Observations of Literacy (or non-Literacy) In Practice

One of my favorite aspects of learning a new concept is that all of a sudden, that concept seems to pop up everywhere you look. After talking about the effective use of discussion in education, I had the opportunity to experience many "what not to do" moments in the secondary education classroom (and in the college classroom, for that matter). However, something I've discovered over time is that sometimes, the experiences that show you what NOT to do are just as valuable (although more frustrating) than what TO do--probably because they make you swear to yourself, "I will never, ever do that."

Case in point: my latest clinical observation at one of the local high schools (all identifying characteristics will be disguised so as to protect the guilty). It is no secret that I think our clinical observations show us far more what we shouldn't do rather than what we should; maybe I've just had extraordinarily bad luck, but I have never seen any teacher put even one-tenth of the methods into practice that we're "supposed to." But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me start from the beginning.

It was a crunchy autumn day; the breeze was hustling the leaves, the birds were preparing to migrate south, and the local high schoolers were oblivious to the traffic lights as they walked right in front of my car on a green light. My first day of clinicals, fall 2011. I walked into the front lobby of the school, feeling short and lost. After being directed to my destination, I walked into the classroom and promptly introduced myself to *Eugene (not his real name), who started telling me which classes he taught and apologizing for the students in his fourth hour. "I really hate that class," he said with a laugh. "I know I shouldn't say that, but they're wild." I nodded in sympathy.

"I also should tell you," he continued, "My classroom is not like other teacher's classrooms. I like to call it 'organized chaos.' I really favor discussion, so you'll hear the students talking a lot."

I was eager to see a teacher put into practice good discussion techniques, since there are so few out there who even seem to favor the idea of the students participating at all. I tucked myself into the corner inconspicuously, then waited for class to begin.

Chaos doesn't begin to describe the next 50 minutes of my life. There were people walking in and out of the class the whole period (random people from the halls, students from other classrooms, people who had graduated), conversations about dating and betrayal and who knows what else that lasted the whole period between three-fourths of the classroom, two kids that walked in stoned halfway through the class...basically, I had walked into my worst nightmare. (I don't do chaos very well).

And the discussion? Well, the "discussion" went basically like this:
Eugene: "So do we remember what experiment that Pavlov guy did with his dogs?"
Class: some general mumbling, half of which was entirely inappropriate
Eugene: "Good!"

That was the discussion format. I am not joking.

Sometimes I wonder where people go wrong in their thinking; I wonder how the two of us (the teacher and I) can have such different interpretations of the word "discussion." If I was to have a friend that I wanted to discuss something with, I would say something like, "Hey, I'd like to discuss a couple things with you. What are your thoughts on the latest season of America's Next Top Model?"

Apparently Eugene's version of discussion would be something like this: "Hey, what is the name of that really annoying girl on Top Model?"
"Alexandria." "Lisa." "Sheena."
"Good!"

I don't get it. Somewhere in education, there has been a great disconnect from what the word "discussion" actually means. Many teachers, in their desire to cover (albeit thinly and sparingly) the entirety of the textbook's contents, seem to forget that education does not require solely the memorization of facts and figures, but rather the training of a mind to think critically, analyze, and defend its opinions.

I do not fault Eugene for his misconception of the word "discussion;" rather, I wish that the school districts were getting the same kind of training that I get in teacher education about how to actually have a classroom discussion. As I learned in my own literacy class, a true "discussion" is a process that is not naturally understood and practiced in the classroom; it is a process that must be modeled and explicitly taught. How are teachers to know how to foster discussion, when they themselves have never had the opportunity to see it effectively modeled? How are students to know how to actively and appropriately participate in a discussion, when no one has taken the time to show them what a discussion is and is not?

The problem is more complex than I'm making it, but I think that part of the solution is relatively simple: teach the students how to have a  discussion, and teach the teachers how to facilitate one. And then allow all parties to practice, practice, practice. Maybe then, instead of pre-service teachers like me going into classrooms where nothing is modeled but the ineffective way of doing things, there might actually be something useful (and positive!) to be gained from the clinical experience.