Drive Toward Your Goal--But Don't Forget to Value the Sidewalk
By: Onnalee Gibson
Just Where Does the Sidewalk End?
When my high school students found out I would be graduating this May, they were tickled at the thought of their teacher wearing a cap and gown just as they would be very soon. “Teachers graduate?” asked a student, confused by the thought that someone might continue their formal education even after being established within their career. But it was one student’s question in particular that gave me pause: “Mrs. Gibson, how does it feel to finally be successful? To be finished with everything you are expected to do?” Of course, I considered my Master’s degree an important achievement in both my professional and personal life, but it had never occurred to me that it meant I was “finally successful”or that I had reached a finished line of any sort. I suppose it is because I have aspired for a PhD for so long that every accomplishment I have reached along the way has been viewed as simply that: a milestone toward an ultimate goal.
But has my relentless drive for a PhD caused me to inadvertently overlook the true value of the journey in place of the goal? Is it possible that I have committed the age-old cliché’ of deeming the grass to be greener on the other side? Ironically, this reminds me of Shel Silverstein’s poem, Where the Sidewalk Ends (1974), where he says:
“There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.”
That place, with soft, white grass, a crimson sun, and peppermint wind, is where the street begins—or the “paradise” of one’s lifelong goal. At least, that is what I had always assumed. Yet, my journey down the proverbial sidewalk was been the most worthwhile experience of my life and each of the courses I’ve taken along the way have helped to shape me into the teacher and student I am today. Although it is a requirement for anyone holding a provisional teaching certificate to attain further academic credits, it was something I had planned to do regardless. As a lover of learning, I actually missed taking classes and could not wait to begin my graduate courses. I officially began my Master’s degree a year ago knowing that Michigan State’s curriculum would provide the ultimate academic setting for me—even if only “virtually.” It is this passion for teaching that fuels dreams of getting a PhD, to someday become a university professor, and to make a difference in the academic community. My desire for a PhD has led me on this “sidewalk” through a Master’s, but in the end it was my student’s initial question that really got me thinking about the past year and the changes made along the way.
Measuring Success: (“Mrs. Gibson, how does it feel to finally be successful?”)
Well, I don’t know—am I? How does one really measure the success of a career or of academia? Many argue that it is the financial standard or degree earned that establishes such criteria; I respectfully, and adamantly, disagree…
Any teacher can explain why money is never a measurement of a successful career. Success for educators comes in much more intrinsic packages (i.e. the eyes of the child who finally understands, the pride of a student who finishes a difficult task, or even that rare and unexpected thank you). Similarly, I believe that what I have learned as a graduate student is a measurement of my success within the past year—certainly not the degree itself, nor the cap and gown that publically signifies such accomplishments. Without question, I believe that not only have my courses helped make me a better, self-reflecting educator, they were the “sidewalk” that has prepared me for the “street” ahead.
Well, I don’t know—am I? How does one really measure the success of a career or of academia? Many argue that it is the financial standard or degree earned that establishes such criteria; I respectfully, and adamantly, disagree…
Any teacher can explain why money is never a measurement of a successful career. Success for educators comes in much more intrinsic packages (i.e. the eyes of the child who finally understands, the pride of a student who finishes a difficult task, or even that rare and unexpected thank you). Similarly, I believe that what I have learned as a graduate student is a measurement of my success within the past year—certainly not the degree itself, nor the cap and gown that publically signifies such accomplishments. Without question, I believe that not only have my courses helped make me a better, self-reflecting educator, they were the “sidewalk” that has prepared me for the “street” ahead.
The Path:
The class that really set the tone for my experiences as a graduate student and professional educator was TE 802. This is due mainly to the fact that it was taught by Avner Segall, by far the most influential professor I have encountered. Working with Segall afforded me the distinct opportunity to learn from his self-inquiry manner, utilization of best practices, and meaningful critique of the mediums of social science education. In fact, Segall got me to think more deeply and directly about teaching the social studies than ever. He also taught the importance of applying creativity and ingenuity to teaching, while avoiding prepackaged educational curriculum. It is within this highly contemplative course that some of my most reflective journal writing took place. It was Avner Segall, in TE 802, that taught me to constantly evaluate my own pedagogy, making sure I remained liberate in practice.
