Grades, Success, and Katie

I’m still thinking about the tone of accomplishment, self-satisfaction, and peace of mind in Katie’s voice. I can still see her gleaming eyes and beaming smile as she spoke to me on the telephone. She deserves it. I want you all to know that she is a winner. . True, she only had a “C” GPA. Nevertheless, knowing what I know, had I been at graduation, I would have stood up, applauded her, and loudly yelled a “go Katie” as she crossed the stage. Though she didn’t amass awards and recognitions, though she didn’t have what too many might call an impressive GPA, though she was “merely” what others would have dismissed as “average,” what she did is rewarding and impressive, far above average, and ought to be recognized. Her achievement isn’t in amassing academic glory and riches. Her achievement is more outstanding than any academic honor can bestow. She graduated as an honorable person. Her achievement is giving it all she had, not trying to be better than others, just struggling to better herself, and leaving it all on the field in the process. Her achievement is in her transformation. She may not have gotten the grade, but she sure did get heart. That’s success in my book! She can stand tall and I will stand proudly, though humbly, next to her. She’s my Suma Cum Laude!

Take heed about judging a person by his or her transcript. Referring to the Bard, the grade doth not make the person. The honors and recognitions say a lot about what other people think you’ve done; it doesn’t say a thing about who you are. A lot of kids like Katie have to really struggle to get somewhere and sadly a lot of kids don’t or won’t. The former overcome a lot of obstacles, rise to a lot of challenges, take a lot of risks, fall a lot, get up a lot, learn a lot, come to have a lot of faith, get a lot of confidence, grow a lot, improve a lot, and transform a lot. The latter don’t. The former strive to become what they are capable of becoming. The latter don’t.

You can get a “good grade” with second rate effort or no effort at all, and you can get an “average grade” with first rate effort. The better grade doesn’t necessarily mean you learned more and the lesser grade doesn’t necessarily mean you learned less. The better grade doesn’t make you better if you do less than you have to give; the lesser grade doesn’t make you less if you do more and give it all you have.

Katie is my Rudy: “Go Katie! You’re the woman!”

Make it a good day.

–Louis–

Come Back In A While

Got a call early this morning, real early. Luckily my angelic Susan was already fluttering about getting ready for the lobster party we were co-hosting tonight.

“Hey, Schmier. This is Katie. Finally!”

Oh, did I know that voice. “Kinda early isn’t it?”

“Oh, you’ve been up for hours. I bet you’ve already walked.”

“Just got it.”

“I’ve been trying to get you for over a week. Where have you been? Why I didn’t see you at my graduation? ”

“Sorry. I was going to, but I had personal family problems come down, and my wife and I had to hop in the car and run up to Charlotte. You know, one of life’s unexpected curve balls.”

“Well, I’m sorry to hear about that. You’ve had a bunch of those pitched at you this past year. I still wish you were here.”

“Me, too.”

“I wanted you to see me in my graduation gown and walk across the stage. I also wanted you to meet my parents so I could brag on you.”

“I hope you bragged on yourself. You’ve earned the right.”

“Well, anyway, I’m about to be off. I wanted to thank you for being there for me all these years. You didn’t have to be.”

“Yes, I did.”

“I owe you big time for all you’ve done. I want the world to know that thanks to you, and only to you, I never gave up. I stayed in school and stayed with it all, got off of everything, changed my life around, got good grades, graduated, and got a good job waiting for me. I’m going to be a career girl that you’ll be proud of. Can you believe that?”

“Who will be proud of?”

“Me.”

“Yes. You deserve all the credit. You’ve done all of it yourself. You’ve come a long way, a real long way. You decided to climb your mountains. You should be proud of that. Don’t ever forget that everything you’ve done is the result of choices you chose to make and the risks you chose to take and the faith you chose to have in yourself.”

“Not without knowing you were only a phone call away or in that funky place you call your office if I weakened and was tempted or got off course in one of my courses.”

“I truly appreciate what you just said. Thanks. But, the most important days of your graduation begin with your tomorrows. That’s why they call graduation ‘commencement.’ So, come back in a while and then tell me what you owe to me. Anything I might have done is now in your hands to shape. Come back and show me how you turned out in life. Show me that I’ve helped you help yourself continue to become who you are capable of becoming. Show me how well you’ve done with your life. I don’t care what job you get. I don’t care how much you make a year. I don’t want to hear about your clothes, your car, and your ‘stuff.’ Show me the stuff you’re made of. Show me what you’ve made of your life. Talk to me about your choices and conduct. Talk to me about purpose, integrity, caring, respect. Tell me how you continued to resist temptation. Tell my how you helped others like you were helped. Tell me how you changed obstacles into opportunities. Tell me how you weren’t afraid of taking risks. Tell me how you got up after you fell.”

