It’s a tad before dawn.  Can’t sleep. Finally, there's a chill in the 
air.  Sipping freshly brewed coffee.  Standing by the koi pond.  Listening to 
the music of the waterfall.  At last, I’ve come out from the thick fog of a 
Thanksgiving Tryptophan overdose that had sent me into a caloric coma.  Having 
a son as an accomplished chef doing all the fixings will do that.  It’s curious 
that as the sky grays with the coming light during these festive seasons of 
light, I’m thinking about the dusk and dark of burnout that is worrying this 
professor with whom I’m having an exchange.  I was hoping that by offering my 
own experience, I could possibly be a dawning light-bringing candle that would 
help push out this fear of oncoming darkness.

        “So, what does it take to keep your afterburners going full blast?” 
this professor came back to ask after my last response to her that I shared on 
the internet with her permission.  

        “Attitude and choice.  It was unrelentingly clinging on to  Dylan 
Thomas’ rage:  ‘Rage, rage against the dying of the light.’  I refused to let 
the light die.  I refused to acquiesce to the dousing of the fires.  I refused 
to let my tanks run dry.  I refused to let dust settle on my sense of 
adventure.  I refused to waste one second of what I call my ‘once-in-a-lifetime 
day’ by not taking it for granted, by not living it routinely same way as the 
previous day.  I always went off-road into places I never had been”  

        My epiphany, having overcome cancer, and being a ‘a walking 5 % 
miracle’ who survived unscathed a massive brain hemorrhage, all constantly 
whispered to me: adventure calls; you need a new story; you have to reimagine a 
teaching and learning that breaks down entrenched assumptions and expectations, 
that throws a wrench into the accepted works, as challenging and uncomfortable 
and risky as that may be; the means of your teaching, as well as your life, 
have to match your ends; your very being must be a vision.  They admonished me: 
 have faith, have more faith, have better faith, have unconditional faith, move 
it into public spaces; hope, hope more, hope better, hope unconditionally, move 
it into public spaces; love, love more, love better, love unconditionally, move 
it into public spaces.  I found that faith, hope, and love nudged me onward and 
forward.  That why I titled by latest Ebook, ‘Faith, Hope, Love:  The Spirit of 
Education.’  Faith, hope, and love took the focus off myself, helped me live 
beyond myself, and required I serve others.  They helped me create my the 
compass of my ‘Teacher’s Oath’ and 'Ten Commandments of Teaching.'  They 
ultimately helped me acquire a ‘true north’ meaningful and purposeful vision:  
to be that person who is there to unconditionally help each student help 
her/himself to become the person she or he is capable of becoming.  And so, I  
became, as Anthony said, ‘a constant influencer.’  Here’s some more of my 
unexpected conversation I had with Anthony in the grocery store that I wrote 
down.  As an aside, I must have been a sight, sitting on the floor, scribbling 
away at breakneck speed.  I got some interesting looks.  Anyway:” 

        “You were a constant ‘influencer’ to each of us with your pushing 
words: ‘Untie the “not” in your “cannot” and kick yourself in your “can”' or 
‘Do or do not.  There is no try.'  You know, you were and still are the only 
professor I’ve had who was ‘captured by teaching.'”

        “'Captured by teaching?'”

        “‘Snared.’  ‘Trapped.’  ‘Hooked.’  Use whatever word you want.  But, 
you couldn’t help but be curious about each of us because of it.  I watched you 
closely watching us.  Because you were sincerely curious, you were ‘grabbed.'  
Because you were grabbed, you become so observing and paid so much attention to 
each of us; you were always ‘there,’ totally, never somewhere else or wishing 
to be doing something else; you were always alert and aware of what was going 
on.   I saw your eyes always moving, always scanning each of us.  You prowled 
around us like a tiger as we worked on our projects or did an exercise.  You 
connected and got involved with us.  Sometimes you whispered a word in 
someone’s ear; sometimes you just gave him an inspiring slight thumbs up or 
nod; sometimes you only smiled; sometimes you walked by and gave a silent tap 
on the shoulder.  Always encouraging, always supporting.  I think even when you 
got real annoyed, it was a caring ‘you can do it’ or kindly ‘you’re better than 
this’ act to inspire us.  I heard you say that alot.  You were never truly 
angry.   With the daily journals and the small talk that wasn’t all that small, 
you found ways to know us and what was going on with us, especially outside the 
classroom,  that influenced what we were doing or not doing.  You noticed each 
of us; you saw each of us; you listened to each of us.  It was something to 
watch you watching and to be on the being watched end.  You taught us where we 
were in a way to bring us to a place where we could begin to be who we could 
be.  And, that place would be different for each of us.  I remember you once 
saying that if you met one student, you met one student.” 

