Why student teaching can be so emotionally fraught
In which I consider one of two problems with student teaching
I spent years as a teacher educator for pre-service teachers. I taught education courses and/or supervised student teachers at Stanford University, Dominican University, St. Mary’s College, Connecticut College, and Bennington College. I left that occupation behind in 2005, when I switched from straight teacher education to cockeyed psychodynamic teacher support, which is what I do now with TTE.
But the memories of teacher preparation have been revived by my daughter, who is currently in a MAT program and has been doing her student teaching stints this year.
In conversations with my daughter, through the lens of psychodynamics, a couple issues have emerged for me.
One. The whole student teaching thing actually breaks two interesting laws of healthy relationships.
Two. Classroom observations are devilishly difficult to do well.
This post is about Issue #1. The podcast episode that’s dropping in a couple days is about Issue #2.
Two laws of healthy relationships
The first law broken by the standard student teaching arrangement is Thou Shalt Not Breach Others’ Boundaries. The second law is Thou Shalt Not Triangulate.
Let me explain.
For those who don’t know or can’t remember (because you’ve blocked it out), student teaching involves getting assigned to (or finding) a veteran teacher who is willing to allow a student teacher into their classroom every day for a semester or so to observe, collaborate, and eventually take over teaching for a time.
Consider what this means for the veteran teacher, or the Cooperating Teacher (CT). In the fall, the CT is forging crucial relationships with their charges. This is when the classroom system coheres: when routines are established, norms are reinforced, chaos is abolished and order begins to (or is supposed to) reign. It’s when the teacher’s authority and mutual trust between teacher and students emerge naturally (one hopes). It’s when the membrane that defines each particular classroom organism is established. The classroom door closes: The outside world with all its distracting demands is shut out and the inside world begins to hum with its own personality and energy.
In the spring — unless it’s a whole new semester, in which case it’s like the fall all over again — classroom life has achieved an equilibrium. Possibly a tentative one. Possibly a volatile one. Possibly a highly satisfying one. In any case, the CT and the students have co-created a sense of each other and how they all work together. The classroom organism has a life of its own.
Now.
Enter a bright-eyed, enthusiastic, often young student teacher. Emphasis on the word “enter.” This student teacher walks into the CT’s classroom, blows a hole in the membrane, and introduces a whole new unpredictable element.
Definition of boundary breach.
And the CT’s job is to help this new element win the students’ hearts. Succeed at planning and implementing instruction. Develop a sense of authority independent of the CT’s. Learn the CT’s ropes but also flex their own creative muscles. Be the CT but also be themselves.
In short, the classroom now has three vertices: the CT, the students, and the student teacher. This is what I call Triangulation.
Triangles do not always foster the stablest of dynamics.
Let’s say the CT envies the student teacher’s rapport with the students. Or resents the student teacher’s confidence. Or fears the student teacher’s up-to-the-minute knowledge of educational theory or practices. Or feels anxious about their students’ academic progress or about the shredding of beautifully designed lessons at the hands of a novice teacher. Or hates giving up control. Or believes the student teacher is not respectful or submissive or subordinate enough to the CT’s experience and authority.
Or just feels invaded.
That’s where the triangulation comes in. The CT feels stressed about having a second adult in the room who is a budding teacher but also a rookie learner. The CT is constantly thinking about the pressure, which rests totally on her shoulders, to keep the students learning at an appropriate pace. But the CT cannot control the student teacher’s teaching. Which means the CT cannot control the learning outcomes. Which means the CT does shit, like interrupting the student teacher when they’re teaching, like criticizing anything the student teacher does that isn’t what the CT would do, like leaving the student teacher completely alone with the class, like taking over the class when the going gets tough (in the CT’s mind) to alleviate the CT’s anxiety — which creates anxiety in the student teacher.
Nice!
It is no wonder that student teachers can feel intimidated, uncertain, nervous, misunderstood, unseen, or condescended to by their CTs. It is no wonder that CTs can be overly critical or dismissive or controlling of their apprentices. The CT is ultimately responsible for their students’ learning but has to watch someone else teach them. Is this not a recipe for anxiety? Is anxiety not fuel for dysfunction?
When and where do CTs and student teachers learn how to manage the inevitable relational tensions inherent in this triangular relationship birthed in a major boundary breach? Ummm. Nowhere. They’re just expected to push through, figure stuff out as they go. Kinda like the way teachers of all stripes are expected to just deal when relational tensions arise with their students.
It’s fascinating — for me, anyway — to reconsider the standard student teaching arrangement as a weirdly unconscious setup that invites dysfunction and therefore can handicap student teachers’ learning.
Surely there’s a better way.
I would love to hear what you think. How was your student teaching stint? If it went smoothly, why? What were the conditions? If it went badly, what happened? What would have made the experience better for you?
And, if you know a student teacher right this minute, please share this post. I’d love to hear from them!
As always, thanks so much for reading.