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Copyright © 1997, Louis Schmier and Atwood Publishing.
Date: Tue, 26 Aug 1997 07:23:21 -0400 (EDT)
Subject: Random Thought: Too Much--reply
Boy my
fingers are hurting from replying to the unexpected and
overwhelming response to Tuesday's Random Thought. As I
was deafened by those continuing bays of these dogs of
August, I thought some more about that professor's
message, about a heated discussion the RT triggered in
which I am engulfed where I am being accused of being
touchy-feely, mushy, naive, childish, self-congratulatry,
oversimplied. But, I was also thinking about an
evaluation a student whom I'll call Tom wrote in his
journal whose words probably answer better those
naysayers than anything I could write:
Hey, doc, I
know you're going to read this. So, I want you to see a
longer version of the sealed letter you have us write and
I wrote to some student next quarter about you and this
class. You know I came into this class as a cocky
striaght A senior business major who felt stuck in a
useless freshman history class I had to have because of a
useless advisor's screwup. I had a "I dare you, you
Sonofabitch." But I want you to know that in most
classes, all classes to be honest, I have done everything
I could to get a good grade and didn't really care all
that much if I learned something. In your class, I found
myself struggling to learn and not worrying particularly
about the grade. And you know what? I didn't even realize
that was happening and I didn't realize how much I was
learning because I had so much fun doing each of the
projects. "Fun Learning," that's what this
class is all about, not just boring lectures, threats of
tests, and stuff like that. It's becoming part of the
subject and tying it to our lives, being trusted that we
can become our own learners, giving control of the class
to us. You gave me stuff to think about as I start
helping my father run his business, something like
"fun working." You can have fun and like your
class be demanding and serious and keeping your feet to
the fire. You taught me that if it's fun and rewarding,
work isn't work, and you accomplish an awful lot. I don't
thnk I'll ever forget Hamilton and federalism because of
the commerical ad campaign project, or the struggle of
women in colonial times after writing that piece of
historical fiction, or the early nineteen century reform
that we studied through the scavenger hunts or all the
other informations we got into with the other hands on
projects. I can never say that after a test in other
courses. Minute for minute, day for day, I've learned
more and will remember more information, and understand
it more in this class than in all my other classes put
together.
I don't think, I know, I will never forget
the time you slapped me hard when I came to you
arrograntly complaining to you about my other triad
members and told you they were impossible and that I
didn't want to rely upon someone else for my grade and
liked to work alone and I didn't want my 4.0 to be hurt.
You only asked me what my major was which you already
knew. When I told you that I was a management major about
to graduate with honors, all you said was, "well,
start managing," and you walked away. Remember? I
was pissed and called my father. He told me that being in
business was not a grade or a degree, and that I better
start listening to you. Boy was I pissed at him, too.
But, I have to admit now that I never had a
class that did so much for me in one quarter. And, I know
I'm not the only one. It would have been easier to have
taken a class when I could sit back as usual, take notes,
study for an exam and get a good grade,forget the stuff,
and go out for a beer, but it would not have been better.
Your class was fun, but you never demanded anything less
than our best, and I thought it would be easy what with
no tests and all, but I never worked as hard in a class.
You're doing what none of my business profs had the guts
to do. You've challenged us and yourself; you stepped
outside the lines and made us do the same. Businessmen
that don't have to guts to do that get passed by. This
was a history class, and I learned a hell of a lot of
history, but it was also a class in life, and I'm going
to take into my dad's business a lot of what I learned in
this class. My grade for you is a "B" for
"bringing it home."
I share this
message from Tom not to toot my own horn or to demand you
teach with the style I use. I share this message as an
unconditional rejection of the assertion that the real
sin is caring too much or expecting too much. No, the
real sin, I just told an new found e-mail friend is to
limit "IS" and to give "CAN'T" a free
rein both in the students and in ourselves. As my good
friend, Neil Coddington--actually he often acts as a
welcomed conscience, and sometime an unwelcomed
one--recently told me, we devote so much time and energy
pointing out the negative, trying to determine why
someone cannot succeed rather than trying to find how
success will thrive. How true. Anyone who proclaims
"I can't reach them all," can't, and is just
struggling to excuse and rationalize and validate not
wanting or being able or being afraid to reach out at
all. But, anyone who says, "I'm not reaching them
all, but I want to" will struggle to find ways to do
it.
Time and
time again, I have found that my strong and unswerving
beliefs in, caring about, and high expectation of both
myself and each student have yanked me outside of the
limits of my view of teaching and so many students' view
of education, have stirred new passions in both of us,
have offered us up new adventures, have handed us
challenges to take risks, have led us into doing new and
exciting things, have given me new and exciting ways of
seeing and hearing those unnoticed people whom we pass by
in both the hallways and classes and who pass themselves
by everyday, and have taken us to new places in old
classrooms. In these new places, stagnation and boredom
and routine are forebidden. "Can't" is the
worst of the curse words; "don't and
"won't" are the greatest of sins. There the
ghost of King Midas is running around touching so many
students, slowly and painfully turning supposed waste
into value, shadows into light, accursedness into
sacredness. Everyday people turn into the extraordinary,
the salt of the earth, hope of the world, glistening
light of the future; their everyday sounds turn into
music, their everyday items into sculpture, their
everyday images into art, their everyday activities into
invention, their everyday actions in heroic efforts,
their everyday words into literature, their everyday
struggles into achievement and growth.
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