Teaching Self-Evaluation
I had to write this self-evaluation up prior to a meeting with my boss to discuss my teaching. I spent a couple of hours on it, so I thought I'd post it here, too. Read away if you're interested.
Strengths as a GTA:
Problem or failure I have learned from:
As mentioned above, one of the ongoing issues for me is imposing discipline. Because I value so highly having a classroom that is open and friendly and that allows students to say what they think without fear of reprisal, I hesitate to bring negativity to the classroom, even sometimes when it is warranted.
This has come up in different ways in two recent classes. In one class, the overall environment was positive and the students clearly felt very free to speak out, discussing with me and (better yet) with each other. However, there was one student who was louder than the other and who frequently moved the discussion in unproductive directions. He was having fun, but it was starting to become a problem because his unfocused contributions damaged the discussion the rest of us were having. I hesitated for a few weeks, allowing it to go on and trying to contain the distracting elements of his contributions by simply reguiding the discussion when the problem arose. I didn’t want to ask him not to talk at all because 1) that goes against my philosophy and I fear it will discourage others from talking freely and 2) because many of his comments were quite good and I didn’t want to lose those by asking him to refrain from other comments. Basically, I was afraid of damaging the camaraderie of the classroom and of hurting his feelings. Ultimately, he said something that took the distraction one step further (I can’t remember specifically what, though I think it was a comment about me) and I had to say something. I told the class we were pausing the discussion to deal with a specific issue of proper discussion etiquette and asked this student point-blank to work on keeping his comments focused and appropriate to the situation. I said that I appreciated his willingness to contribute, but also noted that sometimes that willingness caused problems. I stated that he was not the only student to do this, but that he was the loudest and most recent perpetrator. Then we went back to the discussion we’d been having. It worked well in this case because the class was good-natured, as was the student I specifically lectured. His interruptions and comments were not meant to be harmful or insulting; they were simply attempts to participate and have fun. Once he understood what I needed him to do, he did it.
The other instance did not work out so well. In the other class, I had two or three students who sat in the back and talked throughout the class, no matter what the rest of us were doing. I did occasionally ask them to be quiet (the class as a whole, that is, as it was a loud class overall) and do their work and I tried to reinforce those requests by making eye contact and gesturing to these specific students while others worked. In this case, the interruptions were deliberate and hostile. I never addressed them more individually or directly in front of the class in the first few weeks and their interruptions became more and more blatant. The class was going so badly as a whole that I feared an attempt to discipline one or two students would cause me to lose my very thin grasp on my composure, so I kept putting it off. I waited too long and eventually felt that for me to make a big deal out of their behavior halfway through the semester was too little, too late. There were only four or five students who really wanted to learn and only three or four who really wanted to cause problems, but the others were on the fence. I feared losing the middle students by coming down too hard on the troublemakers or, more so, by losing my cool, so I said nothing and just tried to ignore those students as best I could. Of course, because they never listened or did their work, they failed my class, but I still feel like they won that battle within the class. The kind of intervention I successfully mounted in the first class would not have worked, but something was necessary. What I have learned from this is the necessity of identifying and counteracting such trouble students early in the semester, making a point to let them know they will not get away with such behavior. I’m still working on the skill of identifying them.
Success story about my teaching:
I always feel like my successes are smaller and less dramatic than my failures. They come more regularly, though. Students report after taking my class that they enjoy writing or feel more confident in their ability to communicate. And after my literature classes, many students report getting more out of literature, more information and understanding, as well as more enjoyment. That is a consistent success story. My favorite comment of this sort was received a few semesters ago. I ran into a girl who had been in my 1301 class the previous semester and was now enrolled in 1302. I asked her how things were going, how she liked her 1302 class. Her response was that it was easy. “After your class,” she said, “this is a piece of cake. Your class was like boot camp.” Part complaint, part backhanded compliment, this comment highlights the kind of success I like to see. She resisted the work in my class, but she benefited from it despite her resistance.
It’s of course also a joy to help students say what they want to say. Working with students to clearly and fully express their ideas and seeing the look of revelation on their faces when they get it, when they finally understand how to say it clearly, how to tie these different ideas together, this is success of another sort, one more quickly recognized by the students.
