Teaching Career Sought; Artistic Endeavour Found

It has come to my attention that a significant number of my colleagues are anxious to start their career.   My colleagues and I have just recently finished teaching for four months in a school in Saskatchewan, completing our internship as a part of the Arts Education program.  I’ve heard in the past that the last semester of university is a drag for post-interns.  I’ve heard this from returning students like myself, as well as actual teachers.  This is mainly due to the notion that once one has a taste of the job, they only want to go back and start doing it for a living.  These people seemingly “check out” of their last semester before it has even begun.  Although I can understand where these people are coming from, I find it somewhat peculiar that I don’t share this perspective or notion.  I am a 27-year old student, finishing my degree in arts education, and have very little desire to start my career straight away.  None of my colleagues are my age, save the few that have been accepted into the program as after-degree students, aptly named BEAD students (Bachelor of Education After Degree).  So why are a good majority of my colleagues so anxious to start their lives in the teaching world, when I feel like I am exactly where I’m supposed to be?

We have spent countless hours within our program reflecting on who we have become as individuals, and as pre-service teachers.  Reflection is necessary in our program because, at times, it helps us to develop awareness for thoughts, ideologies, and beliefs that may have gone unnoticed through the thick of our practical work.  Reflecting takes us back to where we were, and what we were thinking in the moment, but might not have realized.  Sometimes the process can be quite useful, as introspection is a powerful tool in discovering the true nature of ourselves.  Other times, one discovers nothing other than what they were already aware of, and the process becomes no more than journaling.

Through reflection, we have all been expected to be developing our “philosophy of teaching” over the years.  I believe this is a truly wonderful idea, for all of us to have a clear and distinct ideology for what is expected of ourselves, the objectives, and the workings of the profession.  However, I have always had an issue with the whole idea of creating a philosophy of teaching as a student.  Simply put, how can I have a philosophy of something that I’ve spent no more than a few months practicing?

On October 22, 2011, I wrote a blog post entitled Inspiring Individualism.  Within that blog post, I wrote the following:

“Help yourself so you know how to help your students.  I would love to construct an “educational philosophy” about my beliefs and ideals towards teaching, but in all honesty, I’d like to just construct a plain old philosophy about my beliefs and ideals towards life first.   SO, what I’m essentially getting at is, if one is void of inspiration, motivation, and all the like-terms, how does one expect to motivate others to learn, let alone learn about oneself, and truly inspire individualism?”¹

During this time, I was around the halfway point of my internship at a high school in Regina, SK.  I was teaching three to four classes a day all as a part of acquiring my bachelors degree.  There’s something about not getting paid a dime for a job you’re thinking of starting a career in.  Not only do you not get paid for a minute of it, you’re charged tuition for a full-time semester.  Needless to say, you find out if the profession is meant for you rather quickly.  I enjoyed my internship as a completely unique experience in my life, and reaffirmed that I belong in a high school educational setting.  I built some incredible professional relationships with other teachers and administrators, and founded bonds with multiple students.  Yet, at the end of the day I struggled in feeling ready to be paid for this kind of work.

Certain days of my internship would approach with a seeming lack of preparation, despite my neatly typed lesson plans that were, in themselves, part of a succinct unit plan.  Perhaps this was simply because I walked into nearly every lesson without prior knowledge or experience of running it.  I am personally now believing that it could be much more than nerves.  This goes back to my own quote I mentioned previously.

I have ideas towards my philosophy of education, but I have firmly believed that it should always be in adaptation.  On that note, my philosophy has largely been left unfinished.  I never thought that it made sense for me to complete such an ideology before I finished my program, let alone before putting my first couple years of teaching under my belt.  In 2008, I stated in an assignment that:

“A relationship between teaching and learning should be pure.  This means that integrity and authenticity should always be considered when building the relationship between a teacher and a student.  It is also in my belief that in order to grow and prosper as teacher, one must become a life-long learner.  Without the continuation of gaining knowledge, interest or desire in one’s career may very well diminish.”

This assignment asked us as students to construct our philosophy of education.  Among the other things that I had written back then, this is the only paragraph that I feel has stood the test of time.  The rest may as well be adapted, changed, or removed.  However, I felt this paragraph was important to mention specifically because of one thing: life-long learning.  This is a concept we learned early in our studies of education, and I believe it is also among the most important.  It is also a determining factor in why I feel I am not ready to pursue a career just yet.

