In formal settings we tend to pretend that the Master and the Student are operating on entirely different planes. The one is passing knowledge and technique down to the other, like a mama bird feeding her babies. Even as the tales of Socrates teaching through questions and dialogue, even as our own favorite moments at school in no way resemble such "pouring down of content," the convenient, dualistic language we use about education continues to cast its Victorian shadow on many of today's classrooms and lecture halls.
The longer I (get to) teach, the more I experience the vital role my love of learning plays in every moment of a successful class or learning activity I'm involved in. If my lesson plan is set, based on a top-down curriculum, and especially if I feel required to "teach to the test," then the creativity inherent in this activity is put on rails and runs on a set schedule. This may give one a sense of purpose and a feeling of security, but it is at first curious and strange, then disorienting and finally suffocating to those who come to learn.
The very best I have to offer, no matter which subject matter the focus may be, is my thoughtful awareness of what is happening right now with my student or students. By aiming for responsiveness and careful listening, I not only empower my students through my genuine interest in our learning/teaching, but also I make very clear that learning can be exciting all through one's life.
Do the insights I've shared here inoculate me from inept teaching? Clearly not. I just finished a Fall season of teaching three classes and mentoring eight students. It is thrilling to be back, working & playing directly with young folks again. One of those classes was for 2nd and 3rd graders, one that parents sign their kids up for.
Well, it turned out that three of the second grade boys did NOT want to be in an after-school creative writing class. They wanted to run and play. And I was rusty on how to re-channel that dispersive energy toward our common goal. Even as I struggled through a number of sessions where it seemed I was using most of my creative energy for finding effective modes of discipline, I knew that the answers stood before me. And not only could I be guided by attending to each challenge in an open manner, I had lots of support from the other ten children who very much wanted to write.
There is no one best way of teaching. Au contraire, there are as many good ways of teaching as there are good teachers. Like parenting, there's no matriculation from the job of learning from the young. In many ways I find being a teacher now as exciting and as challenging as I did 42 years ago when I started.
I've observed that young people sing less through the day than we used to as children. I've experienced a seeming ongoing deterioration of the youngsters' attention spans. And, especially in working with the very privileged offspring of Silicon Valley's movers and shakers, I have noticed both subtle and blatant forms of entitlement behavior in both children and teenagers. Instead of wringing my hands, I get to offer them opportunities to sing, and to engage in all-absorbing projects, and the chance to help awaken my students to the lives of others in this world. How rich is my life as educator.
Dear Readers, recent and longtime, I wish you many opportunities to experience contact with those you care about and those you will meet in the New Year. Good cheer!