Uncovering Felt Difficulties: Unleashing Your Inner Educational Detective

Salutations! Welcome back to another thrilling episode of educational detective work. Today, I'm dusting off our magnifying glasses to uncover the elusive 'felt difficulties' lurking in the shadows of our teaching practices.

First off, let's dive into what Sherlock Holmes' less-famous cousin, John Dewey, meant when he talked about 'felt difficulties.' Picture this: You're walking along a perfectly smooth sidewalk, and then—BAM!—you trip over an unseen crack. That surprise stumble, that unexpected obstacle, is what Dewey would call a 'felt difficulty.'

In Dewey's philosophy, a 'felt difficulty' isn't just a bump in the road; it's a signal that something deeper is amiss. Dewey believed that these moments of discomfort are the starting points of all genuine inquiry. They mark the transition from routine, habitual action to reflective thought—a cornerstone of Dewey's concept of experiential learning. In essence, when you trip over that crack, your mind shifts from automatic pilot to problem-solving mode, and that, my dear Watson, is where the magic of learning begins.

In the world of teaching, these 'felt difficulties' could be anything that disrupts your pedagogical flow. But let's be clear—these aren't your garden-variety hiccups like, "Why does my tech keep crashing during my lesson?" or "How did my stapler disappear again?" (For examples of what is NOT a dilemma, see this post!)

Oh no, we're talking about the real brain-benders, the double-espresso shots of teaching. These are the moments when you find yourself at a crossroads, facing questions that challenge your core beliefs about education. They're the situations that leave you staring at the ceiling at 3 a.m., a half-eaten sandwich in one hand, your lesson plan in the other, wondering how you ended up here.

Dewey would argue that these are the exact moments when true learning—and teaching—happens. He saw 'felt difficulties' as opportunities for growth, not just for students, but for teachers as well. When you encounter a felt difficulty, you're being invited to pause, reflect, and engage in a process of inquiry that can lead to profound insights and changes in your practice.

Teaching dilemmas are the tricky pickles, the situations that drop into your lap and make you think: "Wow, I don't remember this chapter from my education degree." They're the conundrums that make you question your values, principles, and possibly even the sanity of choosing a career in education. (Just kidding, we love our jobs…most of the time.)

But here's the kicker—it's in wrestling with these dilemmas that you become more fully yourself as a teacher. Dewey believed that education isn't just about imparting knowledge; it's about becoming a more reflective, thoughtful human being. When a teacher encounters a felt difficulty, Dewey saw it not merely as a problem to be solved but as an invitation to grow—a chance to dig deeper into our values, question our assumptions, and refine our practice.

Embracing these moments of discomfort is essential because they are the catalysts that drive us to evolve into better, more insightful educators. It's through this process of grappling with our internal and external challenges that we not only improve our teaching but also grow as individuals. After all, in the words of Dewey himself, "We do not learn from experience... we learn from reflecting on experience."

Let’s dive into some teaching dilemmas that take us beyond the surface, into the heart of who we are as educators, wrestling with both internal and external challenges.

The Authenticity vs. Professionalism Puzzle: Imagine you're in the middle of a lesson that’s going off-script in the best way possible—students are engaged, ideas are flowing, and the atmosphere is electric. But then, that nagging voice in your head reminds you of the “serious” professional image you’re supposed to maintain. Do you lean into the moment, embracing the joy and connection, even if it feels a bit unorthodox? Or do you pull back, adhering to a more traditional, authoritative role that might not fully resonate with who you are?

The Self-Care vs. Student-Care Conundrum: You’re dedicated to your students, always going the extra mile to support them academically and emotionally. But lately, you’ve noticed the toll it’s taking on your own well-being. Your energy is dwindling, and burnout is creeping in. Do you set boundaries to protect your own health, even if it means saying no more often? Or do you continue pouring yourself into your students, knowing that they rely on you, but at the risk of running on empty?

