A Student Perspective: Destiny

I was finishing up my draft for my first Advanced Essay of the year. I was feeling anxious and nervous because I didn’t know if what I was doing would meet the criteria of the assignment. I was next in line to meet with Mr. Block, I slowly and unsurely walked up to the front table. I was really nervous. Mr. Block calmed me down by easing me into it,  

“Hey Destiny! How do you feel about your draft? Can you tell me about it?”

“Um, I’m feeling… okay about my essay. It’s about my experiences of not having a father around, and how these certain moments kept reminding me of that.” 

There was this slight moment of pause, as Mr. Block briefly looked through my document. Uncertainty and doubt surrounded me. However, as soon as Mr. Block started talking, I felt reassured. “This is a very powerful moment that you’re writing about. It shows a side of you that most people wouldn’t see.” As soon as he said that, my confidence grew, and I felt reassured that my writing would land with the reader the way I intended. 

Mr. Block continued, “What direction are you thinking of going with this? In what different ways does it feel like this memory matters?” 

“Well, this topic has always affected me; however, I never really got a chance to sit down and process these feelings. Most people just know me as this confident, always happy kind of person. And sometimes they forget I have feelings too. So incorporating these memories allowed me to process how not having a father truly affects me.”

“Destiny, this is really powerful work,” Mr. Block responded. “This paragraph right here,” he points at his computer screen, “I think you can take this out or save it for closer to the end, for the reflection and analysis portion…”

Mr. Block continued with tidbits of advice to elevate my writing to be the best that it could be. “This moment right here, be more specific. How were you feeling? What were you seeing? What was the setting?” And then, “You want the reader to be in the moment with you.” As I walked back to my desk, ready to do more work, I felt inspired to share my story in the most thoughtful way possible. 

Looking back on all the sessions we had, I noticed that these conferences really changed me as a writer. Every time we talked about my writing,  I felt unsure, contemplating whether my ideas were good enough. But when I left those meetings, I came out with a plan to finish my writing in the strongest way possible. The sessions created an environment that pushed me to meet high expectations while still highlighting who I was and what I brought to the table. I would be accountable for producing the best quality of work I could create, because my teacher communicated the potential that I possessed. Mr. Block didn’t just want me to get the assignment done, he wanted me to find my own voice and understand that it mattered. He wanted me to grow as a writer, to be able to tell a story, but through my perspective and understanding of the world. Through his guidance, I began to see that my writing held value because it reflected my identity, culture, and beliefs. In the end, I learned that a truly inclusive classroom is a collaborative space where students’ experiences and perspectives are respected, and where learning becomes a place that challenges me while supporting who I am.

***

Teacher Perspective:

The flow of learning in my classroom always leads to conference days. These class periods are both highly structured and messy. In addition to moving forward with their work-in-progress and giving and receiving peer reviews, these days are when everyone has an individual meeting with me. Sitting with students as they explain their work processes creates an essential opportunity for them to experience the challenge of muddling through ideas and sources as they create work that is original and complex. 

“Today is the day I’ll sit with you to hear about your draft. Remember, the goal is to use your Scenes of Memory and Reflection to develop a larger idea for your essay. The larger idea shouldn’t be something that readers feel like they already know but should be a deeper insight based on your experiences and reflection. By the end of class, you should have met with me, have feedback from two peer reviewers, and a list of your plans for revision at the top of your doc.” 

As the process begins, I’m aware that planning to conference with all 33 students in the class, even over two class periods, means I am embarking on the equivalent of a sporting event. Each meeting requires close, compassionate listening and discernment about the emotional tone and academic information that will be most helpful for that student and their particular stage of writing. I work to provide each student with an opportunity to feel that their work is valued and that I am invested in the quality of their process and product. These brief minutes spent with each student are a chance to affirm their ideas and experiences while also challenging them to create something that goes beyond their own expectations of their abilities. It is a lot to attempt to pack into what amounts to a short huddle.  

“This is a powerful moment that you’re writing about, Madison.” I speak to her from the chair I have pulled up to her table, working to scan through her work on my laptop and then shift my focus to her so that we can have a conversation without staring at devices. “What direction are you thinking of going with this? In what different ways does it feel like this memory matters?”  

The conversation that follows only lasts minutes yet the substance of it determines whether Madison will be committed to the work and if she will feel comfortable and motivated to explore different sides of her identity and beliefs in a product that will be shared with her peers.

These pedagogies both affirm and challenge students when they are situated within a context that offers enough choice that students can feel they are creating something on their terms. Instructors must continually navigate the tension between these feelings and the requirements of an assignment, and be willing to sometimes err on the side of giving students more freedom for the sake of increased engagement. Pedagogy is not accessible and inclusive when it is too rigid to allow for individual expression and unique acts of creation. Classroom experiences repeatedly teach me about the importance of finding ways to meet students where they are by providing opportunities for students to produce work that is a melange of teacher-designed criteria and student-generated ideas and creativity.  

Establishing trusting relationships, tuning in to what individual students need, and creating opportunities for young people to experience the stimulation of authentic intellectual and emotional work helps students envision new forms of academic success. As they become more aware and more situated within a supportive learning environment, they are more willing to take risks. This can mean working harder than they had previously or investing themselves in ways they never had before. This is the feedback loop of successful, democratic education. The instructor, on personal and pedagogical levels offers opportunities for success and validation. The student accepts the struggle of creation as they pursue a high quality product to which they feel a deep connection.