On Teaching Them Youngins
This past month I’ve been working at the summer writing camp again as a creative writing teacher and might I say it’s been a huge learning experience. What I expected from last year’s camp is in no way related to what I’ve experienced this year. First off, instead of teaching the older kids like I usually do, I’ve been paired up with 6-9 year old writers, which is an age group I’m still unfamiliar with in the classroom. Second, I’ve been asked to teach creative writing instead of critical writing.
As a result of these changes my teaching pedagogy has slighty shifted. What used to be my methods of discipline has altered to cater to this age group and the demographics of this area. What I’m quickly learning is that what once worked with my older students in the city has absolutely no effect at all with this younger crowd from this community. And finally, the way I translate my curriculum has adjusted to their comprehension and skill level as young writers. To sum it up I’ve been relearning how to teach writing to these kids all the while I’m reteaching myself as an educator.
The process so far has been daunting. I would be lying if I didn’t mention how much I’ve been wanting to quit. There have been countless times when I’ve come home just wanting to give up and moments when I thought I’ve had enough. With my patience constantly being tested every day sometimes I’ll feel so defeated I wouldn’t want to come into work the next day. But the more I contemplate that notion the more I believe that’s just not an option. Something in me keeps me coming back to these kids. Something in me keeps reminding me that I giving up on these kids is not possible.
As much as I’m struggling I’m learning more and more about why I’m struggling as an individual. In essence, as much as I’m being challenged and tested, this process is helping re-purpose myself as an educator and a writer. For instance, with these kids I’ve been forced to go back to the basics and fundamentals of writing, which is something I’ve overlooked as a writer. I’ve gone back to viewing writing as a simple, enjoyable act of expression rather a criticized complex piece of work. It’s not a foreign fact that my relationship with writing has altered into a love-hate connection. What once was so meaningful and natural has altered into a forced act of habit. It became something I knew I just had to do, but the joy of this action became nowhere near how it was in the beginning. But now that I’ve been teaching these kids the basics of writing, I’ve been thrown back to understanding why I’ve fallen in love with this craft in the first place.
In hindsight I guess all this hard work in the classroom is worth rediscovering something I thought I’ve lost for good. And for that I’m reminded why I can’t give up on them and why I can’t give up on myself either.
XII 