One-Page reaction Post (at least one): Briefly summarize an aspect of a text that stands out to you and connect it to your current thinking about teaching and learning.

Theory of Teaching and Learning: Post a brief one-page piece about how you frame teaching and learning. Use this as a way to frame your teaching approach prior to our institute. You may want to use parts of your application essay, if you feel that is applicable.

2 Responses: Respond with a minimum of two paragraphs to someone else’s post.

As a 10th-grade English teacher at a public high school in Pennsylvania, I am responsible for teaching a course attached to a ‘high-stakes’ test: the Keystone Literature Exam. Teachers of this course are encouraged to focus their instruction primarily on the skills outlined in state standards. Not only can I personally testify that this can be draining for a teacher, but reports ranging from A Nation At Risk in 1983 to 2017’s NAEP show low literacy scores – this indicates that despite the intense focus on skills, students are not demonstrating their full potential with them. This is not only disappointing but alarming. On a micro level, I stress when I view my students’ test results each summer, recognizing that this test is an access point for progression and opportunities in the rest of high school and beyond. On a macro level, the proficiency rates for the populations our schools have underserved are disturbing. One of the most important messages from this chapter that resonates with me is: “Our Black students are not failing; it is the systems, instruction, and standards created to monitor, control, and measure a very narrow definition of achievement that are off the mark. Most important, instruction is ahistorical for Black children” (Muhammad, 2020, p. 87).

Muhammad points out that schools’ obsession with skills crowds out other worthy pursuits  “such as identity, anti-racism, and criticality… These goals are not at the forefront; rather, the skills and other selected elements that educators and policy makers think are easily measured become the focus” (2020, p. 86-87). For high achievement, students’ development of skills cannot exist in a vacuum – we are not serving them well as communicators and thinkers when we seek to advance skills alone. The suggested approaches and rubrics in “Ways to Learn, Understand, and Teach Writing Skills” provide concrete examples of how to “teach the skills of historians, scientists, mathematicians, and writers” (Muhammad, 2020, p. 96). As I consider how I will help cultivate the genius in the 10th graders I will meet in August, I want to frame literacy not as only skill development, but as a tool for life.

Gholdy Mohammad- Cultivating Genius Pages 104-106

"Black people were organizing around literacy in the 1800s. Psychologists were developing I.Q. tests to measure intelligence. These became a mechanism for tracking students, predicting their academic success, or marginalizing them (Mohammed p. 105) This section really resonated with me on a deeply personal level. I recall having been a "failing or struggling student up until sixth grade. I remember a teacher who assisted me in seventh grade learning support. She met me at the beginning of homeroom one day. She asked to speak with me. She said, "Willeena your IQ test has gone up a significant number of points since it was last taken. This is something that rarely ever happens! Did something change in your life? Well, I stood stunned with the ambush of questions centered around a test I had never heard of before! I stood there silently. The teacher went on to say, this increase we only see if there has been a shift in the home environment. Did something change? I quietly replied no and escaped inside the room. What I did not reveal was yes, my home life had changed dramatically! We were living with extended family (some who were abusive) for the past 3 years and they finally moved out!

My experience shows that IQ tests are not true predictors of a child's intelligence. Gholdy shared that these tests also feed into the negative narrative of how Black people view our own "intellectual excellence." She also shared that the questions and excerpts from these tests are disconnected from student's real-world experiences as referenced in the Good Times Episode titled Michael's IQ test. In the episode Michael goes on to share about the Black Intelligence Test of Cultural Homogeneity (BITCH Test) that was designed to reveal bias in IQ testing. The tests today still reflect the test creators "white bias" and feature questions that do not reflect students’ lived experiences, especially for students in marginalized groups.

Throughout my academic journey, I've been fortunate to have inspiring teachers and mentors who ignited my love for learning and dedication to helping others.Their guidance motivated me to pursue a career in education and continuously strive for excellence in my professional practice. One of my earliest and most influential mentors was my mother, a true advocate for education, who nurtured my passion for the arts—dance, music, drama, fiber arts, and writing. These experiences enrich my teaching toolbox, which I eagerly share with my students.

I firmly believe in the uniqueness of every student and their right to personalized support in their learning journey. Therefore, I am dedicated to employing diverse teaching strategies that cater to various needs and learning styles. Creating a safe and inclusive classroom environment is paramount to me, ensuring all students feel valued, respected, and empowered to succeed.

