1. I make a distinction between ‘freedom to’ and ‘freedom from’, and suggest that being clear about this distinction makes a difference in our teaching. What do you think about this? Can you imagine a situation in your own classroom where this might become a crucial distinction to be making, for yourself and/or for your students? Have you had any experiences yourself where this has been an important distinction?
The distinction between ‘freedom to’ and ‘freedom from’ raises some interesting issues in my mind, from the point of view of both the alternative school that revolted against him and schooling in general. So what is freedom? What role does it, or should it, play in schooling? Generally, it is thought of as allowing one the choice to undertake whatever activity they choose, or the prerogative to not partake in any activities at all. At this alternative school, it appears that the role of freedom in schooling had been convoluted over time, and the students did not respond well to the new version of it. They may not have had the ability to articulate what exactly freedom meant to their schooling experience, but they were unfamiliar enough with this new approach to be hostile towards it. Unfamiliarity often equates to uneasiness in practice, albeit, this does not have to be the case. It is almost ironic that the very nature of an abstract concept such as freedom could elicit such hostility, despite the ‘alternative’ mentality accompanying it.
Allowing students the freedom to choose which research question they address, which partner they collaborate with, which plant species to study, the percentage weighting of each assessment item, whether to assign grades to practice exams etc provides some control over their schooling experience. Allowing for student control and creative responsibility can be advantageous in fostering cooperation and motivation towards their studies, and is encouraged in many of the texts I have encountered. Ownership of curriculum and school work will assist in the development of responsibility towards it, creating responsible and motivated students. The aforementioned examples fall into the category of ‘freedom to’ in the sense that they have the freedom to choose according to their specific desires. They do not, however, have the freedom from completing school work at all, as their freedom extends only to which option they choose, not whether to participate at all. I believe thisTransition class understood their freedom to mean they had no obligation to participate in, or even attend, school, and thus they had ‘freedom from’ those responsibilities. Albeit, the new approach relied on the ‘freedom to’ aspect of this issue, and thus the students were receiving messages that conflicted with their understanding of their schooling.
In Tanzania, life is much more flexible than it is in the West, and one is never ‘late’, only ‘delayed’. They even have their own method of time-keeping, which does not adhere to our familiar ‘Mzungu Time’ (white person time), rather everything is run on ‘TFT’, or Tanzanian Flexible Time. As the name would imply this provides a lot of ‘wiggle room’ for tardiness. The students in the preschool at which I was working understood that they attended school each weekday, but not necessarily the reason they were there (and being aged only three-six this is quite understandable!) Most lessons would climax in a point of helplessness and desperation when the children, who really only wanted to play, started to run amok and not respond to my pleas for quiet. I would be rescued by the head teacher each time, but felt terrible as I watched the children being scolded for my inability to control them (I dislike the fact that I wanted or need control over them, but it is very, very difficult to implement non-interventionist methods in a classroom of four-year-olds who do not speak your language…) They assumed they had the freedom to do, well, whatever they pleased, and did not feel the onus involved in the ‘freedom to’ choose which writing tasks to complete. Admittedly this situation is not analogous to that of the Transition Class in many aspects, and very young children necessitate a different approach to freedom teaching in any case, but I did find this clashing of methods resonating with me somewhat.
2. I finish Part 1 by describing how things slowly changed, and imply that it was because I stuck to my guns and didn’t compromise. Did my explanation sound convincing? In Part Two I suggest that maybe there was more involved. What other explanations for the turnaround can you see, even before viewing Part Two?
Unfortunately my internet has been the most temperamental of mistresses this past week and did not allow me download the very end of this video – despite my lurking at the McDonald’s down the road to access their WiFi! – so I will have to base my answer on the situation summation that I was able to watch.
I believe that this divide in approach to the freedom in schooling had manifested itself in the parent body as well as the student body. The vocal minority described in the video seemed to be yearning for a change to the ‘freedom to’ ideal, and were grateful that it had been introduced. Albeit, the other parents were content with the status quo, and wished the ‘freedom from’ model would remain in place unchallenged. If these parents could be made to see that it was of some value to at least trial this shift in schooling approach then a resolution as described could potentially be reached. If the parents are on-board with a decision it can then be much simpler to convince the students of such. It may be, also, that the opposite transpired, as the students began to see the purpose of the ‘freedom to’ approach, and eventually begin to engage with it. Sometimes exposure to an idea will be enough to sew seeds of understanding and with this may also come an appreciation of its purpose.
