It’s 3:45 am.  Can’t sleep.  Maybe I was thinking about a phone 
call I got
last night.  It was from a student whom I’ll call Jane.  Her voice had a 
trembling,
pleading, desperate tone to it.  I could tell she had been crying.  “Dr 
Schmier, I need
someone I can talk to.  If I don’t, I’ll explode.  I have so much work to do.  
I just
can’t do it.  It all seems so small.  You’re the only one I have to turn to.  
Do you have
a few minutes for me?  Please. Just a few minutes.  Promise.”  I went into the 
dark living
room, sat down, and listened to sobbing, confused words and broken sentences.  
The few
promised minutes ran into over an hour.  She talked about her semester-long 
distracting,
depressing, and near paralyzing agony, and it was truly agony.   That’s all 
I’ll say about
what was tearing out her guts.  It was not the first time I had listened to 
her, and it
was not the first time she refused to talk with a trained counselor.  She ended 
with
“Thanks.  Now I don’t feel alone.”  

 

            That last word, “alone,” stuck with me.  So, as I sat on the porch 
in the
rainy dawn sipping a hot cup of freshly brewed coffee, as the beauty of the day 
drove back
the dark, I was thinking about Jane, about how the beauty of connection drove 
back the
dark of isolation, and about elephants.  Yes, elephants.  Why?  Because there 
are
elephants in the room all over our campuses.  There is so much isolation, 
disconnection,
aloneness, and loneliness on our campuses among both students and faculty.  
Rousseau was
right. We humans are wired to connect.  We don’t do well when we perceive and 
feel that
we‘re alone. We don’t like isolation.  We need and want and seek the company and
companionship of others.  Our brains are designed to be social.  Daniel Goleman 
in his
Emotional Intelligence and Primal Leadership tells us that; Richard Boyatzis in 
his
Resonant Leadership tells us that; Edward Deci in his Why We Do What We Do tell 
us that;
Jacqueline Olds and Richard Schwartz tell us that in their Lonely American  ; a 
recent
study by Nicholas Christakis, of Harvard Medical School, and James Fowler, at 
the
University of California-San Diego that appeared in the Journal of Personality 
and Social
Psychology Learning titled Alone In The Crowd tells us that; the studies on 
brain activity
such as that by Gregory Berns of Emory University in his Iconoclast tell us 
that. “Alone”
fires up our greatest fears.  The primitive part of our brain, the amygdala, 
equates
“alone” with becoming “prey.”  All this research says that someone who feels 
disconnected
and alone has more negative feelings and interactions than non-alone people.  
The most
reliable antidote is not academic degrees and scholarly resumes.  It’s not in 
emailing,
texting, or twittering.  It’s not found on YouTube or Facebook or My Space.  
It’s not in
the electron communication of distance learning.   The true and lasting cure is 
in face to
face, eyeball to eyeball, tactile touching the flesh, connection; it is, as 
Daniel Goleman
asserts, in an evolved version of primal grooming behavior.   Each of us, 
student and
faculty and administrator alike, needs and seeks the crucial companionship that 
carries
with it the essential “you’re not in it alone” security, assurance, 
encouragement, and
support network.

 

            Is it any wonder that threat and anxiety rule the emotional roost 
on our
campuses?  Yet, it’s not easy to control these elephants.  Students do it 
outside the
classroom by rushing to rush sororities and fraternities, to join clubs, to 
participate in
theater and bands, to play on teams, to twitter, to Facebook, and to avoid 
being “single”
by hooking up with each other.  We academicians try half-heartedly with 
occasional faculty
socials or teaching circles, but ultimately too often turf warfare stands in 
the way.  We
all, students and academicians alike, need, whether we admit it or not, genuine 
and strong
connections with others on a personal one-to-one basis.  Students certainly 
don’t get it
in our classes.  More often than not, they feel isolated in our classes by both 
the
academic culture and physical structure.  It's eyes front, spotlight on the 
speaker at the
front of the room.  It's eyes front, gazing into the computer screen. It's eyes 
down,
taking notes.  It’s eyes front, memorizing the nape of someone’s neck.  They 
don’t feel
wanted, embraced, noticed, and cared about.  And, the result is they just feel 
scared,
controlled, threatened, endangered, lousy, and uninspired.  Then, we wonder 
why—if we
wonder about such things at all--the classroom experience is usually not 
memorable to
them.  As for the faculty, let’s just say it’s usually plagued with a divisive 
and
disconnecting “us versus them” attitude.  

