In my experience two very simple but somewhat contentious ideas are central to what made my life in the classroom enjoyable and rewarding. I want to share these ideas with you. I’ll refer to these two ideas as The Calling, and The Mystery.
The Call to Pedagogy.
My Social Studies 20 class was beginning a study of the Renaissance. We were looking at slides of Michelangelo’s David, that perfect embodiment of human worth, human potential. Students observed the smooth skin and the perfect proportions. A few oohs and aahs. No question, a great artist. Then we looked at slides of some of his other statues that stood along the hallway. These were called “The Captives”. They seemed to be crude, unfinished blocks of marble. Rough grooves showed where Michelangelo had been chipping away at the stone. Human figures could be discerned within the blocks of marble but they were misshapen, incomplete, cramped, and seemingly abandoned. “Were these Michelangelo’s failures?” I asked. But then one student said, “Maybe Michelangelo was trying to say something with these statues. Maybe these rough forms are his statement about mankind, that we are all captives of circumstances, all imprisoned and imperfect in our humanness.” The class went silent. Smiles of recognition spread from face to face. It was one of those moments that every teacher lives for. A moment of discovery, of growth. A small change had occurred in the world. I beamed inside. I felt pure joy. Why?
As teachers we are intimately involved in the most essentially human project – the project of leading children to the world. A teacher has a passion to share the world with a child. There is nothing that compares to the ‘aha’ moment when a student suddenly gets it. It doesn’t happen every day, and you can’t predict when it’s going to happen, but when you see that face suddenly break through the clouds of incomprehension, wide-eyed and smiling, there’s nothing better. It’s what a teacher lives for. It’s what a teacher is called to do. Those smiles in that moment in that classroom affirmed me as a teacher. And that is a source of pure joy. Erich Fromm said that joy is knowing that you are on the road to becoming what you were meant to become.
Teachers, be ready, be open to these moments of joy. They’re worth more than any pay increase, any working conditions clause, any promotion, any unfunded liability, or even a secure pension plan. I wish you many moments of joy in the years ahead.
The Mystery
Two sources of mystery confront the teacher. On the one hand there is the mystery of what makes humans tick, and on the other is the mystery of what makes the world tick.
A teacher ought to be preoccupied with the continual mystery of human being. Like the child rapt by a worm writhing on the sidewalk after the rain, so too a teacher should be forever fascinated with the parade of young humanity passing before him. I have been privileged to see a hundred first loves in my classrooms. And they’re all the same and they’re all different. And they’re all so sad and so giddy and so hopeless and so affirming. And most of the time the young lovers survive and learn and grow. I’ve seen breath-taking nascent beauty sitting in the third row, unable to put words to the profound loss of childhood. I’ve seen masculine giants tremble at a poem, and hesitant introverts rage at injustice. I’ve seen the smile of comfort on a troubled little face. I’ve had the joy of experiencing these essential human moments with children. What a privilege! What a joy! There’s no life like it.
A sense of mystery is the vehicle that drives growth, and healthy curiosity is the fuel for that vehicle. Teachers must be the guardians of mystery and the flame keepers of curiosity. A teacher’s job is to keep the joy of discovery alive, to never allow mystery to be killed by the false demon of certainty. We should leave certainty for others and, instead, frolic in the joyful mud of uncertainty with our students, get dirty in the messiness of unknowns and unknowables. We should be forever modeling the joy of thought, of puzzlement, of discovery, of making sense of the world. We should be walking question marks. We should have more questions than answers for our students.
I walk into my classroom and say to the students, “Here’s what I just saw in the hallway during class change – two grade eight students kissing, she bending down to meet his lips. What’s that all about? Why kiss in a crowded hallway? What’s the message?” And we launch into a deep discussion about love, infatuation, and teenage angst. No definitive answers. Just an atmosphere of inquiry. Soon students come to class with questions – honest, serious questions about life and the world. They want to know. Teachers need to model the joy of learning and the best way to do that is to openly, unapologetically, infectiously ask questions, and be passionate, life-long learners. Embrace mystery. Avoid the dead-endedness of certainty.
Teachers, I wish you a life of questioning, of growth with and through your students. I urge you to become childlike in you curiosity and your passion for learning. Infect others. Joy is found through this infection.
So what have I learned about teaching? It’s not just about lesson plans and record keeping and reflective journals, classroom management techniques and professional portfolios, test scores and on-task measurements, or the Fraser Institute, or accountability, or measurability. These things are all necessary and important and we have stakeholders and administrators to please. But being a teacher is so much more than any of these things. Being a teacher requires a sense of vocation, of being called to be with children, to walk with children, to experience mystery and joy with children. I wish you all joy as you begin the road to becoming that which you are meant to become.
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