Well, class are beginning today at my University. Even though I won't
be in the classroom, last week I was asked this weekend by a friend, if I could
help a student learn one thing, just one thing, and only one thing, what would
it be. I been thinking about that, even while watching the NFL playoffs: just
one thing. Not sure I can. My problem is that I had merged together myself,
students, course content, and life, and had exposed students to a bunch of "one
things." I wanted them to see that everything we did in class was relevant and
meaningful to their lives. I wanted to help students transform their thoughts,
attitudes, and feelings about themselves and others, what they learned, and
what they should with them. I had done this in eight major ways. The first
was to put myself out there in a "What do you want to know about me" exercise
in which I would answer any and all personal and professional questions about
me and my life experiences. Second, was to do an exercise I called, "The
Chair," which became one of the major "how it works" theme of the course,
Third, to give students a constant social experience which they could relate to
both the subject matter and their lives, I insisted that they form communities
of three and four according to three rules: they must be strangers to each
other, the communities they form must be gender and racially mixed. Fourth,
every day I'd write "Schmier's saying of the day" on the whiteboard, something
like Yoda's "Try not. Do or do not. There is no try." Then, in a brief five
or ten minute discussion we, they and me, would relate the saying to the people
about whom they're studying at the time and to ourselves with a "how would so
and so respond? How do you reply?" Fifth, everything we did in and out of
class, everything without exception, had a reflective transforming and
relevance character: the method of acquiring and accumulating information, the
manner of its use, the application of it all to their own lives. Sixth, my
reading, learning from, and reacting to their daily, confidential, computerized
journal entries. Seventh, I significantly minimized grade getting and
emphasized learning. And finally, there were those constant student initiated
"I gotta talk with you" or my initiated "let's talk" personal, face-to-face
sessions I had with students. There was others things we did, but these were
the major activities in wholeness approach by offering lessons both in the
subject matter and life.
Now, every time I sifted through all those doings in and out of class,
as well as the other "stuff," done by both students and myself, every time I
struggled to come up with that "one thing," a seminal thing, a foundation
thing, my friend wanted, I thought of the lesson in my massive cerebral
hemorrhage that should have killed or seriously impaired me, but miraculously
did neither: death is a split second from any of us, but so is another moment
filled with opportunities and possibilities. We don't control or are in charge
as much as we want to believe. I've had a few speed bumps, a few rough spots,
a few curve balls, a few ups and downs, a few highs and lows, and a few twists
and turns in my life and career. I've had unforeseen, unexpected,
uncontrolled moments of what I call "divine timing" or "you-just-don't-ask":
taking a fallback class I didn't want with Dr. Viault in my sophomore year;
meeting Susie on a blind date neither one of us wanted; adopting Robby because
of a series of inexplicable events; an unexpected research discovery which made
my career take a sharp left turn; my epiphany which made my life take at a
sharp right turn; a bout with cancer; my cerebral hemorrhage; my unexpected,
unwanted, and very reluctant retirement.
When I had my epiphany, I suddenly found myself faced with my life and
was startled by the rare experience of becoming intensely and painfully aware
of the moment-by-moment passage of my past life; when my brain exploded sixteen
years later, I suddenly found myself faced with death. I should have died. I
didn't. It was as sobering. There, on that fateful day in the autumn of 2007,
once again, it all flashed before me and has since stayed with me: all that I
materially had done in life, all that professionally I accomplished in life,
all that I and Susie accumulated in life, could have disappeared in a blink of
an eye. All my degrees, all my publications and grants, all my Random
Thoughts, all my renown would prove to be naught in a snap of the fingers. It
was all so temporary, all so transitory. But, the pain and happiness of those
experiences was a layer upon layer of mindful responsibility that life offers
us a series of second chances after chances after chances as gifts too precious
to waste by not living. At the same time, they were, to say the least,
increasingly uplifting inner joyful awarenesses.
One thing to teach students? Here is my simple "first" foundation upon
which rest my many other one things: Stop counting on stuff. Stop counting up
your stuff. Instead, live a life that counts. Live each and every second of
each minute of each and every hour of each and every day of each and every
month of each and every year that we are privileged to live count! How many of
us have heard reports of people who have died in the forest fires last summer
to save stuff. Or, whose life was shattered to extent of some committing
suicide when they lost stuff. When I think of that, I shake my head in
saddness. It's not the stuff in your wallet, hanging on the wall, parked in
your driveway, paying the mortgage on, resting in your bank account that
matter. It's not the stuff that you can measure, chart, manage, analyze, test,
compute, even explain that matter. One thing to teach students? Cure yourself
of your addiction by getting off the stuff of stuff. One thing to teach
students? My answer to my friend was, "The same one thing I learned I work to
offer to students to learn: live what matters. Live "below the surface," not
on it. Stop envying, stop collecting, stop hoarding, stop scurrying around,
stop chasing after, stop hustling, stop cutting corners or even cheating, stop
not noticing, stop not acknowledging, stop being disconnected, stop so
everything and everyone around you is no longer a blur. Life is so much more
beautiful, brighter, greater, and richer than the material riches you can amass
if your coffers are filled with love, kindness, happiness, purposefulness,
meaningfulness, friendship, and service. Acknowledge the presence of others,
hear them say, "we are here," rest your eyes on them, open your heart to them,
shrink the distance between you and them, experience the intense shivering of
the wellspring of communal intimacy, make something wonderful and exciting of
it all, share the gifts of life, and extend a benevolent hand and touch
another."
There are other related "one things," but enough for now.
Make it a good day
-Louis-
Louis Schmier
http://www.therandomthoughts.edublogs.org
203 E. Brookwood Pl http://www.therandomthoughts.com
Valdosta, Ga 31602
(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=32688
or send a blank email to
leave-32688-13090.68da6e6e5325aa33287ff385b70df...@fsulist.frostburg.edu
