Oct. 1, 2026: Entry Slip

Sharon Kallis’ book on learning through reviving ancient techniques was quite thought-provoking. Her critical point that consumerism has become widespread in today’s present-day encouraged me to reflect on my own contributions. Admittedly, I frequently indulge in retail therapy. My thought process is that, because I already worked and acquired my hard-earned cash, the effort balances out with the instant gratification of rewards, such as through take-out foods. However, Kallis highlights that this is an ignorant mindset, as it takes away from the indulgence that comes from creating one’s own recompense. In my case, this would be concerning because it is possible for me to learn and cook for myself; in a broader sense, this becomes more alarming as it runs the risk of forgetting knowledgeable skillsets, or just never being motivated to begin with.

Kallis further emphasizes the need to strive for independence over commercialism, and in doing so results in a greater sense of self-fulfilment. This was a powerful statement, as I had never considered it, but it is something that I subconsciously found true. When buying gifts for others, I would contemplate if a gift was good enough, usually equating the price to its worth. On the contrary, rarely would I ever stop to consider if a handmade gift would be appreciated, because I knew the value of the efforts that went into it. What I found even more interesting is that it truly is not that difficult to dedicate oneself to a task, even despite financial considerations, given enough patience is allocated towards the activity. I experienced this when making a 7-strand double braid out of paper towels for rope, and while it was not exceptionally stunning, it was still something I managed to create on my own with care.

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Sep. 24, 2026: Exit Slip

In today's class, I became really invested in my learning, as I felt as though I was sincerely connecting to nature. It felt like a truly interlaced learning experience to be able to trace the sun and measure the dimensions of the garden with my body. Moreover, these practices reaffirmed my growing mindset to embrace the garden as a co-teacher. Veritably, today’s class gave the impression that it really could have only been done in a learning garden. Had the lesson taken place in a classroom, it would have been restrictive being in a confined space. However, because the UBC Orchard Garden was open, it was freeing to move around, and I hope to transfer this sensation of grounded learning to my students as well.

As a teacher, if I had access to a learning garden, I would want to include embodied lessons similar to today for exploring mathematical history. By theorizing how people previously measured without precise tools, it turns into a great opportunity for students to situate themselves in the past, and develop a deeper understanding for the evolution of Mathematics. Specifically, if considering teaching geometry, a learning garden presents a perfect introduction to learning about symmetry. For instance, students would consider the reflections, fractals, and helices found in nature. Building off of this, it further links to the Pythagorean Theorem, as it is fundamentally tied to rotational symmetry. Overall, today’s lesson was extremely transformative, and the learning garden serves as an amazing way to bring meaning to real-world learning.

Sep. 23, 2026 Entry Slip: Thinking About Teaching & Learning Gardens

Reading today’s article, I sincerely began to reflect on the benefits of a learning garden within education. An interesting point from the reading was recognizing the garden as a co-teacher. For the entirety of our EDUC450 and EDCP342 classes, I categorized the UBC Orchard Garden solely as a location. Thus, to reconceptualize my predisposition was thought-provoking as I began considering how to integrate practices into my teachables.

One of my subject areas is English, and initially including its material felt intuitive. Specifically, the creative aspects of English allow the students to branch off to poetry as a benchmark. However, it was this realization of relying on something that comes effortlessly that I wanted to change. If learning is easy, there is no true learning as everything is already familiar. This led me to consider incorporating Indigenous ways of learning. I wanted to challenge my students by exploring land-based storytelling, encouraging them to actually situate themselves within the natural elements. They would share a specific encounter with the garden, prompting them to earnestly reflect on the history behind the land, and this could motivate higher levels of vocabulary for deeper expression.

My other teachable subject is Mathematics, and I believe a learning garden serves as the perfect space to inspire cooperation due to its intimate proximity. Mathematics, within a high school setting, is widely recognized as an individual activity. A benefit by being in the garden is that the tone switches from exclusively learning from a singular instructor to learning from each other. On the contrary, a difficult aspect may be that learning within a garden is not a normalized approach to teaching within the BC Curriculum Standards, and the students may require time to adjust. That being said, the article distinguishes a strong difference between learning within a garden, and simply transferring a classroom to a learning garden. As such, it is only by everyone actively looking for ways to learn with the garden, as opposed to just being in it, that facilitates collective learning. Moreover, Mathematics plays an integral role in this process, as students begin to see it reflected in a real-world scenario, bringing meaning to their understanding.

