Preparing Teachers

My philosophy in teaching is that if a child fails to learn, a teacher has failed to teach. I don’t believe in excuses. I don’t listen to them. Everything has to do with the teacher. This is true if I am teaching a first grader or an undergraduate. I have put a lot of thought into my cognate lately and realize that if I am going to make a career of being a teacher educator, teacher education and first year teachers need to be the focus of my research. If I wanted to research how children read or how they feel, then I needed to continue as a classroom teacher. Here’s how I see it. If teacher educators’ research agendas helped create highly effective teacher education programs that trained highly effective teachers, then those highly effective teachers could go into classrooms and research what works with the children and their learning. This could take awhile, especially with the gloomy statistics being released regarding teacher education programs in our country. But I have been thinking about it a lot lately. I want to answer the age old question, “Why do new teachers say they learned nothing about teaching until their student teaching?” Something is missing.

If a child fails to learn, a teacher has failed to teach.

What are teacher preparation programs failing to teach pre-service teachers?

This is such a touchy subject because teacher preparation programs are full of professors, once classroom teachers, who pride themselves in the work they do. Being asked to change implies wrong doing, which is then taken personally, which leads to defensiveness. It is human nature.

But the current preparation programs are the perfect place to be unaccountable. Undergraduate students are naïve. They trust that what they are paying thousands of dollars a semester to hear and be trained in will work and prepare them to be highly effective classroom teachers. But what if what they hear isn’t training them to work with the diverse population of students they are about to have sitting in front of them? They don’t know this at the time. Only when those teacher candidates get their first classroom do they realize something may have been missing in their training. Even then, they may not say anything because “that’s the way it has always been.” School districts are left with the task of providing even more initial training of the first year teachers in the areas in which they struggle. They have to provide the professional development because they are accountable.

If a first year teacher is lucky enough to join a district that offers such professional development, they have a chance of outlasting the average new teacher. It seems most districts are spending the majority of their time working with new classroom teachers on classroom management. But universities don’t always require a course in classroom management.

If a child fails to learn, a teacher has failed to teach.

Passion, excitement, and a love for children will only take a novice teacher so far if unprepared. I, personally, think it is a very exciting time to be entering the field. But it is a different time. Our pre-service teachers need to be trained differently.

A teacher affects more than a single group of children. A quote clearly stating just how critical the job of a teacher is, and how even more critical my job is in preparing them for it:

“Your behavior as a teacher not only affects your students individually; it affects the quality of collective intellect and morality, and therefore the strength of our civilization.

Parents give their children to teachers--hoping, expecting, and paying teachers to educate their children. As a teacher you have a contract with children and families, your school and district, and society itself to fulfill your moral obligation to teach well. You and the citizens of [Colorado] are paying me to teach you how to teach other people’s children. Therefore, I have a contract with you and your family, the school and district that employ you, and society to fulfill my moral obligation to teach you well.”
--M. Kozloff, University of North Carolina, 2009

Tina the Transcriber

I had a “first” this week as a researcher. I had the pleasure of transcribing my first interview Wednesday night. Before relaying the experience, let me tell you what I thought about the idea prior to actually doing it.

I didn’t think much.

How hard could it be? I am a fast typer. I’m accurate. I have a good memory. I figured it would be a good reminder for me not to talk too much during the interview because I would only have to transcribe it later. (And as an interviewer I shouldn’t dominate the conversation.) I pictured myself being in the courtroom with my little computer just typing away all perky and cheerful.

So how did it go? To put it bluntly—I wanted to put a gun to my head within the first five minutes. It took me 30 minutes to transcribe the first three and half minutes of the interview! Are you [insert inappropriate word] kidding me?! I have almost two hours of interviews to transcribe! (Which is NOTHING compared to most qualitative studies that require voice recording and transcribing.) Remember in the last blog when I discussed the desire to do meaningful work? The way I see it, transcribing these interviews is twelve hours of my life I am never getting back.