 

            But, when anyone does seriously take aim at these elephants, it's 
too often
taken met with resistance.  They’re accused of being un-academic and attacking 
“academic
freedom;” they’re being un-American by attacking individuality; and “group 
work,” as a
colleague on my campus once told me, is a loophole that promotes “legalized 
cheating.”
Students, we, are personally and trained as soon as we come out from the womb 
to see
ourselves as self-reliant people who do not depend on others.  We’re taught to 
push aside
Donne’s idea that no man is an island.  We’re told to be self-made men and 
women.  We are
told to idolize rugged individualism.  We're told to be the heroic iconoclasts 
who stand
out in and away from the crowd.    That's what all this "I don't want to rely 
upon anyone
for my grade" echoing in the classroom means.  It’s what a lot of this call for 
“academic
freedom” means.  It's a stigma to think otherwise.  It’s blasphemy to think no 
man is an
island.  Because it is socially unacceptable, because it's an embarrassment to 
talk of it,
that aloneness and loneliness gets lost in both the student's and our stories.  
  

 

            Let me offer a caveat from the start.  I love being alone on my 
pre-dawn
walks.  It’s my time for my inner journey of reflection, contemplation, 
self-evaluation,
and connection.  But, that’s far different from isolation, loneliness, and 
aloneness.
Students and academics come on campuses that are balkanized by individual, 
departmental,
school contentions over budgets, programs, courses, new positions, grants, not 
to mention
professional jealousies and sense of threat.  The feeling of being set apart 
from rather
than being a part of a group—be it a department, a school, the university or 
college, the
classroom—where we’re not in touch with each other, where we can’t share the 
load, where
we can’t get support and encouragement can become demoralizing, paralyzing, and 
have an
impact on our well-being and performance.  

 

            Those recent sociological, psychological, and anatomical studies 
are showing
that this sense of isolation is a major cause of self-defeating attitudes.  And,
increasing the size of classes isn’t helping.  That is why we have to take 
community
seriously.  That is why we need learning communities among faculties and 
administrators.
That is why we need learning communities among students.  That is why we need 
community in
the classroom.  We have to communicate with each other.  We have to find common 
cause
among each other.  We have to pay full attention to each other.  We have to 
experience
each other. We have to understand each other.  Empathy is the key promoter of 
kindness,
support, compassion, encouragement, respect, faith, hope, love.  We have to 
create and
strengthen these meaningful connections to be free and fully functioning 
persons.  It with
these connections we can deal positively with demands, pressures, prodding, 
controlling,
and cajoling swirling around us.  It with these connections that we can better 
explore,
risk, experiment, develop, and take on challenges.  It’s with these connections 
is what we
can become all that we capable of.  We must, as I say in my workshops on 
creating a
motivating classroom environment, break barriers, build bridges, and forge 
community.  We
have to do it throughout the campus.  We have to live four simple and profound 
words, as
well as helping others learn to do the same:  YOU ARE NOT ALONE!  That may 
sound like a
cliché; it may sound trite; it may seem so obvious. But, I’ll tell you this 
from having
discussions with faculty and administrators in workshops, having schmoozing 
conversations
in hallways at conferences, talking with students, and reading hundreds of 
student
journals:  those words reverberate to the depths of all people’s souls—all 
people’s souls.


 

            That the feeling of being disconnected just might be the deadly 
salmonella of
education’s food for thought should give us pause and some food for thought.    

 

 

Make it a good day.

 

      --Louis--

 

 

Louis Schmier                                http://www.therandomthoughts.com

Department of History                    
http://www.therandomthoughts.edublogs.org


Valdosta State University             

Valdosta, Georgia 31698                 /\   /\  /\               /\

(229-333-5947)                                /^\\/  \/   \   /\/\__/\ \/\

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/\/    \
/\

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\__/__/_/\_\    \_/__\

                                                /\"If you want to climb 
mountains,\ /\

                                            _ /  \    don't practice on mole 
hills" -

 


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