Inspired by "The Heart of a Teacher" by Parker J. Palmer
After reflecting on the first two weeks of this semester, I am met with more questions than answers. My self-doubt looms before me, but I keep going. Is this my true work? Is this really what I am called to do? What parts of myself do I share with my students? My family? What do I leave at home, or deep down in the pit of my stomach? At some level, there is no place to hide.
Then I think about the thread of life-giving lessons that make me rejoice at the prospect of teaching another week. I think about the magic that Julia Alvarez brings to life through her character Tia Lola in the novel we are reading. I think about the power of words, art and theater harnessed by Quique Aviles and the Paso Nuevo youth program at Gala Hispanic Theater (see videos below). I think about two guys who have come from Mexico as interns and will help implement a human rights curriculum developed by the American Friends Service Committee.
Finally, I look forward to the mystery, excitement and vulnerability of my students' stories. The highlight of this week will be show and tell. Assignment: "Bring
in a picture or object that represents something important to you. It can be
about you, your family, your country, or your culture." Doing show and tell sounds tame enough, but my heart skips a beat with trepidation. Will my students bring in stuff that's appropriate? Will their stories break our hearts? Last semester, there were some tears shed during show and tell. "That's OK," I tell myself, making sure there are tissues in the classroom. "Crying makes us stronger." This is my new thesis about tears.
I let go and decide that show and tell will be a success no matter what. We've gone over the school rules, laid a foundation of respect - a word whose definition we will hone throughout the semester, throughout our lives - and started opening up to one another about what makes us tick. "This week is gonna be awesome," I tell myself. And I know if I teach with that attitude, nothing can bring me down.
Sunday, February 5, 2017
Sustainable Education
On this blog, I want to argue for a new theory of learning. I'd like to argue for a theory that synthesizes the work of the giants who came before me - Paulo Freire, Maria Montessori, Mahattma Gandhi, Tsunesaburo Makiguchi, Parker Palmer and many others. I believe their theories might be united under the umbrella term "sustainable education."
But what is sustainable education? For now, I'll define it as education that allows us to learn, grow and be free throughout our lifetimes. It is also education that values sustainability. It values self-love, human dignity, and a deep green connection with the Earth. Before solidifying this definition, however, let's look at the journey that brings us here.
First of all, this blog is inspired by the Stories from Our Classroom, a social justice teacher's writing workshop run by Teaching for Change. As a participant, I am thinking about how I can make writing a sustainable activity for me, a core practice of my life. I've always enjoyed writing. This course has sparked a passion and a wave of ideas, and this blog is how I aim to collect, organize and share these ideas. Thanks Teaching for Change for this opportunity!
I must also express my gratitude for the school where I work, where I get to call myself a "teacher" and practice that role. I work as an English for Speakers of Other Languages (ESOL) teacher at a school that serves adult immigrant people. We could (re)frame our population as "new Americans," since the buzz word "immigrant" evokes all sorts of negative stereotypes due to our current political and media landscape. Ultimately, I hope that my work at the school serves to make my city a more welcoming community, a place where values like social justice, human rights, and love for the planet are put into practice.
I started thinking about sustainable education based on a quote from Adrienne Maree Brown, an outstanding literary scholar and activist who I had the pleasure of seeing speak a few years ago at the Allied Media Conference (best conference ever!). In her zine, she wrote something like "decisions made based on passion are usually easier to carry out than those based on obligation." On a similar note, she refers to herself as a "pleasure activist" and writes about how she tries to find pleasure in everything she does including work: "the deepest pleasure comes from riding the line between commitment and detachment – commitment to your process, to what you are doing, paired with detachment from outcomes." In other words, there is a tension between doing something you want to do and you need to do.
Her work got me thinking. For a while, I started to make all my decisions based on passion. That meant I got in touch with my best judgment, my highest order of thinking, and did what felt really right. For a time, it worked great for me and felt very natural. Doing what feels right, what warms your heart and fires up your brain, doing these things are sustainable. Sure, you can do tasks that are unpleasant. You can do work that you don't really want to do. (Look for a future post on perseverance and "grit," a subject I think we need to critically re-examine in education.) But ultimately you will long for a deeper purpose. We need passion and purpose in our lives. This fact is borne out in theory (Maslow's hierarchy) and practice (my personal experience of happiness): we need, at some point, to follow our hearts.