“Why did I know this was coming,” she chuckled.

“Well, your grades were just a very small part of your success. Your success at VSU laid in the fact that you started to learn to believe in yourself and trust yourself, and to risk giving it all you have. It was only the beginning. I want you never to forget that in your case, your grades were a reflection of that new sight and perseverance and commitment and change, but they weren’t success itself. Your career likewise will be a small part of it all. What you will do will be a small part of it. Who you will become will be all of it. Come back in a while and talk of the really important things you’ve done and who you have become.”

“Always teachin’, aren’t you, Schmier.”

“Always teachin’.”

Make it a good day.

–Louis–

Everyday Mitzvahs, IV

There are times I love one particular one syllable four letter word. It can be so to the point. It’s so short and last so long. It’s so quick to say and yet means so much. In one staccato breath, you have lasting impact. With this one word you can speak proverbial volumes. I used it emphatically on the last day of the semester. It was the last thing I said to the students at the end of end-of-semester “closure.” I told them “I love ya.”

 Love. That’s a lovely a four letter word. I love it! It is not just the secret to performing mitzvahs; it is, as the great rabbi, Hillel, said, love itself. It’s an oxymoron to say you can perform a mitzvah without love, that you can be kind without love, that you can be considerate without love, that you can be respectful without love. And, it is no different with teaching! Love is the secret to being a successful teacher. Love is what teaching is all about. No, I’ll go farther. Teaching is love, unconditional love, itself. That became my avowed first principle of teaching over eight years ago. Without love, whatever act you perform is uninspired and insipid, and it falls flat. When you perform an act with unconditional love, it is full and comes alive.

 Now, I’m not talking about figurative love, that is, love of your subject or love of your position or love of your authority or love to lecture or love of your research and publication. As Bob Dylan would say, I’m talking about something that’s not just a four-letter word. I am talking about love for each person. I will submit without hesitation or equivocation or reservation that you cannot truly teach unless you have love for each and every person. Without love you remain distant and detached. Sure, you can do the technical stuff and call it teaching. You can lecture, discuss, assign, test, and grade. However, they don’t provide a spiritual base. They don’t touch the deepest place in a person’s heart. They don’t transport you to high places. They don’t give you a sense of otherness. They don’t make you listen to and see others. They don’t keep hope alive. They don’t keep the fires of faith burning. They don’t keep the fountain of youth gushing. They don’t invest you in life and thus in change and transformation. As Leo Buscaglia might say, they don’t get you beyond just being so that you can be in touch with being human and becoming a human being. They don’t catch the beauty of the moment. They don’t open your arms and keep them open. They don’t make you more selfless, more respecting, more trusting, more giving, more confident, more sensitive, more mindful, more aware, warmer, more caring, more supporting, more encouraging, more believing, and, above all, more loving in the way you feel, the way you think, the way you talk, and the way you behave towards students.

 Think I’m being mushy, naïve, giggly, sappy, wishy-washy, and touchy-feely? Think I’m being impractical? Think I’m being unprofessional? My colleague and friend, Pat Burns, sent me a statement by Major-General John H. Stanford, a retired battle hardened veteran of Korea, Vietnam, and the Gulf War. He was Superintendent of the Seattle school system when he was asked about the secret to success about the educational “revolution” he triggered in Seattle. His answer is now hanging above my computer where I can see it every day. These are his words:
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When anyone asks me that question, I tell them I have the secret to success in life. The secret to success is to stay in love. Staying in love gives you the fire to ignite other people, to see inside other people, to have a greater desire to get things done than other people. A person who is not in love doesn’t really feel the kind of excitement that helps them to get ahead and to lead others to achieve. I don’t know any other fire, any other thing in life that is more exhilarating and is more positive a feeling than love is.
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 Love sounds doggone practical to me. Now, staying in love is what I might call a “constant mitzvah.” I am convinced of that; I trust that; I don’t doubt that. I grow in it; I’m dedicated to it; I live it. I’ve used it the subtitle of the forthcoming third volume of collected Random Thoughts. So, for better or worse, I freely admit that I am a prisoner of my own loving assumptions: that each student has a unique potential. It’s impossible for me not to see what I assume is there: a sacred human being worthy of notice. It’s impossible for me not to lift my eyes beyond discipline, position, and scholarship to focus on what I hold most sacred in academia: a person. It’s impossible for me not to strive to accomplish what I assume I can do: to use all my energy and talent to help each student help him/herself become the person he or she is capable of becoming. It’s impossible for me not to be what I need to be: authentic, vulnerable, risk-taking, experimental, engaged, trustworthy, and respectful. It’s impossible for me not to feel what I feel for each student: love. It’s impossible for me to allow other pursuits to compete with and overwhelm my desire to serve each student. It’s impossible for me not to share my feelings with others–students, faculty, staff, administrators, whomever–so they can hopefully get caught up and share in those feelings. It’s impossible for me not to put my heart into everything I do. So, as Goethe would say, I can’t help but treat students as if they were what they ought to be. That gives me a better chance of performing everyday mitzvahs.