I slowed the voices down to the point where we all sounded like we were drunk, which only made me want to be in that state of mind. Maybe it would have made the experience less painful and less scarring! :) All the time I had random thoughts coming to mind, “What if I had to hunt and peck for the keys?” “What if I don't find any themes—what a waste of time.” “How the h#&* did they do this without digital recorders?” “Thank God I only have five twenty-minute interviews.” “I’m never doing qualitative research!” “I feel sorry for the poor person who is “lucky” enough to have to transcribe my 100 mile an hour rate of speaking someday.” Every once and awhile I had to listen to the interviews in normal speed just to make sure I didn’t sound like the idiot I am hearing at 50% speed. Do you know how annoying my laugh is in slow speed? (I know some of you are thinking it is annoying at normal speed, so what would be the difference! :))

I even had moments of deliriousness when I thought my next project should be to drink to the point of slurring my speech, voice record a conversation, then transcribe it at a slow speed. How would drunk sounding drunk sound? (Are you following me?) Fascinating research, no? I’m always told my research should connect to my interests! See what I mean? The thought of mixing what brings me great pleasure with the current bane of my existence? Delirious!

I transcribed my first interview Wednesday night. For the next two days, I literally had to psych myself into doing the next two interviews. I completed them last night—three hours of my life wasted. I am getting quicker. I was that locomotive charging up the mountainside at full speed, only one thing on my mind—getter done. And now I am questioning whether I have the mental or physical capacity to finish the last two interviews today. My fingers hurt. My back aches. And I hate looking down at the clock upon completion and realizing I just wasted another two hours of my life. But then I think about it like a band-aid—just rip it off—there is less pain.

I know people pay others to do it, but why would I want to pass such torture onto another human being? Maybe we could make it into punishment of some kind. Dang—I knew I should have had kids at a younger age. :)

But being the person I am, I always look for the value or lesson in the experience. Believe it or not, I found one. For all of those who know and love me: if ever you want me to be quiet, tell me the conversation is being taped and that I am going to have to transcribe it.

I can’t think of anything that will shut me up more quickly.

Work Worth Doing

I miss being a classroom teacher. Let me rephrase that—I miss seeing how the work I do directly impacts those around me in positive, meaningful ways. I absolutely love teaching the undergraduate students because of this. I can see and feel the positive difference I am having in their lives. But that is only three hours per week. What I struggle with is the amount of time I spend on “research.” Sitting in front of a computer looking for research, typing papers, and completing assignments does not fit my definition of being a productive, contributing member of society. It is not simply because I don’t like it. Instead, I sit there and think, “Do you know how many children I could be helping learn how to read in the six hours I was studying? Do you know how many teachers I could be helping craft their skills, but instead I am staring at a screen full of data trying to make sense of it?”

A few casual statements made by professors the past few weeks have also made me think about where I want this degree to take me upon graduation.

For example, after discussing an article where the researcher did his 20 plus years of research at a particular treatment facility, the professor adds, “It’s really neat if you can tie your research directly to an organization of some type. As researchers we would like to think or hope that the work we do and the papers we publish are making a difference, but you never know. When you work with an organization, you at least know you are making a difference in their lives.” We would like to “hope”? Right now, I am not happy with the “hope.” I need results—plain and simple. If it is not having a direct impact, I am not interested. There is too much real work to be done to settle for a “hope.”

Another professor reflected on how people in higher education tend to go about their research, “Instead of going into a school and asking the teachers what problems they have that they would like for us to research and help them with, we go in and present a problem we are interested in researching and hope that what we do turns into something.” This is so backwards in my mind! And I do think this is the case, maybe not for all, but for most. How many times do you hear people say, “When was the last time a professor stepped foot into a classroom/the real world?” I always tell my students that asking what is in the best interest of the teacher is an irrelevant question. What is in the best interest of the teacher should be what is in the best interest of the students. In the same respect, what needs to be interesting to those that research education needs to be the problems teachers are having in the classroom. Maybe this is why it is so hard for me to express my interests in research topics—I believe my interests as a researcher need to come from the problems people around me need help fixing. It has nothing to do, in essence, with my personal goals or interests. My goal is to directly help those around me. My interests are in using my knowledge, experiences, and work ethic to help teachers be better teachers so they can help students be better learners.

