Monday Metaphor: Barbecue Guy

All you really need is a flame

There's a scene from an old Simpson's Episode where Lisa hides the Teacher's Editions and the staff lounge becomes a version of Lord of the Flies. It seems that the teachers are unable to teach well if they don't have their "resources." I thought about this episode in the midst of a "training" (sales pitch) from the textbook company. She explained the CD-ROM (apparently people still use those), the textbook, the teacher's editions (yes that is plural), the website, the handout creator, the game-maker, the test-generator, the student workbooks, the hands-on learning activity guide, the overhead transparencies, the PowerPoint-styled presentations.

The sad thing is that a few teachers felt that they needed all of this. To them, the more resources, the better off they would be. It was like an all-you-can-eat buffet, when no one should ever be eating all-you-can-eat. Does a teacher really need that much? Shouldn't teachers create their own resources? Don't get me wrong. I'm all for sharing ideas, looking at other people's lesson plans, even borrowing resources. However, it seems that there is a point when it becomes saturation; when a teacher becomes the Barbecue Guy.

The Barbecue Guy is the man who has racks of various spices, subscribes the barbecue magazine, watches the Barbecue Channel online, goes to the barbecue workshops and cook-offs, who orders the extra aprons, buys multiple utensils and takes the time to learn what they are called and reads the barbecue books. Yet, he misses the reality that the best barbecues require a flame and a hunk of animal flesh. Something to turn it over would be nice, but a real man will use his bare hands (Disclaimer: for the record, this blog does not condone the use of bare-handed grilling. The reference was meant as mere hyperbole)

I teach best when I have fewer resources. It forces me to be creative and to design and custom-fit resources to the context of my classroom. I am better off having a blank canvas and painting something beautiful than ordering prints from 120 artists, complete with a users guide, a CD-ROM, a guidebook and handbook and resourcebook and whatever other book they can toss at me. When I can ditch the Barbecue Guy personna and simply teach, the lessons turn out better.