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1. In Part 2 I suggest that there are three further ideas that help teachers understand some of the dynamics of classroom management: a natural resistance to change, the flight-fight instinct, and the mother-teacher’s need to survive. Do any of these ideas illuminate experiences that you have had? Have you seen any of these processes evident in our own unit, during our first month?
Despite its being founded in an obscure premise, I understand the relevance of the mother-teacher survival concept in a classroom context. Students will not respect a teacher until they are given a reason to do so, and from hearing prac experience stories I would suggest that a pre-service teacher is continuously ‘tested’ by a class, possibly for the whole duration of the experience. It is imperative that the teacher shows no ‘sign of weakness’, if you will, in that they must be stoic in their purpose and legitimacy as a teacher or the students will not engage with them; not to mention the fact that the relationship that has developed with their actual teacher may overshadow a lot of the initial pre-service work a teacher will attempt. Using Donald Winnicott’s theory as a lens for analysis of this situation enables one to see that this ‘testing’ is a form of ‘attack’, and the teacher’s response to this will inform the student-teacher relationship from that point forward. The teacher is not useful to the students if they cannot withstand this attack, and the students are fully aware of this fact.
2. What articles are you finding in e-Reserve that are helping you to understand more about classroom dynamics and how to work with these? [For those of you with access to the Ning, here’s an excellent example by Claire of how you might like to write about one of these articles.]
I have read too many different strategies and styles to comment on in this post unfortunately – my SES endeavours over the past week have impacted on my ability to read and process these articles, and thus I will talk more on this point at a later date!
3. Towards the end of Part 2, the image of a shoot sprouting from a burnt tree appears on the screen. [This was taken after the Victorian bushfires a few years ago.] Did the image seem appropriate to the subject matter? Did it speak to you?
The image of the shooting tree imbues a sense of rebirth after destruction, presenting the potential that is contained within the mere beginnings of a seed. In my mind this sort of image always creates a sense of ‘from little things, big things grow’, and I suppose the same could be said for teaching. In applying this image to the Student Revolt scenario, the following scene came to my mind:
The flames ignite as if of their own accord, licking the perimeter with ferocity and destructive purpose. The menacing intent is evident in the leering tendrils of flame; creeping forward, never conceding, circling ever inward. The scorching heat engulfs all in its path. The strength and resolve are the first to be turned to ash, the dust of being cast aside without regard. The essence itself is the last to be targeted; the annihilation an excruciating battle of wills, eventually lost. When at last the flames are doused and the charred remains paint a picture of desolation, a tiny, tiny shoot appears. Its vibrancy shines out amongst the blackened landscape, and slowly, but surely, it grows and blossoms into a glorious tree. This humblest of beginnings leads to the formation of a foundation, as strong as the resolve on which it grows, cemented forever in this changing landscape. Taking root with stoic intent, the tree proves once more that from small beginnings, very big things can grow.
The students’ attack on the teacher may test every essence of their resolve – even leading them to question their decision to become a teacher – but through the desolation of conflict and flame can come a renewed sense of fulfillment and joy; life can be born out of disaster.
4. Here are some of Donald Winnicott’s own words, when describing how crucial it is for the baby (student) that the mother (teacher) to be able to survive attacks:
The subject says to the object: ‘I destroyed you’, and the object is there to receive the communication. From now on the subject says: ‘Hello object!’ ‘I destroyed you.’ ‘I love you.’ ‘You have value for me because of your survival of my destruction of you.’ ‘While I am loving you I am all the time destroying you in (unconscious) fantasy.’… The subject can now use the object that has survived. It is important to note that it is not only that the subject destroys the object because the object is placed outside the area of omnipotent control. It is equally significant to state this the other way round and to say that it is the destruction of the object that places the object outside the area of the subject’s omnipotent control. In these ways the object develops its own autonomy and life, and (if it survives) contributes-in to the subject according to its own properties. [Winnicott (1971). Playing and reality. London, Tavistock. p91]
I’ll be saying some more about this strange but very useful idea in a subsequent lecture. What thoughts, memories or responses do Winnicott’s words evoke in you?
One can only truly rely on someone or something when adequate evidence has been provided for its ability to provide said support. Blind faith is generally not accepted to be valid enough reasoning to put faith in something, but personal questioning, testing and investigation can lead to such a conclusion. By attacking a person, one is able to gauge their ability to withstand the onslaught and ‘succeed’; this success, then substantiated, can be tapped into by the tester and used to their benefit. I find this concept difficult to translate to the mentality of an infant in relation to its mother, but can see this application as legitimate from an abstract point of view. I am anticipating another layer of understanding being added by further exploration of this concept in lectures!
– For Science!
Synergistic Bonding in the Classroom! 