The Teacher Learns Her Lessons

Last fall, I wrote about being invited to teach a creative writing course at our local Red River College campus. On March 30, we began Level 2 and will finish before the May long weekend. One day during her daily check-in call, my mother asked me an interesting question, especially intriguing coming from someone who taught school for at least two decades. “How do you teach writing?”

Darned if I know.

My students are all adults who learned to read and write as children, from trained teachers who actually understood how to teach. They’re avid readers. They generally remember basic grammar, spelling, punctuation, and sentence structure from high school. So what could I bring to the table, really?

Well, it turns out that writing, like many things, is as much about motivation, inspiration, determination, and dedication as about writing. Bringing all those “nations” together has been my goal. In a last-class letter to my Level 1 students, I wrote, “I can’t make you a writer. Your Creator already did that.”

My task involves challenging them to turn on the tap to start and to keep words flowing. Providing creative exercises that push them to new ideas. Assigning an increasing number of words to write every day so they can discern their personal limits and then set their own goals in Level 2. Offering constructive feedback to help them edit their work as well as the work of their classmates. Showing how to carve out time and space, set goals, and plan a project. I’ve caught myself giggling with gleeful anticipation when I dream up a fun writing exercise. I’ve seen that same exercise go swimmingly, only to see it quickly flush itself down the drain with my next group, taking my confidence with it.

You’ve heard about teaching a man to fish and feeding him for a lifetime? In our class, the joke is, “Give someone a book and they’ll read for a day. Teach someone to write a book and they’ll spend a lifetime mired in paralyzing self-doubt.”

There’s truth in that. I’ve shared with my students the ups and downs of the writing world, the process of getting published, living with the agony of rejection, and overcoming writer’s block. We’ve discussed genre, memoir-writing, novel-plotting, character development, and more. Each lesson is truly the tip of the proverbial iceberg as there’s always more to learn.

I know this because I’m learning along with them. I sure can’t provide all the answers. But we’ve laughed a lot, cried a little, and thought some new thoughts—all elements of a good day. I’m learning that I gain more through a humble “Great question, I don’t know,” than by faking my way through a half-baked answer. Disclosing my failures goes as far as sharing my successes. Providing others a chance to share their work, to take that risk and bare their souls even a little can prove incredibly rewarding.

In his 1902 play, Man and Superman, George Bernard Shaw wrote, “Those who can, do; those who can’t, teach.” This becomes the fear of every artist, that their work won’t be good enough to stand on its own merit. Teaching their craft to others is often seen as a last resort. A consolation prize. I hope to prove Shaw wrong. Maybe, by God’s grace, I can have my writing and my students, too.

 

Full Circle

I’ll never forget one November day in 1995. Grubby and exhausted from hours of cleaning other people’s houses, I stopped in at Red River College’s local campus to pick up my husband who was teaching an Accounting course there. He had recently lost his right arm in a farming accident, throwing our family into turmoil. I wondered what challenges this new life might press upon us. Would I be expected to increase my earnings to help support the family? How could I? After ten years of cleaning, I felt unqualified for anything else. The world around me had become computer-dependent while I lagged behind with my mop and dustpan.

While I waited in the hallway, the manager of the center, Irene Adams, breezed by.

“Hi, Terrie. Come see me before you leave. About some work.”

I watched her disappear into her office. Forget it, I thought. I am not interested in adding one more cleaning job to my list, especially one the size of this place. Please don’t make me do this, God.

I felt tempted to sneak out, but Irene caught me and called me into her office. To my surprise, it wasn’t a cleaner she sought but an evening clerk. Someone to handle the office from regular quitting time until evening classes began. The work would be cyclical and varied. The pay exceeded what I currently made. If I wanted, I could even take classes free of charge as long as they related to my position.

I spent the next four years at that job. The rusty hinges of my office skills received oiling as I got up to speed with computers. I took several courses toward an Office Administration certificate—all free of charge. My life’s trajectory had changed.

The leg-up Irene offered me that day enabled me to accept my next position at my church for ten years, followed by another decade at city hall before retiring in 2019. Recently, in one of those delicious twists, Red River College invited me back. Not as a janitor. Not as an office clerk. But as an instructor of Creative Writing, based on my seven published books and twelve years of writing this column—goals I could never have accomplished without those computer skills gained way back when.

