LEARN NC

3.4 Who's holding the pencil? And did anybody learn?

Originally posted January 29, 2006

By Kristi Johnson Smith

Years ago, before much of my “official” teacher training, I worked as a Homework Helper at the public library. The city government created my position because it recognized that a large number of students, particularly elementary school children, were instructed by working parents to go straight to the library after school. These parents, many of whom wanted a safe environment for their kids but could not afford to leave work early or purchase private afternoon care, placed their trust in the library’s reputation as a orderly environment. My job was to maintain that order among the children who arrived each day, and to encourage them to use their after-school time wisely by offering to help them with their homework.

Over the course of several months, I came to know the regulars. I also interacted with their parents, who would call and ask to speak to the children (making sure they had arrived safely), and then pick those children up as soon as they were able to leave work.

I took the job because I believed in the city’s mission, and because I needed money to help cover expenses while I was applying to an official graduate school of education. I thought that I would have to wait until arriving at that “higher institution” or into a “real classroom” to gain true insights into child development and instructional method. Little did I know how much interacting with those children and the library staff would teach me, if I were willing to learn.

I remember one lesson in particular. It came in the form of a statement by a grandmotherly figure who worked at the library’s circulation center. She would greet the children as they entered each day and always asked them if they had a lot of homework. And if things were slow in the late afternoons, she would sometimes sit at our unofficial homework tables simply to encourage the children and to observe. She never interrupted, insisting that she was “no teacher,” but she liked to watch as I worked. She saw me draw figures to help the younger kids learn their numbers. She saw me sketch pictures to help others add and subtract. Many times, she saw me revise essays by scratching out sentences or writing down correct spellings. She never said anything, until one day, after work, when I asked what she thought about our after school program. At first, she appeared hesitant, but then she replied.

“I don’t know much about teaching, but I guess I have noticed one thing,” she said, almost in a whisper. “You know how sometimes, when a child asks a question, you take their pencil to help show them what they should be writing…”

“Yes?” I encouraged her to continue.

“Well,” she said, “to me, it seems like if you’re holding their pencil, they’re less likely to learn.”

Helping or showing?

The impact of her insight was incredible. All at once, I began to see my entire approach to “helping” in an entirely new light. I had been showing, not questioning or guiding. My first impulse, every time a student asked for help, was to take their pencil and begin drawing, correcting or outlining a process. My actions transformed each struggling student into a passive observer. I then asked those passive observers to watch me and learn.

I am not suggesting that showing a student how to do something is always a bad approach to answering a question. I am simply encouraging you to be conscious of what the students are doing while you respond. How often do you find yourself holding their pencil? Do you leave them as soon as the explanation is rendered and the pencil returned? Are you doing the work for them, under the guise of “teaching”? If so, how do you make sure they have learned?

Since hearing the librarian’s words, I have made a much more conscious effort to provide examples while insisting that my students follow along, then do their own work under my observation. I still show, but I also listen, question, guide, and insist that they show what they have gained from the experience.

That interaction with the wise librarian also taught me to solicit feedback from anyone who knows me, my students, or has experience with children or education. In addition to reminding me that I must be conscious of how I am assisting my students, her words remind me of the amazing insights others are willing to share with me, if I am simply willing to ask, listen and learn.