What DOES make a teacher?

Man Sitting in Chair, Legs Crossed (2021)

Man Sitting in Chair, Legs Crossed (2021)

Being a good teacher is like being a good architect.

BY JULIAN ARWEN

IMAGE BY PATSY WISNIEWSKI


You are a Teacher

You stand at the front.

They look to you for guidance.

No pressure here, right?

 

Are you into it?

Are you engaged with your job?

The students can tell.

 

Of course, it’s your job.

You must do it to be paid.

The sole reason, though?

 

They are not your friends.

Doesn’t mean you’re not friendly.

They are your pupils.

 

They’re not co-workers.

They don’t get paid, though they wish.

You should be paid more.

 

No subordinates.

No fists of iron shall stay.

No respect that way.

 

What is the key here?

What’s the relationship here,

Master and student?

 

You’re an expert here.

You lead them to victory.

Yet they also lead.

 

What DOES make a teacher?

In my experience, both the best and the worst teachers took their roles seriously. However, given that they fluctuated in quality, what that means may vary from person to person. A dedicated teacher can give the greatest experiences or the worst possible time you’ve ever had in a learning environment, tainting your view of it forever. They can either inspire a student or beat them down. Often, the latter is excused as “building discipline,” but this is tricky. To build it, one must understand that it is based on respect, not power. So, the question I have is: what does make a good teacher?

 

An architect builds.

First, they invest in good land

For a foundation.

 

In high school, I was blessed with a fantastic teacher for one of my classes. His name was Mr. Chandler. He came from what we shall call the “English faculty,” where most students say the best teachers are located. During my first classes with him, my confidence was low. One day, I expressed my worry to him. He then knelt and told me not to worry, as my marks were a lot higher than I believed they were. Sure enough, when I got my midterm marks back, they were stellar. He taught me to give myself more credit when I unreasonably felt that I hadn’t done enough. He was passionate about whatever subject he was teaching. Often, he would genuinely ask the class if he was boring us with his “rambling.” Every time he asked this, we all greatly insisted we weren’t bored. How could we be? The way he described his topic with detail and fineness made whatever he was talking about extremely engrossing. He seemed to have a genuine interest in his work, and that feeling was infectious.

 

An architect builds.

They use reliable wood

for a skeleton.

 

When he handed out assignments, Mr. Chandler would make sure the students understood the work. The instructions were delivered in a manner that explained how to accomplish our task without treating us like young children. For example, one of his classes I attended was “War history,” where for half of the classes, we learned ancient historical battles, tactics, armour, and weapons. The other half of the classes were dedicated to learning certain fighting techniques and even weapon usage, such as the tonfa or bo staff. For one assignment we were told to partner up, choreograph our own bo staff fight, and film it to show our work based on what we had learned. He explained the assignment accurately and simply, without going into overt detail. By doing this, it felt less intimidating and far more manageable than some assignments that were given vague, yet needlessly complicated instructions. The teacher told us what he wanted, how to do it, and let us accomplish the task. There were no twisting words to make it sound more complicated than it was. This assignment needed to be delivered in this straightforward, easy to explain way. He expected us to do a simple assignment and understood that by making it sound more complicated or advanced, it would be intimidating or appear more difficult.

 

An architect builds.

He gains the right pipes and wires

For good connections.

 

When you are teaching others, you must not only be confident in your teaching ability but the students’ as well. This is especially true of their ability to teach themselves how to overcome blocks that may be interfering with other assignments. When that happens, it should be celebrated, as it means they can overcome other problems in life through this method. One personal example happened during my creative writing class with a different teacher (whose name I, unfortunately, cannot remember). One of our assignments was to write a slice of life short story. If we so chose, we could submit it to the school’s yearly magazine, Forge. I had difficulty with it since all I wanted to do was sci-fi-related. Seeing something in me, he encouraged me to focus a bit more and try something a bit more grounded. This was around the time of the Twilight craze, which drove me mad — not obsessively, but it annoyed me all the same. I thought “I can write a better love story than this,” and so I did. I was unsure of the quality of my writing and was nervous about my mark. It ended up being the best piece of work during my time in high school. With a near-perfect 99% on this large assignment (only 1 mark redacted for some small spelling errors), my teacher wrote “Julian! You ARE a writer!” What the teacher understood was that if you cultivate your students correctly and encourage them, your efforts will bear fruit. If you treat the students’ work like how a computer marks standardized tests, then any effort gained from the venture will be lifeless, dispassionate, and probably even incorrectly done.

 

An architect builds.

He gets bricks and adhesive

To complete the house.

 

With each teacher I got, I learned more about other people. Some teachers I’ve had were sub-par, constantly irritable. I would later learn that those teachers were facing some sort of hardship or despised their placement. Some teachers seemed a little aloof and unfocused. I would learn these teachers were generally dispassionate about their job for a variety of reasons. A teacher would treat the classroom more like an office workspace. These teachers did the job solely for the paycheck, which is honestly very understandable in a lot of circumstances. The teachers who loved their job were passionate about what they taught, took their work seriously enough, and cared about their pupils in a kind, open minded fashion. On top of being genuinely caring people, these kinds of teachers were good at their jobs because they understood that the student was not in a lower position but was simply someone looking for guidance. Good teachers know how to inform someone without being patronizing or being demeaning. Being a good teacher is like being a good architect: they know that students, like structures, are statements of their ability and the progress of the nation. If you build up your subject right, then its message will last.

 

Here stands a good house.

It’s strong and reliable.

Welcome to your home.

 

END


Julian Arwen is a Humber College student currently enrolled in the journalism advanced diploma program. He enjoys the written works of Mary Shelley and Max Brooks and is a science fiction film fanatic. Having ASD allows Julian to utilize a unique perspective on the world that makes for (what he hopes will be) interesting work.

Image: Patsy Wisniewski, Man Sitting in Chair, Legs Crossed, India ink on watercolour paper, 2021.

Edited for publication by Maureen Cummins, as part of the Creative Book Publishing Program.

HLR Spotlight is a collaboration between the Faculty of Media & Creative Arts and the Faculty of Liberal Arts & Sciences and Innovative Learning at Humber College in Toronto, Ontario. This project is funded by Humber’s Office of Research & Innovation.

Posted on August 23, 2021 .