I'm finishing up a flurry of administration details still, which is a pain, but I'm enjoying the start of research, which is decidedly not a pain. I've been tackling Judith Bell's Doing Your Research Project and am about halfway through. It's a great read.
I've also been starting to let thoughts percolate about my project in general. I've known since I started module one what direction I wanted to take it in generally, but I do mean generally. I want to do something with dancers learning how to think, collaborate, and take responsibility for their own learning--so in the vein of how does one teach dancers to think? What does that mean? What is the value of it?
One of the papers that I did for my graduate pedagogy class several years back was about the authority structures in the classroom and the differences between ballet (authoritarian, usually) and modern (more collaborative) class atmospheres. It was absolutely fascinating research, and ever since then I've had it on my radar as something I want to look into more, as one of my key goals as a teacher is teaching my students how to think and evaluate their own technique and artistry and learn how to grow themselves forward.
Currently the first problem I'm running into that all the ballet lessons I'm teaching right now are private lessons and my modern class is the group class. So if I wanted to do any kind of research on ballet classrooms, my sample size is really too small. That means hunting for more classes to teach next year, a time-consuming process, but one that is going to affect which way I can take my research.
How is everyone else's week going? For module twos, what thoughts are beginning to percolate about your project? And for module ones and threes, how is the start of the module going? I'd also love to chat about teaching thinking skills in the classroom, so by all means comment on that too!
Thursday, February 22, 2018
Thursday, February 15, 2018
Hello, Module 2!
As of Monday, we're officially in the new term, which means starting Module 2 for me. I'm taking this first week to pour over the handbooks and orient myself into the semester as a whole. From my first glance through the handbook, I'm getting very excited. When I did three semesters towards my MFA a few years back, one of my favorite courses was called Research and Writing for Dance. It was one of the courses that has been most useful for me long-term. This module sounds very much in the same vein--looking at philosophical frameworks, orienting ourselves in current and historical research, ways of researching and ethics thereof, etc. My old textbook is even on the recommended reading list! So it's very exciting to have the opportunity to dive into all this material again, hopefully on a much different and hopefully deeper way now that I'm further into my professional practice than I was then.
One of my priorities for this module is fully participating in the MAPP communities--blogs, LinkedIn, skypes, etc. I feel like I still have barely scratched the surface of communication with my classmates. Last module I was hoping to get a slack group going, which Adesola kindly created, but I'd like to see that become active and useful to us.
In the skype this past weekend I discussed attempting to find a more efficient way to interact with others' blogs. There's a lot of us, and so a lot of blogs to keep up with. It's not feasible to check out each blog every week, but if I even tackle a third (a third! so that's what, a dozen blogs?) each week, then I still only interact with each person/blog four times this entire module. Hm. Last semester I managed tackling 4-6 blogs each week, in part because not everyone was posting something every week, so it meant only 2-3 substantial responses. I'm trying to imagine more than doubling that. It's a daunting prospect, but I'd really like to be as active as I can. We'll see how that plays out though as the semester heats up. ;)
I'm going to keep chewing through this and investigating some technology options (like, is there a way to set up automatic notifications of new blog posts? That would save the time of checking but even more so ensure that things don't slip through the cracks) to see if there are things that would help. Perhaps something I find might even be applicable to the group as a whole and make things easier for others too.
When I reread this, I'm afraid my enthusiasm is leaping off the page... well, guilty as charged. I can't wait to get started on the module and get to know those of you I haven't yet interacted with much, and get to know those of you I have interacted with better.
Friday, December 29, 2017
Goodbye, Module 1!
Whew! I just turned in everything and that's the end of module 1. It's hard to believe the first semester of grad school is a wrap already! How is everyone else faring? Looking forward to module 2, and best of luck to everyone else getting their submissions in!
Monday, December 4, 2017
Considering All Students
Jane brought up something in our skype session yesterday that made me think about my own teaching practices. She was talking about how we shouldn't prejudge our students based on what we think they can or can't eventually do or pigeonhole them into a "lane" of ability. I totally agree, having been pigeonholed like that. It's hurtful and often winds up being inaccurate.
Now as a teacher, I find I really don't know how to do that anyway. It would feel very odd to me to treat my students based on their perceived level. Of course, that's not to say that my students are all at the same level--far, far from it. But I push all of my students to try for their best, regardless of what that may be. I'm not omniscient and have no idea what they'll eventually wind up doing with dance. Regardless, it's not my job to figure that out. It's my job to teach them as best I can, and in my opinion, to do any less is to neglect my job.