        I told this professor: “‘Wow,’ I thought to myself.   What insight.  
What descriptions:  ‘influencer,’ ‘captured by teaching,’ ‘grabbed.'  Nice 
words and phrases.  They’re fired up words.  While Anthony nailed me, to be 
those I had to first release myself.  That release, which was at the core of my 
epiphany, was a cutting of my binding inner cords.  It was an initial freeing 
and broadening, a freeing and broadening that has lasted to this day: a 
departure from the way I felt about myself; a detachment from the ways things I 
had always done and been expected by others to do; a confronting of and freeing 
from those flaws and issues that were holding me back and that were keeping me 
from reaching my full potential; a broadening beyond myself to see, listen, 
understand, sympathize, support, encourage, and serve others.  That was and 
still is not easy.  It was and is a sense of needing to move beyond merely 
wanting to do something different to becoming a different person.  I was adrift 
for a bit after that momentum until I was next captured by happening upon Ed 
Deci’s ‘Why We Do What We do’ in which he promoted autonomy, ownership, 
mastery, and connection as self-motivating attitudes.  Then came Carol Dweck 
with her ‘growth mindset’ followed by other findings of researchers on 
learning.  They all spoke to me both personally and professionally, both to 
motivate myself and inspire students; to be life changing for myself, as well 
as for students.   They were so many turning points for me that I felt like a 
constant whirling dervish.  To coin a phrase, they were a rapid punches to  my 
spiritual gut that changed my life and profession.  They were thunderbolts that 
prompted me to start shaking up things by asking some simple questions:  what 
did I truly want?  What really moves me?  What touches me?  What draws me?  
What desires move me?  Sure, part of the answers is profession and career.  
Most of the answers, however, revolved around wanting to become the person I 
was capable of becoming.  So, my immediate answers were: to do important things 
rather than just being important; to acquire a vocation rather than just to 
have a career.  Those questions and answers have been my guiding compass for 
the last 25 years down a path of a constant cycle of invigorating and 
reinvigorating questioning, unlearning, disbelieving, exploring, learning, 
believing, applying, questioning, unlearning, disbelieving, explorting, 
learning, believing, applying, questioning, unlearning……”

        “You see, ‘vocation' to me came to mean my truest and deepest identity, 
a calling, a mission, a vision.  And, there is the unending shaking up, the 
unending adventure, the unending refueling, and the unending fire—and the end 
to burnout.  So, again, if you ask me what constantly fueled by afterburners, 
I’ll always come back to three things:  attitude, attitude, attitude; a shaking 
up attitude that constantly asks who really am I; who do I really want to 
become; what do I have to do to get there; and am I truly willing to do it?  I 
found the powering fuel lies in my ability to choose and decide upon my 
attitude towards everything.  Remember and live the Scriptural verse, ‘Let us 
not grow weary in doing good, for in due season, we shall reap, if we do not 
lose heart.’  ‘Not lose heart’ means to me that its the fires faith, hope, 
love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and 
self-control that keep the afterburners fired up. I discovered that when these 
things are dominant in my life, doing good is the inevitable result.  So, I 
learned that I had to put my heart into teaching in order not to lose heart. I 
didn’t surrender to despair, for I found that if I did, the opportunities would 
disappear.  But, if I didn’t opportunities and possibilities multiplied.  I 
accepted the challenge offered by the need for faith, hope, and love.  I needed 
a faith, hope, and love that were tender and kind; I needed a faith, hope, and 
love that were about combating indifference and disinterest; I needed a faith, 
hope, and love that was unconditional.   That didn’t mean I was naive and 
gullible because I also needed a faith, hope, and love that were down-to-earth 
and gritty.  I needed all that because, to the horrors and chagrin of 
colleagues, mentally and emotionally and physically and intellectually, and 
spiritually, I chose to distance myself from the role of accomplished scholarly 
professor to close the distance with students and become a loving, serving, and 
joyful teacher.  

        "Enough for now.  More on ‘joyful teaching later.’”  

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" - /   \_


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