In addition to teaching, I am deeply interested in educational research and innovation. I enthusiastically explore new teaching methodologies and technologies to enhance student learning and engagement. My focus includes integrating technology into the classroom in meaningful ways and empowering student voices through writing, public speaking, and the arts.

Ultimately, my goal as an educator is to inspire and empower students to become lifelong learners—curious, critical thinkers, and compassionate members of society. Even as an elementary school teacher, I firmly believe in nurturing young learners' abilities to address societal issues, form opinions supported by evidence, and actively contribute to improving their communities. These outcomes are achieved as students learn to synthesize information, think creatively, and collaborate effectively while respecting diverse viewpoints.

The effective educator seeks to continually develop as a learner themselves. When applying to the Invitational Summer Institute (ISI) on Writing and Literacy, I knew it would be an excellent opportunity to reflect and grow as a teacher of writing. In my application essay, I shared that each school year, I begin on the first day with a sentence from Writing Analytically by David Rosenwasser and Jill Stephen: “A sentence is the shape a thought takes.” I share this immediately so it may serve as the lens through which we, as a classroom community, view the course. From my professional experience as a classroom teacher and my undergraduate and graduate experience, I have learned to see the teaching of writing as the teaching of thinking.

As a teacher of American Literature, I was drawn to the connection of this year’s ISI to the Teaching with Primary Sources grant from the Library of Congress. I understand these grants support the Library of Congress’s mission to use its collections to connect with communities and “to engage, inspire, and inform Congress and the American people with a universal and enduring source of knowledge and creativity.” My curriculum requires that I teach some of the traditional novels in American Literature and I believe my students would benefit from a greater focus on literature relevant to their individual and cultural identities. For example, in recent years I have adjusted a unit originally centering The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald so that it may better recognize the social context of the 1920s – the poetry of the Harlem Renaissance now also takes focus in this unit. Literature is stories, and what better way to learn about both themselves and the world than to read people’s stories?

Love was the theme of our gathering today, prompting us to ponder its definition. Reflecting on  Hooks' perspective, she hypothesizes that love should be seen as a verb—a practice rather than just a noun. I resonate deeply with this view. To me, love is like a three-strand cord. The first strand is our positive response to what we find engaging or endearing. The second is a daily conscious choice, especially when faced with hardship or conflict. Lastly, love manifests as a consistent action, lived out day after day. Sometimes we get it right, sometimes adjustments are needed, but it remains an ongoing practice.

Love, as discussed by Muhammad in "Unearthing Joy," encompasses joy, peace, and community. It involves striving for beauty, wholeness, wellness, and happiness, and creating spaces of freedom and safety, even if safety feels relative in today’s world.

During our conversations at the Colored Girls Museum, I found myself questioning many things:

• Can teachers teach with genuine joy and passion if they don't love themselves?

• What is the distinction between accountability and responsibility?

• How can we enhance the practice of loving in practical terms?

• In teacher-student relationships, how can we better affirm students whose ways of receiving love differ from our own?

• What do I need to unlearn or learn more about culturally and historically responsive education as an act of love?

• How can I transform my pain into something meaningful for future generations?

As I reflect on Musiq SoulChild's lyrics, "Love, so many people use your name in vain," I'm compelled to consider how I may have been guilty of this myself. It prompts me to reflect on the authenticity of my expressions of love and how they align with my actions.

In conclusion, this reflection challenges me to embody love not just as a concept, but as a daily practice that informs my interactions, my teaching, and my personal growth. It calls for a deeper introspection into how I can authentically live out love in all aspects of my life.

like the empty seat

at the Seder table,

becoming more of the

light Michelle Obama

called us to carry,

being the light to

illuminate someone else's past,

this light centers each of us,

shines brightest

In times of peace,

piecing us together

copyrightwb2024

Denise McNair, age 11,

Say there names...

Addie Mae Collins, age age 14,

Say there names... Carole Robertson, age 14,

Say there names... Cynthia Wesley age 14,

say the names of more than

20 others who were injured.

Weep for their unfinished play,

wail for their broken girlhood,

their paused purpose,

their unwritten stories,

their unresolved struggle,

weep for it all,

weep for the words sagging sad

on the page,

with red tears.

