Because my own words and images (see my previous post) did not elicit much response, I will cite the words of someone else. These words are about teaching:
"I believe that the best teachers are always deeply involved in the making of new knowledge. Here is where teaching and learning are so closely intertwined: the province of knowledge-making is the province of learning. Ultimately, the role of teacher and learner become ontologically less and less distinct."
This reminded me that in order to achieve this kind of teaching we must see ourselves as learners, we must "remember" in our guts and bones what it's like to try something new, to write beyond our skill, to question our abilities. My guess is, even though it causes me some anxiety, we can't be transformative teachers unless we are ourselves continually being transformed intellectually and spiritually.
While my earlier post may seem like merely one of several winter hiking surveys, it was meant to be more than that. The experience with the burnt trees was surprisingly vivid and lingeringly insightful: it demanded the earnest "poetic" tone. I'm unsure I captured any of that now. Worse, and I hate to admit it, after writing the post I kept checking my email hoping for a response, a connection, anything. Simply put it's good for me to more clearly remember how difficult it is to share your writing with peers, something I nonchantly ask students to do on a weekly basis.
"Teaching is an act of discovery, a continual transformation of itself—when it’s good. The worst kind of teaching, the kind I dread, particularly when I find myself doing it, is teaching things doggedly, the same again and again. Teaching is work, but it is not the work of factories."
Teaching things doggedly--doesn't that just about say it all? Pushing through, not responding but reentrenching. Much more difficult to be dogged when humbled. Be warned: I will attempt earnest poetic tone again.
The full teaching philosophy is found here.
8 comments:
I don't know. This constant transformation stuff seems awfully romantic to me. I don't know if I'm up for it. But, then again, as I like to tell people, I'm shallow. I'm just not that reflective. Isn't it okay to be dogged once in awhile?
Note: earnest poetic tones are forgiven if they are knowingly called attention to.
Yeah, certainly seems romantic, even trite to me. Still, at its core, I think there is truth. Not that I set myself up as some sort of example. On an even more cynical turn, it might be the mere belief in one's transformation--be it real or not--that's the key to feeling like a great teacher.
Still, with nothing better to go on, strive for some transformation as it seems to juice me, give me the guts to start a conversation/lecture once I've entered the classroom (I'm thinking of Russo's Straightman, the main character's dad who had to start his lectures outside in the hallway and then walk into the class). On a certain level teaching really terrifies me.
Straightman is a great novel. Unfortunately, I think I get more of my pedagogy from novels of that parody academic life. My three favorite, in this order.
1. David Lodge "Changing Places" and "Small World"
2. Richard Russo's "Straightman"
3. Robert Grudin's "Text"
That should be "Book" by Robert Grudin. He's making fun of the term text.
Not related to this post but I LOVED the other posts. I just didn't comment. They're beautiful pictures making me miss Utah more than I can stand.
I need to read David Lodge; meant to but haven't gotten to it.
Thanks Nik. The pics are beautiful and I guess earnest poetic is fine too if, as MB says, one calls attention to it. Well, I've now certainly done that :)
I too liked the pics (and the writing) in a totallly earnest non-ironic way.
Counterintuitive,
You're just too hard on yourself. Sometimes good art should just be absorbed, and its not always easy to verbalize its effects.
Just keep writing. You have your fans, some are just silently taking it in...
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