Sunday, May 22, 2005

Before you go...

Hey folks!

This will be one of the last blogs I post for this "class." I haven't decided for sure if I will continue to post to this blog next year for a new audience of honors students, but I suspect it will continue to exist in one form or another (maybe with a different name) for as long as I teach. Why? Because I have discovered that this is a good way to keep track of many of those little "teacher thoughts" that I have had a thousand times a year for the last 16 years but never seem to have handy when I need them. For example, you know how there is that one vociferous kid in most classes who always seems to pipe up loudly in response to anything the teacher says? You all know at least one of them, and you've all probably been annoyed by him a time or two because sometimes you really do want to hear what the teacher is saying, and his continual interruptions make that difficult. Believe me, it's annoying for teachers too. But I think I have figured out something that might help me deal with that kid, and if I write it down here, I can refer back to it when I need to. Two things I need to make clear to Mr. Mouthhead are these:
  • Do not answer rhetorical questions. Rhetorical questions, by definition, do not require a response. They are mainly asked for effect, or sometimes to point out the obvious. No response is expected or desired! And while you may reflect upon them later or even believe that you really do have an answer, just remain quiet and allow me to continue.
  • When I say Shh or ask you to be quiet, don't respond. I do not need to know the reason you were talking or whose fault it was. I frankly don't care why you were making noise; all I know is that you were disturbing me and preventing me from getting on with the business of this class. So, when I give any indication that I want you to quit talking, just quit talking, sit quietly, and wait for further instructions.

These two pieces of information, in this context, seem out of place, but now that I have written them down, I can review them when I encounter my new Mr. Mouthheads next fall. And I can add to them, change them, print them, forward them, share them with other teachers, access them from anywhere there is Internet access; and no matter how big they get, they don't take up any actual space. Blogs work for me. They suit my personality. I realize that is not the case for most of you, but I suspect your experience with blogs and discussion boards will come in handy later on (in college if not high school) because the world is moving towards distance education. Maybe the thing I like best about blogs is that they allow you to witness your own intellectual growth. You can easily go back and see what you were doing nine months ago and compare it to what you are doing now...and maybe use that information to decide where you will go next.

One thing I wanted to say before you go on with your lives is Thanks! Thanks for helping me out with this nobel experiment. You are the first group of students that I have ever required to write blogs, and I think most of you took to the task fantastically well...much better than most adults would. If you doubt this, go back through your own blog archives; read what you were writing back in September and compare it to what you are writing now. Most of you have learned how to focus a piece of writing around a single idea. Most of you have discovered how many things there are to think about and know, and you can discuss those things intelligently. Many of you have discovered the interactivity of blogs. Some of you even had fun with them. And even if you decide to delete your blog or just let it sit unused for the rest of time and eternity, you ought to read back over it once because you will often find that you said profound things that you were not aware of at the time. You may decide to save some of those kernels of wisdom for future days when you may need them.

But here is the one lesson I hope this experience leaves you with: Writing and Thinking are inseparable. Good writing is clear thinking. Writing helps you improve your thinking and vice-versa. Those who write well are those who think well. They are the people who will move and shape the world. And as with any other skill, practice makes perfect. So while you have been writing to fill these blogs (sometimes from the well of your passions and sometimes just to meet the deadline), you have been practicing. You've been learning how to think more clearly. And I am pleased with the progress I see in most of you.

As a teacher, I feel that writing is part of my job. I can't teach you to write better if I am not continually writing myself. Again, blogs serve me well in this respect. Here is a link to something I wrote (from a teacher's perspective) that sums up my feelings about why English matters. Although it was written long before anyone had ever heard the word blog, I think blogs can help us meet many of the goals for language arts classes.

Find me on yearbook day so you can sign my yearbook with a real pen, but remember our "virtual" classroom and the things we talked about and practiced here.

It has been my honor and pleasure to know all of you!

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