Measuring Oz?

Given the private nature of education today, it's difficult to share a specific, although very private, triumph without revealing the identity of the student involved.  So, as an alternative, I share my greatest confession -- which is also my greatest accomplishment.  (Or, at least I think so!) 

Quite frankly, I answer this prompt under protest -- or maybe I just answer this prompt because I feel obligated to do so, while still feeling that sharing a big accomplishment that no one knows about makes no sense at all.  If I've accomplished something big and kept it a secret, it's probably because I wanted it to remain private.   So, I do what I can to play within the parameters established, and guard my words...

 
Today's Te@chthought challenge....

September 9

Write about one of your biggest accomplishments in teaching that no one knows about.

Shhhhh.  It's a secret.   (Although I know that least a few of my present, and many of my former, students learners  read this blog....).  

My biggest accomplishment is that I have managed to do my job, day in and day out, for more than fifteen years knowing that I am less intelligent (according to the fine Wechsler's folks) than many of the students.  It is true. I know most of their IQs, and I know my own.  I also have a strong advantage that can make me seem more intelligent than I am.  (It's called Life Experience.)

I remember being tested by the guidance counselors in 6th grade.  A whole bunch of my friends and I were screened.  Imagine being asked "What two countries baaaardddder the United States?", in an intense southern drawl?  Hmmm.  Who do we barter with?  England?  Certainly not Russia.  It was 1972.  Lunchtime that day was crazy, as everyone randomly traded the questions that had challenged them.  By lunchtime we all knew that turpentine was made from pine trees.  We had cracked the dialect of the southern people and had quickly identified Canada and Mexico.  And the whole bunch of us got to be good friends as we were grouped together in Honors courses for the remainder of our days.  Some of my brilliant friends have gone on to do amazing things.  (One became the first female president of Lafayette College!)  Every single one of us inspires other people.  We hope.

I began teaching in 1999.  I quickly established myself, as many of you know, as TEACHER OF THE GIFTED, not THE GIFTED TEACHER as a means to defend my actions against all possible stupidity that might fall from my lips or fingers in an attempt to communicate.   I ventured down to the University of Pennsylvania to complete a Leadership Certificate in Gifted Education, driving 90 miles each way once a week to meet with other Teachers of the Gifted, and two amazing professors, realizing that I felt that I knew less than I thought with each passing class.  I learned a tremendous amount about gifted kids, but I learned more about myself.   My next graduate school experience took me all the way to Connecticut.  

UCONN may be known for basketball the world over.  Not enough people known UCONN as I do.  I spent three glorious summers there working with the most amazing people I've ever met from all over the world.  I would do the doctorate in a heartbeat, if only I could figure out how to live in Connecticut for a year.  (And how to face another round of Research Statistics -- but that's a whole different story.)  I have roommates from UCONN in the far corners of the US -- one in Texas, one in Washington state, and one in Cambridge at MIT, who I speak to on a fairly regular basis.  We are our own sorority of sorts, as the grand dames of the Three Summers program.  Each and every one of these ladies makes me a better teacher,  and each and every one of them helps me to maintain my facade as Teacher of the Gifted.  The professors in the Educational Psychology Department are beyond measure.  My greatest professional accomplishment is my master's from UCONN - that, almost everybody knows.

I love my job.  I will do my job as long as I love it, and not a second longer.  It isn't fair to me, and it isn't fair to my learners.  Meanwhile, I keep my true persona on the down low, hoping that I can continue to inspire, with no one looking behind the curtain to see who is really in charge of Oz.

#reflectiveteacher