Mr. Hoggatt's Teaching Philosophy
What do parents and students expect from Mr. Hoggatt?
Will he be strict? Will he be mean?
Will he be compassionate? Will he be soft?
Will he push too hard? Will he require too much?
Will he be strict? Will he be mean?
Will he be compassionate? Will he be soft?
Will he push too hard? Will he require too much?
Society is a single generation from failure, and family is the foundation of society. It is painful to realize I am the only positive adult male influence in some students’ lives. My shoulders lower when I carry such a burden. In a meeting, someone stated that poor home situations degrade a school’s ability to help a child feel safe, and that we can’t do anything to improve the condition at home. I responded that we can do everything to improve the homes of the future. Future family leaders are in our schools today. Society may be a generation from failure, but it’s also only a generation from glorious success. As an educator, I am part of that success.
Naïve educators, parents, and observers also misconceive that light bulbs instantly illuminate over the heads of students. The fact is some students have no light switches at all. Instead, they have dimmer switches that can be turned slowly to brighten understanding. For others, an educator rips through drywall to find some spark to connect to their bulbs. It is a skilled craft, requiring conscientious teachers to be scientific artisans.
Many do not fully appreciate the boldness of this last statement. It is not a teacher’s job to make learning so fun that students don’t realize they’re learning. I have heard myself say this, only to quickly retract it because it is blatantly untrue. Students must feel the learning process in order to appreciate it. To promote lifelong learning in ourselves, we must experience a collaborative struggle with material and process. We feel the exultation of success only when we exert ourselves in such a fashion. It’s similar to mountain climbing. The view from the peak is a by-product of effort; the real reward is the feeling that results from achieving a difficult climb.
Naïve educators, parents, and observers also misconceive that light bulbs instantly illuminate over the heads of students. The fact is some students have no light switches at all. Instead, they have dimmer switches that can be turned slowly to brighten understanding. For others, an educator rips through drywall to find some spark to connect to their bulbs. It is a skilled craft, requiring conscientious teachers to be scientific artisans.
Many do not fully appreciate the boldness of this last statement. It is not a teacher’s job to make learning so fun that students don’t realize they’re learning. I have heard myself say this, only to quickly retract it because it is blatantly untrue. Students must feel the learning process in order to appreciate it. To promote lifelong learning in ourselves, we must experience a collaborative struggle with material and process. We feel the exultation of success only when we exert ourselves in such a fashion. It’s similar to mountain climbing. The view from the peak is a by-product of effort; the real reward is the feeling that results from achieving a difficult climb.
Kites need restraint in order to fly;
without string, a kite falls to the ground.
The impeded stream is the one that sings*;
with no rocks or diversions, a stream loses its beauty.
without string, a kite falls to the ground.
The impeded stream is the one that sings*;
with no rocks or diversions, a stream loses its beauty.
If I want students to fly and sing, I do not remove the rocks and string. I do not hand my students information freely; together, they wrestle with the material and process of learning, discover innovative ways of thinking, and find unexpected solutions. I do not assess students using rote questions; instead they plan procedures, synthesize knowledge, and explain their reasoning. I refuse to treat students like helpless infants; instead we have honest, respectful discussions, unimpeded by textbooks and time restrictions. It’s real, relevant, and captivatingly interesting. Students appreciate creative efforts to make education mean more than school. They aren’t preparing for future classes; they are preparing for life. Too often, students read, memorize, and forget; in our classroom, students gather information, manipulate data, and construct towers, bridges, and systems to serve future communities.
Life does not expose itself one isolated topic at a time, changing every 20 minutes and breaking on a regular schedule. Life is multi-dimensional, rocketing toward us at a million miles an hour, with remarkable passion and mystery. That’s why we shatter the traditional mold of school. We go outside; we use real tools; we surround ourselves with exciting, real-life scenarios. Why add columns of irrelevant numbers when we can engage similar skills to verify the cost of damage caused by a Mississippi River flood?
Why simply read about natural habitats when we can craft our own deciduous forest or wetland in the classroom? Why study Westward Expansion from encyclopedia when we can measure and pack our own wagons for the journey? Why listen to lectures on the Civil Rights Movement or the Trail of Tears when we can recreate the experiences ourselves? My students search for ways to apply what they learn. They mix reading and math together with science, blend in some history, and sprinkle it with art and music. They know life’s recipe demands solutions borne from experience and diversity. They become better scientists by improving their reading; they become better planners and critical thinkers by developing algebra skills; and they strengthen their families and associations by understanding relationships.
In our distinctive classroom, when we track Bigfoot or conduct rescue efforts after a destructive earthquake, we learn. When we conduct archeological digs to uncover famous Missouri places or carry flashlights into the dark recesses of a simulated cave, we grow. When we collect nature specimens, build and convey a museum of famous people, or display our living webpage of historical events, we cultivate thought processes and expand interests. Our class is uniquely motivating and profoundly dissimilar from traditional expectations of school. Learning is fresh and exciting.
Life does not expose itself one isolated topic at a time, changing every 20 minutes and breaking on a regular schedule. Life is multi-dimensional, rocketing toward us at a million miles an hour, with remarkable passion and mystery. That’s why we shatter the traditional mold of school. We go outside; we use real tools; we surround ourselves with exciting, real-life scenarios. Why add columns of irrelevant numbers when we can engage similar skills to verify the cost of damage caused by a Mississippi River flood?
Why simply read about natural habitats when we can craft our own deciduous forest or wetland in the classroom? Why study Westward Expansion from encyclopedia when we can measure and pack our own wagons for the journey? Why listen to lectures on the Civil Rights Movement or the Trail of Tears when we can recreate the experiences ourselves? My students search for ways to apply what they learn. They mix reading and math together with science, blend in some history, and sprinkle it with art and music. They know life’s recipe demands solutions borne from experience and diversity. They become better scientists by improving their reading; they become better planners and critical thinkers by developing algebra skills; and they strengthen their families and associations by understanding relationships.
In our distinctive classroom, when we track Bigfoot or conduct rescue efforts after a destructive earthquake, we learn. When we conduct archeological digs to uncover famous Missouri places or carry flashlights into the dark recesses of a simulated cave, we grow. When we collect nature specimens, build and convey a museum of famous people, or display our living webpage of historical events, we cultivate thought processes and expand interests. Our class is uniquely motivating and profoundly dissimilar from traditional expectations of school. Learning is fresh and exciting.
At the end of the day,
I enjoy the satisfying fatigue that results
from empowering young gentlemen and ladies
with the mettle for success.
I enjoy the satisfying fatigue that results
from empowering young gentlemen and ladies
with the mettle for success.
*from Collected Poems by Wendell Berry, 1987
