The Teacher Type

“Education is the kindling of a flame, not the filling of a vessel.”  -- Socrates

If Socrates were alive today I’d give his toga-wearing frame a huge bear hug, look him straight in the eyes, and thank him profusely for acknowledging this truth.  Then I’d ask him how in the world he said so many quote-worthy things that we still reference thousands of years later.

With the exception of one moment of weakness in elementary school when I said the words, “I want to be a teacher,” (out of adoration for Mrs. Most-Awesome-Teacher-Ever) I was otherwise convinced that the field was not for me.  I loved school but there seemed to be a mismatch between me and the profession.  I wasn't a softy-type nurturing personality that could warmly embrace snot-nosed little ones or repeat the basics of multiplication for the eleven-thousandth time.  Likewise, the idea of working with upper level students made me roll my eyes because, as everyone knows, aliens remove teenage brains and don’t return them until much later in life.  When I began setting my sites on viable career paths I objected to the entire field of education under the guise that I didn't have the patience for it.  The only thing I even hesitated to consider was a position on a collegiate level…but I think I was only intrigued by that because Indiana Jones was a college professor by day and an adventuring intellectual by night.  So, pretty much teaching was out. 

Ten years later, look at me…I’m working with middle school students five days a week!

What happened?   I’m not exactly sure.  Throughout college I was persuaded that it was more than the subject matter and routine itself that attracted me to school.  I finally recognized that what I truly loved was to connect the dots, to understand why and how things work -- socially, economically, culturally, historically, mathematically, politically -- all of it.  I left my college campus confident that my 17+ years of schooling had afforded me a real education.  It wasn't because I knew so much or had graduated with honors; it was because I was self-motivated and loved to learn.  In actuality, I could remember being this way before I even started matriculating in kindergarten.  School (and my family) had fanned that natural spark into a blaze that would forever light up my life.

In my twenties (after having gotten my brain back from the aliens) my patience level increased ten fold.  I had numerous experiences with camps, youth groups, and schools and stumbled into some substitute teaching and private tutoring.  During this time I began really appreciating the wonderful minds of infants, children, and young adults.  Kids really say and do the darnedest things.  They see the world in such refreshing ways -- from the bitty ones that are adorably inquisitive to the older ones that know it all and tell you about it.  I can't help but notice these young individuals’ innate abilities to assess and draw conclusions about the world around them.  It is so fascinating to me.  When the opportunity to formally involve myself in the education sector crossed my path in the last year I thought, "Full time with middle schoolers?  Why not!?!"

So, why am I posting about my “town job” in my homestead blog?  It’s true my job takes me off my farm and away from my home.  I will also concede that this job, in an instant, became the single most time- and energy-consuming entity of my week.  Yes, it can be a struggle to keep up with homestead commitments.  And yes, I've had to put other interests far back on the burner for now.  But at this time in my life and at this moment on our homestead, my job is a perfect match.  As part of a grant-based program I accept that my position will be rather short-lived.  For now I’m attempting to join with other educators in kindling the flame for my students...just as it was for me.  I continue to be fully engaged at home and on our farm, but these days I’m also eager to be at school each day.  I’m dedicated to seeing the thirty-one students in my program recognize what they’re capable of.   

I recently sat through a very interesting teacher training with my colleagues.  At one point the moderator asked us to pretend we were students and answer the question, “Why do you come to school?”  The collective reply was, “To learn.”  It’s a perfectly correct textbook answer.  I didn't raise my hand to contribute, but I was thinking more along the lines of, “To ignite a passion for learning.”  Hoity-toity sounding, maybe.  Verbose, definitely.  But I’m convinced that Socrates would give a nod to my train of thought.  True education is only partly about the information being ingested in the formality of “school”.  I would argue that the vast majority of it is about engaging the human desire to learn.  Learning is the ability to seek and absorb information, acquire skills, and gain experience.  I believe we are gifted with this ability at birth.  As teachers are we not ultimately striving to hone this ability in our students by providing information, sharing knowledge, and facilitating practice?  An ignited outlook will carry someone through life on a path of discovery far beyond their receipt of a diploma.  This is essential to each of us as adults, no matter what our work: as parents, mechanics, farmers, engineers, nurses, you name it.  I value formal education, but I find it supremely important that people come to see life as a classroom and themselves empowered as both teacher and student.

I may not be in a brick-building classroom forever, but my passion for education is not dependent on my locale.  I intend to keep educating myself and to do my best to fuel the flame in others as long as I live.  To me, education is a pillar of living a homestead life.  The freedom to passionately learn is one of the main reasons I choose to live the way I do.