Melodie’s Teacher Stories: Israeli Participation Points

by Melodie Rosenfeld

Melodie Newman Rosenfeld is a lecturer at an academic teachers college in Israel and has been working with teachers and Read More

Joined Apr 2016
Published Books 9

Thank you so much to Sherman Rosenfeld and Elaine Fresco for your helpful suggestions, as usual.

Even so, I can’t bear to take off the dog photo on the cover; after all, doesn’t his punim express the teacher’s self-reflective, embarrassing wake-up moment and the main idea of the critical incident? 🙂

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Author’s note:

Not everyone likes to participate in class discussions.

This flip-book deals with a true critical incident that involved the author’s beliefs about a student who didn’t speak up in a college class all semester.

I hope it engenders lively discussion among teachers about younger such students as well.

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Melodie’s Teacher Stories: Israeli Participation Points by Melodie Rosenfeld - Ourboox.com

There’s an unwritten rule here that if you don’t voice your opinion openly, then it means you agree.

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Members of Parliament (the Knesset) love to shout out-of-turn when they disagree. So, even when such politicians are removed from a Knesset session for shouting out-of-turn, they win points for being smart.

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There is little regard here for quiet, polite debate or responding to a well-expressed argument in turn.

I listen to a morning radio talk-show. The two hosts are discussing some important issue.

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The woman host irritates my ears with a domineering, buck-toothed (I would swear), nasal whine. The male host verbally bobs up and down like a goose. He unsuccessfully attempts to express his arguments and grab his share of the seeds. She bumps him mercilessly with her honking quacks.

She talks more and louder and wins the argument.

Radio listeners put up with this and think it’s normal.

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Not surprisingly, Israeli teachers find it reasonable to routinely give 10% of a grade for “Class Participation” – shorthand for shouting out answers.

Not a hand but an index finger shoots up, while the student unceremoniously yells, “Teacher! Teacher! Me!! Me!! I have something to say!!”

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“Yes, Yoram, do you know the answer to my question?”

Ah, that.

“No, I don’t know, but I’m raising my finger! I’m participating! I’m shouting out something, just like on TV!”

“I’m smart! I win!”

Yoram demonstrates some interest and occasional

understanding, so the teacher gives him extra points for “Class Participation”.

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And then there are my own children, some of whom are quiet introverts.

Each year teachers at various grades would admonish us about our offspring.

“What’s the matter with your daughter? She doesn’t participate in class.”

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I ask the teacher, “Does she understand? Does she do well on tests? Aren’t those the important things?”

“Well I suppose they are”, she says, “but she doesn’t participate. During class, I have no idea if she understands. Students who understand the material raise their hands and show me what they know.”

The teacher definitely had an entrenched belief.

So zero points for Class Participation.

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In Israel, the introverts eat it.

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Well, I refuse to embrace the pervasive myth that quiet students by definition don’t understand.

As an instructor at an Israeli academic teachers’ college, I suppress the notion that more participation necessarily means more understanding.

I work hard at nourishing my belief that many introverts do have deep understanding but simply don’t have a need to share this in class.

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Based on my enlightened position about introverts, I insist on going from Theory to Practice in my courses: I refuse to give points for Class Participation.

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Last year, I had a particularly quiet student, Rebecca.

During the semester, we smiled and greeted each other warmly in the hall.

In class, she just sat quietly and didn’t participate, even once.

I was proud to be the advocate for quiet introverts, the only lecturer who notably does not give points for Class Participation, the teacher who espouses that just because someone doesn’t participate in class doesn’t mean they don’t understand.

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The end of the semester arrived and I corrected all of the exams which were numbered, rather than named, for fair grading.

When I entered the grades according to name, I was undeniably stunned (please don’t share this; my reaction is too embarrassing) that Rebecca got the highest grade on my final exam.

I rarely admit my reaction in public.

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