The church pew's

splintered shrouds

cover their

innocence,

caught in the crossfire

of hate vs love.

copyrightwb2024

Today we read the Wheatley Article Willing to be Disturbed! I found myself feeling a discourse rising up from within me. The author invites us to experience being “confused” or uncertain as we learn to communicate better. The text said We have to be willing to let go of our certainty and expect ourselves to be confused for a while. She urges us to lean into the confusion to gain a deeper sense of clarity about ourselves and about each other. The article reminded me of a conversation I had with a member/friend in my community circle. I shared with this person (who is an older white woman) that I felt I was experiencing racism on my job. This is a conversation we had on the phone and so I was pouring out all the wrongs and reasons I felt about my interactions at work. The person on the other end was quiet and she never probed further nor did she interrupt! After the phone call, the friend sent me an email (see below)

{Hi Leena,

I am so sorry to hear about your troubles. After our conversation, I thought perhaps you might find useful some of my experiences.

I am an anthropologist by training. My first teaching job was at Rutgers, Newark.  I had three preparations. One of them was called Peoples and Cultures of Africa. That was in the sixties. I was part of the problem because my face was the wrong color. My husband had to push me out of bed every morning to make me go to work. It was a rough time, but by the end of the semester My students and I were friendly and life was much easier.

My next job was at John Jay College of Criminal Justice, teaching cops, open enrollment students and corrections officers. Last teaching job was at LaGuardia Community College and then at a local high school. Total teaching was 10-years.

I thought my job was to teach information about anthropology to my students.  I only learned many years later that what I should have been doing was meeting the students where they were and enabling them to become more resilient, open and curious. The information was only the means to that end.

There is a book called: All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten: Uncommon Thoughts on Common Things Paperback – May 4, 2004

by Robert Fulghum (Author) 

This book sums it up.  I learned much later that the most important thing I could teach my students would be how to bring peace into their lives.

With regard to DEI.

I am Jewish. I lost 6 million relatives in the 1940s. In the US people posted NO JEWS, NO DOGS to job seekers in the 1930s. My grandparents left Europe in the 1890s to escape pogroms and forced enlistment for 20-years in the Russian army. Now antisemitism is virulent once again.

 It often feels that DEI is very weak on the I. It is often framed that white people are the cause of all misery.

As an anthropologist, I find it curious that there is no attention given to the African tribes that supported the slave trade by raiding villages and providing the bodies.  I wonder if the Africans coming to elite universities are their descendants. I bought a book of maps showing where the slaves were sourced.

 I don’t have any answers. Just questions.

I hope that you will consider what I have written as coming from a friend open to conversation. I look forward to hearing from you.}

Well, needless to say I was floored when I got this letter! I was confused, I didn’t understand why she wrote this! I didn’t know why she wanted me to know her wonders. I attempted to write her back by validating her feelings. I attempted to speak to some of her points. I acknowledged that slavery was wrong even by the African tribes who were apart of the slave trade. She states that she is wondering if the Black students at elite colleges are descendants of the Africans who helped to capture slaves. I find this hurtful and confusing. However, I truly wanted to close the conversation. I was sorry that I chose to speak to her about anything! Yet as I reflect on Wheatley’s article, I could be “curious about how someone else interprets things.” I could ask “ What did I just hear that startles me?” The author writes that we should “listen as best you can for what’s different, and to listen without judgment, and this type of listening brings us closer!” I felt as if my friend was projecting her thoughts about race and diversity on me and that she was deflecting my truth and my experience. This perception bothered me and I moved to distance myself from her and also from the conversation and if I am honest all future communication! However Wheatley’s words soften my heart and my judgment. I am more willing to revisit my connection with this friend. I want to challenge my views, my bias, my judgements. I want to see if I can lean into what disturbs me. Wheatley stated that as we work together  to restore hope to the future, we need to include a new strange ally- our willingness to be disturbed!

learn hygiene and etiquette

Identities lost

copyright.wb2024

#Haiku Poetry

The Johnson Reed Act blocked immigration

They blocked sick, mute, deaf, uneducated

copyrightwb2024

"Instead of saying 'defiant and confrontational,' say 'genius.'"

