1. It's tough to write a paper when you feel like you only have a tenuous grasp of the material. Theory is difficult stuff. The professor leading the class explained the material well. I took good notes in class, asked, and even answered questions. But I still spent the weekend chiseling my way through sentences like, "The jubilant assumption of his specular image by the kind of being. . .the little man is at the infans stage thus seems to me to manifest in an exemplary situation the symbolic matrix in which the I is precipitated in a primordial form, prior to being objectified in the dialectic of identification with the other, and before language restores to it in the universal, its function as subject" (Lacan, "The Mirror Stage"). Surely, none of the material I give my own students compares to this, right? But it's not about the relative difficulty of the material. Instead, it's about recognizing in my own anxiety exactly how students must feel when faced with certain writing assignments. Overall, I was able to understand enough to cobble together answers to the questions. But it required reading and rereading. And then rereading again. Which leads to the second thing:
2. It's time consuming to write a paper when you have a tenuous grasp on the material but are really invested and want to do well. Knowing that I had other responsibilities to take care of, I gave myself blocks of time. For example, on Saturday morning I said I would work from 9-11, then do some other business. I remember looking at the clock, thinking, "ok, it's 10:30. Let me finish working on this one point." And then I remember looking up to see that it was noon. It's like this work creates a weird kind of missing time syndrome.
But that's not all, because working on the paper also reminded me of this:
3. Writing is grueling. It's a mental workout like no other. Sometime in the last year, I heard somebody describe writing as the most difficult thing you can do because it's like conducting an orchestra. There is just so much to keep track off. For starters, there's the ideas, the stylistic decisions, and the clarity. At the same time I am attending to Lacan's mirror stage and trying to delineate the ways in which it informs an Althusser's theory that all individuals are subjects of ideology, I also need to consider my use of language, grammar, and punctuation. Did I just write a bunch of long sentences? Then how about a short one. Right here. I looked forward to the opportunity to shovel my driveway because it offered an hour long respite from the mental calisthenics.Which brings me to the final thing:
4. As a teacher, I must do my best to remember these things I've learned or been reminded of because it is humbling. I've read a lot about design thinking lately. One of the most attractive aspects of the process is the focus on empathy. We all agree that students need situations that ask them to practice this skill. But so do teachers. Generally speaking, the people I work with are among the most empathetic I know. However, most of us know our content so well that, even if we don't know our field as thoroughly as we should, we can rely on our previous experience with the material to see us through. One way or another, it is easy to forget what it is like to be a novice in our field. If the empathic relationship is predicated on understanding deeply the concerns, desires, and struggles of another person, it behooves us to perceive our classes from a student's perspective, to try to "defamiliarize" ourselves with what we know and do. Achieving this leads to a more trusting, genuine relationship because it frees me from playing the expert. Instead, I can focus on the role I truly want to inhabit: a thinker who can teach what he has learned but also continue to grow.
No comments:
Post a Comment