I am one of those strange teachers who actually enjoy programming - in fact I love it. It is the most powerful I ever get, as a particular curriculum story that I am telling myself unfolds across the page, progressing in just the order, at just the pace, and with just the results I imagine will be best for my class, who are always cooperative and engaged learners in my imagination, eager to discuss the texts, quick to pick up the subtle meanings and connections I have woven into the fabric of our planned experience, and happy to suspend their disbelief in my promise that they will enjoy this activity, as well as learn from it. The reality, of course, is never quite like I imagine it. This is because, from the moment we enter the classroom, I play out my curriculum story with feedback - right from the first moment. Good morning. Yes? No? Yes and no? M y plan, of course, was for yes, for everyone, but, if no, for even some, then my lovely curriculum story has a new complication. This is exciting rather than discouraging. I always begin a new class, unit of work or lesson with an optimistic wish that the story I told myself, as I was planning the teaching and learning that is about to take place, might perhaps 'come true' this time. But I have an equally optimistic confidence that whatever happens, I have up my sleeve a very good map of the territory we are meant to be covering, and we will not be wasting our time.
|Number of pages||6|
|Journal||English in Australia|
|Publication status||Published - 2013|