Find Joy and Bring Joy

For the last few days, especially today, Dr. Martin Luther King Day, Elisha has me thinking about something she said, “I want to find joy and bring joy.”

Isn’t that what being a teacher is all about: getting out of ourselves and into others; caring less about our feelings, our happiness, our security, our convenience, our reputation, our renown, our comfort; caring more to serve, to concern ourselves with the feelings and needs of others; finding joy and bringing joy to ourselves and others? Leo Buscaglia once said that to be a lover you needed the subtlety of the very wise, the flexibility of the child, the sensitivity of the artist, the understanding of the philosopher, the acceptance of the saint, the tolerance of the scholar, and the fortitude of the certain. Not a bad definition of a teacher, is it.

In my struggle to be that lover, to be a servant-teacher, I consciously do three things each day: first, I make promises to myself so that I may serve students better and bring more joy; second, I’ll give whatever I have, I’ll take any risk, accept any challenge, rise to any occasion, do whatever it morally and legally and ethically takes to fulfill those promises; and finally, I honestly ask myself how many of the promises did I keep, and how I can be and do more.

So, at the beginning of each day, in one way or another, I am consciously asking myself one question: “Okay, Louis, how do you want your day to be?” The answer comes in the minute-by-minute choices I will make throughout the day. And, the choices that I make are the result of the extent to which I can keep the promises I make to myself at the beginning of and throughout each day: to be mindful and aware, to learn something new about me, to learn something new about someone else, to limber up and relax, to be willing to make mistakes, to be joyful, to hear and listen, to be excited and create excitement, to be ready to be surprised, to be uplifting, to smile and laugh, to look and see, to have only beautiful moments, to be curious, to be aware of the choices I make each moment, to be prepared for whatever might come, to know that I, like everyone around me, am growing and changing in thousands of different ways at different times, not to take my self too seriously, not to expect perfection, not to try to control, be aware of all the beauty in people around me, gently reach out and touch with my feelings and words and eyes and hands.

Now, fulfilling those promises is not a piece of cake. It’s more often than not an effort and a challenge. My friend, Brian Johnson, sent me a quote of Abraham Maslow: “You will either step forward into growth or you will step back into safety.” I think Maslow was saying that I always must keep my eyes on the prize, keep my expectations higher than my present reality, that who I become flows naturally from what I expect of myself and what I expect myself to be. That’s the choice, both Maslow and Yoda, and especially Dr. King, offer us, isn’t it: do or merely try, grow or stagnate, dare or cower, take it easy or labor, risk or play it safe; step forward or step back.

This Martin Luther King day. Dr. King was and remains an example of those same choices. After all, what is it that we are remembering and celebrating this day? His birthday? Not really. His lofty words? Sure. His dream? Of course. But, in truth, we are not just celebrating what he said or dreamt or what might have been had his life not been cut short. We are celebrating the simple fact that because of him we are closer to a cure for the disease of racial disrespect that afflicts us all. We are remembering that he was a “doer,” not merely a “tryer.” We are commemorating that because of him we are a healthier community, a better people, and a more just nation. We are consecrating the trauma and drama of what he did, the personal strength he and others had, the commitment they made, the unswerving dedication and perseverance they displayed, the risks they took, the dangers they faced, the sacrifices they made, the wounds they suffered, and the challenges they overcame to find joy and bring joy to all of us: in the sit-ins, the boycotts, the marches, the voter registration, the imprisonment; through the flames of threats, bricks, killings, bombings, conspiracies, beatings, angry mobs, water hoses, attack dogs, night sticks, hooded klansmen. This day of celebration and remembering is also a day of reflection. On this day, we ponder the promises we made, the risks we have taken, the promises we have fulfilled, the need for us to keep on going on and doing more.

That is the great lesson left us by the accomplishments of Dr. King shortened, but glorious life. Now, dedication, commitment, perseverance, risk, and danger in a classroom at Valdosta State University pale, to say the least, compared to a march in Selma, although the way a lot of academics act you wouldn’t know it. But, the lesson is there nonetheless. A lot of people wrote me off-list saying I was taking too much of a risk by allowing Elisha into class. Too much of a risk? What risk was I taking? What great, life-threatening leap did I make? I’m not going to be hauled off a lynch mob. No one is going to bomb my office. No one is going to torch the classroom. No one is going to beat me to within an inch of my life. No one is going to threaten the life of my wife and children. If there is a risk, it is the risk of doing nothing and telling the Elishas on our campuses that they aren’t worthy and worth our time and effort.

Some of us, unacceptably too many of us, are so busy hesitating because we’re standing around; we don’t feel in control or feel up to the task or don’t have guarantees or are afraid or are into ourselves or just don’t give a damn. We delicately tip-toe through minefields that we ourselves have laid for ourselves. We worry about looking bad; we second guess and rationalize; we rationalize; we have false expectations that teaching is easy, unconsuming, and challenge-free; we fall into the moaning “why me” trap; we want and wait for the perfect time, the perfect place, and the perfect student; we wait for that flashbulb moment of inspiration. Well, that flash won’t go off unless we pick up the camera, aim it, focus it, and press the button. Were I to play it safe and easy and cozy, any more than had Dr. King and the others in the Movement done so, none of those promises I make at the beginning of the day would be fulfilled at the end of the day. I’d put nothing on the line, do nothing, have nothing, be nothing, accomplish nothing, and become nothing. I’d not have the opportunity to uplift, to help heal, to help stimulate, to surprise, to help open new doors, to help bring in fresh air, to help instill a true loving of learning, to help bring light and create excitement in an otherwise darkened and deadening life such as Elisha’s.