There are no guarantees with students. I had a very sharp, talented, and hard-working young student quit at the end of last season, because she wanted a break from dance. It was a huge pity (hopefully someday she'll return!), because to my eye, she could really do something with it if she wants to. I have other students who are less "talented" or have less physical capability, and yet they work very hard and their improvement reflects that. Some students take to one style more quickly than another, or find their stride later in age than their peers. I was one such student.
Ultimately, I try to assume that each student is capable of doing the movement correctly, perhaps with some modifications for less turnout or flexibility or whatnot. I very, very much hope that my students know that I'll always be their biggest fan. It is also my hope that if my students don't think they can do it, they'll catch a bit of faith from me and learn that they can, in fact, do the thing, and do it well. I think that's half my job anyway, right? Not just teaching them how to dance, but teaching them how to gain confidence, courage, and curiosity in dance and life.
Now as a teacher, I find I really don't know how to do that anyway. It would feel very odd to me to treat my students based on their perceived level. Of course, that's not to say that my students are all at the same level--far, far from it. But I push all of my students to try for their best, regardless of what that may be. I'm not omniscient and have no idea what they'll eventually wind up doing with dance. Regardless, it's not my job to figure that out. It's my job to teach them as best I can, and in my opinion, to do any less is to neglect my job.
There are no guarantees with students. I had a very sharp, talented, and hard-working young student quit at the end of last season, because she wanted a break from dance. It was a huge pity (hopefully someday she'll return!), because to my eye, she could really do something with it if she wants to. I have other students who are less "talented" or have less physical capability, and yet they work very hard and their improvement reflects that. Some students take to one style more quickly than another, or find their stride later in age than their peers. I was one such student.
Ultimately, I try to assume that each student is capable of doing the movement correctly, perhaps with some modifications for less turnout or flexibility or whatnot. I very, very much hope that my students know that I'll always be their biggest fan. It is also my hope that if my students don't think they can do it, they'll catch a bit of faith from me and learn that they can, in fact, do the thing, and do it well. I think that's half my job anyway, right? Not just teaching them how to dance, but teaching them how to gain confidence, courage, and curiosity in dance and life.
Monday, November 27, 2017
Harvard Citation Suggestions?
I've gotten a bit swept away between writing papers and Thanksgiving for the last few weeks, but hoping to get back to blogging regularly soon. For those of you in modules 2 and 3, what resources did you find for referencing in Harvard style? I'm having a hard time finding resources, and clearly I found ones that weren't accurate, because I got feedback about checking my bibliography. All the sources I'm finding online are contradictory to both each other and to the feedback so any suggestions are greatly appreciated.
Monday, November 6, 2017
Warning: Transition in Process
Yesterday we had our monthly skype call, and Maité offered some excellent advice--think of the AOLs as a transition to module two, she said. They're just a jumping off point. Adesola had a great analogy too, saying that the AOLs are our bridge from work to academia, and the module three artifact is our bridge from academia back to work. Then some questions about module three and the process of research made me think about transitions and processes in general.
My title above is tongue-in-cheek, but in earnest also. Lately, I've noticed myself apologizing a lot for being mid-process in life and work, as if perfection is something not only attainable but realistically attainable in the near future. Obviously it isn't! At the risk of sounding cliche, I'm trying to drum into my head that there's nothing in life that isn't a process. The AOLs lead to module two's big questions which lead to module three's specific questions which lead to different kinds of questions which lead to other areas of research ten years down the road... it doesn't stop. If I wait to be satisfied until my process is done, well, that's just never going to happen, and that's okay.
Example--when I was a senior in undergrad, I did a large senior performance project that turned out rather disappointingly. In some ways it went well; I got great feedback from the audience, a good grade, and of course I learned a lot about both my research subject and myself. In other ways, it didn't go so well. But when I finished it, I didn't really feel done. I felt like I had just completed the very beginning of a long journey and that someday I might revisit it, even though the basic conclusion of my research investigation was that the investigated thing was something that didn't work for me at ALL.
Fast forward five years later... and that thing? It's suddenly reappearing in my life! In fact, I'm finding it to be immensely helpful, which frankly I find weird, but whatever, it happens. I find it immensely satisfying as well as darkly amusing that a thing I hated so much and was so convinced would never work for me is suddenly something that is giving me a great deal of joy.
It's the same with our module questions. Instead of thinking of them all as research projects with a defined end and goal, it might be better to think of them as jumping off points, during which we bite off a tiny amount, chew it, turn it in, and then keep coming back to it over our lives. Research and life aren't ever really done, right?