The Innovation vs. Tradition Tension: You’ve come across an innovative teaching method that excites you and aligns with your philosophy of education. However, it challenges long-standing traditions within your school or department. Implementing it might disrupt established norms and could face resistance from colleagues or administrators. Do you push forward with the change, believing in its potential to transform learning? Or do you compromise, sticking with traditional methods to maintain harmony and avoid conflict?

The Inclusivity vs. Curriculum Constraints Conflict: You’re passionate about creating an inclusive classroom where every student feels seen and valued. Yet, the curriculum you’re expected to teach feels rigid and outdated, reflecting a narrow range of perspectives. Do you take the risk of modifying the curriculum to better reflect the diversity in your classroom, even if it means extra work and potential pushback? Or do you follow the prescribed curriculum, focusing on the standards, but missing the opportunity to fully embrace inclusivity?

The Personal Beliefs vs. Professional Responsibilities Dilemma: A topic comes up in your class that touches on your deeply held personal beliefs, but it’s controversial and sensitive. You know your students need a balanced, open discussion, but you also feel a strong urge to steer the conversation in a direction that aligns with your values. Do you remain neutral, allowing students to explore and form their own opinions, even if it challenges your beliefs? Or do you subtly guide the discussion, ensuring it aligns more closely with your personal views?

These are the deeper teaching dilemmas—the moments that challenge not just our strategies, but our very identities as educators. They’re the crossroads where our internal values meet the external demands of our profession, where the question isn’t just what to do, but who we are in the doing. And while they may not come with easy answers, they are the fertile ground where true growth as a teacher—and as a person—begins.

Case Study Time!

Let's dive into a case study. (For a deeper dive into examples of teaching dilemmas see this post)

Case Study: The Reflective Odyssey of Jessica and the Authenticity Paradox

Jessica had always prided herself on being a vibrant and passionate teacher. Her classroom was a space of laughter, creativity, and deep connections. She loved incorporating humor, storytelling, and unexpected surprises into her lessons, which brought joy to both her and her students. It was clear that her students felt safe, seen, and eager to learn in this environment.

However, as the years went by, Jessica began to notice a subtle shift within herself. While her students continued to thrive, she often felt a lingering sense of unease after particularly lighthearted lessons. The thought crept in that perhaps she wasn’t being “serious” enough, that her playful approach might undermine her credibility as a professional. Colleagues with more traditional, rigorous teaching styles often seemed to command a different kind of respect, and she couldn't shake the feeling that she should be doing more to fit into that mold.

This tension between her authentic self and the perceived expectations of a “serious” educator became her "felt difficulty." Jessica began to wonder if she was sacrificing depth for the sake of fun, or if she was trying to mold herself into an image of a teacher that wasn’t true to who she really was.

Her reflective journey began with a series of late-night thoughts that she jotted down in her journal. She questioned what it meant to be authentic in her teaching and whether authenticity could coexist with the professional expectations she felt pressured to meet.

She asked herself:

• Am I avoiding depth in my teaching out of fear that students won't take me seriously?

• How do I balance the joy and playfulness that feels true to me with the rigor that my students need?

• What does it mean to be fully myself as a teacher, and how does that impact my students' learning?

Jessica didn’t have immediate answers, but writing these questions helped her clarify the core of her discomfort. She realized that the challenge wasn’t just about balancing fun and rigor; it was about understanding and accepting her identity as a teacher. Could she fully embrace her authentic self in the classroom and still meet the demands of being a “serious” educator?

Jessica then reached out to a few trusted colleagues, not to seek advice, but to engage in a deeper conversation about identity in teaching. She found that many of her peers grappled with similar feelings—of not being “enough” of what they thought a teacher should be. These discussions didn’t solve her dilemma but provided a sense of community and validation. They helped Jessica see that her struggle was not just personal but part of a broader conversation about the evolving nature of teaching.

Through these reflections, Jessica began to see her felt difficulty not as a problem to be solved but as an ongoing inquiry into her identity as an educator. She framed her research question as:

“How can I authentically integrate my playful, joyful teaching style with the rigor and depth required to fully support my students’ academic and personal growth?”

