The Difference a Year Makes
The biggest challenge a first-year ACE teacher faces is their own confidence. Upon entering the program, we are already armed with enough content-knowledge to teach our respective subjects. We also have a surprising amount of pedagogical-knowledge after only one summer, which is a testament to the ACE faculty and staff to know exactly what a first-year needs to enter a classroom. Unfortunately, we are understandably burdened by a large amount of self-doubt.
In my case, a recent lesson brought to mind the difference between my first-year and second-year. For my unit on momentum, I had to cover the impulse-momentum theorem: a force applied over a time will cause a change in momentum. My first year, I came up with plenty of good examples of this: skateboarding, hitting a baseball with a bat, and catching a water balloon. Water balloons! The perfect example of this concept. Those who win water balloons tosses know that you will have a better chance of winning if you cradle the balloon upon catching it. You are increasing the contact time, thus applying a smaller force to the balloon and decreasing the possibility of it popping. What a great example! And yet, in my first year, all I could think about was the logistical nightmare of taking students outside: what if they throw balloons at each other? What if they just run as soon as we are out the door? What if I can never find them again once they run? What if they run into the principal as they are running? What if the principal knows I am responsible for that student, or, more accurately, irresponsible? Needless to say, I used it as an example in class for five minutes and moved on from there, safe in the confines of the classroom.
When my second year rolled around, I began thinking about the balloons again. I couldn't pass up this opportunity. I had enough experience to know that students don't run away the minute they go outside. I also had enough experience to know that if they did and the principal found them, he would probably discipline the student way worse than me. So, I took the step and went outside. And the difference in the two years was immediately apparent. My students were able to have conversations I previously had not had in past classes, because they now had a concrete understanding of the topic. And I had confidence.
To attribute the difference in my second year to solely confidence would be a mistake. I have learned about development, differentiation, modeling, and many more pedagogically relevant strategies. But, honestly, I have found that the confidence to execute properly has gone the farthest. It has given me the ability to instruct my students in better ways, to interpret the content better, and, of course, to wear hideously mismatched colors at the student-faculty basketball game.