Many former teachers like me think about how they would have done if the pandemic had come earlier than it did. Would we have adjusted to virtual learning even though it is the antithesis of what we believe is necessary to educate a person. Many of us made the lively face-to-face discussion a regular part of our classrooms. To continue in a virtual world, with 1/3 of our students missing every day would surely have been difficult. If nothing else, the pandemic has shown us that students need daily interaction with people in person to thrive.
In thinking back over my career, I marvel at the technological changes that have occurred within the last 50 years. Most notably the impact of computers and the availability of audiovisual materials. I vividly recall how difficult it sometimes was to show a film or play a piece of music for students. Not so much physically doing it, but rather getting it. Today, a teacher can go to Youtube or their favorite music site and find almost anything in a matter of minutes. Before the year 2000, it was not so easy. In fact, there was an audio-visual skills test that new teachers were required to pass before obtaining their credential in my graduate program at UC Berkeley. We had to thread a movie projector with a film, use an opaque and overhead projector, and even dub a tape recording from a record. None of those things are done these days due to the advent of the computer projector.
I recall an anecdote from my student teaching days about this outdated equipment. I was teaching a US History class and created a unit on Manifest Destiny and Westward expansion. I have always wanted to get visceral responses to my lessons so I conceived the idea of something visual. The plan was to briefly discuss the settlers moving West with the desire to begin new lives in an untamed land. The composition of just who these people who were willing to forgo the difficult journey were. Then, after lulling the class with a soothing voice, I'd say, there was one thing they needed to consider that often was overlooked. There was somebody else whose plans and needs were quite different. Then at a prearranged moment, the lights would go off and the room would be surrounded by Native Americans.
Here's how: I'd cut out a picture from an advertisement from Time/Life books. It was a tribe of Natives on horseback looking down from a mountain into a valley below. Placing it on an opaque projector I found that I could blow it up to larger-than-life size. The day before I'd spent an extra hour after school in my classroom arranging the picture, adjusting the lens, moving the projector to just the right distance. Finally, I was able to get the desired effect. I then pre-arranged with a student to slowly slip over to the light switch and when I said, "but somebody else was already there!" he would turn off the lights and I'd flip the switch and the room would be surrounded by those Natives on their ponies, looking down on them.
It worked! All went well. I was fortunate enough to do this on a dark November day, so the classroom got really dark and the projected image surrounding everyone was very clear.
I'd like to think that this little strategy left an indelible impression on my students. Only they could tell you. For one student it left something and for me that something was unforgettable.
My first class was highly tracked. It was composed of what were called stanine groups each one given a number from one to ten. 5/6 were of "average" intelligence, 8-10 were called "fast." That meant that groups tracked 2-4 were called "slow." As repulsive as these terms are, that was the reality I found when I entered the profession. My first class was supposed to be a 5/6 group. After some diagnostic exercises early on, I soon found out that their abilities ranged from some who were virtually non-readers to some who could easily function in the highest group. Therefore I devised a range of assignments for them to represent their knowledge when it was time to evaluate them.
Lisa was an Asian girl who could best be described as an early disciple of the "punk movement." She had attitude. He dressed, spoke, and thought with disdain. She also had skills, despite very little motivation. There was no doubt in my mind she could function in the so-called "high ability" groups. She wanted none of it.
Long story short: On the final day of the semester, she handed in her term project late. She was not in class that day but after lunch, when I returned to my classroom, I found it there. It was a 3-dimensional collage in the form of a graveyard. Titled "Uncle San's Victory Garden" she had made tombstones detailing significant battles where U.S. troops had defeated Native peoples. She had represented her knowledge in a way that was both academically sound and visceral.
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