In 1995, Hart and Risley reflected on the research they had done and gave huge accolades to their mentor who taught them to “look directly at the world in order to learn how it really works and to concern ourselves with trying to solve the real problems of real people.”

This is the researcher I want to be. I am going to publish articles I feel are worth publishing. I am going to present on topics I feel are worth presenting. I am going to get my cognate in one worth getting. I will affiliate myself with organizations worthy of my affiliation. Not because a vitae needs to be filled with gold stars. Not because it will make me more marketable. Not because it will get me closer to a tenured position. Will this be frowned upon by some? To organizations with whom I am not a good fit, yes. But to those that “get” me, “get” my thinking, and “get” my drive and motivation—they would expect nothing less.

There is not a doubt in my mind that I am going to be a GREAT fit for an organization or university someday.

The "I Hate Writing" Club

I am not a fan of writing right now. I think “liking” to do something comes from confidence in being able to do that something well. Practice and application increase competence, competence increases confidence, confidence determines whether one likes something or not. Generally speaking, we (I) tend to not like doing things I don’t see myself being good at. This is how I feel about writing at the doctoral level (and writing in general). I have not had enough practice, therefore feel incompetent. Because I feel I do not have the skills and ability to write at this level, I do not have confidence in producing quality writing; therefore I do not like it. Because I don’t like it, I avoid practicing (because you can’t tell me what to do :)), therefore I never get better. (How’s that for making a full circle?!) Also, because I have perfectionistic tendencies, I don’t like letting people watch me struggle along the way. Why can’t I just be good at everything?

I remember always telling my students that if they knew everything they wouldn’t be in my class. I am here to help them learn and master the things with which they struggle. I am great at giving advice and coaching others, but suck at taking my own. Yet now that I think about it, I was their safe place to fall—they trusted me completely. I don’t have that. Crap.

I am fantastic at talking—communicating orally. Why can’t I just give all my assignments and the dissertation as a PowerPoint? I can say it so much better than I can write it. I was a fantastic teacher after all—I can make ANY topic sound fascinating!

One of my main struggles in writing is trying to convey the feeling or tone with which I hear myself speaking to the readers. To me, scholarly writing is stuffy and lacks personality. How the heck do I make 20 pages, let alone a dissertation, sound interesting? I keep having to tell myself, “Good writing is meaningful writing.”

I even struggle with this blog! This is where I am suppose to express my thoughts and feelings as a doctoral student. Anyone who really knows me knows that my “feelings” are expressed through humor. I read the other blogs that are written so profoundly and think, “Should I be trying this?” Let’s remember, I struggle with writing scholarly and I struggle with talking about my feelings to complete strangers. Now you want me to put the two of them together?! (I laugh just thinking about it!) Sorry, Dudes. Anything profound that comes from this blog will be in the form of me making a joke about something. Be right back… I just Googled “profound thoughts.” Here are a few, so that I have met my quota for this blog:

• The journey of a thousand miles begins with a broken fan belt and leaky tire.
• It's always darkest before dawn. So if you're going to steal your neighbor's newspaper, that's the time to do it.
• Always remember that you're unique. Just like everyone else.
• Never test the depth of the water with both feet.
• If you think nobody cares if you're alive, try missing a couple of car payments.
• Before you criticize someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. That way, when you criticize them, you're a mile away - and you have their shoes.
• If at first you don't succeed, skydiving is not for you.
• Give a man a fish and he will eat for a day. Teach him how to fish, and he will sit in a boat and drink beer all day.
• If you lend someone $20 and never see that person again, it was probably worth it.
• If you tell the truth, you don't have to remember anything.
• Some days you're the bug; some days you're the windshield.


The world is full of “necessary evils.” Scholarly writing is one I am going to have to face if I am to survive this program. Guess I’ll just start taking my own advice and, “Fake it ‘til I make it.”

I’ll try to be a bit more scholarly in my next post. Try.