Why I am a Writing Project Site Director. . .

Because I am a coward.

Decades ago, during my undergraduate years at a privateliberal arts college, I considered becoming an elementary educator. I took courses in Child Development and in Education. I observed classrooms. I worked
summers as a nanny and a teachingassistant. Because I come from a longline of educators, family members began saving their books and classroom materials to pass along to me, as teachers do. But in the end, I never made it to my first student teaching assignment. I can’t even say that I got into a real classroom, saw how hard it was, and chickened out. I never made it that far.

Even though teaching was revered in my immediate family, itdidn’t take me long to realize that outside our cozy circle, the world was different. “Introduction to Education, darling?” my girlfriend’s mother asked during  one parents’ weekend visit. “Are you sure you’re challenging yourself?” Growing up, I had been taught to honor teachers as professionals, to trust their knowledge and experience. But that’s not what I observed in the schools themselves. In fact, if I had to use one word to describe the way I saw teachers treated by administrators, parents, and community members, it would be this: Patronizing. 

I hate being patronized. While some may boast they have exceptionally well-tuned bullshit detectors, I am proud to say that my senses are finely tuned to the slightest whiff of patronization and in the years I
prepared to become a teacher, alarms sounded at every turn. I loved college, the scholarly environment, the weighty, philosophical discussions. Over time, however, I discovered that nothing could suck the intellectual gravitas out of a conversation faster than mentioning my intention to become a K-12 teacher. It was as if myIQ
visibly dropped thirty or forty points in a matter of seconds. And so as the deadline for registering forstudent teaching neared, I let it pass.

I could not have articulated it then, but somehow I knew Iwould be miserable as a K-12 teacher, not because I didn’t love kids or classrooms, or learning, not because I didn’t think I could manage on the modest salary—after all, I had been raised on it. No, I knew then that my ego was just too fragile. I knew that if I swam in water where my professionalism was questioned and my academic ability ignored, I would surely drown. Instead, I became a writer and a college writingteacher. Not much difference on the surface, some might say. But a world of difference beneath. The university where I work values the intellectual and  pedagogical efforts of me and mycolleagues, as do most institutions of higher education. Test scores are rarely held over our heads as proof
that we are towing the line. Infact, where I work, the underlying assumption remains that when dedicated professionals are respected and trusted in their knowledge and ability, student success naturally
follows.

Over the years I have become privy to ugly conversationsamong friends, family and colleagues—especially parents. Conversations which routinely scorned K-12teachers but which were nonetheless dominated by those with little to no classroom experience and occasionally, even less education. Conversations which made me cringe. Then, years ago, as a young doctoral student, I found the National Writing Project, or rather, it found me. A nearly forty-year old, federally-funded organization with 200 sites nationwide, the National Writing Project (www.nwp.org) is dedicated to supporting teachers in improving the teaching of writing K-University. But more important than that, the Writing Project develops and honors the knowledge of teachers, treating them as the education specialists they are. Every year, talented educators dedicate a month of their summer to intense, selective, month-longinstitutes where they put their combined intelligences and energies togetherfor the benefit of our nation’s students, analyzing their own classrooms and examining the besskills so critical to our society.

As the director of the Great Bear Writing Project at the University of Central Arkansas, I have often
facilitated these onemonth think tanks. The recipe for success is simple. Put fifteen talented teachers together in a room, provide them with the professional resources and intellectual challenges they deserve, then get out ofthe way. Twenty years after I gave up elementary education out ofwell, yes, out of cowardice, I like to think I could handle it now. Now that I’ve seen how it’s done. But that train left the station longago. Instead, I like to think I'm atoning for my earlier judgement lapse by leading a pit crew for teachers, especially those whose spirits may be flagging in the current cultural climate, those whose fuel may have gotten dangerously low after endless solo laps. In a way, I’ve come home again, my self-confidence now arising from the knowledge that I am doing exactly what I was meant to do.

I am a National Writing Project site director.
Stephanie Vanderslice
Great Bear Writing Project at UCA
Conway AR