Description: My best Draft but with A class mates correction notes (press the arrows to see some of Abraham Fenton’s thoughts on my draft)

Pedagogy, the study of teaching and learning. Mainly focusing on how outside influences impact the effectiveness of learning. In addition to exploring and analyzing various perspectives and methods. The effectiveness of a learning method differs from person to person. For me however the main way I have found I retain information and grow as an individual is through my meaningful experiences with family, friends, and colleagues. Growing through the empathetic environment I foster with them and or any misjudgments or errors I make on the way.

To go more in depth, I learned the importance of speaking up for myself in situations and attempting to step farther and farther out of my comfort zone. This helps me not only prevent accidents but also gain new information or perspectives through communication. The moment in which I came to this conclusion is when I was in kindergarten and my teacher sensed that something was amiss due to the fact I wasn’t playing with any toys at play time. She began to interrogate me for more insight as to why I was behaving so peculiarly. It’s important to note that in kindergarten I was somewhat of a selective mute being that talking to people who weren’t in my immediate family made me extremely uncomfortable and or anxious, so my teachers tries at getting me to talk or give any indication to her that I wasn’t playing because of that fact I felt ill made me furious. It felt as though she was trying to make me do something I hated therefore in that moment I also hated her. Needless to say I should have spoken up because at that moment I threw up on her. Remembering the slimy substance drip down her face as her mouth stayed agape combined with the then silent classroom as everyone stared made me feel even worse than talking ever did. It then dawned on me that had I just spoken up in the first place I could have avoided that altercation and my subsequent classroom humiliation. Although the memory always leaves somewhat of a sour taste in my mouth every time I recall it. I feel as though it helped shape the woman I am growing into. It assisted in creating a mindset within me of  “if I don’t help myself who will” , even to this point I struggle with speaking my mind. I try to think back on this mistake and push myself. I voice my opinions and feelings. Not only that but I also feel empathetic towards my teacher at the time. I felt shame not only for me but also for her so in part I try to speak up to avoid hurting the people around me as I did her.

An additional method in which I gain newer levels of understanding is through listening to the past experiences of individuals and formulating an idea and building off of them. An instance in which I experience this form of learning is when my father confided in me about his experience coming to America from west Africa, The Gambia so that I could make something of myself and become a functioning member of America’s economy. At the time I had voiced to my father that I wasn’t sure if I wanted to attend college due to my lack of knowledge, experience, and motivation. It was at that moment that he decided to confide in me that it was important that I go to college for him because he had been denied the opportunity to even attend elementary school since his mother decided his time would be better spent working on a farm with his uncle rather than getting his education. He went on to voice his experience there and going into depth about how he even gave up the knowledge of his own age due to the fact that he had to fake his age in order to travel to America, which to this day he still doesn’t know how old he truly is. As he continued on telling me of his struggles making it in a busy city like New York City in the late nineties. It began to become clear to me that I was squandering an opportunity that my father and many people growing up in west Africa might have prayed for but been denied. I also gained a deeper understanding of my father, who I up then only thought of as a title never caring or wondering about what experiences created him. His story had broken down the idea of a strong man that I carried for many years before that. While it was still true he was a strong man, it was also true that he was a man who sacrificed for me before I even existed. I had taken it upon myself to push myself further into the world of education to take full advantage of a privilege I discovered I had. Looking at my father as a role model as someone who I’m pushing myself for so I can live the life he hoped for.

Last but not least, the third way I learned a lesson is through seeing how my actions impact people and have serious ramifications on not only myself and the people around me but also my social and cultural background. A time I feel best portrays this method of development and growth is when I told my father I no longer wanted to stay a part of his religion. For some context, I had been growing up wearing a hijab, that combined with bratty little girls who only had a viewpoint of American western cultures and traditions made for a difficult time making friends and flourishing in public schools in my early years. Maybe it was because the girls could sense I was an easy mark or maybe it was the hijab I wore at the time was tight around my face making my cheeks look puffy and swollen like I had just been stung by bees. But either way those girls did not like me in the slightest. It was a group of maybe four or five girls that made it their mission to terrorize me. Pulling off my wrap at recess or in the halls taking joy in my struggling to retrieve it. There was this one day in particular which I had finally had enough. One of the girls thought that pulling my wrap off in class seemed like a new adventure she had not yet conquered. She ripped it off and the second I felt the top of my head become colder and the muffled giggles of kids I knew what she did. That was the final straw that broke the camel’s back. Of course, instead of helping me, my teacher sent me home with my dad, I was so frustrated, sad, and embarrassed that I told my dad I didn’t want to be a part of a religion that was looked down on by my classmates and I begged him to raise me be Christian like my mother. He eventually agreed but I remember feeling a pain in my chest because of his face and how sad he looked. I felt shameful at that moment for what I said to him. Feelings of being a disgrace to him and his side of the family welled up inside of me. I feel as though had I decided to stay true to my culture I would have found a love for it despite what those girls had done to me. I shouldn’t have been so quick to give up on it. I should have stood my ground and persevered or even maybe tried to educate those girls on why I wore a headscarf. Although I regret that moment entirely it is a good memory for me to look back to for reasons to stay stubborn in my endeavors and ideals.

All of these experiences, while heavy on my heart, all accomplished the goal of teaching me my main ideals and aided in developing me as a person. Because although they were all mistakes in some form or another they were all also learning opportunities in which I learned that my actions do have consequences, the value of standing up for myself no matter the situation, my priorities and privileges over others, and finally my need to stand up for where I’m from and my families ideals/ values. It’s not the mistakes but it’s what I did to build on or fix those mistakes that helped educate me.