Photo courtesy L. Driedger

I accepted the challenge, wondering how I could stretch what I’ve learned into eight 3-hour sessions. By the time we had three of those classes under our belts, I found myself trying to figure out what I must leave for a future course! I’m learning along with my students, and I hope I’m helping them “turn on the tap” as we increase our daily word counts each week. I trust they are gaining confidence and polishing skills. And I really hope they’re having as much fun as I am. In another interesting twist, one of my students is Red River’s evening office clerk—the job I held all those years ago.

Through it all, I appreciate so much more how God leads and provides through the hills and valleys of life. And how following that lead can sometimes take us full circle in the most astonishing and delightful ways.

Psalm 37:23-24: “The Lord directs the steps of the godly. He delights in every detail of their lives. Though they stumble, they will never fall, for the Lord holds them by the hand.”

Your Teacher Wears Pajamas

Imagine standing in front of an audience to tell a story. A third of your audience is blind, a third deaf. The last third can see and hear but they’re so far away they can’t distinguish facial expression. You need to communicate to all three groups.

It’s a simple exercise I used to have my drama team try, but I can’t help wondering if that is how teachers feel these days as they teach from afar. It seems disparity becomes even more evident during a lockdown, as not all students have equal access to a computer or adult assistance. Sadly, some teachers also worry about students who depend on school breakfasts and snacks to ensure adequate nutrition. “We’re all in the same boat” is not an accurate metaphor.

Sally Willms teaches Grade 2 at Westpark School and is finding this new normal far more work than teaching in person. She mentioned the challenges of the constantly changing government directives, using a Google classroom with seven-year-olds, accommodating parent requests, phoning each home to stay connected with families, longer staff meetings, poor internet connections, and more.

At the same time, her own kids need assistance with their work. Since their dad also teaches and they don’t want their children alone on the internet, all four work in the same room. “There have been times where I’ve looked over at Corey and he’s wearing ear plugs as well as earmuffs to drown out the sound of our family learning/ teaching situation,” she says. “Yesterday Corey and I had to be in meetings at the same time, leaving two boys unsupervised for three hours. What could go wrong?”

Renata Beaulieu agrees. She teaches Visual Arts, Ojibway and Beading at PCI and is also “crisis-educating” her three kids in grades 8, 9, and 11. “What’s most challenging is connecting with my students on a regular basis,” she says. “One student finally responded to my emails after three weeks and apologized because he was watching a series on Netflix.” 

Kyle Klyne instructs Science, English, Native Studies, and Geography at the Portage Learning and Literacy Centre. Though his students are adults, he faces similar challenges and agrees that face-to-face instruction works best.

Susan Hiebert is the Director of Westpark Children’s Centre. Since she teaches preschool for 2-6-year-olds, she has had no contact with her students. “The year ended so abruptly and I am mourning the loss of the three best months of the year,” she says. “My heart aches for the loss of this special time with this group of children as I know I will never get it back. Although I am out of work until the fall, I am grateful I can be at home to homeschool my three boys. As a parent of a child with special needs, it has been difficult to get into a good routine for completing schoolwork. It seems to be a daily struggle to engage him in learning, but he is academically behind his peers, so I feel he needs to try to get the work done.”

 

But there are silver linings, too. The teachers mentioned rewards like having more time to chat with parents via phone, becoming more computer literate, saving money on gas, having more time with their families, and working in pajamas.

Kyle Klyne continues to work from the learning centre but said, “Developing online tutorials and assignments could prove useful in the future, especially for those with transportation barriers.”

As a teacher in a Christian school, Sally Willms has a unique opportunity. “I’ve been able to pray with parents over the phone who have needed encouragement and are experiencing anxiety during this time, and bring some comfort.”

When I asked the teachers what they wanted folks to know, their collective messages boiled down to three valuable insights:

“Please be gracious as we’re learning a new way to teach.”

“Parents, do the best you can right now. Our children will need lots of review in the fall, but they will be fine.”

“With the increase in internet activity, please be vigilant. Protect their minds and eyes from things children should not be exposed to, even if that means not every assignment can be done. Their minds and hearts are more important than any science project.”

Teachers, when you chose education as your profession, you had no idea how much flexibility, innovation, and compassion would be required in 2020. You’ve stepped up admirably. You are a treasure. Hang in there. God bless you.