My Teaching Philosophy

When I applied for Student Teaching at the U of U last year, this was what I wrote to answer "What is your teaching philosophy"

The whole art of teaching is only the art of awakening the natural curiosity of young minds for the purpose of satisfying it afterwards.
- Anatole France

When I was 12 years old, I approached my mother in the way only a child can, and asked if it would be possible for me to take piano lessons. This is shocking, considering how many parents plead and beg and torture their children to force them to practice and take such lessons, but even more shocking was my mother’s response. She said no. She said she knew I’d likely quit soon after and it would be a waste of time and money. Thus began my passion and determination to play the piano nonetheless. The experience not only taught me a lot about determination, but also about one of the driving forces in my life – education. I have no greater frustration than not understanding a concept, an idea, or the process whereby something occurs. Nothing makes me angrier than when I am unable to try something, learn about something, or find out more concerning a given item or idea. The reason, I believe, is a passion for education. It is a passion for knowing the “who, what, when, where, why, and how” of any situation, and then being able to analyze and act upon that knowledge. It is this passion, and not the passion for teaching young minds, the love of kids, the desire to teach history, a respect for social science, or even the longing for summer vacations that fuels my aspiration to be a teacher (although I do possess all of those things).

In regards to my actual teaching philosophy, I take a cue from Thomas Huxley, the English biologist, who said, “Perhaps the most valuable result of all education is the ability to make yourself do the thing you have to do, when it ought to be done, whether you like it or not; it is the first lesson that ought to be learned; and however early a man's training begins, it is probably the last lesson that he learns thoroughly.”

I believe an education is truly “gained” in the fire of experience. Thus, it may be irrelevant how many facts about the Civil War a student can repeat, if that individual doesn’t know the causes and effects of slavery, or the reasons it must be abolished. Knowing the difference between the Axis and Allies in World War II is immaterial to a student who does not see how and why Hitler gained power. And the settling of the country now known as the United States is unimportant if a person does not understand basic human rights, equality, and what “freedom from tyranny” truly means. Some labels I’ve found for my style over the course of my own education are “transcendentalist,” or, “existentialist,” followed by “post-modernist.” What such terms mean, in my definition, is that I believe students have a right and privilege to learn. They need to hear the course of history taught them with the passion that exists for the human race. However, more vitally, they need, and deserve to be allowed, to process the course of history, question the decisions their race has made, and then make choices and actions accordingly. I think the true role of education is, ironically, to bring up individuals who will question everything they are told, vocalize and share their opinions rationally, defend their positions, and act in such a way to bring about change. It may be that I’ve seen Dead Poets Society too many times, but I believe words and ideas can change the world, but it must be done through the educational system.

Relating to the role that educators, administrators, and students play, I am reminded of the Roman Senate. There are rules and regulations for parliamentary procedure, and there are essentials needed for a school to function, which reach beyond electricity, food, chairs, or a chalk board (though nowadays it is more likely to be an overhead and laptop). There should be a system of discipline for those that interfere with a learning environment. There needs to be a means whereby students with special needs can receive additional attention. Ultimately, however, I consider these administrative functions, and the role of “teacher” as merely a Socratic mediator who conducts conversations, repeats observations, and struggles not to taint the educational environment with their own opinions. This is, naturally, a “goal” and not a concrete reality. Teachers and administration are also prey to standardized tests, state-run curriculum, and all of the chaos associated with daily school schedules. There are specific points to be covered, assessments to be given, grades to be assigned, parents to conference with, and daily lessons to plan, outline, and adapt for individual students. On top of that, there are as many different learning methods as there are students. Some need visual stimulation. Other would prefer didactic multiple-choice answers. Many would choose outdoor “hands on” activities, and there are those who desire quiet and personal reflection. All of these styles must be addressed and accounted for. In addition teachers must follow all ethical guidelines, maintain certain standards, and plan ahead for every conceivable “contingent” plan.

Ultimately, what has evolved for me during my college career is not the desire to teach. That desire is as strong as ever, and I even see a concrete realization of it drawing nearer. Instead, the way I view and acknowledge this “dream” has been adjusted. Like Robert Hutchins observed when he said, “Education is a kind of continuing dialogue, and a dialogue assumes, in the nature of the case, different points of view,” I now recognize and more greatly appreciate those different points of view. My way of teaching is not the only way or necessarily the best way (though it may be the best way for me). My way of learning is certainly not the best or only way for students to learn. In addition, the impressions of how a school must be run are different dependent upon location, time, specific needs, and administration. Teaching and education are as diverse as the student population within them. Just as diversity in a classroom should be valued, so it should be in the teaching profession.

So why become a teacher? Yes, I love kids, which is mandatory for prospective teachers. True, I have a passion for history and the “human drama” that it has written. And yes, I do like having my summers off. However, ultimately it is the opportunity, privilege, and duty that education has for awakening a mind, creating and satisfying curiosity, and providing tools to change the world that draws me to the classrooms I spent nearly twelve years learning within. I love to understand. I enjoy knowing why things happen. I am passionate for the gaining of knowledge. I want to share that love, enjoyment, and passion with students. Who knows, we may even change the world. I will be a teacher. And yes, I do play the piano.