Siddhartha's River

What words can I give you to pocket?
words like river-stones
smooth, thumb-rubbed -
Heavy like sand.

River-rock words that swell
and sink
and speak
in rapid tongues,
too slurred to understand.

-drunk, diving hands, cold wet feet-

Trying to grasp flowing whispers,
trying to hold them to your ear like a shell.

But a river can't live in the still
palm of a hand
because the river is everywhere -
When you know that,
you'll understand.





This poem sort of manifested itself from too much caffeine, and a flood of inspiration that I kind of felt coming. The start of monsoon season, so to speak.

I was sitting in Language in Education class, hopped up on diet coke and the sort of zen feeling of the way the syllabus was laid out, and the class itself, and I just had to use up some ink.

Last night I was talking to my roommate and I tried to explain to her the philosophy of the River, from Herman Hesse's Book Siddhartha. (great book by the way) and fell asleep with it still on my mind. Then in class, we were talking about alot of things, and I was just so reminded of how wrong alot of University English classes are. We who love the language, and the art, are forced to tear it apart, rip it into tiny pieces, and flay it alive, try to put it back together in it's most logical way. That's not appreciation, or understanding, or love. In my opinion, its a type of literary sadism, and I found that with me, for every class that tore books/poems/language apart, a piece of my inspiration, my creativity, just kind of withered. Luckily, like any good, growing thing, I can replenish my inspiration and creativity. Sometimes it takes a long time. Sometimes not so much. Anyways, back from the tangent - What we should really be doing in English classes is not learning how to tear things apart, but how to make them. to create not destroy (there's a great quote about this from Erich Fromm, it's beautiful), to nurture that love so that we can nurture that inspiration and creativity in ourselves.

And that, in a tangent filled nut-shell, is how this poem was written. I think it fits the criteria, it's a personal poem that speaks to who I am as an individual, and the attitude I bring to a classroom.






The Siddhartha Quote:

"Did you," so he asked him at one time, "did you too learn that secret from the river: that there is no time?" Vasudeva's face was filled with a bright smile.

"Yes, Siddhartha," he spoke. "It is this what you mean, isn't it: that the river is everywhere at once, at the source and at the mouth, at the waterfall, at the ferry, at the rapids, in the sea, in the mountains, everywhere at once, and that there is only the present time for it, not the shadow of the past, not the shadow of the future?"

"This it is," said Siddhartha. "And when I had learned it, I looked at my life, and it was also a river, and the boy Siddhartha was only separated from the man Siddhartha and from the old man Siddhartha by a shadow, not by something real. Also, Siddhartha's previous births were no past, and his death and his return to Brahma was no future. Nothing was, nothing will be; everything is, everything has existence and is present."

The Erich Fromm Quote:

"That man can destroy life is just as miraculous a feat as that he can create it, for life is the miracle, the inexplicable. In the act of destruction, man sets himself above life; he transcends himself as a creature. Thus, the ultimate choice for a man, inasmuch as he is driven to transcend himself, is to create or to destroy, to love or to hate."

-The Sane Society

Taking a Breath

So This is the life of an education student:

• Inspiring, intensely passionate classes
• a ton of repeated introductions
• a quick rapport and an easy bond with other Ed. Students
• a whole lot of groups
• about a thousand group projects, essays, lesson plans, and micro-teaches (okay, maybe not a thousand...exactly...)

This has been some week. I'm trying to think reflectively about specific lessons and classes, but everything seems to blur into each other and overlap, like an out of focus film. Everything touches on another aspect covered in another class, and I suspect that the reason for it is that teaching is a holistic profession. If there is one theme running through it all, it's that you can't teach in a vaccuum. (Though I suspect no one has actually tried to set up class inside a hoover...) What I mean by that is: It has to be a holistic approach to the students and the subject, because as human beings, students have so many other things in their life that need to be taken into account that influence everything from behaviour to learning styles to the choice to fidget or doodle in class. If those things act on and influence students, they impact the class too, and the class itself will probably influence the students' life outside it.

A specific lesson I took alot away from however, was the "Teacher as a Preformer" seminar. There was something really relieving about acting out situations that started out troublesome, and just gradually got worse. My first journal entry, I outlined some of my fears, which really do trouble me at times. Mostly fears of not getting it right. So it was worthwhile for me to put into practice some of the techniques and procedures for dealing with bad situations, if just to soothe my own fears. I never really knew what to do if a student was talking out of turn, or being insolent. Now I know some things I can do, some ways to react to it, instead of flying by the seat of my pants.

