Teaching Statement
Sharing my philosophy on teaching ahead of SpacEd Out 101 starting in earnest next week
I withdrew from college the spring of my junior year – an act that ran counter to the perfectionist identity I had defined myself by for 21 years. The more I immersed myself in the diverse campus community of intelligent, confident peers, the more inspired, and confused, I became. I could not see how I fit into this vibrant tapestry, what real value I could offer to the world. It took the guidance of a professor – one that worked diligently to know his students – to challenge me to lean into my discomfort. I had to step off the straight and narrow path I had worked so hard to follow in order to better understand the bigger picture.
This experience serves as an anchor for me in my teaching practice in two key ways. First, it reminds me that students are more than the academic persona they present in the classroom; they carry a complex, interwoven set of identities, interests, anxieties, and strengths. To get to know my students as whole persons, I hold one-on-one meetings, host regular open and welcoming office hours, and facilitate engaged classroom conversations. These tools help me learn about individual needs and goals, which in turn allows me to more effectively create a classroom culture in which each student feels seen and is challenged, yet capable.
Second, my own college experience encourages me to emphasize skills over content in my courses. I want to move students away from the false security of knowing facts and figures, of acing tests and quizzes. Instead, we focus on the more vulnerable but transformative task of developing a voice. Through a variety of student-centered learning experiences, my students hone reading, writing, and critical thinking skills that are transferable to other pursuits — academic or otherwise. Centering the learning around tools for considering the course content, challenging ideas, and developing a richer worldview allows each student to find a place for themselves in the course.
To meet these goals, I take course design and lesson planning seriously. As I craft a syllabus, I plan backwards – what are the main skills and experiences I want my students to take away from this course, and what do I need to do to get there? I think carefully about scaffolding assignments, creating opportunities for student choice, and leaving space for adaptation if desired or necessary as we move as a community through the semester. When planning for individual classes, I put a lot of time into thinking about the flow of the session and whether what I have planned serves that class’s specific learning goal1. It is the same approach I ask my students to take when reviewing their own or a peer’s work — what is the point of this paragraph?; Does the information included in that paragraph work together toward making that point?; Does this paragraph help achieve the purpose of the paper? By having a clear, shared goal for the class, and designing learner-driven experiences with relevant scaffolds for each student to meet that goal, I — and my students — can better assess the effectiveness of my teaching.
In short, my number one hope is that my students feel empowered, challenged, and safe to be themselves. Nothing has brought me more joy than hearing from former students, asking me for references because they felt I knew them well as a student and as a person, telling me how they took some of the writing and reading strategies we used and applied them to another endeavor, or making sure I knew about a connection between something we discussed in class and a current event. This student experience, more than quantifiable academic metrics, is on what I base my personal understanding of success.
SpacEd Out 101 will not be an exact translation of this teaching philosophy, given its virtual nature and lack of official roster2. But hopefully you’ll be able to pick up on my teaching style and see some examples of student-centered learning throughout the reading series.
A ritual that I have carried over from my high school teaching days into my college classrooms: literally writing out the learning goal on the board, or the virtual daily agenda doc. Doesn’t matter if you’re a high school sophomore or an Ivy League upperclassman — it feels good to know the goals and expectations for the day upfront!
a generous way of putting “no students”