I have more questions about developing and teaching critical skills than I have answers. But I do think as TA - people with the power to pass or fail a student and influence how they digest a course and its content - that we have a unique challenge before us. I see it as the challenge of exploring and developing approaches to our teaching which don't assume or make judgments about where students should be at, but which illuminate, accept, and work with where they really are at. If expanding student's capacity for thinking, reading and writing 'critically' is our primary objective (and getting widespread agreement on that might be a good start), then the first step becomes one of understanding the life experience, the perspectives and abilities, the desires and aspirations, that students bring with them.

My TAship is the first job I've accepted without an interview. I don't recall anyone asking me if I could 'teach', how I understood the role of a TA or even which course I felt competent/comfortable 'TAing'. Two months before starting the PhD program at FES, I received a letter offering me an appointment as Teaching Assistant, and directing me to article 10.02 of the collective agreement (the closest to a job description that I've seen). TA workshops hosted by FES and the Centre for the Support of Teaching have provided some direction (and solace), however the pedagogy of teaching at FES remains unclear to me.

My teaching experience and perspective is flavoured by my background in social work (community organizing and development to be specific) and the fact that I am returning to academia after more than fifteen years in the 'field'. I find the spectrum of students has expanded considerably since my own undergraduate days. There are students who have just celebrated their seventeenth birthday and others well past their thirtieth. There are some whose English language skills are a serious obstacle to their participation in tutorials/lectures and in successfully completing assignments. There are also those whose life experience is dominated by being white, middle class, heterosexual, suburbia (all of which describes me actually), and others whose social location is anything but. There are students who have been discouraged from (and actually fear) asking questions, thinking critically, and whose potential is untapped and often unknown, perhaps even to them. There are others, who quietly and brilliantly absorb and dissect everything they read, hear and feel, and whose work I am humbled by. Many students are juggling school commitments, with that of family and work - both paid and unpaid.

I am now in the midst of my second appointment, and the two courses I've TA'd in couldn't be more different. Both were foundation environmental studies courses (with enrollments of between 150-300 students). One was more 'content'- oriented, aimed at providing students with an overview of concepts and methods characterizing environmental studies; while the second was a 'process'-focused workshop course on environmental research and action. During the contentoriented course I found myself scrambling alongside my students to understand the concepts and wealth of information being presented, and struggling to design tutorials that were meaningful and relevant. At the end of the year, a number of students told me that although they enjoyed our debates and discussions, they would have preferred I focus more on distilling the content of the lectures.

The workshop course I'm TAing in this year, which draws on an Aboriginal framework of learning and knowing, resonates more closely with my own experience and background in action research and organizing. Yet in spite of feeling more comfortable (and inspired) with the approach and content of the course, my struggle to connect with students - to design and lead tutorials, which speak and build on their life experience, their knowledge base and ways of knowing, and their skill set- has actually intensified.

The position of TA I find to be powerfully dis-empowering, if that makes any sense. I don't 'direct' the course or its lectures (in terms of content, approach, or components), nor do I develop the exams, or assignments (which I mark). Yet, I spend the greatest amount of time with students, field most of their questions, concerns and anxieties, and in the end, determine who passes, who fails, and by how much.

It has become clearer to me, through writing this article that lectures and tutorials are two distinct and separate, but connected processes, and should be designed as such. A tutorial should take the time to discover and incorporate who the students are (their life experiences, perspectives, interests and aspirations), it should relate to but not follow a lecture and integrate techniques which encourage self-directed, critical thinking and learning.

In the last issue of CORE (14: 1 p.5-6), Sarah Parsons wrote about teaching art history using a pedagogical strategy, which I found particularly helpful. She recommends 'tethering abstract debates to something tangible (concrete texts or images), giving every student an entry point into the discussion'. She suggests modeling various approaches to critical articles, texts, statements or visual objects, followed by very specific group discussions (i.e. applying a 'jigsaw' instructional strategy to a reading or particular film), which she believes enables students to bring their own voice to the discussion. I'm hopeful that by aspiring to make student's voices (and essence) a fundamental part of every course/tutorial, as Parson's does, that I will judge and assume less, and inspire and connect more.