In the last few days of Listening To Music, I knew I would never see Marco and never get to rely on him to Speak In Class again
(or at least, I wouldn't be able to rely on him to secure the class a
participation grade anymore). So I studied his ways and wiles. This was
my only motivation. Don't believe the hype. I didn't like him, I just
wanted to know how he could talk about so many things in class. And now,
I have denied that I liked him too vehemently and you will assume I
liked him anyway. Go ahead. Do what you like. I know the truth.
Observation
number one: When the teacher pauses to wait for an answer, Marco pauses
too. Theorem: this is to allow the teacher time to decide if he does,
in fact, want to wait for an answer. One in five times, he does not. he
continues on.
Observation number two: When it turns into a
full-blown question, Marco does not raise his hand. He actually starts
tapping his pencil against his teeth. I thought people only did that in
movies. This is so the teacher can stew/so Marco doesn't appear to
actually be giving all the answers. The pencil makes a pleasant tap tap
tap on his teeth. He doesn't vary the rhythm. I don't think this is a
vital part of the process, but it was worth noting.
Observation number three: If worse comes to worse, Marco realizes
he must answer the question. He stops tapping his teeth (again,
probably not vital) and sets his hands on the table. He waits for the
teacher to make direct eye contact, and then he raises his hand, slowly,
to just above shoulder height. This shows he is willing to answer the
question, but none too thrilled about it. I don't know if this is deceit
on his part, or genuine. Either way, I'm sympathetic. The teacher
clears his throat. Every time. Marco answers. The answer is not always
good or admirable, and it is only right part of the time. However, it is
enough that the teacher looks at him with thankyoueyes and moves on
with the lesson.
Observation number four: Marco's hair curls down over his ear.
Sometimes this curl goes into his ear. He then pulls it back out and
behind his ear with his finger in a very absent-minded way. This is not
vital; I just noticed.
Observation number five: Marco turned and looked at me today
right after he gave an answer about a blues piece that had a lot of
steel guitar and a kind of sssh sssh sound of wires on a snare drum and
he turned around nearly all the way in his seat and scanned the back of
the classroom until he saw me and he caught me looking at him and I
caught him looking at me and we both flicked our eyes away like "what do
you mean I'm looking at you nuh uh I'm just scanning the classroom" but
when I looked back he was looking at me again and so I looked down and
he turned around and that was about all of that.
Observation number six: After he finishes answering/discussing his answer, he shuts up for five minutes or more. Often, the teacher (excited by his minor victory of an answered question) will
accidentally ask many more questions. Marco avoids his gaze. The teacher
(unsure of himself) stops asking questions. After two of these
occurrences, they both form the symbiotic pattern and the teacher only
asks questions about every five minutes (and only one at a time, so when
they come, they're doozies) and Marco only answers about every five
minutes.
Observation number seven: I don't know now whether observation
number six is self-preservation on Marco's part, or an attempt to not
show off. It's possible it's both or neither.
Observation number eight: On the day Marco looked back, he waited
at the door to the classroom. I ducked out the other door because because and nobody better judge me for it. He saw me, though, and caught me in the hall.
"Hey
Catherine," here he cleared his throat because because and I'm judging
him for it. "After this class, you don't suppose we'll see each other
again?"
"Well, I'm friends with Rosalyn and you're friends with Enrique and they're friends so I guess maybe?"
"That's not what I asked."
"Then ask me what you asked, because that sounded like the answer to the question."
"Are we going to see each other after this semester?"
"Like, around?"
"Yeah, sure?"
"I . . ." paused. I felt at that moment a great need to run from his question. "I don't know. What do you think, Marco?"
"I think yes. But I'm not foolish enough to think it's only up to me.
Well, I'll see you around if I see you, ok? Until Friday, anyway." He
smiled big enough to shame a five year old and walked away whistling.
Observation number nine: I missed an opportunity.
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I love this. I think it might be my favorite so far. I'm not sure.
ReplyDeleteAlso, I love how the teacher is a mixture of teachers, but there's definitely Haluska in there. Because I know for a fact that the way Marco answers is how you answer in his classes. Don't worry, I do that too. I don't answer unless there's eye contact after a decent enough pause.
ReplyDeleteOh, yes. :-)
ReplyDeleteI'm glad I don't ever answer in Haluska's classes.
That's terrible and you know it.
ReplyDeleteYou say my not answering in class is terrible, but you also get frustrated when you're the one answering all the time, yes?
ReplyDeleteI started answering in Haluska's World Lit class, and once I did, no one else in class ever answered. Other people had spoken up in class up to that point, but as soon as I started saying stuff, some sort of switch went off in everyone's minds, or something, and from that point on, every class was just a conversation between me and Haluska.
I enjoyed those conversations, but I don't go to class to listen to myself talk. I can (and do) talk to Haluska on my own time.
As for other classes where I don't talk . . . I have reasons. And I realize you try to work with the teachers and you take pity on them, and that's wonderful for you. But if your answer is wrong, and you know it, what good have you done? If your answer just reiterates what the teacher has already said, you're just wasting time.
If you're answering a question that requires creative or critical thinking, realize that other students think slower than you do, and you've just robbed them of their chance to think for themselves because they will never believe that their ideas would have been as good as yours.
