Vocation and Paralysis

The first question listed below by Jim Stenson is this: Do I have a sense of "vocation" about my teaching career? Do I strive to be an excellent professional, enjoying (as Aristotle put it) "the full use of one's powers along lines of excellence"?

My answer, written while sitting crosslegged on the curb of our parking lot, cut off from the flowering trees on the green and lovely lawn abutting the concrete roof of the nearby reservoir by the active sprinklers, is as follows:

Do I have a sense of "vocation" about my teaching career? Not particularly … well, yes and no. Sometimes I feel that I became a teacher because, if I ever have wanted to become anything, it is a writer, and as I don’t know what else I would do otherwise, and I haven’t become (or made myself) a writer, I might as well teach the writing I’ve read. That said, what else is writing but teaching your readers about politics, beauty, love, God, or whatever subject you take up? In addition, I genuinely enjoy discussing and exploring literature, sharing my own insights and theories and debating others. And even though I have not made myself a true literary scholar, have not engaged with the writing of others as deeply or widely as I should have, perhaps through cowardice or laziness or that mysterious inertic death urge that I let overcome so many of my plans, I still enjoy it.

Do I strive to be an excellent professional, enjoying (as Aristotle put it) "the full use of one's powers along lines of excellence"? No. I am not sure if I am lazy or simply perverse, but ever since I can remember, anything I objectively ought to do or subjectively think I should do, is distasteful to me. As a boy, I found the history book fascinating, butnot the part I was assigned. The Nazis fed my curiousity when the Aztecs had no flavour, but when I found the wars of religion putting me to sleep, those empires of the undiscovered Americas suddenly became bright and interesting. As an adult I am the same way: anything that smacks of obligation I am loathe to do. For this reason I was doubtful when the pedagogy pedants told us that one of our chief duties was making our material interesting through relevance. But, “Relevance be damned,” says the callow youth, “What will it cost me not to do it?” I am overstating my case, I suppose, smearing others with my own extrapolated perversity, and I know from experience that some teachers inspire and some dispirit, but I never wrote the papers of even my favorite classes until the night before.

I strive now and then, and put work into this and that, surf on sudden surges that carry me at their crest for an evening, a day, a week or sometimes more.

More was planned, but you know how reflection time is during teacher orientation week: it's not exactly a week at the Abbey of Gethsemane, or a lifetime in the desert, is it?

Off to grade summer papers - a drudgery that I sometimes enjoy, but I can hardly admit that, even to myself.

Questions for Reflection

Our new Head of School asked us today to do some reflection, around forty minutes, on our vocations as teachers, giving us a list of ten questions he has adopted from the materials of some chap named Jim Stenson. I'm going to post the ten questions as material I can work on in the future, as well as the answer I gave to the first question. If Jim Stenson, or whoever owns his work, feels I am transgressing on his intellectual property by posting these questions in a group, I hope he will let me know so that I may rectify the situation.

Here are the questions:

1. Do I have a sense of "vocation" about my teaching career? Do I strive to be an excellent professional, enjoying (as Aristotle put it) "the full use of one's powers along lines of excellence"?

2. How do I expect each of my students to change for the better, and for life, as a result of my professional service? How am I working to improve their character strengths of sound judgment, sense of responsibility, tough-minded perseverance, self-mastery, and heart (i.e. compassion & magnanimity)?

3. To look at it another way, what am I doing to help them internalize lifelong attitudes and habits essential to their later success and ethical uprightness – integrity, powers of sustained effort, realistic self-confidence, regard for others’ rights, respect for learning and intellectual accomplishment, a spirit of service and collaboration, ideals of professionalism, etc?

4. Do I foster a sense of collaborative accomplishment (“We…”) in our classwork? How do I convey a sense of progress to them – namely that they are growing steadily in some powers that will benefit them and others throughout their lives? Do I help them project their lives forward toward the challenges of the next 50 years?

5. Do my students know what is expected of them? Are my rules reasonable, clear, and fair? Am I quick to admit mistakes and make apologies where necessary, showing that I value truth and justice above my pride?

6. Do I reflect deeply about the strengths, unsuspected gifts, and possibilities of each student, especially those in the middle of the class who are often overlooked?

7. Do I try to maintain reasonably frequent contact with the parents of each student and see this as an essential part of my professional service?

8. What works would I recommend to parents and gifted students who wished to know more about my field of interest?

9. Do I make every effort to see the good in each student? When discipline is required, do I consider that its first and foremost aim is to form students and not necessarily to punish them?

10. As part of my professional advancement, what attempts have I made to learn more about my subject matter, pedagogical trends or the psychology and development of young men? Have I attended conferences or workshops, made site visits to other schools, taken graduate courses or simply set aside time for discussion with my colleagues?

Apologies

To all you readers out there, who have been checking the blog frantically over the past 8-9 months, I got bogged down in the second quarter and just never came back. I was so out of the habit that I just never got back in over the summer. So now that school has started up again, and I have no time to spare, I'll be adding new posts now and then. I should think, though, that by now you have learned the folly of hoping to see a regular schedule followed.