(More Than) a Few Words from Mr. Bartsch
And now for something somewhat different...
Early in my first year at Glen Urquhart, I ran into a problem. The lessons and projects I had planned for the first trimester were being consumed by my 8th grade Humanities students at an alarmingly quick pace. I had not accounted for the appetite for ideas and challenges that I would come to see as typically GUS. The children took in everything I presented to them, hoarding all the facts and ideas and theories and nonsense I could throw their way. They responded with enthusiasm and a willingness to ‘Trust and Go Forward.’ It was exciting, working together with children. Those first few months set the tone for my entire time at GUS. It was, and has been, something of a mash-up of circus acts: juggler, tightrope acrobat, contortionist, human cannonball, big cat wrangler, ringmaster, clown, quick-change act. This variety has kept me alert to all the vibrancy, joy, and possibility to be found in teaching.
MY PATH TO TEACHING
My path to teaching has been a serpentine one, with stops in the kitchen of a renowned 1980’s Boston restaurant, a New York City bank, and as a contractor on Nantucket and in NYC. For over a decade, I designed and built custom furniture, from a base in Maine.
As time passed, friends became teachers. One became a Waldorf instructor, another an elementary level math teacher, a third an art teacher. I wondered about their choices. As my children grew and started school, their teachers became friends. I wondered some more, about the life of a teacher. I decided to work at an arts camp, the Middlesex School Summer Arts program, teaching woodworking to 7-to-14-year-olds. I loved it — ‘it’ being the excitement the children felt taking on challenges, learning of dormant talents, finding pride in their creation, maturing as they were trusted with authentic exploration (and real tools). My wondering expanded through remembering. There are many teachers I have passed along the way, and some who have never fully left me: one who played with us in spite of bum knees; one who shared the elegance to be found in both Beowulf and sportsmanship; another who despised autocracy, whether found in medieval Europe or his native Haiti; and yet another who shared a love of the Mets and of irony (which is required of all true Mets fans).
Following that first summer (of nine) at MSSA, I enrolled in the Teacher Training Course offered by Shady Hill School, in Cambridge. Concurrently, I was admitted to Tufts University, where I earned a Master’s Degree in Education. Upon graduation from both programs, I joined the faculty of the Pingry School (located in central New Jersey and fated to be confused with the local Pingree), where, for four years, I taught seventh grade history and English. In August of 2011, I began my tenure at GUS.
MY CURRICULUM
At GUS, I have taught Humanities 8, which, at its most stripped-down, means I teach English and history. But it is so much more. I have been afforded the autonomy to create an entire curriculum from the ground up. During a given year, units might include: Immigration to the US from Jamestown to Ellis Island (which concludes with the ‘Tale of the Imagined Immigrant’ project); Roots of the American Revolution (with its ‘books only’ approach to research and complicated flowchain creations); The Pearl; To Kill a Mockingbird; the Big American Map; A Raisin in the Sun; World Geography (including the World Maps); Civics; the United States Constitution; the National Election (in presidential years); Twelve Angry Men; Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar; Poetry — classic, contemporary, and original; and, along with Dawn Southworth, the White Shirt Project. The amount of time devoted to each unit will vary each year, depending on the needs and interests of the class.
MY APPROACH
My approach to teaching is based on posing questions. I want students to feel the challenge of pitting their knowledge, minds, and experiences against the orthodox, the commonplace, and the unknown. I want students to ask questions - of themselves, of me, of nature, of authority, and of society. I want them to learn to evaluate the answers that they hear. I don’t ask them to believe me; I want them to challenge both me and my conclusions, so they are able to competently face the deluge of inputs and sources they are exposed to every day (whether from traditional media, business, social media, peers, ‘experts’, politicians, or those with hidden agendas or motives). Ultimately, I look for students to ask the questions necessary to independently analyze, create, weigh, and understand what is out there.
MY STYLE
It is my belief that the education of young teenagers is, and should be, riddled with contradictions. Deep diving vs. broad coverage. Meticulous vs. coloring outside the lines. Learning how it works before starting vs. figuring it out as you go. First hand up vs. waiting for everyone. Aural vs. visual. Loud vs. quiet. Safe topics vs. contentious issues. Formal expression vs. casual voice. Inside vs. outside. Analog vs. digital. Peeling the onion layer by layer vs. whacking open the coconut. Books vs. Google. Logic vs. emotion. Practical vs. unworkable. Guided vs. chaotic. Answers vs. questions. Individual needs vs. group dynamics. Progressing from failure vs. being stymied by success. I believe it is this sort of open classroom discussion that results in genuine and meaningful learning — a philosophy that is also very much alive at GUS.
