This is still young and I'm not sure exactly where it is headed - basically I haven't written anything for quite awhile, and I'm trying to get back in shape. Any feedback is welcome. Pax.

Saturday 6 October 2012

Conclusions Regarding Teaching (and maybe other things...)


I have been fortunate to work with teachers and teenagers for the past twenty years. Both of these groups are populated with interesting, brilliant, delightful, generous people. And those other people too. At their best, these are people that make you feel, think, and act better than you actually are. At their worst, you understands felonies through a whole new, more sympathetic lens. I have been on both ends of the continuum, both as a student and as a teacher. I have come to some conclusions which may be accurate, and they may not, but they help me stay on the tightrope, instead of strangling someone with it. If you work in one of those schools where students are expected to be jerks, and teachers are expected to be unarmed police, then you are in need of more than I can give, and reading this will probably just piss you off. Sorry.

Conclusion #1 – You don't have to like them, but you do have to do your job. This goes for both students and teachers. You want to like them all, to see the value in their unique contributions, but it ain't gonna happen. With students, this is particularly tricky, because I really do like most of them, especially individually. In groups the Knucklehead Factor tends to be exaggerated, but if you know what they are like by themselves, it is much easier to respond. But there are those other students. Usually they are not the kids that “act out” (teacher for “be an asshole”), have “trouble staying on-task” (teacher for “goofing-off), or who “do poorly on their work” (teacher for, well, “do poorly on their work). Most of those kids are engaging – they are offering an opportunity to interact, and they usually are responsive, if you can be creative enough. It's the kids who won't react at all, who do C-/D+ work, never talk, and resist participation in any activity that tend to get to me. They rarely look at you, and when you do talk to them they look at you as if you are a moron for not recognizing the wall around them. These kids are very careful to keep any and all traits that you might like stashed away where you will never see them. Hard to like them. And it's sometimes infuriating that they sit in your class, and refuse to avail themselves of the gift that is you.

But that's their choice, and they do have a choice. A person can simply choose to not engage. Or, they may choose to engage with other teachers, just not you. So you do your job. You put the good stuff in front of them, you do what you can to convince them that if they take it they will be better off, you make sure that their parental units are aware of what is happening, and you keep an eye on them. They don't want you to, but you do anyway. That's the job. As for teachers, reread this, substitute “teachers” for “kids”, and “supervisor” for “parent”, and it's about right.

Conclusion #2 – Mobility is essential. I used to call this “flexibility”, but some people don't like the idea of other persons determining what they should do, so now I call it “mobility”. See how I did that? They made me change my word, but I get what I want, so I'm cool with that. Watch a good tennis player getting ready to receive a serve. The player will usually sway back and forth, and then, as the opponent goes into the toss, their feet will start moving, almost like they are jogging in place. They don't know where the serve will be, and they need to be moving, ready to react. They don't complain that the opponent made them move, or feel bad because they were not perfectly placed before the serve and had to adjust – their job is to be ready to return the serve, wherever it is.

We need to be like that, and it's hard. We are not in a game of batting things back and forth . We want our students to get somewhere, to advance, to come further into this wonderful world of rational thought, interesting people and ideas, and skills to discover, interpret, evaluate, and use them. And, often, they don't wanna go. They are happy right where they are, thank you very much. And so you try to pull them along, and that is where it all goes wrong. When you pull something, it digs in its heels. It tries to go the other way. It becomes invested in resisting you. It needs you to fail. We know this – what we sometimes don't realize is that we started it. When you try to pull something, the very first thing you do is it plant your feet, which is a nicer way of saying “dig in your heels”. You try to get them to go the other way. You become invested in resisting, and you need your “opponent” to yield. And we are teaching this.

Mobility. You can't move with your feet firmly placed, and we want our students and ourselves to move. If a student is stuck, there are tools that they can use, and there are tools that we can use, there are dances we can do, and there are shiny things that we can flash in front of them. If we can't create a situation where the student chooses to move, then we have a problem that can't be solved by just pulling. As for teachers, reread this, and, well, you know,

Conclusion #3 – We have to take care of each other. This is true of many professions, but it is especially true for teachers (and for ministers, but that's a different thing). We need to get what recognition we get from other teachers, and we need to recognize that need. Students are delightful (sometimes), and it is wonderful when they realize that we did something that helped them, that changed them. But we can't rely on them. We can't put students in that position, and we can't look for our affirmation from them. It is not fair, it is not helpful, and it is not their job. Administrators can be excellent, they can be helpful, and they can teach us much, but their job is different. It is not their job to pay attention to who is in need of support, advice, or a drink, and we would not want it to be. We have to take care of our own. We don't have to stand all together in a circle and sing “What A Wonderful World”. We don't have to be all together – you have your little group that takes care of each other, and I'll have mine, and we may even talk shit about the other group. It doesn't matter. What matters is that in this job, we need to keep an eye on each other, and we need someone to keep an eye on us.

And that, I think, is it. The Thing. The Holy Grail. The Hokey Pokey. Do your job, stay mobile, keep an eye on each other, and usually everything is gonna be alright. Pax.

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