I was a precocious reader as a kid. I wasn't labeled as "gifted & talented" that I can recall, but my mom had to do a lot of advocacy when I was in elementary school to make sure my teachers were challenging me. And I could be a real terror when I sensed that an adult in my life was intimidated by me. My mom couldn't keep a babysitter. I made my seventh-grade math teacher cry because of some critical feedback I gave her when she tried a different approach to differentiation during a unit on negative numbers. I've spent my entire career as an educator working in settings where the majority of my students do not look like me, and I think a lot about what school might have been like if I had been born into different circumstances. I could have easily been labeled "defiant and confrontational." I often gravitate towards those kids for that reason, but even still I had some especially challenging relationships with students this past year. Did I truly see their genius? What might have been different if I did? How can I reframe my thinking next year? How can I support my colleagues, and hold them accountable, in reframing the way we think and speak about our students?

I love all of my students deeply, even when they make me frown, question, cry; even when they don’t love me back, even when they don’t like me. I love them unconditionally. 

Sometimes, I wonder if I am doing them a disservice by being too kind. Am I being the best teacher that I can be for my kids? Am I breaking cycles of trauma, or am I ill-preparing them for the world? Am I setting them up for failure? Do I need to uphold stronger boundaries? What is the mathematical formula for balancing rigorous academia with kindness? How do you need me to love you? 

Sometimes I come home, full of anger, and the littlest thing can set me off. Haven’t I been patient enough today? Guilt ensues. 

Still–I want to be gentle with you, my loves. I want to be that which is soft, when xxx makes yet another comment, that kid is so unlovable. I want to say to him, don’t you know the power of language? As the bible promises, "In the beginning was the Word." If we are careful with our voice, words allow voice to what was once unspeakable. Before anything takes form in the world, it must first be conceived as an idea. To truly teach, that idea must be love.

Style proffers that there is another half of this dialectic; “In the beginning is the Hearing” (1988, p. 1). A true conversation weaves voice and silence. It involves listening and speaking, attending to words and to the quiet between them. Embrace the quiet between words; allow every sound to reverberate, to stagnate and stutter. It is about speaking and being heard, listening and truly understanding. Are you listening? 

This week has been heavy, but my community comes through. 

A student confides in me, seeking help to organize and sponsor her club focused on domestic violence and sexual abuse against women.

A sweet, pink post-it note: "I love your skirt! You look so pretty!"

"What would we do without you?"

"Ms. Emma, you’re pretty cool. Can I get some advice? There’s this girl..."

"Ms. got highlights and a dress! She looks brand new!"

“Ms. Emma is definitely my most patient teacher.”

“Nah, be so forreal! We are going to miss you so much…”

Perhaps I was so focused on loving that I forgot that I, too, am loved.

There is no special flavor of love reserved exclusively for romantic partners. Love is both intention and action; we must choose to love, to nurture and grow. Love centers care, affection, responsibility, respect, commitment, and trust; when we practice love, we want to give more. Giving generously in relationship means honoring others’ interests on equal footing with our own. I am leaving this seminar just as I move into more concretely planning my creative writing course, and I am considering how I can endeavor to center not only my students’ stories, but their overall communities, and their sense of place. Students must be able to situate themselves within the world around them to be strong writers–what really matters to you, and who do you want to be in this world? Writer, know thyself. 

Based on my reflections on love and my learnings from this seminar and that outside of it, I plan to center my course through the lens of place-based writing. The goal of my course is to help my students’ discover their own voices, but it is through a personal rendering of what constitutes high culture–is it the elite and strange that we must attempt to equate ourselves with, or might we recognize a broader definition of aesthetics and creativity that is far more inclusive and diverse? By centering the local not only are students more predisposed to form meaningful and authoritative connections with the various forms of art around them, but a greater conversation is initiated between the local [our students] and the larger politics of culture. Which cultural artifacts have warranted preservation, and which have been lost or forgotten? Which are exhibited, and at what cost, and to whom? Who decides, and who tells their stories? 

I am left considering: how do we best love each other, ourselves, and the world around us? My goal in education, then, is to achieve an answer to that question. June Jordan perhaps puts it best, “At last, I had become a part of an academic community where you could love school because school did not have to be something apart from, or in denial of, your own life and the multifarious new lives of your heterogeneous students! School could become, in fact, a place where students learned about the world and then resolved, collectively and creatively, to change it!” (Leon, 2016, para. 3).

