A Natural Teacher

Some people are born teachers, or so I've heard. I am not one of them. I have a soft voice, I have the stage presence of an electric blanket, and my answers to questions usually start at least three levels of abstraction away from the actual conversation. Despite that, and despite what we've all learned about pedagogy from television (professors are tyrannical geniuses -- no, they are inspiring martyrs -- no, they're from outer space!), I persist, and my students manage to muddle through as well.

I have my own methods and convictions when it comes to my own teaching, but in general, I don't believe in any one particular method for teachers, or even especially for language teachers. In teaching as in art, there are countless styles, very few of them new. And no matter how bizarre or tedious or counterintuitive or old-fashioned any particular method may be, there is always someone who realizes in it his or her particular genius. There are professors who crackle with energy and keep students laughing for the whole hour, and their students learn by leaps and bounds; there are others who pace and stare at their shoes, who stand for minutes at a time with a piece of chalk suspended in the air above the blackboard, and their students reach unforseen heights of insight.

The saddest part about contemporary teaching, though, is that we are constantly told that we don't know anything about it and that we have to invent a new system to persuade students to do what every conscious human does every day: learn.

On this blog, I'll stay away from teaching methodologies (note: there are hundreds of places on the internet where you can read about rubrics; this will not be one of them) and steer toward moments that offer me a chance to improve my own thinking. I teach two languages, so my perspectives will come from both of them.

There will be occasional advice for students, and some observations about teaching in general. Please note that not all of this advice is serious. I have no general and univerally applicable wisdom. My students and my classes may not resemble yours at all. However, I hope that by writing, I may at least learn to see what I am doing more clearly. I may not be a natural teacher, but perhaps that won't matter so much if I can learn to improve.