It comes down to what I’ve been trained to teach, and my own experience in it all.  Music is my major, along with drama being my minor, and I am passionate about both, especially the former.  Music has been a staple in my life as long as I can remember, but perhaps not in the most traditional sense.  I listened to Loverboy, Billy Idol, and Twisted Sister on my Fisher Price record player at the age of 4. I collected CDs from an early age and am now sitting at the 400 mark. I was a band student for no more than a couple years before quitting to pick up the guitar.  I have continually played guitar for the last thirteen years, and have written and performed my own material in a number of bands, ranging from rock and pop-punk to post-hardcore.  It has lead my musical tastes and knowledge to be fairly broad.

However, I am now at an age where I have the capacity to build that knowledge and use it in a constructive process, in a professional and/or creative manner.  When my program finishes, there is every opportunity for myself to explore the potentials in the skills and knowledge I possess, artistically, educationally, and experientially.  I am convinced that, as a future educator, this is one of the most beneficial undertakings I could partake in.  As I mentioned earlier, there is that seeming lack of preparation that I had felt, and I believe it stems from the desire to further myself as an artistic being, as well as the desire to become the educator I have always thought was achievable.

I am interested in bringing a new foundation for music programs in high schools.  One that no longer concentrates on teaching students aspects of music that are not beneficial to them.  While I am aware that there is a major overhaul of the Saskatchewan curriculums currently in progress, perhaps re-writing the curriculum for Music or “Arts Education” is not the answer.  According to the Saskatchewan Curriculum website, the most up-to-date curriculum for a high school general music class can be found under “Arts Education 10, 20, 30” and was put into practice in September of 1996; over fifteen years ago.  To put this date into perspective, it was five years prior to the 1^st generation iPod being released to the public.²  Saskatchewan’s music curriculums are running on ideas that precede one of the most revolutionary audio inventions of our time.

Not to mention that, in our day and age, the music industry has become an increasingly complex market to navigate; one that is drastically different than that of which we saw in 1996.  This is due to a new generation of music distribution techniques, some of which are legal, others not so much, which has the music industry’s profits plummeting at significant rates.³

Perhaps the answer to an outdated curriculum lies in a new approach to music altogether.  I spent most of my university career waiting for that one class to be able to teach or show me where to find the resources I was looking for; the tools I needed so I could teach students exactly what I thought would be beneficial to them.  Funny enough, a class that pointed me in the right direction was classified as being through the Faculty of Fine Arts, and as a media studies class.  The subjects mentioned above are a glimpse of what I believe should be considered for a new generation of general music students.  How do I flesh out these ideas and turn them into projects and activities that are practical?  How can I create a new pathway for students in a subject that is deeply rooted in its early history and traditional methods?  These are some questions that I have asked myself.  Thus, this is why I believe it is important that I spend time to identify, research, develop, and fine tune the knowledge I need to thrive in my endeavours.  I also believe the same amount of effort is necessary for me artistically, as practicing something I teach should be of equal importance.  As a future educator, this is what I perceive life-long learning as, and how it should be approached by all educators.

Sources

http://jjpelletier.wordpress.com/2009/10/22/inspiring-individualism/

http://www.apple.com/pr/library/2001/10/23Apple-Presents-iPod.html

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/01/24/technology/24music.html?_r=1&pagewanted=all

Full Circle.

Today is my second last day of internship. Tomorrow will be exactly as you remember your last day of school before Christmas holidays. Teachers putting on movies and letting students play games in class. I honestly thought I’d be more excited than this.

Last week, I was excited. I was jumping out of my seat with anticipation. I’d go home with butterflies in my stomach knowing the end was near, and this whole process would have a big checkmark next to it. This week, it feels bittersweet.

There have been a lot of experiences I’ve been a part of here that I wouldn’t trade for anything. I’ve enjoyed them so much that I have decided to remain a part of some even after I leave. I mentioned in the past that I’d be co-coaching the improv team, and I’ll be doing that well into February. If our team wins, I’ll be coaching until April.

What happens now? Well, Christmas, and then back to uni. I’m registered in a number of classes that I’m fairly excited to take part in. One being “Psychology of Music.” I imagine this will be quite relevant to what I want to teach. I’ve found through word of mouth that most people aren’t particularly interested in going back to university after internship has finished. I can understand this, in that when you’ve had a taste of what your potential career consists of, you just want to be done with university. I think I’m partially excited to go back to school because I feel there is so much more I can still learn there. It makes me wonder if I’ll go back to get another degree (most likely in the arts), or upgrade to a masters of sorts. I know that is not in the cards right now, but perhaps somewhere down the line it will be.

