Professionalism

Once upon a time, to be professional was much to be desired.  Now it is a bit more ambivalent.  Where I work, in education, "professionalism" and its various conjugates have mutated, and are now used as weapons.  If an administrator does not like your attitude, decisions or dress, (s)he will question your professionalism.  It rarely if ever has a positive connotation in actual usage.  Professionalism is the concept by which we measure our inadequacies.

My guess is that this is not confined to the ream of the educator. We Americans have an energized ambivalence to “experts”, and “professional” edges right up to it.  We want and expect the best.  The best quality, the best value, the best deal, the best steak, the best doctor and the best mechanic.  Experts tend to have a monopoly in the “best” category, but those “experts”, we think, probably think they’re better than us.  Because they’re experts.  If you want the best, you need to deal with people who think they’re better than you, and that’s not particularly comfortable.  Actually, it sucks.  So there you go.

There are several ways to deal with this.  One is to acknowledge the expertise of the person you are dealing with, with the understanding that you are an expert in a different, and more important area.  It works like this ( imagine a thought balloon, as hardly anybody would actually say this out loud): “You may be a neurosurgeon, but I’m the only one who really knows just how bad I feel, how quickly I will recover, and exactly what I want the outcome to be.  Those are the things that really matter - your skills are simply a means to the end about which I am the expert.”  Or “Yes, you are an architect, which I certainly could have become had I not (a) become a neurosurgeon (b) been busy raising these amazing children ( c) taken over the family business, and dealt with real world issues, like providing quality manicures (d) been high all the time.  In any case, I and I alone know what I want, and that is what is important, so do what I say.  Expertly.”

Another way to compensate for another’s competence is to imply that their field of expertise is, in and of itself, unimportant.  I mean, anyone can paint a house.  Anyone can tighten and loosen pipes.  All those therapists do is talk, and anyone can do that.  This is really effective, because it is often true - anyone can do those things.  Just not expertly.

As a teacher, I get to deal with these attitudes regularly.  Many parents believe that their occupation, profession, or job is definitely more important that teaching.  Those that can, do - those that can’t teach.  I mean, anyone could do that!  And, of course, they are correct on the last point - anybody can teach.  Just not expertly.

However gratifying pointing out the banal predictability of people who denigrate my profession may be, is not really what I want to get at.  It’s something a bit more general.  It is about our attitude about experts, and how it may be keeping ourselves from experiencing more of what it really can feel like to be a human - things that just a generation or two ago were part of normal human experience, but now are rarely experienced at all, and if they are it is often anemic, restricted, or (worst of all) ironic way.  Coming soon.  Pax.