Experiencing Silence in the Classroom
This anecdote has been developed from one student’s response to discussion that took place as part of a Curriculum Leadership course in an M.Ed program. The students have been together for one year and have completed four courses. The majority of the students are currently employed as teachers within various school districts in K-12 classes. Other students are employed in university, career and employment, early childhood, administration, and dental health settings. Some are currently not employed but have worked within the school system as teachers. The instructor has initiated discussion to identify factors that are important for effective leadership.
I sit in class, listening to the discussion developing around me. The instructor stands at the front of the class, gaze settling on raised hands, in turn, granting each student silent permission to add their thoughts to the discussion…
“What about respect”?
“Well, obviously as teachers we all respect our students, otherwise we wouldn’t be teachers!”
She glances around the room, “That goes without saying!”
Quickly my glance slides over the students. Her statement is met with nods and smiles from others. I wait for someone to disagree. No one does. The discussion continues.
My gaze anchors to the smooth surface of the table top in front of me. A rapid tingle bolts across my skin and my breathing turns from a smooth flow in…out…in…out, to stunted breaths.
My voice screams through my mind, “Do you really believe that?” “Do you all believe that?” “Am I the only one to think that not all teachers respect their students?”
In a flash, memories crowd my mind. My senses fill with the sights and sounds of a long ago class room. My stomach rolls and the recently enjoyed muffin threatens to make an unwanted appearance. I steadfastly watch my desktop. I continue to hope for some sign of disagreement. It does not happen.
Class ends. Laptop chimes cascade through the room as knapsacks slap the table tops. Chair legs scrape the floor. I sit in stillness for a moment, pulling my thoughts into the present. Snaking my hand down the side of my chair, I seek the soft handles of my book bag and gently lift it on to my lap. With little thought, textbook, pen, and notebook, shift one at a time from the desk top into the bag. Slowly my body weight eases to the edge of the seat, I tentatively rise and, with a quick glance at my target, start working my way to the door.
Head bowed, I stumble down the hallway, grasping my book bag. My mind buzzes, struggling to make sense of the class discussion. Fractured images collide, bounce and skitter in all directions. Mists of thoughts swirl, refusing structure. Beliefs once as familiar and comfortable as a favourite sweater lay in tatters at my feet. How did this happen? I feel raw with emotion. I need to think, to regroup, and to create some sense of understanding from the discussion. Am I the only one to feel this way?
Pushing through the door to the parking lot, I see my car and slowly wade past the other cars with a mind full of chaos. I unlock my door and slide behind the steering wheel. For a moment my forehead rests in my hands then I reach forward and start the engine. I drive through winding streets, stopping and starting as the traffic lights demand. Fingers clench and unclench the steering wheel as the car moves toward home. Gradually my thoughts coalesce. A pattern emerges and my breathing returns to in..out..in..out. I am ready to speak out. Unfortunately, the class has ended and the opportunity has passed.
Briefly, I think about other students in my class and realize that a number of them were also silent and wonder how they experienced their silence.
Reflecting on the Anecdote:
Lived space (spatiality):
· I sit in class, listening to the discussion developing around me.
· The instructor stands at the front of the class, gaze settling on raised hands, in turn, granting each student silent permission to add their thoughts to the discussion…
· My voice screams through my mind,
· Her statement is met with nods and smiles from others.
Lived body (corporeality):
· Quickly my glance slides over the students.
· My gaze anchors to the smooth surface of the table top in front of me.
· A rapid tingle bolts across my skin and my breathing turns from a smooth flow in…out…in…out, to stunted breaths.
· My stomach rolls and the recently enjoyed muffin threatens to make an unwanted appearance.
· Head bowed, I stumble down the hallway, grasping my book bag. My mind buzzes, struggling to make sense of the class discussion. Fractured images collide, bounce and skitter in all directions. Mists of thoughts swirl, refusing structure.
Lived time (temporality:
· In a flash, memories crowd my mind.
· My senses fill with the sights and sounds of a long ago class room.
· I see my car and slowly wade past the other cars with a mind full of chaos.
· For a moment my forehead rests in my hands then I reach forward and start the engine.
· I drive through winding streets, stopping and starting as the traffic lights demand.
· Fingers clench and unclench the steering wheel as the car moves toward home.
· Gradually my thoughts coalesce.
· …the opportunity has passed.
Themes Pulled from the Anecdote:
Isolation is one theme that can be pulled from this anecdote and I believe is most apparent in the following:
· I sit in class, listening to the discussion developing around me.
· My gaze anchors to the smooth surface of the table top in front of me.
· “Am I the only one to think that not all teachers respect their students?”
· I steadfastly watch my desktop. I continue to hope for some sign of disagreement. It does not happen
· Head bowed, I stumble down the hallway, grasping my book bag.
Although I have identified the parts of the anecdote that I believe correspond to some of the existentials and a basic theme, I realize that there is much more work to be done to put it in to paragraph form and develop a flow. I feel that this is an improvement over the first try.
