Recounting my experience with authentic intellectual work is like recalling a dream; hazy around the edges, misty in the middle, flashes of familiar faces and concepts, and the sensation that I’m forgetting something tragically significant. Perhaps it’s hard for me to recall because I am still beginning to learn what “authentic intellectual work” really means.

Before reading chapters 1 & 2 of Authentic Instruction and Assessment, I thought there was just visual, auditory, and hands on learning. You’re supposed to know what type of learner you are, you know. But I’ve never said to myself, “I learn best by implementing only the most authentic intellectual work….” To my credit, who goes around knowing that “…construction of knowledge, through the use of disciplined inquiry, to produce discourse, products, or performances that have value beyond school” is a multiple choice option for how to learn. I do now.

The brightest shining-star memory in my illustrious academic career that is a good example of authentic, beyond the classroom, must-have-for-everyday-success intellectual work was from a senior level psychology course over interviewing skills. Before I was going to be a professional teacher, I was going to be a professional listener. And studying professional listening lead me to the inescapable scenario of interviewing a classmate, using the skills and methods we were learning, in front of my studious peers.

We roll played as client/counselor. She talked about an issue in her life, real or fictitious, and I asked deeper questions based on what I had heard. We were instructed not to go full PhD. Psychiatrist on our pretend patients, and keep it in the realm of simplicity. “What do you mean by that”, “What I’m hearing you say is this this and this. Am I understanding that right?”, “What did you do next?”. If we didn’t know how to keep the conversation going, we could phone a friend. In this class, “phoning a friend” translated to staring blankly and frantically at the professor for help. But I was doing so well practicing the skills we were learning that I didn’t have to tap out. I was doing it. I was leading this hypothetical session!

Finally, following with her story, I asked her, “And do you think the frustration you’ve been feeling at home is connected to your relationship with your mother?” Suddenly the oxygen had been sucked from the room. The classroom became a vacuum. No one breathed. Was that a soft gasp I heard at the back of the room?  My partner looked like she had just taken a volleyball to the face. She stared at me, mouth agape, eyes like oysters, and uttered, “Uh…”

“And we are going to stop there for today! Good work, ladies!”. Dr. SaveTheDay came to her aid and cut me short before I could launch into a full diagnosis. We were both a little embarrassed. I didn’t mean to go that deep into the questions. She didn’t mean to be so open. Our professor reminded us that questions like that were to be left to professional counselors. Currently we were only practicing interviewing skills. Patience is a virtue; we would get there eventually.

That was the first, and perhaps the only, time I felt the confidence to actually become a counselor. It was the first time I could truly believe in myself to be able to retain what I was learning in school, and use it to listen to and help others. Maybe I had some natural intuition to be good at this. Maybe I could really get there.

Maybe my classes were really teaching me.

Teach the skills. Provide an opportunity to sink or swim. Think on your feet. Practice with purpose. If that is where authentic intellectual work gets you, I want more of it in my future classroom.

Reference:

Fred M. Newman, M. Bruce King, Dana L. Carmichael (2007). Authentic Instruction and Assessment: Building a culture of creativity in your school. Eugene, OR: ISTE. ISBN#: 9781564843807.