On Keeping a Teaching Journal

Article by Tara DaPra, Teaching Professor & 2024-25 Instructional Development Consultant

On the last day of the semester, I read the Brendan Kennelly poem “Begin” to my creative writing students, which ends thus: “Though we live in a world that dreams of ending/that always seems about to give in/something that will not acknowledge conclusion/insists that we forever begin.” It’s the perfect poem to describe the commotion of the semester’s end, so when I share this with my students, I acknowledge the desperation many of us feel to get to the other side.

But then what? As the poem instructs, we do it all again. I tell my students that it’s okay if the semester didn’t go just as they’d hoped, that they can try again. They have another semester to accomplish a little more, to do a little better, to become a little stronger. And in the meantime, they should acknowledge all that they have achieved and take a moment to celebrate. And we, their professors can do the same.

What does any of this have to do with a teaching journal?

Whether or not you keep one, you already know what a teaching journal is, but here’s a definition for good measure. In their book Professional Development for Language Teachers, Richards and Farrell define a teaching journal as “an ongoing written account of observations, reflections, and other thoughts about teaching, … which serves as a source of discussion, reflection, or evaluation” (68). If you’re not in the practice of keeping a teaching journal, try responding to formal or informal prompts after an ordinary day of teaching—or a particularly tough one: Which part of today’s class was most successful? Least successful? Did students contribute actively? How did I organize and interact with groups? What did students truly learn?

Richards and Farrell distinguish between an intrapersonal journal, written for oneself, and a dialogical journal, written for another. Many of us learned to keep a dialogical teaching journal as graduate students. In Ohio University’s TA Pedagogy Seminar, teaching assistants are instructed to write at least one entry each week, monitored by the supervising professor. While our teaching today is largely an independent practice, a dialogical journal may still be useful, for example, if you co-teach a course or if you and your colleagues who teach the same general education course wish to compare notes.

But all of us can benefit from an intrapersonal journal, a record of our teaching wins and defeats, a record of tweaks you wish to make the next time you teach the class, that, if not written down, may be forgotten until you repeat the misstep. In a blog post for Inside Higher Ed, “Teach Like You Write,” Daniel Knorr describes his version of a teaching journal, which he does simply by annotating his syllabus during the semester. In this, he acknowledges the influence his students play in his planned revisions. He writes, “I wish my students could see how I will teach this course differently in the future because of their questions and insights. Remembering that this is the beginning of my teaching career and that my students’ learning does not stop when they leave my classroom has helped me focus on the ways I can best teach them now given our other responsibilities and limited time together.”

While it’s easy to use a teaching journal to track the minutiae of day-to-day—this lecture needs to be slower, this discussion fell flat—I admire Knorr’s approach for two reasons: First, he recognizes teaching as a collaborative act, one that our specific students take part in. This requires us to react in real time but also to consider how our students change over the years and decades. We all know that what worked in 2019 may no longer work in the same way. Second, I admire Knorr’s ability to zoom out. He reminds us to see teaching as a vocation we are cultivating: What do I hope students remember a year, five years, twenty years from now? What do I hope to retain and develop in my teaching practice a year, five years, twenty years from now?

Teaching, on a good day, is hard work. Some days that hard work feels deeply gratifying. On others, we may feel a desperation of our own, to get to the other side of the semester, to just be done. (Can’t that Giant Stack of Grading die already?) But we get through it. We always do. And these are the days—the joyous ones and the hardest ones—we ought to pay attention to. Note the tweaks you wish to make but don’t neglect recording the wins. This practice, a kind of gratitude, may help to sustain you.

When I first began sharing with students Brendan Kennelly’s poem “Begin,” this was done on instinct—it just felt right for the occasion. In time, I saw why: it reminds me that what I love best about teaching is the practice, the ability to revise. A teaching journal can help you plot the course.

(You can listen to Brendan Kennelly recite his poem, or, if you prefer, Hozier will read for you.)

Sources Consulted

Howells, Kerry. “The Role of Gratitude in Higher Education.” (2024 Jan). Higher Education Research and Development. Retrieved from https://www.researchgate.net/publication/228909266_The_role_of_gratitude_in_higher_education

Kennelly, Brendan. “Begin.” (1999 Dec 1). Begin. Bloodaxe Books Ltd.

Knorr, Daniel, “Teach Like You Write.” (2018 Nov 8.) Inside Higher Ed. Retrieved from https://www.insidehighered.com/blogs/gradhacker/teach-you-write

“Reflective Writing: Keeping a Teaching Journal.” (2024.) Resources for Teaching Assistants. Ohio University. Retrieved from https://www.ohio.edu/cas/about/assessment/teaching-assistant-resources/reflective-writing-keeping-teaching-journal

Richards, Jack C. and Farrell, Thomas S. C. (eds). (2005). “Keeping a teaching journal.” Professional Development for Language Teachers. Cambridge University Press, pp. 68-84.