Applying one’s pedagogy and learning to consistently reevaluate the results was a central theme of Tom Bird’s TE 803 course. I have never had such a rigorous class involving real-world analytical practices, and it is an experience I came to appreciate. Bird’s assignments were the most in-depth case studies I had ever done. Assignments in TE 803 required me to not only use my education to create and alter lessons, but to identify academic weaknesses/strengths within my students, myself, and my curriculum in order to better meet the needs of each individual student. The results? Two case studies, totaling 68 pages, of extremely comprehensive pedagogical study, practice, and reevaluated academic application.
Learning to provide students with a quality education is not merely done by the establishment of great pedagogy; it is also found within the application of best practices that take into account the mediums in which curriculum is delivered and their inherent limitations. CEP 815, taught by Nick Sheltrown, encouraged me to get students using an array of web-based learning tools while also thinking critically about the use of technology as the means to an end. The use of technology, according to Sheltrown, does not innately mean it is effective; it still heavily reliant on the practices of the educator who chooses when, where, and how it will be utilized. Within this course, students were given the opportunity to create a real-world policy brief, written to school administrators, about a "technology as a tool" vision and how it might be achieved. It was the use of John Hattie’s six educational factors that really made it an effective learning tool that was immediately applicable to teachers--especially given the current push for more technology in the classroom.
Ultimately, what good are well-founded pedagogy, purposeful curriculum, and fancy technology if students are too bored to stay awake? How do I make the study of the ancient world applicable to Tweeting teenagers who would rather Skype their friends than learn about feudalism? Punya Mishra’s CEP 818 answered those questions by awakening the creativity in each educator, while pushing the comfort boundaries just enough to get teachers to think outside of the traditional sphere. Using the ideas found in Robert and Michele Root-Bernstein’s book “Sparks of Creativity,” Mishra divided the course into the seven traits of creative people and encouraged us to actually apply such ideas to our current teaching assignments. Not only was it exciting to stretch the boundaries of my own curriculum, it was refreshing to watch my existing lessons take on a life of their own. Teaching social studies is not about dispersing knowledge to students; it is about making the topics apply to them in the modern era. Who cares about feudalism? Well, you might if you play chess…
When I first began Weiland’s ED 800, I did not know what to think of it. It was the first self-paced course which required absolutely no interaction between enrolled students I had ever taken. Nonetheless, I truly consider it one of the best classes I took during my Master’s. It was not what I learned from others as much as what I learned about myself as an educator that strikes me about this experience. ED 800 brought the significance of self-inquiry to the forefront of my pedagogical practice. Requiring the use of various books by E.D. Hirsch, Vivian Paley, and other influential academic thinkers, Weiland introduced me to highly applicable concepts that I immediately began putting into practice. These include personal academic writings, student-inquiry guided lessons, and analytically considering what is worth teaching.
The class that really set the tone for my experiences as a graduate student and professional educator was TE 802. This is due mainly to the fact that it was taught by Avner Segall, by far the most influential professor I have encountered. Working with Segall afforded me the distinct opportunity to learn from his self-inquiry manner, utilization of best practices, and meaningful critique of the mediums of social science education. In fact, Segall got me to think more deeply and directly about teaching the social studies than ever. He also taught the importance of applying creativity and ingenuity to teaching, while avoiding prepackaged educational curriculum. It is within this highly contemplative course that some of my most reflective journal writing took place. It was Avner Segall, in TE 802, that taught me to constantly evaluate my own pedagogy, making sure I remained liberate in practice.
Applying one’s pedagogy and learning to consistently reevaluate the results was a central theme of Tom Bird’s TE 803 course. I have never had such a rigorous class involving real-world analytical practices, and it is an experience I came to appreciate. Bird’s assignments were the most in-depth case studies I had ever done. Assignments in TE 803 required me to not only use my education to create and alter lessons, but to identify academic weaknesses/strengths within my students, myself, and my curriculum in order to better meet the needs of each individual student. The results? Two case studies, totaling 68 pages, of extremely comprehensive pedagogical study, practice, and reevaluated academic application.
Learning to provide students with a quality education is not merely done by the establishment of great pedagogy; it is also found within the application of best practices that take into account the mediums in which curriculum is delivered and their inherent limitations. CEP 815, taught by Nick Sheltrown, encouraged me to get students using an array of web-based learning tools while also thinking critically about the use of technology as the means to an end. The use of technology, according to Sheltrown, does not innately mean it is effective; it still heavily reliant on the practices of the educator who chooses when, where, and how it will be utilized. Within this course, students were given the opportunity to create a real-world policy brief, written to school administrators, about a "technology as a tool" vision and how it might be achieved. It was the use of John Hattie’s six educational factors that really made it an effective learning tool that was immediately applicable to teachers--especially given the current push for more technology in the classroom.