You know that feeling you get when something is finished, and you’ve succeeded and now you can move on to the next thing in your life, whatever that may be? This usually happens to me at the end of every semester. It’s not happening right now. Maybe it’s too soon, maybe it’ll hit me this weekend when I’m ACTUALLY done. My conscience knows the importance of this ending, but for some reason I’m just not feeling it.

Yesterday I had this strange experience while I was teaching my grade 9 drama class. I was speaking to them regarding something and I suddenly became… (thoughtful pause) self-aware? I don’t know. I just became extremely conscious of what I was partaking in. Kinda like how I was the first day of school. After a couple weeks of teaching, it started to become second nature and I would just do it. It would just happen (with the help of a lesson plan every now and again). Yesterday, while I was teaching, my thoughts in my mind were precisely this: “Holy s***! These kids are listening to me! I am walking around this class guiding 20-some teeny-boppers through this class!” I’m glad I accidentally took the time to realize that before I finished. Thinking back on it, it felt like taking one last look at your bare house, stripped of everything that made it what it was, right before you move out of it forever.

I have some friends who were also going through their internship this semester. A few of them have expressed that they will become waterfalls on their last day. I think I’m going to do the exact opposite. I’m just going to laugh my a** off the entire time. Saying things like: “Can you believe THAT was your semester?” and “If they let us get away with this, what can’t we pull off!?” I mean this in the best way, of course. It’s not like we played 7-up and duck duck goose the entire time (although we did play this game called duck, duck, gutenberg which is basically the same game, except a full-contact version of it).

I want to mention in this post specifically that I am very thankful to those who took the time to read this blog. It definitely made it worthwhile knowing there were at least a few people tuning in to what I was doing. Some people expressed ideas that it would be extremely funny to be a fly-on-the-wall in my class. Hopefully this granted that wish somewhat. Also, I’d like to thank those who have supported me through this endeavour. I can’t begin to name all of you, but you definitely know who you are. I know it sounds cliché but I couldn’t have made it through this without the constant encouragement I’ve received from you all. I am forever grateful and have a new-found respect for everyone involved, on top of the respect I already have for you.

Well, this is it, I suppose. It’s been surreal. I’ll continue to post, however, my posts may not be as significant or worthwhile as some that I’ve done in recent memory. Also, there is one post I held off on posting earlier this semester, for reasons that will be made apparent once it’s up. That post can be found here. It should be up for reading within the next few days.

Everything happens for a reason.

In an odd coincidence, I was asked a question regarding my reasoning for being a teacher twice on Tuesday.  I had a job interview (not for a teaching position) and one of the only questions I was asked was “so why did you decide to become a teacher?”  Later on that night, I was catching up with an old friend, and we started talking about my internship.  The same question popped up!  I found it rather peculiar that I answered the question twice.  The reason for me deciding to pursue a path in education has never changed.

I taught guitar lessons to students from ages 5-45 for about two years when I was living in Sherwood Park, AB.  This job came to me through a man who had started his own contracting company that dealt with music lessons.  He would get the calls from parents or potential students who were interested in lessons, and from there, he’d send out a selection of those people to me (as I was not the only contract teacher that he had).  In my first year, I had twenty students.  Most of the students that I taught had little to no experience.  At the time, I had thought teaching guitar was fairly easy and fun.  The job paid well, but was not full time as lessons were once a week for half an hour.  To fill in my extra hours, I picked up a job at Superstore.

Working at Superstore was an absolute joke.  The pay was terrible, the vast majority of the management were complete tools, and the work was mindless and excruciating.  I had three or four friends who worked in the same department that kept me on the edge of sanity, as I was clearly about to jump off it most of the time.  My shifts lasted around the 5-6 hour mark and they crawled by me at a snail’s pace.  It was misery.  To say the least, the last thing I wanted to do when I got home from such a shift was work another job.

Regardless, I didn’t have a choice.  I’d come home, and prepare for the 4-5 lessons I had to teach usually an hour after I got off work at Superstore.  I’d either get in my car or set up chairs and amps in my room, as certain lessons were taught out of the students’ homes, and some were taught in my room!  Pretty cozy work environment.  I started to realize that the environment I worked in played a significant role in the overall enjoyment of my job.  I also discovered that communicating with people was another aspect of working that I enjoyed, so long as that communication was constructive and/or positive.

