Faith
Some say teaching is an art.
Some say it is a science.
I say teaching is a
spiritual practice.
Here’s why: Learning depends on relationships.
Relationships with other students.
Relationships with teachers.
Relationships with content.
Relationships with skills like reading and writing. (If I hate writing, I won’t do it and hence won’t learn from it.)
If learning depends on relationships, then teaching does, too. That is, teaching is about setting up the conditions under which students’ relationships with all the parts of learning can flourish.
And teaching is about being a person students can attach to and use for their growth. That is, teachers have to be good developmental partners.
Being a good developmental partner is not easy. It takes self-awareness and self-discipline. It takes specialized knowledge, not just about subject matter but about relational dynamics (since relationships are the bedrock of learning and, hence, teaching). It takes tolerance. It takes effective self-care. It requires caring support by others. And it takes
love.
Even in the face of hate. Even in the face of violence. Even in the face of frustration and anger and disbelief. Even in the face of self-doubt and insecurity and despair.
Staying loving in the face of the many shocking behaviors and difficult emotions that buffet teachers seems to me to be the definition of an act of faith. Faith here meaning
sure, centered belief
in the profound power of relationship, of human connection
to help people learn and grow.
This kind of faith is difficult to maintain on your own. I think it is greatly aided by emotion work, which is a chance to be a real human with other real humans who can empathize with bald honesty, who can love you, and who share the commitment to attune relationships and help all students learn. Emotion work is a chance to restore one’s faith when circumstances conspire against it.
By the way? Having this kind of faith, this ability to recenter on the fundamental purpose of teaching, this commitment to unfailing spiritual practice, is an art. It takes creativity and imagination. It’s an esthetic experience, a thing of beauty.
And it’s a science. Based on the truths about how human organisms function separately and in groups. How they fit together to perpetuate dysfunction or promote healthy development. It’s a science based on what we know about how relationships work.