Dungeons & Dragons

I have long experience with tabletop roleplaying games such as Dungeons & Dragons (D&D), and I make frequent comparison between D&D and teaching, and draw skills and techniques from D&D to use in teaching.

For example:

Old-school gamers, of the bygone era when Gygax and Arneson invented the genre, often subscribe to the school of thought that D&D is, and should be, adversarial: the Dungeon Master (DM) seeking to kill and destroy the player characters; the players seeking to survive the DM's depredations and emerge victorious.

The newer school of thought, in which I am a believer, is that D&D is collaborative: the DM seeks to challenge the players without killing their characters; the players seek to overcome those challenges; and through this everyone cooperatively has fun and tells a story.

Similarly, many students (and, if you believe those students, some teachers) think that school is adversarial: the teacher's goal is to fail the students, and the students' goal is to put forth the minimum effort possible to pass. In fact, school is, or should be, collaborative: the teacher's goal is to help students grow into more complete human persons, by, among other things, putting surmountable challenges in their way; the students' goal should be to overcome those challenges and thereby grow as persons.

For another example:

As a DM, I have often espoused a technique of "Yes, And" (a technique itself yoinked from improv comedy, where it is used to always build and never impede the momentum of a scene). Whenever a player asks if they can do something, telling them "yes, and" if possible -- giving them a positive answer and building on it -- it is most fun and interesting for everybody; a straight "yes" is fine, and "yes, but" (you can do it, if you succeed at this dice roll, or else at some cost) can also be interesting; any variety of "no" is to be frowned upon, but "no, but" -- you can't do it, but here's what you can do that's close -- is least bad.

Similarly, building on everything students say ("yes, and") boosts engagement and makes class more fun and productive for everybody; finding a way to point out something good or correct in anything a student says, even if what they're saying is not overall correct ("no, but"), boosts confidence and builds rapport. 

Speaking English Correctly

If an idea originating in your brain successfully ends up, more or less intact, in my brain, then you have used language correctly -- regardless of such niceties as formality level, spelling, complexity of grammar, or number of emojis you use. If the idea ends up mangled or isn't transferred at all, then you have used language incorrectly. That is the only valid metric for correct and incorrect language use.

Language may be used suboptimally, in that e.g. failing to modulate your formality level to your audience can reduce your audience's opinion of you. (Which goes both ways -- the problem looms equally large whether you're speaking lolcat at an academic conference or using $10 words and academic jargon to trash-talk your Fortnite opponents.)

High-stakes standardized exams, colleges, and many employers all expect a certain level of mastery of formal Standard American English (SAE). I, as a teacher, am expected to prepare students for standardized tests and job and college applications. There is some tension here between this expectation and my personal beliefs.

Personally, my natural mode of communication is somewhat formal (even, some might say, highfalutin') SAE, occasionally meshed with the jargon of Internet memes, so I can naturally teach SAE by modelling it, and by assigning readings of SAE, and I can teach code-meshing by modelling it. Reprimanding students for 'improper' informal English serves more ill purposes than good ones, and vocabulary words and quizzes are well-established in the literature as being of limited value.

Not every assignment should require formal SAE writing -- it is effectively a foreign language for some students, who may more naturally speak, for example, African-American Vernacular English. To require mastery of SAE exclusively privileges some students (mostly white) over other students (mostly Black and English Language Learners), regardless of whether or not they have good or creative ideas, and regardless of what we're actually interested in assessing: whether or not they understand the content. Requiring mastery of SAE to the exclusion of all other Englishes is not just testing the fish against the squirrel on their tree-climbing abilities (as the quote commonly misattributed to Albert Einstein goes); it may be tantamount to requiring the student fish and squirrel to first walk to the tree they'll be tested on climbing.

The Lion

"The lion does not concern himself with the opinions of the sheep." -- Tywin Lannister, Game of Thrones

When students verbally bully one another, this is the best advice I can give to the victim: reacting gives them power over you; it makes them think you care about their opinion, which only entices them to bully you more. The opinions of bullies should, in fact, be beneath you. (Of course, when I witness bullying, I do try to step in and request everyone always be respectful towards everyone. But that advice for situations where I'm not present.)

Similarly, when students attempt to say disrespectful things to or about me (whether the disrespect is intended or accidental), I tend to react with, at most, gentle bafflement.

In the same vein, it does not concern me whether I am students' favorite or least favorite teacher; really, I'm basically indifferent to whether they even like me at all. As long as I am doing my best to be both kind and effective (I aspire to the "warm demander" archetype of teacher), some students will love me, some will loathe me, and most will be somewhere in the middle. I do not feel any need nor desire to be these teenagers' friend, though I always try to be their ally and comrade.