Teaching Reflections
January 2015 - May 2015
When I had anticipated what my final semester of graduate school was going to be like, I imagined flurries of paper and scrambling to meet deadlines. I pictured commuting from work to school and from school to work in a frenzy; books and materials strewn across my backseat, coffee in hand. And although in reality this image was not too far off, what I had not expected was the passion that met me at every standstill, every crossroad, and every “aha” moment. For every difficult moment where I felt defeated, there were many more moments of significant personal growth and joy.
I learned three life lessons this semester that have shaped my teaching philosophy and also my outlook on the world. The first, and most painful, lesson was the art of balance. From the moment I began these final four months, I felt myself being endlessly pulled in dozens of different directions. When I was teaching I was worried about my school work, when I was doing school work I was worried about my research, and when I was designing my research I was worried about my teaching. It was a cyclical relationship that was unrelenting. It took actually conducted my research until I began to see how everything I was doing was connected. Everything I was doing I was doing for a reason. Everything I was doing I was passionate about. My schoolwork was contributing to my teaching, my teaching was contributing to my research, and my research was contributing to my schoolwork. Without one, the rest would not be as meaningful or as successful. Although being able to balance school requirements, work obligations, research deadlines, and a personal life is a process that I am still learning how to do, remembering that there is a reason behind every action helps me get better at it each day.
The second life lesson that I learned over the last four months was the ability to acknowledge when I need help, and ask for it. At the beginning of the semester I felt happily independent, I knew what I was going to research, I had my own classroom as my practicum site, and graduation was quickly approaching. However, as time progressed, my confidence started to wane. I have always been a firm believer that the more you learn; the more you come to understand how little you actually know. While I usually view this as a positive sentiment, the realization of how little I actually knew about research became overwhelming and paralyzing. There were times where I would stare at my data, willing it to explain to me how all of it fit together. I wasted valuable time trying to figure out answers on my own when I had help all around me. The realization dawned on me when I was trying to explain my research to a friend and I was asked a question to which I responded with, “I don’t know”. My friend looked at me and said, “Okay”. And I thought, is not knowing okay? Am I not supposed to have all the answers? That week I scheduled meetings with my research chair, a professor, and a coworker to ask for their advice. Since then, I have become more comfortable with asking others for advice, and more aware of when I need to. I now understand that everyone can teach you something, but sometimes you need to ask first.
The third, and most important, life lesson that I am taking away from this semester is the importance of persistent passion in what you do. This was eloquently stated by Steve Jobs when he said, “Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven’t found it yet, keep looking. Don’t settle. As with all matters of the heart, you’ll know when you find it.” I mentioned in the beginning of my reflection that I found passion around every corner over the last four months. Even if I was unable to recognize it as passion (surprisingly, 2AM research analysis with work in the morning can be disguised as exasperation) it was there. I found passion in my coworkers who asked me how my research was going and were genuinely interested, it was in my peers who supported me unfailingly through every assignment and every project, it was in my parents who somehow knew that it would all be alright and reiterated this to me constantly, it was in my friends who respected when I needed to be alone and diligently listened to me when I needed people to talk to, and it was in my amazing students who reminded me that the reason I was doing all of this was because I love what I do and I want to do great work with what I love.
Although I am writing this reflection using the word “I”, I should be writing it using “we”. The support system that I had over the last four months was extraordinary. Every time I felt alone and up against a wall, all I had to do was look next to me and there was someone waiting to help in unique and unexpected ways. My parents, professors, peers, coworkers, friends, and students were the glue that held me together as I began to learn how to balance being at teacher, a student, and a researcher for the first time. It was truly the energy and optimism of each individual that kept me going. I will be forever grateful for the support system I had without even having to ask.
So, were there moments over the last few months where through the deadlines, piles of papers, and lesson plans I lost sight of what I was doing? Yes. But there were also more moments of clarity when I was able to recognize the value in the experiences I was having and understand that I was gaining powerful life lessons through every mishap, struggle, and success that came my way.
I learned three life lessons this semester that have shaped my teaching philosophy and also my outlook on the world. The first, and most painful, lesson was the art of balance. From the moment I began these final four months, I felt myself being endlessly pulled in dozens of different directions. When I was teaching I was worried about my school work, when I was doing school work I was worried about my research, and when I was designing my research I was worried about my teaching. It was a cyclical relationship that was unrelenting. It took actually conducted my research until I began to see how everything I was doing was connected. Everything I was doing I was doing for a reason. Everything I was doing I was passionate about. My schoolwork was contributing to my teaching, my teaching was contributing to my research, and my research was contributing to my schoolwork. Without one, the rest would not be as meaningful or as successful. Although being able to balance school requirements, work obligations, research deadlines, and a personal life is a process that I am still learning how to do, remembering that there is a reason behind every action helps me get better at it each day.
The second life lesson that I learned over the last four months was the ability to acknowledge when I need help, and ask for it. At the beginning of the semester I felt happily independent, I knew what I was going to research, I had my own classroom as my practicum site, and graduation was quickly approaching. However, as time progressed, my confidence started to wane. I have always been a firm believer that the more you learn; the more you come to understand how little you actually know. While I usually view this as a positive sentiment, the realization of how little I actually knew about research became overwhelming and paralyzing. There were times where I would stare at my data, willing it to explain to me how all of it fit together. I wasted valuable time trying to figure out answers on my own when I had help all around me. The realization dawned on me when I was trying to explain my research to a friend and I was asked a question to which I responded with, “I don’t know”. My friend looked at me and said, “Okay”. And I thought, is not knowing okay? Am I not supposed to have all the answers? That week I scheduled meetings with my research chair, a professor, and a coworker to ask for their advice. Since then, I have become more comfortable with asking others for advice, and more aware of when I need to. I now understand that everyone can teach you something, but sometimes you need to ask first.
The third, and most important, life lesson that I am taking away from this semester is the importance of persistent passion in what you do. This was eloquently stated by Steve Jobs when he said, “Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven’t found it yet, keep looking. Don’t settle. As with all matters of the heart, you’ll know when you find it.” I mentioned in the beginning of my reflection that I found passion around every corner over the last four months. Even if I was unable to recognize it as passion (surprisingly, 2AM research analysis with work in the morning can be disguised as exasperation) it was there. I found passion in my coworkers who asked me how my research was going and were genuinely interested, it was in my peers who supported me unfailingly through every assignment and every project, it was in my parents who somehow knew that it would all be alright and reiterated this to me constantly, it was in my friends who respected when I needed to be alone and diligently listened to me when I needed people to talk to, and it was in my amazing students who reminded me that the reason I was doing all of this was because I love what I do and I want to do great work with what I love.
Although I am writing this reflection using the word “I”, I should be writing it using “we”. The support system that I had over the last four months was extraordinary. Every time I felt alone and up against a wall, all I had to do was look next to me and there was someone waiting to help in unique and unexpected ways. My parents, professors, peers, coworkers, friends, and students were the glue that held me together as I began to learn how to balance being at teacher, a student, and a researcher for the first time. It was truly the energy and optimism of each individual that kept me going. I will be forever grateful for the support system I had without even having to ask.
So, were there moments over the last few months where through the deadlines, piles of papers, and lesson plans I lost sight of what I was doing? Yes. But there were also more moments of clarity when I was able to recognize the value in the experiences I was having and understand that I was gaining powerful life lessons through every mishap, struggle, and success that came my way.