The greatest man to ever teach me spent less than a full year in our educational system. It's not that he "couldn't make it," but that he had already made commitments to run a hospitality house before he ever fell in love with the vocation. To his core, he has always been a teacher and unlike many teachers I know he readily admits that this is one of his few talents.
Before I knew of Bloom's Taxonomy, Brad taught me to think critically and use higher-level thinking. Before the professors talked of scaffolding, I noticed that he had the uncanny ability to meet people at their level and empower them to own their own education. Before I knew of words like "constructivism" or "authentic learning," he proved that learning must be real. I remember that, when he taught, he would ask follow-up questions in a way that made the person who answered the question feel as if it was a one-on-one conversation and yet it enabled the entire group to feel as if they were part of the dialogue as well.
Anyway, when he and I first met, he made me memorize a phrase. "We must seize the moment of excited curiosity for the acquisition of wisdom." Although I realize there are limits to this (learning a foreign language, understanding fractions, going through unexciting tedium in search for authenticity) I am beginning to see that this is true.
If I have an idea and I place it in my "future" category, I find that it can become a chore. If it is writing, I write poorly. If it is a service project, I don't serve with my heart. If it is something where there is no accountability, I easily dismiss it. Yet, if I can tap into the passion, within the moment, I find that I remember it better, I work harder and, in the end, there is a higher chance likelihood that it will be innovative. This phrase has taught me that sometimes it is best to derail a lesson for a better one. Sometimes a meandering question is better than anything prefab and scripted.
So, here is where it gets difficult. I thrive in a system of self-sustained structure. I write curriculum maps. I plan units in advance. I create long-term projects with specific timelines for various phases. On one hand, this makes me more faithful. I work hard and accomplish more. On the other hand, I put off the important for the urgent and sacrifice playful curiosity for dutiful work; when sometimes the playful curiosity is precisely what will add creativity to my work.
Right now, I am really curious about how I can change my classroom climate. I want to tear out the carpet, paint the floors, paint the walls and create a new atmosphere. Yet, I know that I need to finish my Master's Capstone Proposal. Which is more important? I'm choosing the Master's project and doing my duty, but I wonder what I'm sacrificing in the process.
Saturday, April 12, 2008
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The views of this blog are those of the author only . . . and a few people crazy enough to agree with him. They do not in any way represent those of the Cartwright School District or its staff. If you find something offensive, please e-mail me at socialvoice@gmail.com and we'll engage in a respectful dialogue.
1 comments:
God I miss Brad. It's amazing how much impacted all of us so differently.
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