Why am I here? Where do we go from here? (Part 1)

Before we begin answering the big questions in the title, it's apt that I provide some explanation to the scope of the questions I asked. The problem is that "here" is type of word that linguists call a deixis, a word that requires contextual clarification. In this case, "here" refers to both a place and time.

 Location: NIE             Time: At the beginning of my PGDE course

Before I left CJC after almost a year of contract teaching, students asked me for the reason I am leaving them. 

My answer, "I need to go to NIE. I need to get trained". 

The reply often was, "but, you so good in Physics already, why need to get trained?"

Herein lies the very crux of the question we ask here, "Why NIE?". Firstly, we need to recognise that knowing a subject and teaching it are two distinct set of skills. The recognition of the varied models of intelligences and learners are proof of these diversity, some of us are better at grasping certain concepts in certain ways better than other.

Learning is primarily a process of internalisation, understanding something for yourself. At the end of the day, it is the individual who needs to understand the concept, a process independent of the understanding of your peers [1]. 

Teaching, in contrast, is an act of "delivering" (for the lack of a better word) ideas catering to a diverse set of personalities, competencies and preconceived perspectives. Catering to all of these different viewpoints, even if you are talking about a singular concept is extremely difficult. However, that is one of the main goals as teachers, to send the message across clearly to all the intended recipients. These considerations make clear that even if I do know my subject well, there's still quite a lot to learn about dealing with this diversity to make my teaching effective.

Returning to the core question, why am I here? The simple answer would be to develop the core teaching competencies with my conceptual knowledge of my subject content as a foundation. 

1. To develop the right values to be a good (both competent and ethical) teacher 
2. To figure out how best to create a learning environment that will attempt to cater to all these diverse needs of students so that I can deliver my content well.
3. To learn how to deliver the actual content well, and finally, 
4. To understand why certain methods work and why other do not. 

Indeed, if I do keep these ideas in mind, the learning processes in NIE will be a lot more meaningful. The above are the ends in mind, and the courses are the means to that end. We tend to think that many of these traits are instinctive: the so-called, "it's all "common sense" isn't it?", and the quip, "surely anyone who knows the content well can teach". 

Well, there is a little bit of truth in it, I find myself having thought of the same questions the courses in NIE aim to answer in my stint in teaching, and developed some of the answers myself, but ultimately, there are still plenty of gaps, self-realisations and mistakes that remain to be ironed out if I am to be a better teacher, and deliver my content and discharge my duties effectively.  

This, I do hope, serves as slightly protracted, but very personal answer to the question my students ask, and of course, more importantly, as a little reflection about the significance of my journey in NIE right before I begin. I am afraid I've run out of time to type out the response the the second question, so... see you next post.

[1] At this juncture, I feel I need to clarify this point. I acknowledge that learning can take place collaboratively, but still ultimately, it is still out of self-initiative and personal effort to examine and toy with the concept in which truly meaningful learning takes place. I like to think of it as an openness of the mind

The Pale Blue Dot and Why I Teach

There are two great minds who have inspire me greatly, one of whom you would have met in my exposition in the "Teaching Philosophy" section. The first is Richard Feynman, Nobel Prize-winning physicist and one of the greatest educators of science in the 20th century, a man whose insatiable curiosity and wonderment of the reality never ceases to remind me why I love Physics so much and how beautiful the world is if we simply let our curiosity guide us. 

The other great mind is scientist and writer Carl Sagan. Sagan was not only a brilliant astronomer but a man who could translate the beauty of the Cosmos into words: words that not only flow beautifully when heard and read, but inspire a sense of duty within each and every one of us to explore and learn. His words instill within us the sense of duty to protect our Planet, the only home we know and to preserve our existence. 

These sentiments were captured beautifully in a reflective monologue titled the Pale Blue Dot (you can listen to the audio recording here), a piece inspired by a photo of Earth from the vicinity of the planet Saturn, taken by the Voyager probe. From that distance, Earth is nothing but an insignificant pale blue dot in the darkness of the universe, showing how small we actually are in the grand scheme of things. 

See that tiny little bright pixel on the centre right, a little speck floating in a sunbeam. That's Earth from 6 billions kilometres away. That's you, me and everything that we know, all on a tiny pixel in a photo. That same picture, zoomed in, is the picture I have used for the header of this website. I circled the Pale Blue Dot, and labelled it with the exact words that Sagan used to describe that speck, "That's here, that's home, that's us..." 

So, how does the Pale Blue Dot monologue influence my principles and ideas about teaching? Why does it occupy so central a role in my philosophy?

Here's a quote from the reflection:

"Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark"

For one, I believe, we as educators, not only teach concepts and hard facts, we also teach perspectives. The reason Sagan chose to show us this photo of a pale blue dot is to tell us that we, as humans, are not special. More often than not, we get pre-occupied with the small things, the jealousy, the conceit and the pride of our everyday achievements. We bask in our own glory when we beat someone else in a competition, but take a step back and consider, is that really all that matters to us?

This is an important lesson in humility, that even though I can feel content and comfortable that I have achieved and learnt all there is to be learnt about a particular subject, there is always more that can be done, more to see, more to do, more to explore. After all, my achievements amount to nothing more than a small triumph on a small corner of a small dot in space. I must remember that there are boundless possibilities beyond what I have just succeeded at, and thus, a great reminder that there is more out there to learn and do.

How does it matter to the way I teach? It comes down to demonstrating the motivation to explore. Both Sagan and Feynman teach not only the facts, but brings out the awe in their audience to further discover and further improve our understanding. The concepts and formulae and facts I teach are not ends in themselves, nor are they means to a short-term end (read: exams). They are just stepping stones to inspire and expedite further exploration into understanding reality and the discover the intricacies of the subject they are learning. It boils down to showing just a sneak preview of how much there is to learn, and if that little teaser is delivered beautifully enough and is sufficiently awe-inspiring, the motivation to learn will come from within the learner. That I find is my ultimate goal for my role as an educator.        

Starting Out On A Journey

Hello and welcome to my little blog, one that chronicles my journey as I explore the strange and wonderful world that is education. The source of inspiration for the title may be familiar to some. Indeed, it was taken from the lyrics of "At the Beginning", a wonderful song by Donna Lewis and Richard Marx.

This post marks the first of (hopefully) many as I begin my journey in NIE as a fledgling teacher. Stay tuned for the next post where I discuss the reason for the two quotes in the header of the portfolio page and begin preparation for what looks like a hectic year ahead!