So, at the end of each day, I make time to reflect on if I have fulfilled my promises to myself, have I made the choices that make the day the way I wanted it to be: is anyone a little happier because I came along, did I leave any imprint of my kindness and caring, did I help someone discover his or her own magic, did I help someone grow, did I help someone throw open his or her doors and windows of experience to his or her own uniqueness, did I make someone feel more secure, did I help someone smile or laugh, did I help ignite an inner glow, did I help someone have a beautiful moment, did I help someone ever so slightly develop a capacity into an ability, did I go through the day without a fret, did I learn something new about teaching, others, myself, and what do I have to promise myself for tomorrow?

I do these three things because I don’t want my credo or my avowed purpose to be like most shelved, dust gathering, seldom read campus mission statements: a lot of high-sounding, but empty and meaningless cliches, “a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.” I want that credo to be off the shelf, in my face, into my soul, as my on-going and never-ending guiding value light. I’d like to be able to say, to have others say each and every day, as they are saying of one of my heroes this day, that I am an adventurer, a discoverer, a doer, a maker of magic, a good, kind, uplifting, loving, joyful, gentle person who not only cared a lot, but cared to do a lot.

Make it a good day.

–Louis–

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About Louis Schmier

LOUIS SCHMIER “Every student should have a person who wants to help him or her help himself or herself become the person he or she is capable of becoming, and I’ll be damned if I am ever going to let one human being fall through the cracks in my classes without a fight.” How about a snapshot of myself. But, what shall I tell you about me? Something personal? Something philosophical? Something pedagogical? Something scholarly? Nah, I'll dispense with that resume stuff. Since I believe everything we do starts from who we are inside, what we believe, what we perceive, and what we do is an extension of ourselves, how about if I first say some things about myself. Then, maybe, I can ease into other things. My name is Louis Schmier. The first name rhymes with phooey, the last with beer. I am a 76 year old - in body, but not in mind or spirit - born and bred New Yorker who came south in 1963. I met by angelic bride, Susie, on a reluctant blind date at Chapel Hill. We've been married now going on 51 years. We have two marvelous sons. One is a VP at Samsung in San Francisco. The other is an artist with food and is an executive chef at a restaurant in Nashville, Tn. And, they have given us three grandmunchkins upon whom we dote a bit. I power walk 7 miles every other early morning. That’s my essential meditative “Just to …” time. On the other days, I exercise with weights to keep my upper body in shape. I am an avid gardener. I love to cook on my wok. Loving to work with my hands as well as with my heart and mind, I built a three room master complex addition to the house. And, I am a “fixer-upper” who allows very few repairmen to step across the threshold. Oh, by the way, I received my A.B. from then Adelphi College, my M.A. from St. John's University, and my Ph.D. from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. I have been teaching at Valdosta State University in Georgia since 1967. Having retired reluctantly in December, 2012, I currently hold the rank of Professor of History, Emeritus. I prefer the title, “Teacher”. Twenty-five years ago, I had what I consider an “epiphany”. It changed my understanding of myself. I stopped professoring and gave up scholarly research and publication to devote all my time and energy to student. My teaching has taken on the character of a mission. It is a journey that has taken me from seeing only myself to a commitment to vision larger than myself and my self-interest. I now believe that being an educator means I am in the “people business”. I now believe that the most essential element in education is caring about people. Education without caring, without a real human connection, is as viable as a person with a brain but without a heart. So, when I am asked what I teach, I answer unhesitatingly, “I teach students”. I am now more concerned with the students’ learning than my teaching, more concerned with the students as human beings than with the subject. I am more concerned with reaching for students than reaching the height of professional reputation. I believe the heart of education is to educate the heart. The purpose of teaching is to instill in all students genuine, loving, lifelong eagerness to learn and foster a life of continual growth and development. It should encourage and assist students in developing the basic values needed for learning and living: self-discipline, self-confidence, self-worth, integrity, honesty, commitment, perseverance, responsibility, pursuit of excellence, emotional courage, creativity, imagination, humility, and compassion for others. In April, 1993, I began to share ME on the internet: my personal and professional rites of passage, my beliefs about the nature and purpose of an education, a commemoration of student learning and achievement, my successful and not so successful experiences, a proclamation of faith in students, and a celebration of teaching. These electronic sharings are called “Random Thoughts”. There are now over 1000 of them floating out there in cyberspace. The first 185, which chronicles the beginnings of my journey, have been published as collections in three volumes, RANDOM THOUGHTS: THE HUMANITY OF TEACHING, RANDOM THOUGHTS, II: TEACHING FROM THE HEART, RANDOM THOUGHTS, III: TEACHING WITH LOVE, and RANDOM THOUGHTS, IV: THE PASSION OF TEACHING. The chronicle of my continued journey is available in an Ebook on Amazon's Kindle in a volume I call FAITH, HOPE, LOVE: THE SPIRIT OF TEACHING. There a few more untitled volumes in the works..

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