Sep 17, 2026: Exit Slip

What struck me about the sketching activity on September 17, 2026, was the open-endedness of it. The class was provided mainly four criteria: sit down somewhere that strikes us, draw two natural elements, draw two manmade objects, and focus on angles. I found myself drawn to sit in the shade next to a blackberry bush, as when I was a child I would pick blackberries a lot in elementary. When looking at my location, I noticed how the nearby dandelions were all growing in the same angle. I realized that they were all reaching towards the sunlight. Moreover, some of the leaves on the blackberries were stained red, possibly from when they were eaten by animals.

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Not all this would go noticed if just passed by, and I felt strongly about this because it felt like the first part of being reflexive. Slowing down, taking the time to look at something whole, and thinking about how it came to be. I am still questioning what the full motif was, but I believe it connects to our class discussions as well. My group talked about how to be reflexive, we would be reflecting a lot on how our actions have consequences. As a reflexive teacher, we should pay attention to the story of the land we are visitors on, and our presence on it. This felt even more apparent when also sketching the two manmade structures. This idea definitely changed my perspective of how connected I am to the land, and I hope to learn about the history of all schools’ lands I visit in the future.

Sep 17, 2026: Entrance Slip

Grant and Zeichner’s compelling article to embody the practices of a reflexive teacher strongly resonated with me. Particularly, their three main attitudes were strong guidelines I seek to personify myself. Open-mindedness as a teacher is essential, as it allows for true reflection, resulting in meaningful actions which benefit the students in the best ways possible. Moreover, I appreciated the article’s articulation of responsibility. Veritably, my actions as a teacher have consequences on my students’ learning, but this does suggest to be overly cautious. Being excessively hesitant would go against the third attitude to be wholehearted. Instead, by acknowledging responsibility for one’s students and embracing wholeheartedness, it creates a meaningful impact that strives for growth as a collective class. Overall, I want to be a learner along with my students, and by representing the three attitudes of a reflexive teacher, education within the classroom becomes reciprocal.

Though Grant and Zeichner mention having an unwavering teaching philosophy, I believe this was not especially relevant for me. Inherently, being a reflexive teacher elicits adaptability to cater to one’s students. As I grow as a teacher and individual, my teaching philosophy should change to accommodate the myriad of students I come to meet. Thus, to be unsweaving would stunt my growing pedagogy. In addition, the article presents an outdated view of bias. While it is important to acknowledge where one’s beliefs stem from, there is no mention of how a course’s material reflects partiality. This is imperative to consider, as teachers must be conscious of what social constructs and cultural norms are being promoted through their lessons’ contents. Such coursework does not necessarily need to be avoided, but as a class, it is significant to critically analyze the contextual logic and understand its origins.

Furthering critical analysis, Grant and Zeichner highlight a poignant moral and ethical responsibility of teachers to never passively follow. In relation to a school’s customs and regulations, a reflexive teacher should always question the rationale. I find this agreeable, as even if the reasoning may seem intuitive, by not actively questioning administrative decisions, it could lead to missing out on implicit and deeper reasonings that potentially apply to one's own teachings. Nevertheless, through their same point, I disagree that our only major learning sources are our university instructors and supervisors, and the teachers and administrators we interact with during practicum. From my perspective, high school teachers influenced a lot of my teaching beliefs. While not exactly demonstrating how to become a teacher, they heavily motivated my ambitions, and were the guides that showed me what I want to be.

September 10 Exit Slip

Reflecting on the class discussions of September 10th, I am left wondering what kind of teacher I am striving to be, specifically what impact I want to impart onto my students. Prior, I believed an excellent teacher meant adhering to district rules, while ensuring that all students excelled within the course. However, Frank McCourt shifted this belief to cater more to their autonomy.

McCourt demonstrated a willingness to entertain students’ rebellions towards coursework, criticizing the work alongside them. He labelled this as “critical inquiry,” and I feel a strong inquisitiveness to how I can bring this concept in my classroom. I believe his method to go with the flow of the students could prove to be effective, but I am admittedly hesitant. I am unsure how I will react to rebellion, and how well received it would be if I fully indulged in it.

I want my students to be autonomous. Therefore, while I cannot be certain of the kind of impact I will have on my students, that is the essence to fostering sincerity. Although I still believe in following district rules for teaching, I will center these regulations more around material, rather than the delivery. My focus will be that my students, instead of passively learning, lean into critical inquiry and make the course knowledge their own.

Hello World

Hello Friends of EDUC 450 ! 

Happy first day of class :D

I am forward to working with everyone. Thank you all for your support throughout the semester.

Miffy from Paris