Fall 2024 Co-Writing Community (Tuesdays 3:30 – 4:30 p.m. & Fridays 8:30 – 9:30 a.m.)

Tara DaPra, one of CATL’s Instructional Development Consultants, will lead another “Co-Writing Community” this fall. A co-writing community is a zero-obligation, zero-preparation, zero-outside work activity. Use this time to work on creative or scholarly projects that might otherwise get pushed aside by the demands of teaching. All faculty and staff are welcome!

The co-writing community will run throughout the fall semester via Zoom from 3:30 – 4:30 p.m. on Tuesdays and 8:30 – 9:30 a.m. on Fridays. Feel free to join early or late, weekly, or when your schedule allows! Simply drop in with this Zoom link which will be reused for each session.

Please email daprat@uwgb.edu with any questions.

My Resistance (and Maybe Yours): Help Me Explore Generative AI

Article by Tara DaPra, CATL Instructional Development Consultant & Associate Teaching Professor of English & Writing Foundations

I went to the OPID conference in April to learn from colleagues across the Universities of Wisconsin who know much more than I do about Generative AI. I was looking for answers, for insight, and maybe for a sense that it’s all going to be okay.

I picked up a few small ideas. One group of presenters disclosed that AI had revised their PowerPoint slides for concision, something that, let’s be honest, most presentations could benefit from. Bryan Kopp, an English professor at UW-La Crosse, opened his presentation “AI & Social Inequity” by plainly stating that discussions of AI are discussions of power. He went on to describe his senior seminar that explored these social dynamics and offered the reassurance that we can figure this thing out with our students.

I also heard a lot of noise: AI is changing everything! Students are already using it! Other students are scared, so you have to give them permission. But don’t make them use it, which means after learning how to teach it, and teaching them how to use it, you must also create an alternate assessment. And you have to use it, too! But you can’t use it to grade or write LORs or in any way compromise FERPA. Most of all, don’t wait! You’re already sooo behind!

In sum: AI is everywhere. It’s in your car, inside the house, in your pocket. And (I think?) it’s coming for your refrigerator and your grocery shopping.

I left the conference with a familiar ache behind my right shoulder blade. This is the place where stress lives in my body, the place of “you really must” and “have to.” And my body is resisting.

I am not an early adopter. I let the first gen of any new tech tool come and go, waiting for the bugs to be worked out, to see if it will survive the Hype Cycle. This year, my syllabus policy on AI essentially read, “I don’t know how to use this thing, so please just don’t.” Though, in my defense, the fact that I even had a policy on Generative AI might actually make me an early adopter, since a recent national survey of provosts found only 20% were at the helm of institutions with formal, published policy on the use of AI.

So I still don’t have very many answers, but I am remembering to breathe through my resistance, which has helped me develop a few questions: How can I break down this big scary thing into smaller pieces? How might I approach these tools with a sense of play? How can I experiment in the classroom with students? How can I help them understand the limitations of AI and the essential nature of their human brains, their human voices?

To those ends, I’d like to hear from you. Send me your anxieties, your moral outrage, your wildest hopes and dreams. What have you been puzzling over this year? Have you found small ways to use Generative AI in your teaching or writing? Have your ethical questions shifted or deepened? And should I worry that maybe, in about two hundred years, AI is going to destroy us all?

This summer and next year, CATL will publish additional materials and blog posts exploring Generative AI. CATL has already covered some of the “whats,” and will continue to do so, as AI changes rapidly. But, just as we understand that to motivate students, we must also talk about “the why,” we must make space for these questions ourselves. In the meantime, as I explore these questions, I’m leaning into human companionship, as members of my unit (Applied Writing & English) will read Co-Intelligence: Living and Working with AI by Ethan Mollick. We’re off contract this summer, so it’s not required, but, you know, we have to figure this out. So if we must, let’s at least do it over dinner.

Co-Writing Community (Fridays 8:15 – 9:15 a.m., Spring 2024)

Tara DaPra, one of CATL’s Instructional Development Consultants, will lead a “Co-Writing Community” this spring.  A Co-Writing Community is a zero-obligation, zero-preparation, zero-outside work activity. Use the time to work on creative or scholarly projects that might otherwise get pushed aside by the demands of teaching. All faculty and staff are welcome!

The Co-Writing Community will meet throughout the spring semester on Fridays from 8:15 – 9:15 a.m. Feel free to join early or late, weekly, or when your schedule allows! All meetings will be held virtually. Simply drop in with this Zoom link which will be reused for each session.

Please email daprat@uwgb.edu with any questions.