As I sit on my couch and look around my apartment, I see that my shelf follows a grid-like pattern, so do the keys on my keyboard. Now I’m thinking beyond my apartment and how Vancouver city follows a grid-like pattern and how the windows on the building across from my apartment are in grid form, too. I think about nature and search for a photo of a zoomed-in leaf and discover a beautiful system of grid-like designs.
So, I wonder why we see such a pattern in both spatial and conceptual structures. As discussed in the article, grids exist all around us, and “we are a culture in love with the grid”. This may be due to our natural gravitation towards feeling safe and perhaps wanting to combat overwhelming feelings and/or promote convenience. The lines of a grid can act like supportive structures while also creating a restrictive presence; this is an idea that I’ve had concerns about when it comes to teaching. The rigid boxes that I may need to fit into as a new teacher scare me, but the familiarity of timetables, organized curriculum, and a yearly calendar are comforting. Having to find a balance and be able to ‘swing dance and parkour’ the grid is both an exciting and terrifying process; I worry that I need a lot of experience before I can do so effectively, but I also realize that the process could allow for exploration and creative discovery. I feel that this is the thrill of teaching and what has really pushed me to take up the profession. It’s like riding a rollercoaster; I may be terrified at times, but the ride is intended to be enjoyed. What I wonder about now is how strongly will I be influenced by the established teachers I meet in the future. How will I fare in a school with teachers and administration that strongly rely on the ‘grid’ or strongly detest it? What do I do if during my practicum my potential school advisor is a diehard grid fan when I am not? I also wonder how else we could combat an ‘indoor versus outdoor’ school culture.
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