Reflection: My Year of Student Teaching
All of us are informed deeply by the places that shaped us—and I am no exception. I was born in a house in the woods of Northwest Arkansas’ Ozark mountains, outside the town where my dad grew up and about 4 hours from the delta of Southern Arkansas where my mom was raised.
I spent most of my life in Little Rock, though, and graduated from Little Rock Central High School, where, in 1957, the “Little Rock Nine” desegregated the city’s public schools as the country looked on. It is a place of historic strength and resilience as well as historic violence.
After graduating high school, I went to New Haven, Connecticut to attend Yale University—a place that has been a symbol of hope and education and opportunity for many, and a symbol of privilege and elite estrangement for many more.
As I have gotten older, these different sides of my schools have slowly come into focus. I have struggled to figure out how I am supposed to feel about the fact that my high school AP classes were made up mostly of kids who looked like me, even though the city wasn’t. Or the fact that because of the institution on my college diploma, I could probably skip a number of interviews on Wall Street. But I’m slowly figuring it out. I’m proud to know so many people and organizations in the places that have shaped me. I’m proud to know people across this country who are fighting and will keep fighting for equity and justice and love. I'm proud to know so many people who love me enough to hold me accountable every day.
As you listen to my reflections on this year, I hope that having a bit more knowledge of my history will put them into context. And I'm grateful for all of it; after all, it has led me to this particular moment and place, and to you!
I spent most of my life in Little Rock, though, and graduated from Little Rock Central High School, where, in 1957, the “Little Rock Nine” desegregated the city’s public schools as the country looked on. It is a place of historic strength and resilience as well as historic violence.
After graduating high school, I went to New Haven, Connecticut to attend Yale University—a place that has been a symbol of hope and education and opportunity for many, and a symbol of privilege and elite estrangement for many more.
As I have gotten older, these different sides of my schools have slowly come into focus. I have struggled to figure out how I am supposed to feel about the fact that my high school AP classes were made up mostly of kids who looked like me, even though the city wasn’t. Or the fact that because of the institution on my college diploma, I could probably skip a number of interviews on Wall Street. But I’m slowly figuring it out. I’m proud to know so many people and organizations in the places that have shaped me. I’m proud to know people across this country who are fighting and will keep fighting for equity and justice and love. I'm proud to know so many people who love me enough to hold me accountable every day.
As you listen to my reflections on this year, I hope that having a bit more knowledge of my history will put them into context. And I'm grateful for all of it; after all, it has led me to this particular moment and place, and to you!
Find a transcript of this podcast here.
Lesson Spotlight:
The Salem Witch Trials
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This video is from my first semester at HTHNC. I planned a lesson around the Salem Witch Trials and specifically the idea of “mob mentality.” This lesson was also an opportunity to engage students in a game. Students experienced a low-stakes version of "mob mentality" while playing a modified version of the game “Mafia.” While the game was fun, it also provided a foundational experience upon which all students could draw. It is often helpful to draw on students' prior knowledge, but providing positive and generative experiences for all of our students can make our classrooms more equitable. The game of “Mafia”—though it was silly at times—grounded our community in a common experience as we began thinking more critically about our own actions and this historical moment.
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After this clip, in which students begin to unpack their experiences with the game and co-create a working definition of "mob mentality," I presented students with a podcast. As we listened, I implemented a "gradual release," modeling note-taking strategies and working as a whole class before releasing students to take their own notes. Throughout these various activities, the lesson focused especially on the following learning goals:
While I’m proud of this lesson’s integration of joy (in the form of a game) and inclusion of multiple modalities (in the form of a podcast), I’m also acutely aware of some skewed student response as I watch it now. The majority of students who engage in the conversation appear to be white--and male. Though many of the structures in this lesson promote equitable access, these students’ voices are still being heard disproportionately.
All of this leaves me with a renewed sense of urgency not only for my commitment to equity in lesson plans but also for my commitment to equity in the tiny discretionary moments of class. In these moments, I can offer think time, call for a think-pair-share, wait for a hand from each table, include written responses, and so much more as I continue working to create a classroom in which all voices are heard, valued, and affirmed.
Find a more detailed lesson plan for the "Mafia" Game/Debrief here and the Podcast here. As these lessons were designed early on in my student teaching experience, the plans are restricted to a few focus areas.
- Students will know some factors that contributed to the “mob mentality” in Salem, MA during the Salem Witch Trials.
- Students will know what “mob mentality” is.
- Students will understand how “mob mentality” played a part in the spread of fear and accusations during the Salem Witch Trials.
- Students will understand that “mob mentality” can—and does—exist in many historical and contemporary moments.
While I’m proud of this lesson’s integration of joy (in the form of a game) and inclusion of multiple modalities (in the form of a podcast), I’m also acutely aware of some skewed student response as I watch it now. The majority of students who engage in the conversation appear to be white--and male. Though many of the structures in this lesson promote equitable access, these students’ voices are still being heard disproportionately.
All of this leaves me with a renewed sense of urgency not only for my commitment to equity in lesson plans but also for my commitment to equity in the tiny discretionary moments of class. In these moments, I can offer think time, call for a think-pair-share, wait for a hand from each table, include written responses, and so much more as I continue working to create a classroom in which all voices are heard, valued, and affirmed.
Find a more detailed lesson plan for the "Mafia" Game/Debrief here and the Podcast here. As these lessons were designed early on in my student teaching experience, the plans are restricted to a few focus areas.