Musings from a Not-So-Master Teacher

When Socrates visited the oracle of Delphi, he admitted that he knew nothing.  I think there is something to be said about that.  In fact, when I think of the world's greatest teachers, the all seem to have a common trait of humility.  Even those who do not agree with Jesus' words have found his sense of humility refreshing.  Rather than resorting to high flown rhetoric and the latest educational terminology of the day, he simply spoke stories - well crafted, often confusing, always profound.  He listened. 

I think that was missing when they taught me how to teach.  Indeed, my own arrogance probably prevented me from hearing it.  I learned Bloom's Taxonomy and Multiple Inteligences and the difference between norm or criterion-referenced tests.  What I didn't learn was the power of humility - of apologizing to a student when I've been hurtful, of listening to veteran teachers instead of "having all the answers," of realizing that all teachers are in a state of growth.  Instead, I found myself ranking teachers like the back of a baseball card. 

This last year, when I asked students on the last day of school to write the words that would describe the perfect teacher, "caring" was number one, followed by "funny" and then "humble."  None of them mentioned "has it all together" or "really confident" or "has a great resume."  I'm not meaning to slam good resumes or knowledgable teachers.  Certainly, there is a place for master teachers and workshop leaders and all of that.  I just don't think it's as important as I once thought. 

So, in starting this school year, I want to be more humble.  I'm not sure what that means yet.  In fact, there are moments in blogging where I have looked back and seen my own arrogance.  I guess that's the paradox of humility, though: when you finally recognize it is when you are finally on the journey to being humble, while those who claim humility are most likely pretty arrogant.