Teach'errr...'

One poem that really touched my heart... that took me to my teaching days and that kept me pondering over for long, was this poem called 'Little Boy' by Helen Buckley. I would like to start this journey of blogging on education with this poem. (Scroll down... read the poem and then return back to this section.. :) )

Going back to when I was a teacher... I considered my self as a good teacher. I made my class interesting, Students could never expect my behaviour. I would always go with surprise elements. And also do a lot of activity based teaching. Yet, one thing that I have never thought of, before reading this poem, is about creating an atmosphere where students can express their own thoughts in their own way... I always thought my teaching was complete if I just finish presenting or rather telling what was there in my mind! I thought my teaching was complete if students could do what I expected!

I remember how I struggled to 'think' and express my 'own' thoght in EZVidya in my initial few days. It was so hard to think on my own. I wanted to yell out 'Just tell me what to do and I shall do! Plz dont ask me to think!' But now I enjoy thinking and enjoy making others think... :)

In our ICT curriculum we have a component that requires the students to think and express their own thoughts... What we observe is that initially teachers have a great block to implement that componenet. But once they do it they enjoy that component the most! But there are still few teachers who would rather dictate the answers to the students than trigger the creativity in students. Why do you think it is so? Leave your comments... :)

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Little Boy - By Helen Buckley

Once a little boy went to school.

He was quite a little boy And it was quite a big school.

But the little boy Found that he could go to his room By walking in from the door outside,

He was happy And school did not seem Quite so big any more.

One morning, When the little boy had been in school awhile,

The teacher said: Today we are going to make a picture.

Good, thought the little boy.

He liked to make pictures.

He could make all things;

Lions and tigers, Chickens and cows, Trains and boats -

And he took out his box of crayons And began to draw.

But the teacher said, Wait.

It is not time to begin.

And she waited until everyone looked ready.

Now, said the teacher, We are going to make flowers.

Good, thought the little boy.

He liked to make flowers, And he began to make beautiful flowers.

With his pink and orange and blue crayons.

But the teacher said, Wait! And I will show you how.

And it was red, with a green stem.

There, said the teacher, Now you may begin.

The little boy looked at the teacher's flower.

Then he looked at his own flower.

He liked his flower better than the teacher's.

But he did not say this.

He just turned his paper over And he made a flower like the teacher's.

It was red, with a green stem.

On another day, When the little boy had opened The door from outside all by himself,

The teacher said: Today we are going to make something with clay.

Good, thought the little boy.

He liked clay.

He could make all kinds of things with clay:

Snakes and snowmen, Elephants and mice, Cars and trucks -

And he began to pull and pinch His ball of clay.

But the teacher said: Wait, it is not time to begin.

And she waited until everyone looked ready.

Now, said the teacher, We are going to make a dish,

He liked to make dishes, And he began to make some

That were all shapes and sizes.

But the teacher said, Wait And I will show you how.

And she showed everyone how to make One deep dish. There, said the teacher.

Now you may begin.

The little boy looked at the teacher's dish, Then he looked at his own.

He liked his dishes better than the teacher's.

But he did not say this.

He just rolled his clay into a big ball again And he made a dish just like the teacher's.

It was a deep dish.

And pretty soon the little boy learned to wait, And to watch,

And to make things just like the teacher.

And pretty soon He didn't make anything of his own any more.

Then it happened That the little boy and his family

Moved into another house, In another city,

And the little boy had to go to another school.

This school was even bigger than the other one,

And there was no door from the outside into his room.

He had to go up some steps,

And walk down a long hall To get to his room.

And the very first day He was there,

The teacher said: Today we are going to make a picture.

Good, thought the little boy, And he waited for the teacher To tell him what to do.

But the teacher didn't say anything. She just walked around the room.

When she came to the little boy she said: Don't you want to make a picture?

Yes, said the little boy, What are we going to make?

I don't know until you make it, said the teacher.

How shall I make it? asked the little boy.

Why, anyway you like, said the teacher.

And any colour? asked the little boy.

Any colour, said the teacher.

If everyone made the same picture, And used the same colours,

How would I know who made what?

And which was which? I don't know, said the little boy,

And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.

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