My Philosophy as an English Specialist
1. Statement of Philosophy:
As an English teacher, my goals are to establish an environment of learning that values the multiplicity of student identities, experiences, lived realities, and world-views that each brings into my classroom. I strive to support my students exploration of literature, language, and media in order to guide them as they collaborate and work together to develop the required skills and critical approaches that will ensure that they can both understand and interact with the world and all the multimodal forms of communication that it is built upon, as well as challenge the world around them when they are called to do so.
2. Factors of Influence:
Throughout my career as an English educator, I have been influenced by many theories, pedagogies, and ontological traditions. I try to approach my own practice with an open mind and often find that, as I try on new and different conceptualizations, I can usually blend these new (and, sometimes, even competing) ideas into my own framework. That said, there are key components of who I am as an educator that I simply cannot disentangle myself and my pedagogy from. Amongst those conceptualizations are the importance of multimodality as sponsors of literacy and transactional reading practice.
2.1 Multimodal Text Forms and Sponsorship
As an English Specialist, it feels vitally important to acknowledge the way that multimodality and various new multimodal text forms have given rise to a totally new communication landscape. Yet, it seems as though there is an overall reluctance to accept and embrace multimodality within the English curricular framework. Though there are many resources available, the purpose these new forms offer to education seems to be unacknowledged.
Multimodality, as a form of communication, suggests that “everything in a culture can be seen as a form of communication, organized in ways akin to verbal language, to be understood in terms of a common set of fundamental rules or principles” (Hodge & Kress, 1988, p. 1). In Multimodal Discourse, Gunther Kress and Theo van Leeuwen (2001) more clearly define “everything” as modes–or semiotic resources–that allow for multiple, simultaneous realizations of discourse within the meaning making process (Kress & van Leeuwen, p. 21). They further suggested that the modes do not have a single job, but rather “operate in and across” one another (Kress & van Leeuwen, 2001, p. 2).
In my own work, this has been most instrumental in my commitment to comics within education. One of the most influential thinkers for me was Dale Jacobs (2014) and his work, Graphic Encounters: Comics and the Sponsorship of Multimodal Literacy. Here, Jacobs argues that "comics represent part of [the multimodal] landscape and, in the way they can act as analogs to other kinds of multimodal texts, comics open up several possibilities for thinking about multimodal literacy" (p. 4). This led me to embracing the concept of multimodal literacy as a fundamental part of my practice. As an advocate for comics and their power to sponsor literacy, I felt that finding ways to incorporate multimodal literacy practices into my classroom would not only help support my students' learning, but also prepare them for an increasingly multimodal world, as well.
2.2 Transactional Reading Practice
As an English educator, understanding the interpretive process of reading has always taken precedence (for me) over the structural process. During my training, it became clear that my preference was to approach and understand reading through the theoretical concept of reader response. This led me to the tradition of Transactional Theory developed by Louise Rosenblatt in 1978. In her work, Literature as Exploration (1978), she positions the act of reading for meaning as influenced by far more than simply the text, but also by the larger social world within which the reader and the text come together.
Transactional Reading views the process of meaning making as situated in time and place; no interpretive event can be identical because what a text reveals to a reader is dependent on the knowledge and experiences the reader brings to a text (and these are always changing). To take this idea even further, every interpretive act also changes the text and reader since, once revealed, neither can return to the state they were in before the encounter. In this way, there is no such thing as a “generic” reader because Transactional theory suggests that each person brings different social, cultural, and political positions, prior knowledge, previous experiences, (etc.) to the text and that it is these external factors that are brought to bear upon the text enacting the revealing that occurs during the reading/interpretive encounter. Meaning making is, therefore, a two-way transactional process that occurs between the text and reader and what they offer each other (Rosenblatt, 1978).
As a teacher eminently concerned with the social, cultural, political (etc.) lives of my students–and how that impacts their engagement with literature–Rosenblatt’s theories spoke to me. Rosenblatt’s theoretical perspective has become an instrumental influence of my own classroom pedagogy. When one approaches the act of English/Literature studies in this way, we are acknowledging the two-way transactional process that occurs between the text and all our students. This opens an interpretive Pandora's box, permitting so many new horizons of interpretation to present themselves and placing our students in the centre of this learning. They become active meaning makers as opposed to active meaning discoverers. They quickly understand that their role is much more than determining what the author meant in any given situation, but rather they are co-constructing meaning in every new engagement creating critical appraisers of the work as opposed to passive consumers.
2.3 Critical Pedagogy
Like the Critical Pedagogy theorists that I admire (Friere, Giroux, hooks, Mcaren, etc.) I believe that “teaching and learning is inherently a political act” and that “knowledge and language are not neutral, nor can they be objective” (“Critical and Anti-Oppressive Approaches to Teaching”). It is for this reason that exploring and developing critical consciousness in my students is at the forefront of my practice. Indeed, as Freire (1987) tells us “reading does not consist merely of decoding the written word or language; rather, it is preceded by and intertwined with knowledge of the world” (p. 29). In their groundbreaking work, Literacy: Reading the Word and the World, Freire and Macedo suggest a view of literacy as analysis that focuses on “whether it serves to reproduce existing social formations or serves as a set of cultural practices that promotes democratic and emancipatory change” (p. 141). This speaks powerfully to the way that education–in our case English–can be a “liberatory practice” that acknowledges and recognizes “education as a way to freedom” (May-Varas, Margolios, & Mead, 2023, as cited in ““Critical and Anti-Oppressive Approaches to Teaching”).
