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Copyright © Louis Schmier and Atwood Publishing.
Date: Mon 1/19/2004 7:39 AM
Random Thought: Find Joy and Bring Joy
For the last few days, especially today, Dr. Martin Luther King
Day, Elisha has me thinking about something she said, "I want to
find joy and bring joy."
Isn't that what being a teacher is all about: getting out of
ourselves and into others; caring less about our feelings, our happiness,
our security, our convenience, our reputation, our renown, our comfort;
caring more to serve, to concern ourselves with the feelings and needs of
others; finding joy and bringing joy to ourselves and others? Leo
Buscaglia once said that to be a lover you needed the subtlety of the very
wise, the flexibility of the child, the sensitivity of the artist, the
understanding of the philosopher, the acceptance of the saint, the
tolerance of the scholar, and the fortitude of the certain. Not a
bad definition of a teacher, is it.
In my struggle to be that lover, to be a servant-teacher, I
consciously do three things each day: first, I make promises to myself so
that I may serve students better and bring more joy; second, I'll give
whatever I have, I'll take any risk, accept any challenge, rise to any
occasion, do whatever it morally and legally and ethically takes to fulfill
those promises; and finally, I honestly ask myself how many of the
promises did I keep, and how I can be and do more.
So, at the beginning of each day, in one way or another, I am
consciously asking myself one question: "Okay, Louis, how do you want
your day to be?" The answer comes in the minute-by-minute choices I will
make throughout the day. And, the choices that I make are the result of
the extent to which I can keep the promises I make to myself at the
beginning of and throughout each day: to be mindful and aware, to learn
something new about me, to learn something new about someone else, to
limber up and relax, to be willing to make mistakes, to be joyful, to hear
and listen, to be excited and create excitement, to be ready to be
surprised, to be uplifting, to smile and laugh, to look and see, to have
only beautiful moments, to be curious, to be aware of the choices I make
each moment, to be prepared for whatever might come, to know that I, like
everyone around me, am growing and changing in thousands of different ways
at different times, not to take my self too seriously, not to expect
perfection, not to try to control, be aware of all the beauty in people
around me, gently reach out and touch with my feelings and words and eyes
and hands.
Now, fulfilling those promises is not a piece of cake. It's more
often than not an effort and a challenge. My friend, Brian Johnson, sent
me a quote of Abraham Maslow: "You will either step forward into growth
or you will step back into safety." I think Maslow was saying that I
always must keep my eyes on the prize, keep my expectations higher than my
present reality, that who I become flows naturally from what I expect of
myself and what I expect myself to be. That's the choice, both Maslow and
Yoda, and especially Dr. King, offer us, isn't it: do or merely try, grow
or stagnate, dare or cower, take it easy or labor, risk or play it safe;
step forward or step back.
This Martin Luther King day. Dr. King was and remains an example
of those same choices. After all, what is it that we are remembering and
celebrating this day? His birthday? Not really. His lofty words?
Sure. His dream? Of course. But, in truth, we are not just celebrating
what he said or dreamt or what might have been had his life not been cut
short. We are celebrating the simple fact that because of him we are
closer to a cure for the disease of racial disrespect that afflicts us
all. We are remembering that he was a "doer," not merely a "tryer." We
are commemorating that because of him we are a healthier community, a
better people, and a more just nation. We are consecrating the trauma and
drama of what he did, the personal strength he and others had, the
commitment they made, the unswerving dedication and perseverance they
displayed, the risks they took, the dangers they faced, the sacrifices
they made, the wounds they suffered, and the challenges they overcame to
find joy and bring joy to all of us: in the sit-ins, the boycotts, the
marches, the voter registration, the imprisonment; through the flames of
threats, bricks, killings, bombings, conspiracies, beatings, angry mobs,
water hoses, attack dogs, night sticks, hooded klansmen. This day of
celebration and remembering is also a day of reflection. On this day, we
ponder the promises we made, the risks we have taken, the promises we have
fulfilled, the need for us to keep on going on and doing more.
That is the great lesson left us by the accomplishments of Dr.
King shortened, but glorious life. Now, dedication, commitment,
perseverance, risk, and danger in a classroom at Valdosta State University
pale, to say the least, compared to a march in Selma, although the way a
lot of academics act you wouldn't know it. But, the lesson is there
nonetheless. A lot of people wrote me off-list saying I was taking too
much of a risk by allowing Elisha into class. Too much of a risk? What
risk was I taking? What great, life-threatening leap did I make? I'm not
going to be hauled off a lynch mob. No one is going to bomb my office.
No one is going to torch the classroom. No one is going to beat me to
within an inch of my life. No one is going to threaten the life of my
wife and children. If there is a risk, it is the risk of doing nothing
and telling the Elishas on our campuses that they aren't worthy and worth
our time and effort.
Some of us, unacceptably too many of us, are so busy hesitating
because we're standing around; we don't feel in control or feel up to the
task or don't have guarantees or are afraid or are into ourselves or just
don't give a damn. We delicately tip-toe through minefields that we
ourselves have laid for ourselves. We worry about looking bad; we second
guess and rationalize; we rationalize; we have false expectations that
teaching is easy, unconsuming, and challenge-free; we fall into the
moaning "why me" trap; we want and wait for the perfect time, the perfect
place, and the perfect student; we wait for that flashbulb moment of
inspiration. Well, that flash won't go off unless we pick up the camera,
aim it, focus it, and press the button. Were I to play it safe and easy
and cozy, any more than had Dr. King and the others in the Movement done
so, none of those promises I make at the beginning of the day would be
fulfilled at the end of the day. I'd put nothing on the line, do nothing,
have nothing, be nothing, accomplish nothing, and become nothing. I'd not
have the opportunity to uplift, to help heal, to help stimulate, to
surprise, to help open new doors, to help bring in fresh air, to help
instill a true loving of learning, to help bring light and create
excitement in an otherwise darkened and deadening life such as Elisha's.
So, at the end of each day, I make time to reflect on if I have
fulfilled my promises to myself, have I made the choices that make the day
the way I wanted it to be: is anyone a little happier because I came
along, did I leave any imprint of my kindness and caring, did I help
someone discover his or her own magic, did I help someone grow, did I help
someone throw open his or her doors and windows of experience to his or
her own uniqueness, did I make someone feel more secure, did I help
someone smile or laugh, did I help ignite an inner glow, did I help
someone have a beautiful moment, did I help someone ever so slightly
develop a capacity into an ability, did I go through the day without a
fret, did I learn something new about teaching, others, myself, and what
do I have to promise myself for tomorrow?
I do these three things because I don't want my credo or my avowed
purpose to be like most shelved, dust gathering, seldom read campus
mission statements: a lot of high-sounding, but empty and meaningless
cliches, "a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying
nothing." I want that credo to be off the shelf, in my face, into my
soul, as my on-going and never-ending guiding value light. I'd like to be
able to say, to have others say each and every day, as they are saying of
one of my heroes this day, that I am an adventurer, a discoverer, a doer,
a maker of magic, a good, kind, uplifting, loving, joyful, gentle person
who not only cared a lot, but cared to do a lot.
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