Ultimately, what good are well-founded pedagogy, purposeful curriculum, and fancy technology if students are too bored to stay awake? How do I make the study of the ancient world applicable to Tweeting teenagers who would rather Skype their friends than learn about feudalism? Punya Mishra’s CEP 818 answered those questions by awakening the creativity in each educator, while pushing the comfort boundaries just enough to get teachers to think outside of the traditional sphere. Using the ideas found in Robert and Michele Root-Bernstein’s book “Sparks of Creativity,” Mishra divided the course into the seven traits of creative people and encouraged us to actually apply such ideas to our current teaching assignments. Not only was it exciting to stretch the boundaries of my own curriculum, it was refreshing to watch my existing lessons take on a life of their own. Teaching social studies is not about dispersing knowledge to students; it is about making the topics apply to them in the modern era. Who cares about feudalism? Well, you might if you play chess…
When I first began Weiland’s ED 800, I did not know what to think of it. It was the first self-paced course which required absolutely no interaction between enrolled students I had ever taken. Nonetheless, I truly consider it one of the best classes I took during my Master’s. It was not what I learned from others as much as what I learned about myself as an educator that strikes me about this experience. ED 800 brought the significance of self-inquiry to the forefront of my pedagogical practice. Requiring the use of various books by E.D. Hirsch, Vivian Paley, and other influential academic thinkers, Weiland introduced me to highly applicable concepts that I immediately began putting into practice. These include personal academic writings, student-inquiry guided lessons, and analytically considering what is worth teaching.
Where the sidewalk ends, and before the street begins…
If it is one’s experiences that shape them for the future, I firmly believe that it is due to my journey through Michigan State University’s Master’s program that I have not only become more of the educator I envisioned, but the student I need to be in a PhD program. Working diligently through my Master’s coursework, it was easy to forget about the importance of each experience on my way to the next degree program. Now that graduation is merely months away I have the opportunity to reflect on exactly what I have accomplished, how much has changed, and the measure of my own success in the program. While it is tempting to simply indicate that a 4.0 GPA is proof enough of my success as a Master’s student, I do not believe it tells the whole story. I did not simply fulfill all the requirements of the Master’s, I took the lessons to heart, applied them to my practice, and made them an integral part of who I am as a high school teacher. I have critiqued the mediums of social studies education, systematically reevaluated my practice to best meet the needs of individual students, incorporated cutting edge technology as a tool and not a means to an end, pushed the boundaries of my own creativity to inspire students to do the same, and taken the advice of established educational thinkers by truly evaluating what is worth teaching in my classroom. If learning and applying is success in the Master’s program at MSU, then I can tell my student that I have in fact been successful—and it feels great!
I may be finishing my Master’s degree, but I still have plenty of growing left professionally and personally, a journey in itself that I will be continuing long after my formal education comes to an end. Although I believe that learning spans a lifetime, I hope that I will be moving into the next academic phase soon. As Shel Silverstein says later in his poem:
If it is one’s experiences that shape them for the future, I firmly believe that it is due to my journey through Michigan State University’s Master’s program that I have not only become more of the educator I envisioned, but the student I need to be in a PhD program. Working diligently through my Master’s coursework, it was easy to forget about the importance of each experience on my way to the next degree program. Now that graduation is merely months away I have the opportunity to reflect on exactly what I have accomplished, how much has changed, and the measure of my own success in the program. While it is tempting to simply indicate that a 4.0 GPA is proof enough of my success as a Master’s student, I do not believe it tells the whole story. I did not simply fulfill all the requirements of the Master’s, I took the lessons to heart, applied them to my practice, and made them an integral part of who I am as a high school teacher. I have critiqued the mediums of social studies education, systematically reevaluated my practice to best meet the needs of individual students, incorporated cutting edge technology as a tool and not a means to an end, pushed the boundaries of my own creativity to inspire students to do the same, and taken the advice of established educational thinkers by truly evaluating what is worth teaching in my classroom. If learning and applying is success in the Master’s program at MSU, then I can tell my student that I have in fact been successful—and it feels great!
I may be finishing my Master’s degree, but I still have plenty of growing left professionally and personally, a journey in itself that I will be continuing long after my formal education comes to an end. Although I believe that learning spans a lifetime, I hope that I will be moving into the next academic phase soon. As Shel Silverstein says later in his poem:
Shel Silverstein
“Yes we’ll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we’ll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.”
My sidewalk may be coming to an end, but the street is just beginning…