This question didn’t provide an immediate solution, but it offered a guiding star for Jessica’s journey. It reminded her that the path to becoming a fully realized teacher was not about choosing between joy and rigor, but about finding a way to bring her whole self into her practice. It was the beginning of a deeper exploration into what it means to teach authentically, and how that authenticity can be a powerful force in the classroom.

(see this post for how research questions change or this post about not needing the perfect question)

So, how can you unleash your inner educational detective and track down these 'felt difficulties'?

Let's explore!

Step 1: Observe and Identify the Initial Discomfort

• Start by noticing moments in your teaching where you feel a sense of unease, tension, or conflict. These might be fleeting thoughts or recurring feelings that something isn’t quite right.

• Example: Jessica noticed a subtle unease after particularly lighthearted lessons, wondering if she was being “serious” enough.

Step 2: Journal Your Thoughts and Questions

• Take time to write down your thoughts, feelings, and observations. Don’t worry about finding solutions at this stage—focus on capturing the complexity of what you’re experiencing.

• Ask yourself open-ended questions that explore the root of your discomfort. Consider how your feelings align with or contradict your teaching style, values, and professional expectations.

• Example: Jessica asked herself questions like, "Am I avoiding depth in my teaching out of fear that students won't take me seriously?" and "What does it mean to be fully myself as a teacher?"

Step 3: Reflect on Your Identity as a Teacher

• Consider how your teaching style reflects your personal identity. Reflect on whether you feel pressure to conform to a certain image of a “good” teacher that doesn’t fully align with who you are.

• Explore the tension between your authentic self and the professional expectations you perceive. What does this reveal about your deeper concerns or values?

• Example: Jessica reflected on the tension between her playful, joyful teaching style and the seriousness she thought was expected of her.

Step 4: Engage in Conversations with Colleagues

• Reach out to trusted colleagues for informal conversations. Share your feelings and listen to their experiences. These discussions can help validate your feelings and provide new perspectives on your felt difficulty.

• Use these conversations not to seek immediate solutions but to deepen your understanding of the issue.

• Example: Jessica engaged in deeper conversations with colleagues, discovering that many shared similar struggles with their teaching identity.

Step 5: Frame Your Felt Difficulty as a Research Question

• Transform your discomfort into a research question that can guide your reflective journey. This question should be open-ended, allowing for exploration rather than seeking a definitive answer.

• The question should encapsulate the core of your felt difficulty and point towards areas you want to explore further in your teaching practice.

• Example: Jessica framed her felt difficulty as, "How can I authentically integrate my playful, joyful teaching style with the rigor and depth required to fully support my students’ academic and personal growth?"

Step 6: Embrace the Inquiry Process

• Recognize that uncovering a deeper felt difficulty is an ongoing process, not a one-time solution. Your research question may evolve as you continue to reflect and experiment in your teaching.

• Approach your felt difficulty with curiosity and openness, allowing yourself to explore new ways of being and teaching that are true to who you are.

• Example: Jessica understood that her inquiry into teaching authenticity was a journey, not a destination, and that the process itself was a crucial part of becoming a more fully realized teacher.

Step 7: Reflect and Revisit Regularly

• Regularly revisit your research question and the reflections you've documented. Notice any changes in your thoughts, feelings, or teaching practices as you continue your inquiry.

• Adjust your approach as needed, and allow your understanding of your felt difficulty to deepen over time.

• Example: Jessica revisited her reflections and noticed that her understanding of authenticity in teaching evolved as she continued to explore the balance between joy and rigor in her classroom.

So, there you have it! Remember, encountering a 'felt difficulty' isn't a sign of failure—it's a flare signaling an opportunity for exploration, learning, and growth.

And with that, I wish you happy detecting! Keep sniffing out those felt difficulties and turning them into stepping stones for pedagogical prowess.

Until next time!