Chalk: The Movie

I would highly recommend the movie Chalk for any and all of those who have ever been involved in the public school system, whether as a teacher, student, or administrator (alright, so basically everybody). Chalk provides a candidly entertaining, yet somewhat disconcerting portrayal of the current state of public education in America. The film could almost pass as a documentary; the characters are so incredibly realistic that audiences may find themselves transported back to their high school Civics or gym classes. Furthermore, the actions and antics of Chalk’s teachers are amusing, even hilarious, though at the same time, it’s extraordinarily simple to imagine that they are actual teachers. They struggle to effectively manage their classrooms, they stumble when lecturing, they say rude comments to their colleagues, they tell students to stop using such “big words” in class, they complain about students and about their heavy workloads, and they are constantly stressed and fatigued.

Sometimes, watching these often clueless teachers is funny; sometimes, it is also disturbing. As I’m watching, I repeatedly find myself thinking, ‘that was wrong.’ Mr. So-and-So should never have said that to his class. Or Coach What’s-Her-Name really should be more careful with how she relates to her fellow teachers. However, I have not been able to invent any immediate solutions for these problems. If I were in the place of any of the teachers in Chalk, I might have had just as difficult of a time controlling the loud, rowdy classroom of unresponsive tenth graders. Unfortunately, these out-of-control classes occur with remarkable frequency. In fact, I’d guess that most or all students my age have experienced similar situations – wherein one’s teacher is unable to command the classroom – somewhere along the line in their educational experience.

So indeed, Chalk is an uncomfortably accurate depiction of schools today. Once in awhile, however, it also expresses small smidgens of hope and optimism for the future of education. For example, my Ed. Psych. class discussed one of Chalk’s characters: the ineffective social studies teacher who lacks the ability to restrain his wild class. He visits the library to research methods of “classroom management” because he recognizes his own shortcomings in this important area of teaching. Similarly, the overly-assertive gym teacher seems to realize she often comes off as aggressive. In self-reflection, she asks her close friend if she is too “pushy.” In these small steps, it is apparent the two teachers have the desire to change and truly enrich their “teaching skills.” The fact that they acknowledge their weaknesses and indicate an aspiration to improve seems, at least to me, to be the real message of the film.

In any case, regardless of the real purpose of the movie, Chalk is undeniably funny, and I would definitely recommend watching it.

MOTIVATION

This week’s topic in Educational Psychology centers around the concept of motivation and how it relates to teaching and learning. What motivates those of us who want to teach has been something we’ve already discussed extensively this semester. Clearly, we, meaning my fellow education major/minors and myself, are all passionate about learning and about our specific subject area. We also love working with people, particularly kids. Our motivation is not really the issue that needs addressing. Rather, we need to learn how to motivate our future students.

In trying to understand how I will possibly motivate my own students someday, I’ve been reflecting upon what exactly has served as motivation for me in the past. It’s hard to admit, but I’ve found that many previous goals and motivating factors in my life have been, well, not so positive. In our textbook’s chapter about motivation, the distinction is made between mastery goals and performance goals. Mastery goals refer to a more intrinsic motivation - the desire to complete a task, improve abilities, and learn, despite “awkward appearances” or initial failure. Performance goals, on the other hand, are more along the lines of extrinsic motivation; these goals are driven by the need to be recognized by others or to receive some sort of reward. Of course, we all want our students, and ourselves, to be motivated intrinsically and to aim for mastery goals; it seems more noble and dignified, less egotistical or narcissistic. Furthermore, our textbook explains that students who set mastery goals actually utilize better cognitive strategies, ask for help when needed, have stronger study skills, and are more confident in handling academic tasks. So I’d like to say that the majority of the decisions I made and accomplishments I attained throughout my years in school were entirely due to “mastery goals,” inspired by intrinsic motivation. However, I will be honest and say that performance goals in fact played a large role in influencing my actions and behaviors as well.