Montessori education might be the model for what I am trying to call "sustainable education." When I started to research Maria Montessori's ideas a couple of years ago, I found through Wikipedia that her theory was about human development, not just early childhood or elementary education. The Montessori Method is a way of teaching based on the scientific work of Maria Montessori, who became Italy's first physician in 1907. Now, I would argue that we need to apply and test Montessori's theories in the adult education context.
There is a lot more to say and think about what sustainable education might look like in the adult ESOL classroom. So I am just beginning the conversation here. I'd like to include some questions one of my relatives posed in a Christmas letter this season:
But what is sustainable education? For now, I'll define it as education that allows us to learn, grow and be free throughout our lifetimes. It is also education that values sustainability. It values self-love, human dignity, and a deep green connection with the Earth. Before solidifying this definition, however, let's look at the journey that brings us here.
First of all, this blog is inspired by the Stories from Our Classroom, a social justice teacher's writing workshop run by Teaching for Change. As a participant, I am thinking about how I can make writing a sustainable activity for me, a core practice of my life. I've always enjoyed writing. This course has sparked a passion and a wave of ideas, and this blog is how I aim to collect, organize and share these ideas. Thanks Teaching for Change for this opportunity!
I must also express my gratitude for the school where I work, where I get to call myself a "teacher" and practice that role. I work as an English for Speakers of Other Languages (ESOL) teacher at a school that serves adult immigrant people. We could (re)frame our population as "new Americans," since the buzz word "immigrant" evokes all sorts of negative stereotypes due to our current political and media landscape. Ultimately, I hope that my work at the school serves to make my city a more welcoming community, a place where values like social justice, human rights, and love for the planet are put into practice.
I started thinking about sustainable education based on a quote from Adrienne Maree Brown, an outstanding literary scholar and activist who I had the pleasure of seeing speak a few years ago at the Allied Media Conference (best conference ever!). In her zine, she wrote something like "decisions made based on passion are usually easier to carry out than those based on obligation." On a similar note, she refers to herself as a "pleasure activist" and writes about how she tries to find pleasure in everything she does including work: "the deepest pleasure comes from riding the line between commitment and detachment – commitment to your process, to what you are doing, paired with detachment from outcomes." In other words, there is a tension between doing something you want to do and you need to do.
Her work got me thinking. For a while, I started to make all my decisions based on passion. That meant I got in touch with my best judgment, my highest order of thinking, and did what felt really right. For a time, it worked great for me and felt very natural. Doing what feels right, what warms your heart and fires up your brain, doing these things are sustainable. Sure, you can do tasks that are unpleasant. You can do work that you don't really want to do. (Look for a future post on perseverance and "grit," a subject I think we need to critically re-examine in education.) But ultimately you will long for a deeper purpose. We need passion and purpose in our lives. This fact is borne out in theory (Maslow's hierarchy) and practice (my personal experience of happiness): we need, at some point, to follow our hearts.
Montessori education might be the model for what I am trying to call "sustainable education." When I started to research Maria Montessori's ideas a couple of years ago, I found through Wikipedia that her theory was about human development, not just early childhood or elementary education. The Montessori Method is a way of teaching based on the scientific work of Maria Montessori, who became Italy's first physician in 1907. Now, I would argue that we need to apply and test Montessori's theories in the adult education context.
There is a lot more to say and think about what sustainable education might look like in the adult ESOL classroom. So I am just beginning the conversation here. I'd like to include some questions one of my relatives posed in a Christmas letter this season:
What can we imagine life will be like for [our children's generation]? How many thousands of acres of the Amazon will be re-forested? What kinds of robots will serve humans - or will it be the other way around? What kind of justice and equality will arise amongst our human population and our animal kingdom?
What will the evolution of our species look like? What practices of daily living will become habitual and create the close relationships with the natural world that we need to survive? What will we learn about time, space, and other dimensions of reality from the sciences - as they converge and merge and iterate into new disciplines of understanding?These are the questions I hope you will ponder with me as we move forward together.
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