Heather,
I loved Rule #6 as well and I think it is a great idea to post it in your classroom next year. Sometimes we forget or don’t realize that we are taking something too seriously until it gets all blow out of proportion. Having that gentle reminder there can help remind you to lighten up. I had to giggle at the end about your sense of humor with the janitor cleaning the classroom, it was a nice finish to that paragraph.
I wish that I had gone into Art Education because it was always what I wanted to do and was passionate about, but they didn’t have Art in the schools in Arkansas when I started the teaching program. During my last semester they added back in to the schools and by then I was about to graduate and told I would have to add another 60 hours of Art classes to get my degree in that. I wish it had been financially feasible for me to do that because it is one of my major regrets in life.
I too was very moved by the whole “calculating self” and “central self”. It really made me think a lot about my life and where I currently am based on how I look at my life. At the moment it is more of a pessimistic view as I posted about in my blog post this week, but after reading this I am trying to change it to more of an optimistic view. I loved your takes on the reading this week and I am glad that you chose to stick with teaching.
Heather's original blog post:
Interesting that orchestral players are more dissatisfied with their work than prison guards; I’m curious to know where teachers fall on that survey. I can see the connection between conductor as omniscient to teacher as “sage on stage.” Often when you are unsure of something as a teacher, students are unsure how to respond. I don’t have a problem admitting I’m wrong, or apologizing. I apologized to a student once for telling her incorrectly about the way she needed to do something in Crafts class, but she wouldn’t let it go, which made it uncomfortable to leave myself vulnerable like that. Zander speaks about the “jaded and disaffected or the tender and glorious lover of music” and I often see that myself except in the context of Art. I think that Zander makes a great point about looking into the eyes of those you are trying to lead. How many times are we teaching our classes with the students quiet but their eyes are glazed over?
I love Rule Number 6; I think that I should post it in my class next year. Some days, especially awful ones, only humor can get you through. I was moved by the concept of moving from the “calculating self” to the “central self” and the tale of Ilse and Guerda. I know that I often take myself too seriously, especially when I feel like there is so much I need to teach and the students don’t seem to care. Some days the students say the most hilarious things, and even though sometimes they are inappropriate, I can’t help but laugh. At times the situation is just so ridiculous, or has gone so far out of whack, that I have to laugh or explode, and I’d rather not explode, the janitor doesn’t sweep our room that often as it is.
When I used to work in retail, my manager had a plaque that read “Be here now” to remind her that when she was at work, that she was at work, but when her shift was up to be at home and be there, because she often would appear in the store when she was supposed to be off. I try to get this across to my students when they are complaining that they didn’t sign up for Art or when they are doing work for another class. Sometimes I end up doing this too, looking at what I think “should” be happening and what actually is happening, and how to deal with that. The more you pay attention to something, the more you notice it. I can’t remember where, but I’ve heard before, “When you’re a hammer, everything looks like a nail.” The concept of the optimist looking at reality and the pessimist imaging at fiction, trumps all that has been said about pessimists being realists and optimists being the dreamers, and I never thought of it like that, but it makes a lot of sense.
I’d like to say I’m passionate about education, and some days I am, but I’m more passionate about interacting with those students and teaching them to see and to experience Art. When I was in college, I did a lot of thinking about whether I wanted to go into Art Education, because I hated, absolutely hated, my Education classes. I loved my Art classes, I loved working with the kids, but I hate to say it but all the dry, unimaginative, unrealistic stuff I had to read about in my Education classes almost made me not want to be a teacher. When I actually was at a school, interacting with the classes, researching and developing lessons, I knew I had to become a teacher, but if I hadn’t had to actually be in a classroom with students taking Art and had just taken those classes, I wouldn’t have become a teacher, it was too sterile for me. My students laugh at me sometimes because I talk with my hands or get so excited that my voice goes up a couple octaves, but I can deal with that, because I can feel the passion welling up in me for my Art and for the impact I’m hoping to make with those students. All this is just proof that while we aren’t passionate about everything, we have to be passionate about something, those things that are really truly important to us, or we fall into mediocrity.