My guitar teaching calendar ran on the same calendar as the kids’ school calendars.  Therefor I started up in September and finished mid-June.  During the finishing months of my lessons, I started to realize something profound: my students were learning. In the course of the year, I was literally witnessing the progress they had made as guitar players.  Some were playing along to their favourite green day songs on CD, while before, they couldn’t remember how to finger specific chords.  Some of the students had learned simplified versions of solos of AC/DC, and could play along in accompaniment, where before they had troubles picking the right strings.  I had specific students who could have been considered at the top of the class, had I taught all 20 at once.  They were playing songs with the skill level of a third or fourth year player.

In realizing that my students were learning, another light bulb illuminated!  Was I responsible for this progress?  Well no, not entirely.  Did I have a hand in it?  Absolutely.  I provided the students with the tools necessary to succeed, along with the encouragement that was due to them.  On top of that, I loved every single minute of it, even the minutes with the students that never practiced.  Thus, the energy I was bringing to the table became contagious.  My students loved it all the same as I did.  It became starkly clear that I had tapped into something I had never experienced before.  Kind of like the first time you’re conscious of the love you have for something or someone.  What I had tapped into was the notion that the reward of seeing my students succeed in their goals, and having a part in it, was more rewarding than getting paid to do it.  No matter how worn down I was by my mundane job at Superstore, I never had a bad day teaching guitar.  Never.

As I spoke with my friend on Tuesday, he said something to me that concerned him.  He wanted to know that I wasn’t one of those teachers that got into it because I felt it was the only thing I could get through in university.  I needed clarity.  What did he mean by this?  That education was among the simplest of programs in university?  No, he meant that he wanted to make sure I had my reasons lined up for why I chose education, as opposed to choosing by default because I wasn’t interested in anything else there.  I assured him this was not the case.  Not once did I choose to be in education simply because the other academic paths did not appeal to me.  Not only that, when I came to all those realizations of what teaching meant to me back in 2005-2006, I wondered why my own education couldn’t have been as exciting as this had proven to be.  I had so many teachers whose influence on me was more negative than positive.  Not one teacher that I had made me stand up and say: “What you do is incredible!  I want to do what you do for a living!”  Quite the opposite, in fact.  I had more teachers than I could count who made me want to say: “You blow at this, and I could do it much better than you.”  Now I’m not trying to boast, but I believe that if anyone cared enough to change something they saw being done wrong, they would.  It only makes sense that I should do this.  The fact that I love it and that I feel it’s a personal duty to the world around me act as motivators for one another, in that if I lose faith in one, the other picks up the slack.

In the end, I know why I’m here.  I’ve had doubts and second thoughts, but I believe that’s a part of the learning process in reaffirming that I’m on the right path.  This internship has been one of those reaffirmations.

Late penalties.

So I might have gotten carried away with my last post.  I still more or less concur with everything I wrote.  However, I think while I was writing, I somehow thought that I was already done my internship.  Today proved that is NOT the case.

I’ve had this running issue with students.  There is a significant problem with them handing assignments in at the school.  Moreover, the school has a “school-wide” policy regarding late assignments stating that kids lose 20% for being late 1 day, another 10% for the second day, and a final 10% on the third.  So if a student hands in an assignment 3 days late, they’re instantly losing 40%.  Which will almost instantly fail any assignment that isn’t near perfection.  After 3 days, students get a 0.

I have one student who is purposely skipping class so she doesn’t have to perform a final project for the improv unit we’ve been doing.  This is quite literally the equivalent of skipping class so one doesn’t have to write a final unit exam.  I can understand the notion of stage fright, because some of us are not as keen on public speaking as others. This particular student has already had me call her parents and talk to student services in an attempt to avoid the task of public speaking. To me, it seems like the all the effort she’s expending towards avoidance is far greater than the 90 seconds of effort that would be required to finish the assignment. If her energy could somehow be re-directed towards breaking through her fears, what progress she’d make!  It’s beyond frustrating when a student straight up asks me: “Can you just give me a zero?”

She’s not the only one I’ve seen skip class because of something that isn’t finished.  The worst part of it is the amount of class time that I give to students to complete these assignments.  It is extremely rare that I assign anything without giving the kids at least some class time, if not close to the entire week to work on it.  So when I have half the work not come in on the due date, I’m literally at a loss for what I can do.  My co-op says I shouldn’t take it personally, and I don’t.  However, I really don’t feel like I’m doing my job when I have students just pissing away the time I’m giving them, and on top of that, not getting the assignments in on time.

Apparently, this is all part of the territory.  This is something that I have to learn to deal with, either by confronting it or rolling with it.

The Inevitable Approaches.