I see my teaching in 1301 as an introduction to college, a bridge between high school and upper division courses. With this in mind, my classes are successful when students not only learn the material as individuals but learn to work together, learn to feel comfortable contributing to the group, and learn to contribute to the discourse in useful and relevant ways. As they work together and discuss the issues that arise during the course, many of my students make new friends in 1301 that they take with them after the course ends. As they are asked to participate in whole class discussions, they are led to feel comfortable by my active inclusion of all those who show any inclination at all to participate. Some students, of course, shout out their opinions for all to hear; they need no help learning to participate. Others, however, have great ideas and opinions; they just lack the courage or aggressiveness to put them out there in a roomful of strangers. I can help them. I try to be particularly aware of their gestures and facial expressions in order to include them, so much so that after one semester, one of those typically quiet but thoughtful students remarked that she felt more included in this class than she had in any other because she just had to look like she had something to say and I would prompt her for her opinion. Gradually, she became more capable of putting her ideas out there on her own, without my help, because she knew that her opinions would be appreciated. Finally, as my students gain confidence in voicing their opinions, they must learn to make sure their opinions are clear and useful. They learn in my class to expect their opinions to be welcomed and heard, but they also learn to expect their opinions to be questioned. “Why?” or “Why’s that?” are the most frequently asked questions in the class. By the end of the semester, they are more able to explore why they believe what they believe and to explain it to others. I want to encourage communication, sharing, and growth, but not at the expense of critical thought. I want to encourage critical thought alongside personal growth. Better yet, I want to encourage critical thought as a means for growth. The structure of my class (which begins with my students and their beliefs and works out from there and into the broader world and others’ beliefs and ideas) and my attitude toward and relationship with my students allows this to happen for those students who really participate in the course. That’s the best success story.
Apparently, I went above and beyond the call of duty. She said she hadn't gotten any other self-evaluations that were so thorough and nicely done. (Yay for overachieving!)
Strengths as a GTA:
- I am flexible with students and with lesson plans.
- I am able to help students feel comfortable in the classroom environment to speak, ask questions, and discuss with each other and myself.
- I am able to help students feel comfortable in their writing for me.
- I focus on providing specific feedback for students as well as overall evaluation.
- I balance honesty with my students (being straightforward about my beliefs and positions) with allowing them to feel free and un-judged, unafraid to disagree with me.
- I honestly want to know what my students think and why they think it.
- I do a lot of pre-semester planning, including developing a detailed syllabus.
- I demand a lot of my students.
- I work with my students to make it possible for them to meet my high expectations.
- I genuinely like my students.
- I sometimes have difficulty drawing out truly silent classes. I don’t want to call on people and risk embarrassing students or making them feel forced to speak, nor do I want to rely solely on groupwork and individual writing exercises. I’m still trying to figure this one out.
- I occasionally have difficulty imposing discipline on an unruly class.
- I genuinely like my students and this sometimes makes it difficult to impose discipline or, more precisely, makes it difficult to accurate determine when certain kinds of discipline are necessary (see below).
- I sometimes have a long turnaround time for grading.
Problem or failure I have learned from:
As mentioned above, one of the ongoing issues for me is imposing discipline. Because I value so highly having a classroom that is open and friendly and that allows students to say what they think without fear of reprisal, I hesitate to bring negativity to the classroom, even sometimes when it is warranted.
This has come up in different ways in two recent classes. In one class, the overall environment was positive and the students clearly felt very free to speak out, discussing with me and (better yet) with each other. However, there was one student who was louder than the other and who frequently moved the discussion in unproductive directions. He was having fun, but it was starting to become a problem because his unfocused contributions damaged the discussion the rest of us were having. I hesitated for a few weeks, allowing it to go on and trying to contain the distracting elements of his contributions by simply reguiding the discussion when the problem arose. I didn’t want to ask him not to talk at all because 1) that goes against my philosophy and I fear it will discourage others from talking freely and 2) because many of his comments were quite good and I didn’t want to lose those by asking him to refrain from other comments. Basically, I was afraid of damaging the camaraderie of the classroom and of hurting his feelings. Ultimately, he said something that took the distraction one step further (I can’t remember specifically what, though I think it was a comment about me) and I had to say something. I told the class we were pausing the discussion to deal with a specific issue of proper discussion etiquette and asked this student point-blank to work on keeping his comments focused and appropriate to the situation. I said that I appreciated his willingness to contribute, but also noted that sometimes that willingness caused problems. I stated that he was not the only student to do this, but that he was the loudest and most recent perpetrator. Then we went back to the discussion we’d been having. It worked well in this case because the class was good-natured, as was the student I specifically lectured. His interruptions and comments were not meant to be harmful or insulting; they were simply attempts to participate and have fun. Once he understood what I needed him to do, he did it.
