Structure? What structure?

[From Sam]

To kick off my contribution to the TaL blog, here's a teaching anecdote from one of the interminable introduction sessions I've had to sit through in preparation for my job as a university seminar tutor. Bear in mind that both of these are trainers of many years' experience, both in the classroom and in conveying their knowledge to fellow professionals.

Facilitator #1, brandishing a to-the-minute schedule of the current session, which has been distributed to all trainees: 'We may have been derailed, timing-wise, but at least I have a plan. If I didn't, I'd be lying on the floor in a gibbering heap by now!'

Facilitator #2, on the subject of planning lessons: 'I never do any preparation, anymore; I just take one or two questions into each seminar to prompt discussion when/if things dry up a bit.'

BBC-fashion, there are absolutely no prizes for guessing at the type preferences of these two individuals, certainly in terms of preferences for Organisation and Structure versus Go witht the Flow...What is interesting, however, is that I get the feeling (from relating to him in both professional and social contexts) that #2 is rather more Structured (J) than he cares to admit -- his excessive Go with the Flow (P) is either a fake projected image of himself in order to convey authority to students and fellow teachers, or a learned behaviour to deal with the specifics of HE teaching. Probably a bit of both.

Let us know if you have any anecdotes of your own on the teaching/training experience, or any similar observations about altering your natural preferences.

Goodbye to "should"

Just received a copy of this poem. I love it. It could have been written for me.

Ros Barber - Thank you!

How to Leave the World that Worships should

Let faxes butter-curl on dusty shelves.
Let junkmail build its castles in the hush
of other people’s halls. Let deadlines burst
and flash like glorious fireworks somewhere else.
As hours go softly by, let others curse
the roads where distant drivers queue like sheep.
Let e-mails fly like panicked, tiny birds.
Let phones, unanswered, ring themselves to sleep.

Above, the sky unrolls its telegram,
immense and wordless, simply understood:
you’ve made your mark like birdtracks in the sand -
now make the air in your lungs your livelihood.
See how each wave arrives at last to heave
itself upon the beach and vanish. Breathe.