My title above is tongue-in-cheek, but in earnest also. Lately, I've noticed myself apologizing a lot for being mid-process in life and work, as if perfection is something not only attainable but realistically attainable in the near future. Obviously it isn't! At the risk of sounding cliche, I'm trying to drum into my head that there's nothing in life that isn't a process. The AOLs lead to module two's big questions which lead to module three's specific questions which lead to different kinds of questions which lead to other areas of research ten years down the road... it doesn't stop. If I wait to be satisfied until my process is done, well, that's just never going to happen, and that's okay.
Example--when I was a senior in undergrad, I did a large senior performance project that turned out rather disappointingly. In some ways it went well; I got great feedback from the audience, a good grade, and of course I learned a lot about both my research subject and myself. In other ways, it didn't go so well. But when I finished it, I didn't really feel done. I felt like I had just completed the very beginning of a long journey and that someday I might revisit it, even though the basic conclusion of my research investigation was that the investigated thing was something that didn't work for me at ALL.
Fast forward five years later... and that thing? It's suddenly reappearing in my life! In fact, I'm finding it to be immensely helpful, which frankly I find weird, but whatever, it happens. I find it immensely satisfying as well as darkly amusing that a thing I hated so much and was so convinced would never work for me is suddenly something that is giving me a great deal of joy.
It's the same with our module questions. Instead of thinking of them all as research projects with a defined end and goal, it might be better to think of them as jumping off points, during which we bite off a tiny amount, chew it, turn it in, and then keep coming back to it over our lives. Research and life aren't ever really done, right?
Saturday, November 4, 2017
Teaching as Performance Art
I was writing in my journal today and wondering how people manage to teach full-time, because it is such an output of energy. I was also thinking about how uncomfortable having parents and other teachers around during class makes me, and that got me thinking about teaching as a kind of performance art. Recently, I read an internet comment from a non-dance teacher who said that she's not necessarily the same person outside of class as in, that she puts on her teacher persona and then takes it off when she leaves class. And yeah, I do that too.
Some of it is necessity. As a somewhat shy introvert who hates to be in the spotlight (well, figuratively--literal spotlights are just fine), I need to portray a calm, confident, professional front in class and be willing to speak. That is, after all, what I'm being paid for--to speak up and fix things that are going wrong.
But it's tiring, and sometimes I come in feeling rather quiet and without my "teacher face" on. The students' energy in those classes tends to be lower, which leaves me wondering, to what extent can a teacher be real with their students? Obviously, some things are not appropriate--they're students, not confidantes, professionalism is key.
Sometimes being honest feels warranted, though; perhaps an older student asks how you are after a tough week, and you say, "Well, it's been a rough week, TGIF!" or something along those lines. They're students, not dolls, and warm relationships sometimes develop. Not to mention that it's good for students to see that adults are people too, that they struggle with things, and that no one has it all together.
It also leaves me wondering about the effectiveness of various personality styles in the classroom. I'm sure we all know at least one person who's so charismatic they capture the room's attention without even trying. Some of us are just not like that though, and is it necessary to become like that? Sometimes, I think so, but always? Hm...
I'm very curious--fellow teachers, to what extent do you put on your teacher face before classes, and what kinds of situations do you take it off? And more importantly, do you feel you need one, and why?
Some of it is necessity. As a somewhat shy introvert who hates to be in the spotlight (well, figuratively--literal spotlights are just fine), I need to portray a calm, confident, professional front in class and be willing to speak. That is, after all, what I'm being paid for--to speak up and fix things that are going wrong.
But it's tiring, and sometimes I come in feeling rather quiet and without my "teacher face" on. The students' energy in those classes tends to be lower, which leaves me wondering, to what extent can a teacher be real with their students? Obviously, some things are not appropriate--they're students, not confidantes, professionalism is key.
Sometimes being honest feels warranted, though; perhaps an older student asks how you are after a tough week, and you say, "Well, it's been a rough week, TGIF!" or something along those lines. They're students, not dolls, and warm relationships sometimes develop. Not to mention that it's good for students to see that adults are people too, that they struggle with things, and that no one has it all together.
It also leaves me wondering about the effectiveness of various personality styles in the classroom. I'm sure we all know at least one person who's so charismatic they capture the room's attention without even trying. Some of us are just not like that though, and is it necessary to become like that? Sometimes, I think so, but always? Hm...
I'm very curious--fellow teachers, to what extent do you put on your teacher face before classes, and what kinds of situations do you take it off? And more importantly, do you feel you need one, and why?
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