MY GUS
It is the rare school that considers such mayhem as a viable strategy, let alone supports it. Rarer still is the school that allows a teacher to actively implement such a value system, trusting that not just some of, but all, the students will flourish within such a personal and individualized approach. But for eleven years, this is trust that has been granted me. From my first meeting with Raymond Nance, who hired me, I have been treated with the intellectual, cultural, and personal respect that every individual desires in their workplace. I, in turn, have attempted-every day to reflect my deep appreciation for this wonderful environment, through my treatment of my students, my support of my colleagues, my developing of a vibrant, engaging, and challenging curriculum, and my many varied expressions of my appreciation of this community.
MY TEACHING
Children (especially 13- and 14-year-olds) change quickly; keeping up requires constant and consistent engagement and interaction with my students. ‘Who do I teach?’ seems to be a simple and straightforward question, but it turns out to be deceptively complex. When I am aware of this question, I am better able to find the correct balance of purpose, activity, methodology, content, motivation, materials, and environment to optimize the time we have in the classroom.
Children absorb information continuously — continuously but unevenly — so I try to remember that, at all times, I am being scrutinized. I aim to be kind always. I try to model the predilection to do the most good in every situation and as often as possible. Since they are always watching, I consciously model actions, attitudes, and responses that demonstrate my striving for agency and character. This includes how to take chances. The children can see and experience successes with me. Equally, they are right there when I fall, so I don’t hide my failures. Rather, I try to show them how to rebound.
I try to show them that my higher purpose is to get them to know themselves. If I can model justice, acceptance, and tolerance – of difference, uniqueness, and the unfamiliar choices of others – I am empowering them. If they can learn humility and gratitude and how to express thanks consciously, then they are developing their own individual ethical character. They gain the knowledge of what integrity means to each of them and the judgment to be able to feed and grow what they value.
I try to meet students where they are. I try to assume the best of them every morning. I expect their best effort (as they should of me). I aim to provide each child with individual challenges that demand a rigor that meets their individual capability. I tolerate tumbles. I seek the good intention, the striving effort, and the honest failure. I aim to assuage fears, whether substantial or trivial, real or imagined. But I don’t believe in chasing them. Instead, I look for common interests (which, at times, requires some expanding of my own). Over the years, I have become involved in any number of topics or activities that made it possible for me to find common ground with a child (or a group of students). Some of these include: watching a certain movie or show, reading a new author, woodworking, Lego, playing Ultimate frisbee, listening to obscure musical bootlegs, shared birthdays, board games, puzzles, boy bands, and manga. Children are aware that an effort is being made on their behalf and appreciate the effort.
MY CHANGES
I am proud of my teaching. I am proud of the curriculum I have created and delivered. I am proud of the role I have played in the overall life of Glen Urquhart School. I am proud of my students and of their growing into their lives. I have been committed to being fully present each year, each trimester, each day, while at GUS. Fully involved is the only level at which I am willing to teach. After a diagnosis twenty-odd years ago, however, Parkinson’s Disease is beginning to compromise my ability to teach full-time with the devotion, energy, and involvement I require and expect of myself. So, after graduation in June, I will move forward, continuing on the serpentine path that led me to GUS.
Over the eleven years I have been here, some friends made here have become teachers, and many, many more teachers have become friends. These people have generously given me their support, judiciously shared their wisdom, and flattered me with their affection. I have been fortunate to spend thousands of hours with children, brave and true, who accepted challenges they were unsure about, but who have had the faith to walk with me. I have been buoyed by parents who trusted me with some part of their child’s development. This remarkable community reinforces a favored maxim: we are not here to see through each other, but to see each other through.
It is a Glen Urquhart tradition to invite, as graduation speakers, two alumni who have just finished their college careers. Last spring, the speakers were from the GUS Class of 2013, the second cohort I taught at GUS. I understand that both of their speeches were well received by both the graduates and the audience. However, I am not able to be a neutral observer, since both speakers, kindly and with generous regard, mentioned Humanities’ projects done nearly a decade ago, projects that they still thought of and continued to learn lessons from at this distant remove. This recognition was a true honor and I thank them, as I thank all of my other past 337 students who write me — by post or internet — and remember to share part of their memories, activities, or musings.