When I first learned to type, I never had any "aha!" moments. There were no brilliant epiphanies with a choir of angels and bells and whistles. Slowly, begrudgingly, I tapped away using the proper format. Finally, it was a part of my motor memory and I became proficient at keyboarding - so much so that I hardly ever hand-write anything. In the same way, I never experienced an "aha!" moment in my freshmen public speaking class. However, I gained skills that I use every day in teaching. I never had an "aha!" moment when learning to write a paragraph. Indeed, I simply wanted to be left alone so I could write according to my taste. Yet, I am glad I learned the correct format.
When I survey my entire schooling, it is often the mundane tasks that I end up using in life. It is the sum whole of years of reading and writing and discussion that I end up knowing a subject. True, there were exciting lessons, fun teachers and enrichment activities that gave me a passion for learning. Yet, I am just as thankful for the less exciting lessons where I practiced my times tables or learned phonics.
The reason I write this is that I think it's possible for teachers to get addicted to that "aha!" moment. It can become the chief goal, the ultimate bar of excellence, where a teachers has a "breakthrough." The reality, though, is that authentic learning is often coupled with frustration, confusion and boredom. Besides, I have a hunch that some of those exciting epiphanies turn out to be mere excitement - a simple expression of delight in learning; something a teacher should enjoy because of it's rarity - a sort of filet minot of the daily lesson. Yet, it's often the meat and potatoes and salad that will fuel students in the long haul.