As a part of my commitment to this practice, I am often thinking about ways to challenge the traditional textual make-up of our classes. I believe in amplifying voices that have been traditionally marginalized, as well as teaching students the critical evaluation skills to challenge canonical works of fiction for their contributions to systems of oppression. Indeed, while bringing in texts that reveal authentic voice to our students is vital and important, “antiracist literature instruction includes opportunities for students to apply their developing understandings of race and racism to their own lives and experiences,” which within an English classroom means seeing the mutually beneficial “relationship between the goals of racial literacy and the goals of typical literature instruction” (Borsheim-Black and Sarigianides, 2019, p. 12). Furthermore, as David Pilgrim (2015) points out “objects of racial intolerance [of which canonical literature can and often is considered] can be used to teach about race, race relations, and racism–and that those lessons, shared through painfully honest dialogue, can result in less racism” (p. 27). Therefore, I have strived throughout my career to find a balance between bringing in texts that reveal authentic experiences outside those of my students and challenging canonical works with a critical lens.
3. Areas of Tension:
I often find myself caught between the systemic expectations of the English classroom and remaining true to myself and my personal philosophy. It can be difficult when joining into an existing departmental structure to find opportunities to try new approaches and strategies. Personally, this has been most evident for me in text selection.
Last year, I approached my Program Chair about teaching a video game in my ENG4C class. I had a very small class of nine boys and felt that this game–Braid (2008)--would be a perfect multimodal text form that students would buy into. I faced significant resistance at this stage, having to justify my rationale about multimodality, questions of how it would fit into the course structure, ways that I could evaluate their work, etc. Once I had convinced the department to let me teach it, it became apparent that we did not have the technological infrastructure to make it work. This felt like such a blow to me because I had fought so hard to make it happen. Ultimately, there still exists both a philosophical and technological tension within our schools to implement new and innovative ideas. Sadly, it is our students who suffer, as a result.
Even when bringing traditional monomodal texts into our classrooms (novels, for instance) as core texts, these tensions can arise. For instance, how do we heed the call to bring representative and diverse texts created by authentic voices in order to reveal truths and combat prejudice into our classrooms while also teaching students critical practices to combat the histories of oppression baked into the classic, canonical texts that have been contributing to the development of implicit biases through engagement with them? One of the many difficulties inherent in this dichotomy is, of course, ensuring that students “reach the depth of understanding necessary for fully grasping the complexities of systemic racism” (Borsheim-Black and Sarigianides, 2019, p. 13). It is, I think, often easier to simply focus on the work of revealing authentic experiences through authentic texts for our students because it means not having to confront the painful history and role that the literature we love has contributed to. That said, the critical skills required to evaluate and challenge what our students read can only be developed by exploring how the past not only reflected, but amplified and contributed to systems of oppression. For this reason, though I often find myself at odds with canonical literature, I also feel the importance of it remaining in the classroom. Finding the balance is a tension I am constantly faced with.
Another area where tension exists during the implementation of my personal philosophies is in classroom practice. I often set my classrooms up to be wholly democratic spaces; a place where students understand their role as leaders and recognize that the expectations are for them to take an active role in not just their learning, but the learning of their peers, as well. I view myself as a facilitator–or guide on the side–helping students to take ownership of their learning, rather than view me as the “expert.” Yet, I have often come across some combativeness amongst colleagues who view this approach as undermining the way the rest of the department functions. I’ve been challenged on why my students have so much freedom to choose their own seats, select from options in assignments, or identify their own ARP test days. It has been suggested that my choices have negatively impacted the classroom community of others because students are comparing experiences. I find this particularly difficult because I never want to contribute to a negative classroom community–whether it be mine or other teachers. Yet, I also feel as though not remaining true to my principles could negatively impact my practice, my students, and my overall health within the field.
These can be difficult areas to navigate, but I have learned to value these tensions for they challenge me to think critically about my practice and to remain true to the things that matter most.
4. Conclusion
Throughout my ten year career, my philosophy has changed. It has shifted and evolved as I have continued to learn and grow as an educator and pedagogue. I believe in the value of life-long learning and do my best to remain open to all new experiences that I am faced with. That said, the core tenants outlined above have featured prominently in my positionality for years and, though even within them I have grown and adapted, I believe that they truly reflect my philosophy as an English educator.
References
Borsheim-Black, C. and Sarigianides, S.T. (2019). Letting go of literary whiteness: Antiracist literature instruction for white students. Teachers College Press.
Freire, P. and Macedo, D. (1987). Literacy: reading the word and the world. Bergin & Garvey.
Hodge, R., & Kress, G. (1988). Social semiotics. Cornell University Press.
Jacobs, D. (2014). Graphic encounters: Comics and the sponsorship of multimodal literacy. Bloomsbury.
Kress, G., & van Leeuwen, T. (2001). Multimodal discourse: The modes and media of contemporary communication. Arnold.
Pilgrim, D. (2015). Understanding Jim Crow: Using racist memorabilia to teach tolerance and promote social justice. PM Press.
Rosenblatt, L. (1978). Literature as exploration. The Modern Language Association of America.















