Wow! My computer is ringing off the hook. The the tips of my
fingers are raw, my knuckles ache, my wrists feel like carpel tunnel
surgery is around the corner. I have received a mountain of responses to
my last Random Thought. So, this morning, for the sake of my hands, I beg
your indulgence. I hope those whom I have not yet answered will allow me
to respond in this manner. I assure you that my intent is no less
personal and sincere. And, I apologize for the repetition to those with
whom I have already talked.
All these messages brought to mind, a passage in Robert
Pirsig's ZEN AND THE ART OF MOTORCYCLE MAINTENANCE. It goes something
like this: peace of mind produces right values, right values produce right
thoughts, right thoughts produce right actions, and right actions are for
others to see that love is the center of everything.
That applies to teaching as well, for teaching is a part of the
life Pirsig is talking about. So, as in life, in the spirit of Pirsig,
teaching is ultimately love made visible. It is love in action. If
someone goes into the classroom without that peace of mind, but only with
distaste and/or resignation better for all that person should leave the
classroom.
Too many of us academics have a favorite semantic dodge. So many
of us talk about loving the student but disliking the student's lack of
discipline, weak commitment, apathy, unpreparedness, etc. Unfortunately,
that statement has often becomes a meaningless cliche because far too many
academics too often fall short of the mark of truly loving the student for
whomever that student may be. Far too many have not exhibited an ability
or inclination to break the barriers between teacher and student, build a
bridge to the student, and form a bond with the student. Far too many are
inclined to dominate, control and possess, and demand students submit.
Far too many are inclined to say, more as weeders than nurturers, "Go
somewhere else. You don't belong on our campus. We don't need or want you
here."
No, teaching is not apart from life; it's not protected from life
in the isolating ivory tower as some of us are so desperate to believe.
It's a delusion, for what too many see as protection is really
imprisonment. When I started breaking out from my self-imposed cell and
realized that teaching is a part of life, my life, the only one I have,
the only one I know, and I found myself struggling to figure out how to
live my life the best I can, I discovered that I had to make teaching the
best I can.
You know, in all the nine years since that fateful 1991 October
day at Hyde School when I had my epiphany, I have asked myself just what
was the fundamental lesson I had learned. I've thought about that a lot
over the years. The answer is like taking away all the fluff, reducing
everything I have shared, everything I feel, everything I do down to its
molecular structure.
I learned, the hard way, that if I was asking myself questions of
myself, and that is a very big if, I was asking the wrong questions. I
would ask myself "Hey Schmier, what do you know?" And, "Louis, how are
you teaching this?" And maybe, "Hey, why are you doing it this way?"
But, always, "What's wrong with them?" What a rationalizing out is that
last question. As a new found virtual friend, Sandra Wales, reminded me,
if you say a student is lazy or unskilled or lacks potential (I don't know
how anyone would be able to peer into the future and know that in the
present), you tend to blame the student and won't take responsibility for
your teaching. But if you call the student unmotivated, that implies a
faith in that student's unique potential and that you can find the
motivation for him to learn. The same applies, I discovered, to myself.
Until that fateful day, I would never ask the real questions, the
probing questions, the penetrating questions, the seminal questions:
"What's wrong with you" and "Who the hell are you." For years, as I say so
often, I was always doing what I always had done and getting what I always
had gotten because I always was thinking and feeling the way I always had
thought and felt. I had created a neat comfort zone of excuse,
rationalization, explanation. That was not, never is, or never will be a
recipe for discovery, adventure, growth, vitality, development, strength,
courage, and change.
So, I learned that if I want to hit the mark of being a good
teacher, I have to aim at myself. I have to take an honest, hard, and
penetrative inventory of myself. I have to first teach myself, for if I
can't find the truth in myself, where can I find it because it all begins
and ends there. Like a nut, I discovered I had to crack my hard outer
shell if the delicious meat inside is to come out and be tasted.
I struggled and am still struggling and will continue to struggle
to change the way I always had thought and felt. The journey is unending.
I now have a voracious appetite for self-knowledge. The transfigured
Louis Schmier is spiritually grounded, psychologically sound,
intellectually informed, and physically fit. I negotiated, still
negotiate, and will continue to negotiate hard for balance in my life, in
all aspects of my life including teaching. And as I slowly change, I find
that I do less and less of what I always had done and get more and more
out of what I get. Like life, it is that simple; it is that hard; it is
that complicated. It's implications are vastly more complex and
difficult. And, it is that amazing.
Make it a good day.
--Louis--
Louis Schmier [EMAIL PROTECTED]
Department of History http://www.halcyon.com/arborhts/louis.html
Valdosta State University
Valdosta, GA 31698 /~\ /\ /\
912-333-5947 /^\ / \ / /~\ \ /~\__/\
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-_~ / "If you want to climb mountains, \ /^\
_ _ / don't practice on mole hills" - \____
