This experience has helped me explore some of the educational issues that we have explored in class. My identity has not been shaped and molded into the form of teacher I have encountered, but rather into some type of rebellious opposite. I want to be a Kozol, fired for teaching poetry that is not read until the 8th grade level. I want to be Shor, challenging conventional teaching styles, and attempting to reach all students. I want to emulate Freire, challenging my students to ask questions, rather than demanding they memorize pieces of information. What I do not want to be is a teacher similar to those I have encountered, at least not while they are on-duty.

However, they did not want to be that way either. They did not want to teach to the test, even when what the test asked was insigificant. They did not want to have internal debates with themselves on whether they should focus on the skills children will need in the real world, or the "skills" they'll never need again... the "skills" the test requires profiency in. And surely, not one of those teachers entered the field hoping to be assaulted by white walls and mantras of success, or little blue-printed words they would near-memorize over the years. Not one of those teachers wished for a flawed No Child Left Behind.

Yet here they are.

Though I claim I aim to become a strong and rebellious teacher, someone who petitions for change, only time will tell if I can truly become an ambassador for it or not. I have seen some eye-opening things in the little time I was allowed to spend inside the classroom, and can only imagine how insightful some of my posts would have been with even more time inside the classroom, viewing its structure. From this experience, I have also gained the love of two little boys, who, in spite of whatever any test says, are intelligent human beings, and simply need some extra attention. Rather than employing a harsh use of punishment, if the school system attempted to distribute praise, perhaps they'd feel less self-conscious. Perhaps if the student who was called "slug" at home in his attempts to read had someone like me fighting off that label for him in school every month of the year, he wouldn't be "falling below profiency."

What I have learned the most from this experience is that in our attempts to be proficient and churn out perfect, autonomous students, we have forgotten to acknowledge our human element. We have forgotten to relate to our students, and ask for their unique point of view. We have abandoned our curiosity, and asked them to ignore theirs. We have taught to the test, but at the end of the day, what have we really taught them?

Nothing I hold to that high a scale, and nothing I plan to instill within the high school students I'm granted the priveledge to teach one day.