Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Reading Response 1


Two years ago, our school developed a hedgehog statement derived from the work outlined in Jim Collins’ book, Good to Great.  The hedgehog statement was the result of many hours of debate over the direction we wanted for our school.  The statement reads, “Creating meaningful, valuable, purposeful relationships to enhance learning through a culture that expects questioning, reflection, and the improvement of professional practice.”  To question another teacher’s practice demands a high degree of professional fortitude.  As a relatively new teacher in a team-teaching environment, questioning and reflection has been crucial to my professional development.  Questioning practice, however, not been without its challenges.  During the course of my undergraduate work, Dr. Jardine gave a lecture warning us to watch out for  “nay-sayers” in the profession.  These teachers would resist a shift toward inquiry, favouring tried, tested, and true practices derived from a history of industrial-based teaching methods.

I’ve encountered a number of “naysayers” in my journey as an educator.  These teachers resist change with such conviction, remaining clouded by emotion and the methodologies they hold dear.  As educators we are swimming against a strong current of stale practice, remnants of a deeply engrained industrial model.  Traditional practice is streamlined and efficient, comprised of dispensing a series of discipline-specific undifferentiated worksheets.  It’s tempting to get drawn into this comfortable way of teaching.  It’s a method many of us are familiar with because it’s the way we were taught.

During the year our school hedgehog statement was being developed, my team partner and I were debating how to approach mathematics in our classroom.  While I was advocating for integration, she preferred to teach mathematics as an isolated subject.  When I proposed a project that could incorporate Science, Social Studies, Mathematics, and Art, she responded with, “What about the pureness of Math?”  It had not occurred to me that by integrating curriculum I might be taking something away from Mathematics.

The question of the pureness of Math relates to Vicente’s concern with Humanistic vs. Mechanistic views, contrasting a focus on people vs. hardware and software in developing new technologies.  Vicente argues that when we foster the latter, it results in “technological systems that are technically sound and easy for other designers to use, but that bury ordinary people in a quagmire of complexity.” (Vicente pg 34-35)  Norman would agree, arguing that designers “know too much about technology and too little about how other people live their lives and do their activities.” (Norman pg 81) Teaching the pureness of math embraces the mechanistic view of design, the stereotypic “geeky technologists.” (Vicente pg 32)

As I reflect on these readings, I believe the goal of creating inquiry-based integrated projects is to bridge the Humanistic and Mechanistic views.  I cannot accept that by designing authentic projects, we ignore the pureness of math.  Instead, it not only serves to enhance mathematical application by creating a relevant context for mathematics to come alive, but also balances Mechanist with Humanist thought.