The other instance did not work out so well. In the other class, I had two or three students who sat in the back and talked throughout the class, no matter what the rest of us were doing. I did occasionally ask them to be quiet (the class as a whole, that is, as it was a loud class overall) and do their work and I tried to reinforce those requests by making eye contact and gesturing to these specific students while others worked. In this case, the interruptions were deliberate and hostile. I never addressed them more individually or directly in front of the class in the first few weeks and their interruptions became more and more blatant. The class was going so badly as a whole that I feared an attempt to discipline one or two students would cause me to lose my very thin grasp on my composure, so I kept putting it off. I waited too long and eventually felt that for me to make a big deal out of their behavior halfway through the semester was too little, too late. There were only four or five students who really wanted to learn and only three or four who really wanted to cause problems, but the others were on the fence. I feared losing the middle students by coming down too hard on the troublemakers or, more so, by losing my cool, so I said nothing and just tried to ignore those students as best I could. Of course, because they never listened or did their work, they failed my class, but I still feel like they won that battle within the class. The kind of intervention I successfully mounted in the first class would not have worked, but something was necessary. What I have learned from this is the necessity of identifying and counteracting such trouble students early in the semester, making a point to let them know they will not get away with such behavior. I’m still working on the skill of identifying them.
Success story about my teaching:
I always feel like my successes are smaller and less dramatic than my failures. They come more regularly, though. Students report after taking my class that they enjoy writing or feel more confident in their ability to communicate. And after my literature classes, many students report getting more out of literature, more information and understanding, as well as more enjoyment. That is a consistent success story. My favorite comment of this sort was received a few semesters ago. I ran into a girl who had been in my 1301 class the previous semester and was now enrolled in 1302. I asked her how things were going, how she liked her 1302 class. Her response was that it was easy. “After your class,” she said, “this is a piece of cake. Your class was like boot camp.” Part complaint, part backhanded compliment, this comment highlights the kind of success I like to see. She resisted the work in my class, but she benefited from it despite her resistance.
It’s of course also a joy to help students say what they want to say. Working with students to clearly and fully express their ideas and seeing the look of revelation on their faces when they get it, when they finally understand how to say it clearly, how to tie these different ideas together, this is success of another sort, one more quickly recognized by the students.
I see my teaching in 1301 as an introduction to college, a bridge between high school and upper division courses. With this in mind, my classes are successful when students not only learn the material as individuals but learn to work together, learn to feel comfortable contributing to the group, and learn to contribute to the discourse in useful and relevant ways. As they work together and discuss the issues that arise during the course, many of my students make new friends in 1301 that they take with them after the course ends. As they are asked to participate in whole class discussions, they are led to feel comfortable by my active inclusion of all those who show any inclination at all to participate. Some students, of course, shout out their opinions for all to hear; they need no help learning to participate. Others, however, have great ideas and opinions; they just lack the courage or aggressiveness to put them out there in a roomful of strangers. I can help them. I try to be particularly aware of their gestures and facial expressions in order to include them, so much so that after one semester, one of those typically quiet but thoughtful students remarked that she felt more included in this class than she had in any other because she just had to look like she had something to say and I would prompt her for her opinion. Gradually, she became more capable of putting her ideas out there on her own, without my help, because she knew that her opinions would be appreciated. Finally, as my students gain confidence in voicing their opinions, they must learn to make sure their opinions are clear and useful. They learn in my class to expect their opinions to be welcomed and heard, but they also learn to expect their opinions to be questioned. “Why?” or “Why’s that?” are the most frequently asked questions in the class. By the end of the semester, they are more able to explore why they believe what they believe and to explain it to others. I want to encourage communication, sharing, and growth, but not at the expense of critical thought. I want to encourage critical thought alongside personal growth. Better yet, I want to encourage critical thought as a means for growth. The structure of my class (which begins with my students and their beliefs and works out from there and into the broader world and others’ beliefs and ideas) and my attitude toward and relationship with my students allows this to happen for those students who really participate in the course. That’s the best success story.
Apparently, I went above and beyond the call of duty. She said she hadn't gotten any other self-evaluations that were so thorough and nicely done. (Yay for overachieving!)