As my three-week-block is a mere week away, I’ve had some dilemmas to sort out in preparation for it. One of those dilemmas was what class I would pick up as my fourth and final class, so I would be essentially working as a full time teacher. As some may know, I am a music major in the arts ed. program, however I have not been teaching any sort of music class as of yet. Unfortunate, but I’ve been given wonderful opportunities with my co-op to get involved with equally exciting and engaging programs. Recently, I took it upon myself to join in on the festivities of coaching the “Improv team.” Would probably not have occurred if I wasn’t teaching drama. Everything works out in the end, I suppose.

But back to the point, I was hoping to get my hands a little dirty in the music program here at school. With the conflicts in scheduling with the fine arts in general at the school, however, I would have to drop teaching drama in order to start teaching a general music class. At this point, things are hectic enough that the whole scenario is pretty much a make-work project, in that I’d essentially be picking up TWO classes because I’d have to drop drama, pick up music, and then pick up something else because I had ridded myself of the drama class.

I know, it’s complicated. Call me if you want to hear me vent about it.

So instead of grabbing a music class, I have decided to teach media studies.  This should be fairly interesting, I thought to myself. It’s a class of grade 11′s who are currently studying the effects of advertising on our culture.  I will be bringing the education straight to them on music in our culture, as well as its contribution to social networking and the effects its had on the music business in general.  I’m rather stoked, now that I’m typing about it.

Regardless, as I said, the inevitable approaches. I have exactly a week before my 3 week block starts and stuff gets real. This is the moment of my university career that I’ve been dreading and/or dreaming of for the last four years.

An Ulterior Product.

It’s been two weeks now since I picked up my second class in my internship.  This class is Drama 10/20/30 and is compiled of 17 energetic and surprisingly close students.  I assume that they are all fairly close as they have the whole dramatic passion thing in common, but I’m sure there are probably other reasons for it being so.  Moving forward, these kids are great.  I’d complain about their chattiness but I’d prefer they’d be chatty than mutes.  So overall, they’re fantastic to be working with on a daily basis.  Some of the kids in this class are also a part of the drama production so I spend a fair amount of my day with a select number of these kids.  Which makes what we’re working on all the more fascinating, hilarious, and awe inspiring: STAGE COMBAT!

Today I had so many lines crossed in my class I wondered if I needed to intervene.  But given the fact that we’re in a theatre class, I do have the sense to know that the kids are just going for shock value.  It worked.  No one was offended in the end so I guess we’re safe… for now.

Usually the lessons work by students being taught (by me) a number of similar techniques to attempt and practice in slow motion.  As they practice these techniques, we have other members of the class and myself provide feedback for what looks good, and what could use more focus or attention.  Although the students find this mildly boring at times, it’s understandable because the other half of the lesson, they’re coming up with ways to figuratively beat the **** out of each other in the most absurd yet compelling ways.

It’s extremely riveting to watch not only because of the well-being and safety of these kids, and not only because of the fact that it’s downright uproarious at points, but mainly because what the students come up with is leaps and bounds beyond the simple techniques that I’ve given them to use.  In other words, the sum is greater than the whole of its parts, and it’s so refreshing to see that kind of creativity at work.  The students appreciate this part of the lesson most because they are able to experience something for themselves, and bring to life a world that can only exist in their imaginations for the vast majority of the time.  Granted that world in this case is immersed in (staged) violence, there is something else at work here.  It’s not just choke holds and eye gouges, upper cuts and groin kicks, it’s the ability to turn these things into a product that develops interpersonal skills in the process.  A product that builds on confidence and the ability to devise something from nothing.  A product that teaches others to build on their own progress and consider alternatives for themselves.  A product that shares personal growth in a supportive foundation.  A product that warms the heart and incites sincere laughter from individuals who can relate.

Why isn’t every part of education like this?

Creating a work of art. Nurturing a life of art.

Teaching is a pretty interesting gig.

There are those who tend to think that those who can’t do, teach.  This statement holds some validity to it.  In my mind, it’s really nothing to be ashamed of.  The fact of the matter is, not all artists can make a living with their art.  It’s a dog-eat-dog career path, with stability resembling the current state of the American economy.  It excites me, however, that art is being created in new ways now than it ever has before.  With that comes the potential for new mediums to shine, as well as the artists who work with them.  Following those artists are the educators who inspired them, and encouraged them to grow.

Some believe that natural talent and innate comprehension of such skills exist.  I do not know what to believe as I have been educated to believe that it does not, but I personally experienced it myself.  I do know this, however.  My natural talent (if I can call it that) was fostered and strengthened by those who worked with me, those who encouraged me, and those who educated me.  I was never solely responsible for the gift I possess.

