedback on their writing” during workshops, but that most of them need “help and instruction in learning to do so” (“Sharing,” 5). With this in mind, I create quite structured workshop sessions, whereby students write reviews and responses to one another’s writing with reference to guidelines I provide for them. During this process, students find that they are not alone in grappling with the difficulties of writing; they gain a strong appreciation for each other’s work and the literature about which they write; they understand more deeply their own processes of writing; and, ultimately, they are able to improve their own writing while collaboratively coming to know the complexities of language and communication.
I aim to equip my students with particular skills they can use beyond the scope of my classroom: critical thinking; close, analytical reading; verbal articulation; and clear writing. At the same time, I find Tompkins’ notion that “teaching and learning are not a preparation for anything but are the thing itself” (656) most compelling. In an endeavour to learn and grow along with my students, I seek to apply the insight that approaching difficult concepts and texts requires creative problem solving. I find that I am continually trying new methods of teaching, collaborating, and approaching writing and literature. In this way, I strive to inspire my students to develop an appreciation for literatures and cultures, a pleasure and excitement in reading, writing, and learning. Essentially, I seek to create a classroom environment that provides the conditions for learning and growth.
Works Cited
Dewey, John. “Education as Growth.” Pragmatism: A Contemporary Reader.
Edited by Russell B. Goodman, Routledge, 1995, pp. 93-101.
Elbow, Peter. Embracing Contraries: Explorations in Learning and Teaching.
Oxford UP, 1986.
Elbow, Peter and Pat Belanoff. Sharing and Responding, 3rd Edition. McGraw-Hill, 2000.
Tompkins, Jane. “Pedagogy of the Distressed.” College English, vol. 52, no. 6, 1990, pp. 653-60.
Weimer, Maryellen. Learner-Centred Teaching: Five Key Changes to Practice. Wiley, 2013.
I believe that it is important to acknowledge my position in the classroom as “teacher” and “credit giver” (Elbow, “Embracing,” 88), the one who mentors students and also reviews their work and assigns grades. Still, viewing myself as a guide in the learning process and also as a fellow learner in that process is central to my philosophy of teaching. Some of the most exciting moments in a classroom occur when a student brings a new perspective to the class discussion by voicing an insightful idea that has been inspired by that discussion. I do not see myself as separate from that process of interaction and learning: like my students, I too experience growth, surprise, and even delight at such moments.
These moments certainly create a fresh, stimulating, and sometimes spontaneous classroom environment. It is because of such moments of learning that I cannot subscribe the view of teachers as magister, students as docile listeners, and it is because of them that I foster productive and interactive discussions in the classroom. Positioning myself as facilitator of such discussions, I encourage students to find and create their voices within the space of the classroom. I also endeavour to heighten the desire to learn and express new ideas about literatures and the complexities inherent within them. Teaching that promotes learning, I believe, does so by “facilitating the acquisition of knowledge” rather than simply telling students what they should know (Weimer 10). With my guidance, students assert agency over their own learning and choose directions that interest them and contribute to their development and growth in the discipline.
I maintain that good teachers are engaged in doing what they teach. In order to be a good teacher of writing and literature, one must actively read and write about literature. Throughout my career, I will continue to work and publish within the field of English and specifically within my areas of interest—Writing Studies and Canadian literature—so that I may be aware of and contribute to current and changing trends in the discipline. I will also work to improve my teaching skills by attending conferences and workshops on the practice of teaching. I will always be involved in the academic community and carry what I learn within that community to my classroom.
To the courses I teach, then, I bring my expertise and research in a venture to introduce students to present debates and issues in the discipline. In agreement with Jane Tompkins, however, I also seek to forge a connection between the texts we discuss in class and what goes on in the lives of individual students (658). While studying two academic essays on Anorexia Nervosa in my English 219 class at Red Deer college, an introductory course on reading and writing, students brought to my attention an article on the disease that appeared in a local magazine that week: it was a personal account written by an acquaintance of one of my students. Juxtaposing that article with the academic essays commenced questions regarding dissemination and audience. It also initiated discussion about the material production of literature, how literature is not necessarily produced elsewhere but right at home. The issues raised within the context of the discussion invoked thought on how such literatures affect our lives.
Yet I do not claim to speak to the personal lives of all of my students, nor do I claim that the literature we study appeals to or interests all of them. One of my objectives as an English instructor, in fact, is to introduce students to perspectives and cultures not their own, so that they may come to understand the complexities of the culturally and historically specific world in which they live. In my English 366 class at Red Deer College, a course on the short story, I follow our discussion of Margaret Laurence’s “The Loons,” written from a settler perspective, with a discussion of Thomas King’s “Borders,” written from an Indigenous perspective. Looking at these two texts next to one another draws attention to how writers write from varying historical and cultural perspectives. Such a juxtaposition initiates discussion regarding how literatures might impede or enable cross-cultural understanding.
I address issues within texts so that we may pay heed to the nuances implicit within them. In English 371, a course on Multicultural Canadian Literatures, we study Joy Kogawa’s Obasan, a novel about Japanese-Canadian internment during World War Two. When I teach the novel, we look closely at “The Canadian Multiculturalism Act,” addressing multiculturalism and the Canadian nation in the context of that novel. Analysing the literature alongside cultural and historical documents foregrounds the ways in which literature, culture, and history are intricately intertwined, and, in complicated ways, inseparable.
In my writing classes, I am attentive to both independent and collaborative thinking. My classes include discussions, group work, and essay workshops. I guide my students through the writing of their drafts and the processes that lead to final copies. In agreement with Peter Elbow, I find that students give each other “remarkably useful and productive feedback on their writing” during workshops, but that most of them need “help and instruction in learning to do so” (“Sharing,” 5). With this in mind, I create quite structured workshop sessions, whereby students write reviews and responses to one another’s writing with reference to guidelines I provide for them. During this process, students find that they are not alone in grappling with the difficulties of writing; they gain a strong appreciation for each other’s work and the literature about which they write; they understand more deeply their own processes of writing; and, ultimately, they are able to improve their own writing while collaboratively coming to know the complexities of language and communication.
I aim to equip my students with particular skills they can use beyond the scope of my classroom: critical thinking; close, analytical reading; verbal articulation; and clear writing. At the same time, I find Tompkins’ notion that “teaching and learning are not a preparation for anything but are the thing itself” (656) most compelling. In an endeavour to learn and grow along with my students, I seek to apply the insight that approaching difficult concepts and texts requires creative problem solving. I find that I am continually trying new methods of teaching, collaborating, and approaching writing and literature. In this way, I strive to inspire my students to develop an appreciation for literatures and cultures, a pleasure and excitement in reading, writing, and learning. Essentially, I seek to create a classroom environment that provides the conditions for learning and growth.
Works Cited
Dewey, John. “Education as Growth.” Pragmatism: A Contemporary Reader.
Edited by Russell B. Goodman, Routledge, 1995, pp. 93-101.
Elbow, Peter. Embracing Contraries: Explorations in Learning and Teaching.
Oxford UP, 1986.
Elbow, Peter and Pat Belanoff. Sharing and Responding, 3rd Edition. McGraw-Hill, 2000.
Tompkins, Jane. “Pedagogy of the Distressed.” College English, vol. 52, no. 6, 1990, pp. 653-60.
Weimer, Maryellen. Learner-Centred Teaching: Five Key Changes to Practice. Wiley, 2013.