I also appreciated the activities in the beggining of class. The "get to know your nieghbour" game was a great way to avoid that awkward self-introduction, and get that uncomfortable, alone feeling out of the room. It lightened the mood, and brought everyone to the same level. I think there was a deffinite camraderie within that room, and it just got better, even though the situations we were supposed to act out steadily got worse, eventually leading to an acted out fist-fight. It was a great class, and I know that I'll deffinitely use the "get to know your neighbour" game in my own classroom at some point.

"A Truly Great Teacher" or "Why I Learned"

I learned from Mr. Y* because he was a teacher that understood us. By us I mean that whole unruly, struggling for independance, trying to break free or keep in step breed: Teenagers.

he seemed to have this innate sense of how to relate to everyone, as a class and as individuals. we weren't numbers, or just children, we were people, and we were human. He thrived on challenging us, on demanding excellence. He was a strict teacher, but his punishments were only as bad as his rewards were good. He was fair, and caring.

He had this immense passion for history and politics which touched a nerve in me - both shape our current world, and he didn't let you forget it. It was graphic and harsh sometimes, but it was important that we knew there was a bigger, wider world out there than Cold Lake, Alberta, and that it affected us, and that one day, in the very near future, we'd be able to affect it too.

He made learning matter. He made it real - not just rote information from a badly written text book, and he'd do anything he could, even something completely unorthodox to make you learn it. He's the only teacher I know, who was able to use video games effectively in class.

He also went out of his way to show you he cared. To show you, you were important, to make you smile, or make you feel a little better if you were down. He went so far out of his way for us, it only seemed right to do the same for him.

"All this had always been and he had never seen it; he was never present.
Now he was present and belonged to it. Through his eyes he saw light and
shadows; through his mind he was aware of moon and stars"

~Siddartha on appreciating the beauty of the world: Siddartha by Herman Hesse

A Great Teacher?

I will be a great teacher when...

...I allow myself to make mistakes. I have a perfectionist streak that got me this far, but that will be more of a burden than a help in the classroom, I suspect. I also worry that I might not do well - I have to learn not to measure things so much in success and failure as in experience and moments to grow from. I'll be a great teacher when I let my perfectionism and worry fall by the wayside.

I think experience itself plays a big role in becoming a great teacher. When getting up in front of the class is routine (or at least more routine than not) I think it will be easier not to build up every day into something with alot of potential to be either negative or positive, but just to let it unfold.

I think the biggest challenge for me will be to find serenity in acceptance. When I bomb something, or get extremely embarrassed, I think I do what alot of people do, and dwell on it continually. I'll pick it apart, re-analyze every little piece of the excruciating situation moment by moment (focusing of course, on where it really got bad). I can't do that. It's just sadistic self-torture. I gain nothing from it, because I'm still so emotionally invested in the complete and utter failure that i miss what good I could gain from re-analysis. I invest so much emotion into the work that I do that I make it very personal at times. I've got to recognize that when something goes wrong in the classroom the fault won't always be mine, and when it is, I need to really develop an ability to step back and distance myself from it. That way I can look at things logically, and assess what caused the situation and how to diffuse it in the present, or the future.

"One must find the source within one's own Self, one must possess
it," ~Siddartha on truth: Siddartha by Herman Hesse

My Mission Statement

To me, Teaching is an act of immense dedication and love. It's not simply one way, but reciprocal, a teacher gains as much from students as they do from teachers. The act of teaching is more than the relay of subject and curriculum, it's the act of illuminating possibilities and dreams for the future. Teaching instills much more than academic knowledge to students. It creates a safe space and time for expression and discovery, fostering self-worth, understanding, and passion - three things for successful navigation of the future.

I believe each child has the right to learn, to be heard, and to discover. Only through questioning can answers be found. The Teacher must not only impart knowledge, but be able to step back and allow for knowledge to be discovered.

As a teacher, I believe it is my duty to teach my students the skills they need to see the world in different ways, explore new perspectives, and to challenge themselves. That way learning is not what they do "because", but because of their own curiosity.

I want students to be able to walk out of my classroom with an ability to think critically about the world around them, to approach cultural differences with curiosity and respect, and above all to feel empowered.

Unorthodox

Okay, So maybe this is a little unorthodox, a blog for my Teaching Seminar class instead of a journal. I think it accomplishes basically the same thing, except this way, you don't have to suffer through my terrible writing, or the innane doodles (of which, there are many...).

This way, it's out there, There, that big, great expanse of everything, the internet, and maybe someone in the same boat as me will read it, and won't feel as though they're floundering.


Also, Pretty colors. *crooked grin*