My earliest experiences teaching in a classroom were both powerful and humbling. Being responsible for my students' knowledge terrified me. My obligation to impart knowledge forced me to work very hard. I spent hours in the library mastering my material. How could I not? I had to be an authority. I had to teach everything. I could not predict what my students would be able to retain from the course, or what they would need to know for the exam. What if my students all failed? This would reflect badly on me, and I would be a failure.

My desire not to fail my students, and to drag them into knowledge, compelled me to take very tight reins in my tutorial. As I soon learned, that was my first mistake. The classroom is a dynamic environment. TAs have authority in the classroom: we mark, grade, and assess students' knowledge. However, students are also a very powerful force. TAs and students work and learn together. My practice of dragging students toward knowledge was my downfall and ultimately my liberation. My experience of failure in the classroom did not come from any lack of preparedness–I had my own learning style–and I had given thought to many complex teaching issues. I had developed solutions to specific problems. Yet, despite all my thinking and planning, I experienced a failure which ultimately led me to re-evaluate my philosophy of teaching.

My earliest teaching experiences led me to develop a particular teaching style, one that was controlling, where I tried to "force" students to learn. Teaching styles can be loosely defined as models, stepping-stones or strategies to facilitate learning in the classroom. For instance, one effective teaching style is the Socratic method where the facilitator poses questions for students to answer. As another example, in the discipline of English, teaching tends to centre on particular texts, and involves close reading and analyzing passages. Whatever the style, however, the main objectives are to impart knowledge and create an environment where learning can occur.

But how do we impart knowledge? How can we create an environment where learning can occur? In teaching English literature, how can we teach students to master content when quite often only one or two classes are devoted to a specific text? And again, how can we most effectively use that finite time in tutorial when other issues can arise and interfere with teaching new content, such as questions about the lecture? Furthermore, what is learning? Is learning a specific and definable thing? Or is it dynamic and ever changing? Is the classroom static? Are the students static?

These are very difficult and complex questions that I attempted to address through thinking, planning and implementing helpful strategies. In my discipline, English, learning is enhanced through critical thinking, close reading of critical texts and passages, and honing communication and writing skills. Mastering content in a few short tutorials was problematic–my solution was to spread out my goals and objectives for the students' understanding of the material over the course of the year. Also, I assess their comprehension with brief reviews and questionnaires administered periodically.

Moreover, I have found that neither the classroom nor students are static. Students change from year to year, and class dynamics differ from one tutorial to the next. In addition, as facilitators we need to be sensitive to other issues that produce and affect students' learning, such as gender and race dynamics and students' different educational and financial backgrounds. Students do not all learn at the same pace. Some students are more receptive to visual aids. Some students learn best when there is a clear methodology. I have found that an outline of the issues to be covered or objectives to be achieved on the blackboard or in handouts is a wonderful learning aid. Similarly, an outline of the goals for the course–such as, by the end of a unit students are expected to have a keen knowledge of the course material to enable them to formulate ideas and discuss certain issues–helps students stay on track. Adaptability and flexibility in our teaching styles are crucial to tackling limitations and other constraints.

But even with all of my thinking, researching, planning, and adapting it was still possible for me to see failure in what I saw as my duty–teaching and nurturing learning. I still remember my first such experience, I was teaching Shakespeare, and the play we were studying was one I found to be particularly intriguing and provoking. My students, however, were not as intrigued, or so it seemed to me. So I tried everything I could to motivate them. I tried to lighten the atmosphere with a silly joke. I moved around the classroom, trying to inject enthusiasm. I divided the class into groups, usually a wonderful way to generate discussions. I tried the question and answer method. All of these efforts were met with silence and downcast eyes. I saw students looking at the clock, indicating boredom and disinterest. Worse, I saw the blank look that students can get when they just don't get it. I remember walking out of the classroom that day feeling dejected, thinking that I had failed my students. I felt so strongly about my responsibilities to my students that I demanded nothing less than the best from myself. What I didn't realize until later is that students also have a responsibility for their education, and sometimes they fail themselves.

I had come to class that day with a genuine interest in helping my students learn. I was dedicated, passionate and excited about the material. Despite my best efforts, I had been unable to drag them into learning - I could not even nurture or encourage them. They simply refused to participate. I believe students realized that I was working as hard as I possibly could, because later some of them apologized for their passivity. One student even said that she appreciated my efforts; she then revealed that she found Shakespeare's language difficult. Now having some idea of what produced her silence, I was able to work toward overcoming her difficulty. I had assumed that the text was straightforward and uncomplicated. I had assumed incorrectly. I learned not to assume what my students know. In addition, having assignments due in other classes, many students had not prepared for my class. From this failure, I discovered that I should not rely on even my best students to have understood the material. I thought that with control, I could make the students learn. I also realized that I had assumed all the responsibility for learning. Students have to come to knowledge. I realized that, even with the best intentions, my teaching style stifled learning. I had to learn to loosen the reins.

My failure in the classroom is also my greatest success. I still want too much. I still want to instill my love of literature in my students. However, I have learned that this is my love, not theirs. I have learned that students have their own goals and reasons for being in the classroom. Students do not always demand the best of themselves, or sometimes they are simply tired, overworked and overwhelmed. I felt failure primarily because I care, and because I genuinely believe that we can make a difference in the classroom. However, I also came to realize that my assumptions about learning do not always match the students.

Through this experience, I realized that teaching is learning. Just as learning is a lifelong process, so is teaching a lifelong journey of growth, exploration, and even sometimes failure.