Most classes have a few students who answer all the questions, and the reasons for that are not always what you think. Some students who don't talk have been trained to think their ideas are useless (Esther). Some of them simply need more time to process the question than you and the teacher allow (Caitlin). Some of them just want to hear what you have to say because you've already established that you think creatively and well (me). Some of them really cannot think of answers.
Well, that was fun.
ReplyDeleteThe claim in that last paragraph (not always what you think) is not true. I've thought of all that.
ReplyDeleteHowever, I would make the claim that it doesn't matter. Part of the point of school is to learn how to be adaptable and learn how to survive in diverse situations (lectures, group work, projects, papers). The students' failure to do so is possibly due to factors beyond their control, and yet--part of it is surely the entitlement rampant in our age. My grandmother wouldn't have ever taken silence as an answer.
Additionally: if I give an answer that I know is wrong, I at least have reasons to back it up. I can answer why I know it's wrong. BUT it satisfies the student-teacher contract of "I ask questions, you answer them, I correct you when you're wrong." It's like punching numbers into a calculator. You may not know the answer going in, but you certainly do coming out.
And that's the point. It's not wrong or useless; just time consuming. I, personally, would prefer for the teachers to just sit us down and tell us truths. That's not an option, so I seek for the next best thing.
ALSO: you must remember that you are not responsible for anybody else in that class. Ever. If they don't answer or are insulted by your speed, that's not your fault. It would be nice and christian of you to think of them, but at a certain point, they MUST be adults on their own, and be able to survive without being coddled by their peers/leaders. I mean, Jesus let his disciples grow up (Go out in groups of two and teach in my name). That's a pretty good example.
P.S. I get super peeved when people don't approach me when they have a problem with me and instead go over my head. That's not right. They shouldn't do that. I understand I'm difficult to approach. That same annoyance of being treated as a non-entity is why I dislike when people depend on others to think for them.
And! All of that being said, I am just as likely to make the same manner of claims to support my failings, so my point is just as likely moot as valid.
ReplyDeleteHaha, "P.S."
ReplyDeleteSorry. Also, I love that "moot" has completely changed in meaning from the original. (Also also: both meanings actually work with your usage, which I find awesome.)
Now for your points. Pretty much everything you said, I can understand. I can see reasons for it. Of course you've thought of everything I've thought of. And that right there is why. Because sometimes survival means acknowledging one's own weaknesses.
I know you think it's entitlement. I'm not sure I understand what you mean by that part. I mean, you already told me you think people don't have the right to remain silent (although they actually sort of do). But have you ever considered (probably) that it may be more fear than entitlement driving it? Have you ever considered that some people have been brought up to believe that silence is not a right but a responsibility?
I cannot speak for everyone, but I used to always talk in class. In elementary and middle school, I waited for other people to answer, and then I eventually gave the teacher the right answer. I was ostracized for it for years. In high school, I sometimes answered with what they wanted me to say, and sometimes with what I really believed. When I said what they wanted me to say, I was accused of brown-nosing, and when I said what I thought, my teachers almost invariably told me to keep my opinions to myself. That sounds like hyperbole, but I am not joking when I say that I made no friends in school until I got to college.
I know that college is different, but I cannot bring myself to speak up in class unless I know the teacher and his/her expectations very well, because I have experienced serious consequences for saying the wrong thing. I don't speak up in any of my classes unless I've had a class with the teacher for at least one semester AND have built up something of a rapport with him or her outside of class. I would guess that you don't think my reasons for doing so are valid, but Wurstle's class is the first time when I've seriously doubted my method, and the only reason I doubt it is you.
You say that you would prefer a different style of teaching, a different student-teacher contract. But how can we have a different one if we do not press for a change? When teachers ask questions and no one answers, they eventually try something new, get down to business, set us down and tell us truths. Your answers prolong the system you say is not ideal and postpones the system you would prefer.
ReplyDeleteJesus let His disciples grow up, sure. He had them go out and practice what they had learned. But how often did He ask them questions? Beyond this, how many of His disciples answered those questions? In the end, I think you'll find that He asked questions when His students needed questions, and He let His students question Him when they needed answers. His classroom had full participation when it actually counted.
I know you don't like people going over your head instead of approaching you, but you do not strike most people as someone who would listen to a problem people had with you unless you respected them, so they take it to someone you respect. Now, I know that that is not true because I tell you stuff all the time, but I often ask other people why they don't talk to you about stuff, and their answer is always, "We don't have that kind of relationship. He wouldn't listen to me."
I think the last thing you can pretend is true is the idea that people treat you like a non-entity. Everybody watches you. Everybody has an opinion on you. You are interesting, you are polarizing, and you've become something of a local celebrity. In all of that, people miss the real you, and I realize that. But even if everybody is watching a fabrication of you they've made up, you are not a non-entity.
I am still amazed that John Finnemore took time to personally respond to me because he is a celebrity, he is busy, and I should have gone through an agent. Yet when I stop to think about his character, I can see that it shouldn't have surprised me.
Perhaps at this point you will say that I care too much what other people think. Perhaps you are right.
ReplyDelete