On Teaching

I’ve found that learning is rarely a linear process, far beyond a simple exchange of information, or providing an answer to a question. Rather, learning is akin to weaving a web, with concepts connecting in unexpected ways, forming a strong and beautiful frame.

I persistently revisit old concepts when armed with new perspectives, helping my students build and strengthen their web, ultimately deepening their understanding. The same way I challenge my students, my students have similarly challenged me. Sometimes the listlessness is palpable in the classroom, and I’m presented with the herculean task of squeezing interest out of a room of dejected teenagers. Offering agency tends to work best in these situations. 

I’ve constructed my own web for teaching. Teaching, likewise, isn’t a linear flow of information, with distinct steps that lead to understanding. It is an iterative process that constructs upon an ever-expanding web. With careful observation, one can see messages hidden within the patterns, understand multiple perspectives, build new relationships, and embrace different ways of thinking. 

The attic is often thought of as the emptiest place in a house, but it’s quite the opposite. While the unappealing decorum might put some off, a person with true insight knows that one only stores what they might need later – objects of value. When we look at how the webs gather in the dusty corners of the attic do we realize that there is more going on than meets the eye? When confronted by an indifferent and disengaged student spouting the question “what’s the point of learning all this?” I rise to the challenge and pick up my broom to move their nebulous webs aside, uncovering the gifts that lie beneath. I prime them to receive the most valuable gift of all. A yearning for true knowledge, insight, and understanding – to weave their webs, not to be trapped by them, but to support their exploration into a sophisticated, unorganized domain.

This web of teaching has woven itself into every corner of my life. A comment made in passing by a student can become the backbone for an integral piece of coursework. A game introduced to me by my friends can evolve into a go-to starter activity in class. A podcast I listen to on my daily commute can find itself playing through the speakers to a group of creative writing students. All parts of my life inform my teaching and all parts of teaching inform my life. It’s this cycle of freely flowing information that drives me to continue being curious about expanding my web and honing my craft.