A chilly good morning. I just got a message from Kenny "demanding"
another word
from "My Dictionary of Good Teaching." That's curious since I had been
thinking about him
on my walk this pre-dawn morning and had realized I hadn't sent him a word in
quite a
while. This morning I sent him the word, "power." Let me explain as I did to
him.
Actually, I sent him two words. "Play-Doh" was the other one.
Before I got side-tracked by Play-Doh, however, during the interminable
waits in
the Greensboro and Atlanta airports, between bouts of studying my Chinese, I
thought of
all those conversations I had at the conference, Bill "Shoes" Johnson's
session, of being
one of the "lucky" three to accept the dare to do an interpretive dance of my
educational
philosophy in front of a couple of hundred people (Nureyev, eat your heart
out), of later
hearing a number of academics saying, like so many students would, "I would
have been
mortified" and "I'd be afraid of embarrassing myself" and "I could never do
that" and "I
would have died if...."
I was thinking how nearly seventeen years ago, before my epiphany, I
would have
felt the same way, though I would not have shown it. I realize now that all
those
advanced degrees, all that professional training, all those appointments, all
those
resumes don't make a lot of people happy, don't stop so many of them from
feeling so
insecure, don't stop so many of them from telling themselves what they couldn't
do, don't
stop so many of them from focusing on what could go wrong, don't stop so many
of them from
looking over their shoulders and worrying what others thought. And, they don't
stop so
many people from building protective walls without realizing those same walls
imprison
them. Not surprisingly, in sessions and conversations many shied away from
putting
themselves on the line, avoided challenge and controversy, preferred to hedge
their bets,
deployed defensive arguments of "if only" or "they expect" or "the system
demands" that
seem to absolve them from the responsibilities of making decisions or taking
action, laid
blame on others, and gave over control of themselves to others by allowing
those others to
create their future.
I looked out the airport waiting area windows and realized that the
planes taxing
and taking off needed fuel to power them if they were to do what they were
designed to do.
It's no different with us. We need fuel to power us. Now, you've heard that
knowledge is
that power. If that is true, why do so many academics feel so powerless? I
certainly am
not talking about the kind of knowledge so many are. I am not talking about
knowing
information or knowing the technology or knowing the teaching methods and
techniques
however important they are. I am talking about knowing of the power we each
have to shape
our attitudes and actions, to forge and guide our values, to maintain our
integrity and
authenticity, to defeat our fears and doubts, to influence our choices, to make
those
choices, and to live them. I am talking about the fuel in our tanks; I am
talking about
inner personal strength; I am talking about the fuel that allows us to take off
and raise
our expectations; I am talking about the power that drives commitment,
perseverance and
endurance; I am talking about the power that gives us courage to take risks and
the daring
to make mistakes; I am talking about the fuel of self-confidence and
self-esteem and
self-respect. I am talking about the power of unlearning learned helplessness.
I am
talking about the power of personal control. It is the power of self-efficacy.
Without
that kind of power, we're like a very expensive car sitting in the driveway
with a dead
battery.
Yeah, "power," my kind of power, is a word I'll send to Kenny from "My
Dictionary
of Good Teaching.".
Make it a good day.
--Louis--
Louis Schmier
http://therandomthoughts.edublogs.org/
Department of
History http://www.newforums.com/Auth_L_Schmier.asp
Valdosta State University www. halcyon.com/arborhts/louis.html
Valdosta, Georgia 31698 /\ /\ /\ /\
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