I was a straight-A student throughout middle and high school, a trait that has remained true in my collegiate career as well. But I wonder if these high grades were the only factors that influenced my study habits and work ethic. Was it the aspiration to receive a perfect score that compelled me to study for hours and hours before each and every Spanish test? Did I complete all those extra-credit projects for Chemistry only because I needed to secure an A? Do I still stay up until the early hours of the morning revising my research papers for Music History because I wouldn’t be able to handle earning a B, a grade deemed only “above average”? In truth, the answer is a bit complicated. Although I admit (somewhat shamefully) that percentages, test scores, and grades have played an influential role in motivating me to excel in my school work, there are other factors as well. First and foremost, I sincerely enjoy learning, which allows me to approach most school work with less anxiety or dread than most. Also, school, especially the subjects of English, social studies, and music, have always been fairly easy for me. This relates to the idea of self-efficacy: because I believe I can succeed, and/or finish whichever task it may be, I tend to have higher levels of motivation (and also persistence). What concerns me, however, is the fact that in my classroom someday, I will not be faced with teaching 25 miniature Haleys, who are either motivated extrinsically by grades, or intrinsically by personal yearning for learning (cute - that rhymes!), or by some combination of both. Simply put, in order to effectively and positively motivate my students, I might have to teach them how to enjoy learning. Easier said than done! Still, motivation is not a skill like adding fractions or playing the recorder. To me, it seems unquantifiable, and motivation will certainly differ from child to child. I know I should make lessons appealing to students and relevant to their lives; I also need to show them I value them and genuinely care. Yet currently, I still remain somewhat worried about my own abilities as a motivator.

Well this quite long already (again!) and so I think I will wait to further address my concerns about motivation sometime in the future. Perhaps I will just have to rely on my undeniable charm and charisma to motivate my students…ok, I’m kidding. In all seriousness, however, I am quite glad I have a few years of college left to figure out how to create an inspirational classroom environment and how to truly motivate students to learn.

Children of Darkness and Light

This week I attended a lecture titled, “Islam and Christian Muslim Dialogue: Theological and Political Challenge and Opportunity“ given by Dr. Charles Ahjad-Ali, Martin Luther King Jr. Professor at Luther Seminary. Sounds like pretty heavy stuff, huh? That’s what I was thinking when I heard the lecture’s title and when I learned Dr. Charles Ahjad-Ali’s title, too. It may seem strange that I chose to attend this lecture as part of the requirement for this Educational Psychology class. After all, the realms of religion and politics are viewed as dangerous, controversial areas that do not belong in public education. As it turned out, this rather informal lecture was less political and more theological/historical, and in all honesty, not at all related to education or educational psychology. Still, I was struck by a few of the main ideas Dr. Ahjad-Ali mentioned, and in reflecting further upon them, I think I might have found a few important connections to education psychology.

Dr. Ahjad-Ali’s lecture focused on the intimate yet volatile relationship between Christianity and Islam, and the central question that seemed to shape most of his lecture was “How do we live together as Muslims and Christians?” He made the point that in general, the Christian perception of Islam is an “us against them” mentality, or the idea that “if you’re not with us, you’re against us.” He also defined this frame of mind in another way; he stated that some Christians seem to think: “we are children of the light, while they are children of darkness” [‘they’ meaning Muslims and other non-Christians]. This poignantly expressed idea especially caught my attention as something potentially applicable to education. I think it can be incredibly easy at times for teachers to let their own biases or personal prejudices into the classroom. I’d like to think this never occurs on purpose, and in reality, I’m sure most incidences of intolerance or partiality on the part of the teacher are accidental. Nevertheless, the idea of “us” versus “them” does exist in the world of education. There are defined roles and groups in the classroom, all juxtaposed against one another: the teacher versus the students, the brainiac versus the learning disabled, the economically advantaged versus the disadvantaged, the class-clown versus the social outcast, and the list continues. As a teacher, I believe it must be difficult at times to avoid classifying or pigeonholing students, or even dismissing them altogether as not worth the extra effort. Once children have been labeled as naughty, misbehavers, or as bad kids, it becomes even more problematic and challenging to truly reach them. It is these perceived “children of darkness,” the children who have been branded as outsiders, who really need a teacher to struggle with and for them, to actually care and value them as students and as people. Ideally, boundaries between students in the classroom, as dictated by physical appearance, mental ability, cultural background, religious preference, or socio-economic status, do not exist; there is no “us versus them” or “children of light” as opposed to “children of darkness.” Indeed, in this ideal setting, both students and teachers refuse to categorize one another and instead, work to sincerely understand and appreciate the ideas, efforts, and contributions of all.

Well, there is so much more I could say on the above topic. However, this entry is long enough already, so I’ll try to use the words of Dr. Ahjad-Ali to summarize what I’ve been thinking. The following is a core component to Dr. Ahjad-Ali’s personal philosophy: “We cannot be passive in the face of injustice.” What a profound concept. I feel strongly that this belief can and should be applied by teachers everywhere to ensure that their classrooms are safe, thriving environments where all children can reach their full potential.