Going beyond the idea of a well-rounded curriculum, we must also turn on its head the idea that education can ever be neutral. In essence, education “must be fundamentally tied to a struggle for a qualitatively better life for all by constructing a society based on non-exploitative relations and social justice” (McClaren 2015, p. 132). In addition, we must recognize that class in the United States is inextricably linked to race, giving consideration to this both in the academic curriculum and the hidden curriculum, or what we implicitly teach to students. This involves, as previously mentioned, a significant amount of self-reflection and meta-cognition. We must look within ourselves not just to parse out our own identities or beliefs, but to trace back our patterns of thinking and behavior to their root causes. This conscientisation helps us to shape our academic and hidden curriculum to support the goal of justice and liberation for all.

Finally, it is imperative that we engage meaningfully with the communities in which we work. A socially responsible, democratic education includes the voices and ideas of families, students, and community members. Decisions are not to be made unilaterally by leaders, but in conversation with all whom the decision may affect. Practically, this requires practices such as home visits, community action meetings in schools and in the community, and removing constraints to access by providing childcare, food, and transportation. This also means making progressive educational theory more accessible in the language that we use or examples that we give. The crux of an inclusive, socially responsible, and democratic education is that we, as scholar-practitioners do not sit in an ivory tower, but share our learning and learn from community members, who have so much knowledge to offer.

Works Cited

McLaren, P. (2015). Life in schools: An introduction to critical pedagogy in the foundations of education. New York, NY: Routledge.

I grew up in the so-called "Berkeley Bubble", where racism is more insidious—at face value, everyone is equal, and land acknowledgements purport to absolve the community of meaningful reparations. I began 9th grade at El Cerrito High School where I felt unsafe because there were numerous fights across campus every day. Teachers were not engaged, and some would play movies in lieu of teaching educational materials. After I was assaulted by an older student in the hallway, I transferred to another school; since my dad lived in Berkeley, I was able to transfer to Berkeley High after finishing out my freshman year. 

Despite this tenuous start, I began to excel because I was surrounded by amazing teachers who challenged me to harness my creativity–my English teacher in particular completely changed my worldview, not only on the necessity of education, but also on viewing the world through a critical lens. He spearheaded protests and walk-outs on campus and helped me realize my own passion for social justice. Through my experience at BHS, I was constantly buzzing with what was important to me, and I felt heard. I was particularly passionate about feminism; my senior year culminated in me winning an award for a project on gendered violence faced by women. Concurrently, I interviewed community members for ​The Berkeley Times, ​where I forefronted stories of excluded groups and overlooked cultural spaces. I knew I would teach in public schools to help create a passion for social justice within students as I had experienced. 

This is my second year as a learning support teacher at Science Leadership Academy high school, and my fifth year teaching students. I grew up in California, where transient movement is less covert; in 2023, government statistics (Gramlich, 2024) noted a record high of 250,000 “migrant crossings” at the lines legally separating the United States and Mexico. I thus grew up with many friends from Mexico, Colombia, and Brazil, and the cultures of the Americas were much more explicitly enmeshed in my everyday life. In 2017, inspired by my interest in Spanish language and multilingualism, I moved to Spain. My time in Córdoba was punctuated by slower moments of self-reflection and ethereal strolls through mosques disguised as cathedrals, where I could observe where the north and south met to dance–occasionally a Flamenco, but with practiced diligence, I could make out a Shikat. I was thus drawn to the Spain-Morocco relationship, and noted many paraties with the California-Mexico one. 

Upon my return to UC Berkeley, I took a class on Islam, and my newfound appreciation for ideas around othering and belonging in connection with this class coupled with the current political landscape would go on to influence my teaching pedagogy and practices. The venn diagram, it seemed, extended across cultures and bodies of water; the linguistic and cultural pluralism of Morocco was echoed in my native California, where the majority of my students spoke Spanish at home, translanguaging and code-switching as soon as they stepped through one doorway, returning through another. I would go on to be the point person for these families, realizing what a privilege it was to have pursued my education in my first language, and reworking my own definition of education. Education, I decided, was deeply intertwined with community. I began to ensure that I was uplifting students’ interests and centering their respective identities, by surveying my students and families on their interests and passions, and would embed said responses within the curriculum.

