Well, I'm two-faced today. One face is glum since I'm leery about leaving Susie Wednesday morning for two days just as she starts her grueling physical therapy for her shoulder. On the other hand, I'm starting to put on my game face and get into my groove for a day-long, two-part workshop on Thursday as part of the summer teaching institute being held at Rowan-Cabarrus Community College that starts tomorrow. But, I had a few tributaries that are raising the level of my adrenal flow. The first was chatting with my good friend, Kevin Johnston at Iowa last week about a question some his newer faculty raised about just how much time they should devote to classroom preparation. The second was agreeing to do a brief webcam this morning as a favor for Linda Serro during which I'll be discussing with her faculty at Florida Gulf Coast the implications of one of my recent Random Thoughts. The third occurred last Thursday afternoon when, as chance or whatever would have it, I bumped into a student as I was cutting through the park, heading home a bit euphoric after a crucial General Faculty meeting.
The young lady, Barbara, who had been in class Fall semester was on the swings. She waved to me as she yelled out a "Hi, Schmier." I turned, smiled, and waved back. Then, she jumped off the swings, ran over to me, gave me a hug, and said cheerfully, "Hey, Schmier, I want you to know that thanks to you I now know what I want to major in. I've decided I want to an ed major. I want to teach and make a difference. I want to be like you." "Well, thanks for the compliment, but you can't and don't try to be me," I replied. "You're not me anymore than I am you." Before I could explain, she shot back, "Then, I have a quickie assignment for you. I want you to answer a question. Tell me, what's the road to successful teaching?" Thinking of my two self-inspired, successful, and fulfilled sons, one a Stanford MBA V-P of Marketing in a Silicon Valley company and the other a successful graduate of the "school of hard knocks," chef at the Gaylord Resort Hotel in Nashville, both of whom love what they're doing and doing what they love, "Your own," I answered quickly. "Is that it?" she asked "No, there's more to it than that," she shot back, "not with all that challenging stuff you had us do in class. The 'Chair,' the 'Story,' the 'paper clips,' the journaling, the one word 'how we feel,' the 'words of the day,' the learning projects, all of it? No, I want to know more about your 'whys.' Remember? You told us that if we didn't understand why we were doing something, you'd give us your 'why.' We didn't have to agree with it; just understand it. You always said that there was a madness to your methods. So, what's your 'madness?'" "Well, for starters, burn these words of the Buddha into your mind and heart, 'We see as we are.' Someone else said, 'We teach who we are.' What they both mean is that there are three essential needs to cut and walk that road: attitude, attitude, attitude. It's not technique, it's not method, it's not technology. It's you. You are your most important tool in the classroom. It is your attitude, your perceptions of yourself and of each student, you take with you into the classroom that can make or break your and their entire experience." "And?" she posed "Well, there is more, but that's the guide line to help you cut your own road. Give me until the end of next week after I come back from a conference in North Carolina and I'll zip it to you. My mind isn't working in that direction after this meeting I just got out of. Meanwhile, I'll send you four things: my 'Teacher's Oath,' my 'Ten Commandments of Teaching,' my 'Ten Stickies, and my favorite of all my reflections, 'To Be A Teacher.'" "By the end of next week. I know where you live and I'll stalk you if you don't." She gave me a quick hug and ran off to hop back on the swings before I could protest. Yesterday, I was in my garden pulling weeds with my Nashville grandmunchkin, who was here with her parents for too short of a weekend, when the cell phone rang. I heard this voice, "Hey, Schmier, this is Barbara. Don't forget me and your promise. You always gave us deadlines: end of next week. And don't be wordy." "Well, you gave until the end of next week, but I'll give you a sneak preview. Here is one for starters, the foundation of it all. I'll send it to you in writing next week: A class is a 'gathering of sacred "ones."' So, if you want to walk the road to successful teaching put aside all the formal theories, all the generalities, stereotypes, labels, when you reach out to touch that miracle called the individual human being. Teach to that one student with a wild 'wow,' unshakeable belief, unconditional love, unending hope, boundless expectation, and unrelenting tenacity. Teach with a smile in your heart and on your face. I'll get back to you. But, read the stuff I'm going to send you first." So, with the help of Kevin, Linda, and Barbara I feel myself getting into my groove. And, when that happens as it always does before a class, conference presentation, workshop, or whatever, I always do one thing; I go inside myself, slow down, pause, reflect, and focus. It's like a meditative look into a soulful mirror asking what am I doing to help other people? That look in the mirror is well worth the time. It relaxes me. It slows me down, sharpens my edges; it makes me more aware, more attuned, more alert, and more alive; I see clearer and hear keener; I "smell" wherever I am; it deepens by sense of otherness. It stops me from falling into the trap of "thingifying" teaching specifically and education in general, and "objectifying" people. It prevents me from obsessing over schedules or the need to 'hit all the points' or to 'cover everything.' It reminds me that hurrying in itself is a poison. It blurs your vision as well as all your other senses. It means you no longer have a sense of what is inside you and around you; it means you no longer care about what you're doing; it means that you want to get on to other, more important, things. It always reminds me, as I'll tell Barbara, that whatever your road, walking it is more than style and technique and technology because it's not the particular path Barbara or I or anyone else choses to walk that's important, it's why you chose that path. That 'why' will determine the how and what you do on the walk for whom. There is a Talmudic saying,'whoever loves money never has money enough.' So, my final words are these, 'whoever truly wants to make a difference never makes difference enough.' Make it a good day -Louis- Louis Schmier http://www.therandomthoughts.edublogs.org<http://www.therandomthoughts.edublogs.org/> Department of History http://www.therandomthoughts.com<http://www.therandomthoughts.com/> Valdosta State University Valdosta, Georgia 31698 /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ (O) 229-333-5947 /^\\/ \/ \ /\/\__ / \ / \ (C) 229-630-0821 / \/ \_ \/ / \/ /\/ / \ /\ \ //\/\/ /\ \__/__/_/\_\/ \_/__\ \ /\"If you want to climb mountains,\ /\ _ / \ don't practice on mole hills" - / \_ --- You are currently subscribed to tips as: [email protected]. To unsubscribe click here: http://fsulist.frostburg.edu/u?id=13090.68da6e6e5325aa33287ff385b70df5d5&n=T&l=tips&o=17941 or send a blank email to leave-17941-13090.68da6e6e5325aa33287ff385b70df...@fsulist.frostburg.edu