That is why I will never be ashamed that I chose to teach instead of do for a living.  I would much rather be a part of someone else discovering their aptitude, individuality, and world through the arts, rather than struggle to have someone see my own.  It was always a privilege and a hobby to be able to create pieces of music and it gives me a satisfaction like no other.  To influence the very skill that someone uses to create, however, is at this point, an ever-expanding introspection with no foreseeable conclusion.

Back at it.

So this post may be a little late, but––I’ve started my internship.

This has been a long time coming, and now that it is actually in progress, it has been difficult for me to make the complete realization.

My internship is being held at an inner-city school that has anything but “inner-city” quality.  My co-operating teacher, Jolene, is in charge of the drama program at the school.  Thus, part of that responsibility has been passed off to me.  The whole experience has been rather surreal.  My first class I have picked up is a set of 25 grade 9′s for arts ed 9, focusing on the dramatic arts.  I have made the first couple weeks for those students an orientation to build their expectations of the class.  It has gone quite well in my opinion.  The kids started off rather shy, as one would expect grade 9s to be.  I think I felt more nervous than they did on the first day.  Although it’s starting to feel like the teaching process is coming naturally now, it still feels so unreal or dreamlike.

The lifestyle change I experienced from the last four years to now has been significant.  That likely has something to do with the strangeness of it all.  The last four years have been the university adventure; I was the student still, learning to become a teacher.  Now those roles are reversed and every morning there are young individuals who are waiting (whether they want to or not) to be taught something.  Waiting to learn something, and perhaps to teach something themselves.

I started this blog to recount thoughts and explore my educational endeavours in various ways, and I will now continue it by reflecting on my involvement at my school.

More to come… I’m back at blogging.

Inspiring individualism.

As pre-service teachers, we’re being put through an educational maze to try and figure out where it is that we belong at the end.  Some of us have focus in the sciences, and some of us have focus in geography.  Some of us focus on music & literature while others focus on social issues and physical standards to live by.  Some of us focus on getting out of education as quick as possible, because we have discovered education as a profession is not for us.  Regardless, depending on where you’re at in your program, you may have noticed that inspiration is the Faculty of Education’s forté… right?

A great deal of effort that we students put towards are the ideologies of what makes a great teacher over a good one.  It is in the Faculty’s best interests to push out from this university some of the country’s best teachers, and on that note, we are bombarded by various articles, speakers, and resources alike suggesting education is not just teaching.  It is ohhhhh so much more.

For one thing, you might have heard this: “To become an educator, you must become a life-long learner.”  It is one of this faculty’s mottos, you could say.  In order to educate, you must learn.  You must always be learning.  It is as though you must center the rest of your life around learning.  Learning about what?

Yes, finally, my point.

If you have asked this question to yourself at all, you are not alone.  Although sometimes I feel as though I am.  I believe the answer is simply about myself, about you, about our students.  Learn about yourself.  Learn about what makes you you.  Why is it that you are the way you are?  I am asking myself the same questions.  Not only should you be learning about yourself, you should be learning about your colleagues, and your students.  Learning about why they’re so special too.  We should be encouraging that.  I will wholeheartedly agree that every student is different.  It is more difficult for me to believe that every student is “special.”  If one means special as in unique, then yes, of course.  In that case, every student is special.  But I’m speaking in terms of individualism, and how to inspire individualism in students.  Because I have a very good feeling that not every student knows who they are.  Just as I did not.  Just as I still am not completely sure.  Some people can spend their lifetimes pondering this (hence, life-long learning).  Students take so much from the environment around them to try and build some sense into who they think they are.  Now, I am by no means saying that a student that doesn’t know who she/he is, is not special.  I would simply think that a student who has a better idea about themselves and about who they want to be has a better chance at achieving that.  That is where we come in as teachers.  Bringing out that individualism that students need so they feel like they have a place in the world, just like we all needed before we discovered we wanted to be teachers.

I was inspired by so many of my teachers who were not inspired to inspire me.

Help yourself so you know how to help your students.  I would love to construct an “educational philosophy” about my beliefs and ideals towards teaching, but in all honesty, I’d like to just construct a plain old philosophy about my beliefs and ideals towards life first.   SO, what I’m essentially getting at is, if one is void of inspiration, motivation, and all the like-terms, how does one expect to motivate others to learn, let alone learn about oneself, and truly inspire individualism?