These students–meaning, culturally and linguistically diverse students–are oft viewed as deficient when they do not fit neatly into the standards that make up the American educational system–that is, white people and their beliefs, experiences, outcomes, histories, and epistemologies are viewed as the norm to which all others are compared. This grew my curiosity of what it could look like to center my multilingual and multicultural students within the US schooling context such that their identities and cultures are given equal precedence. When I came to Penn’s Urban Teaching Apprenticeship Program, I was able to build my pedagogy around such. My students’ linguistic and cultural backgrounds differed heavily from my students in California, and I thus began to rework my practice around these new identities. For my thesis, I focused on centering students at the intersection of culturally responsive pedagogy, socioemotional learning, and student-centered learning by conducting research within my classroom, the implications of which built the foundation of my student-centered praxis. 

Teachers cannot teach what they do not know. I have spent a great deal of my life studying in various schools–nineteen years in eight schools, to be exact–and I have studied a great deal of theory. Yet, there is a clear discrepancy in what I have learned inside the classroom, and what I have witnessed outside of it, in what students have needed, and what I have been told to teach. Lytle (2006) argues that to reconceptualize the literacies of our adolescents, we must involve outside communities and build spaces of discourse about said communities; we must center the local. Our students, our writers, must “feel ‘located’ in a particular community and must feel that their writing contributes” in order to write well and to strive for improvement, and should “look closely at the role writing plays in how we perceive places, at how places affect our writing, and at how our writing affects those places” (Ball & Lai, 2006, p. 283)–it is through a dialogic approach that we move forward towards change in any form.

 My teaching philosophy is primarily grounded in the belief that I am as much a teacher as I am a student of students. Student-centered learning shapeshifts to take many variations and forms, and needs modifying depending on a given student, a given class. I believe that students must drive the curriculum in the English classroom, such that they feel their learning matters, and is relevant to them and their goals.

I aim to foster a classroom community where students feel encouraged to ask questions, challenge assumptions, and engage critically with course material. I aim to cultivate empathy and a sense of agency in my students, enabling them to become active agents of positive change in their communities. My ultimate goal is that all of my students to feel seen, valued, and heard in their respective identities, and are empowered to become justice-oriented citizens in a democratic society. 

As a teacher, I often refer to my students as "my students," a phrase that acknowledges my deep connection to them, particularly those who share similar backgrounds and experiences as my own. Muhammad’s states “ we don't separate the progress of Black children, as an example, from the progress of our people.”( Cultivating Genius pg 66) When I think of my students I see them as I see myself. I treat them like a sibling and not like an authority figure. As the only Black teacher at my school I found that a lot of my peers struggled with forming cultural relationships  with our students. This insight resonates strongly with my observations. Muhammad highlights how current curricula and school environments often ignore the rich cultural and personal narratives that students bring, reducing their learning experience to something impersonal and disconnected from their lives.

This year, as the only Black teacher and the only Black Muslim woman at my school, I have made it a priority to ensure that my students see themselves represented in the curriculum and in school. For example, during Ramadan, I initiated discussions and activities related to the holiday, including prayer practices and conversations about improving as Muslims. This approach not only validated their identities but also created a sense of community and belonging. A lot of times in American school, we tend to only focus on Christian holidays and their days off associated with them. It's only within the last 5 years that students got a day off from school for Eid celebration.  Such representation is crucial; it allows students to see that their unique identities are acknowledged and valued within the educational setting.

Muhammad stresses that educators should not only teach academic skills but also help students understand, validate, and celebrate their identities. In my experience, when students see their stories and identities reflected in their education, they are more engaged and motivated. This is particularly true for my students.  For instance, when discussing literature that touches on themes of cultural identity,  the struggles with societal expectations, and assimilating to American culture many of my Hispanic students related deeply to the narrative. They saw parallels between the character's experiences and their own, which facilitated meaningful connections to the text and sparked discussions about maintaining cultural identity.

In summary, Muhammad’s chapter stresses the necessity of a curriculum that reflects and celebrates students' identities. Discussions should encourage students to share their perspectives, and assignments should allow them to express their identities. By doing so, we create a more inclusive and engaging learning environment, empowering students to see themselves not just as learners, but as valued individuals with unique contributions to make.