 Trust me. I am not saying that this is easy to do; it’s not. I’m not saying there aren’t obstacles and problems; there are. I’m not saying there won’t be disappointments; there will be. I’m not saying there won’t be annoyances and maybe even aggravations; there will be. I’m not saying you won’t be tested to the hilt; oh, you will be taken to the edge. I am not saying this is a simple matter; it’s not. And I’m not saying the results are guaranteed; they aren’t. Putting your heart into teaching can be heart wrenching. Nevertheless, I am saying that what at times may seem like a burdensome responsibility is in fact a golden opportunity. I am saying that a mitzvah doesn’t cost a thing, but its worth is unimaginable. I am saying that love is about you and your wellbeing as well as that of the student’s. I am saying that the adage “it’s better to give than receive” is true. A successful academic career is not a matter of acquiring a list of publications, of securing a host of grants, of securing tenure and promotions. A successful career comes from giving meaning and purpose to the abilities and resources with which you are blessed in the service of others. I don’t know about you, but my satisfaction factor is closely linked more to giving help than receiving accolades. And yet, I receive. When I perform a mitzvah, or when I have learned that I have inadvertently done one, I become more, not less. I have more, not less. I am enriched, not poorer. I am vitalized, not fatigued. I am strengthened, not atrophied. I am encouraged, not discouraged. I am filled, not depleted. When I give to someone or learn I have given to someone, I get what might be called a “helper’s high.” It’s almost like feeling such a flood of feel-good hormones surging through me that it makes an adrenalin rush feel like a trickle. It seems that when I contribute to the betterment of each student, when I open my heart to listen and care about each of them and serve them, it changes the way I look at the world. I smile. I’m more optimistic, more enthusiastic, and more loving; my life and work are fuller, more meaningful, more purposeful, and more joyous; and, I am more at peace and happier.

Make it a good day.

–Louis–

Everyday Mitzvahs, III

You never know. That’s why in Judaism there is no such thing as a small mitzvah. What we think is insignificant can swell up to have great consequences. A couple of weeks ago, that was brought home to me by a message from a student, whom I remembered, thanking me for something I don’t remember doing. Whatever it was I did, it helped him put on a face of hope and faith with sparkling eyes open to his incredible potential. He’s now a teacher.

 You never know, do you, when a light supporting tap on the head or a soft encouraging grab of a shoulder or a few quiet hopeful words or a caring and listening ear have a heartpower than can crack the thickest of walls. You never know the impact of taking a few seconds to help someone feel a little more noticed, worthy, appreciated, accepted, recognized, and loved. It’s a heartful lesson to take to heart. What we should know is that what we do and the manner in which we do don’t stop at the classroom door and the edges of the campus and the end of the term and on the transcript and even at graduation. Possibilities today lead to possibilities tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, and for the days to come far beyond the horizon. Choices we offer build on choices; consequences build on consequences; opportunities build on opportunities, transformations build on transformations.

 So, we have to be mindful that what we do will effect people for the rest of their lives, and they will effect others. Like the pink bunny, you, through them, go on and on and on, far and wide, way beyond you and the campus, in people and to places you will never know about. You will do something that will set in motion a lifetime’s worth of thought, feeling, and action. It’s more often than not like nudging a ship as it heads out to sea: you alter its course every so slightly. You don’t think you’ve done very much, if anything. Yet, far out of your sight and long gone from your memory, the ship will hit landfall hundreds or thousands of miles from its original port of call. Somewhere, for better or worse, today, someone’s life has been affected by what you’ve done in the past; sometime and somewhere in the future, for better or worse, someone’s life will be affected by what you do today.

 Think about that. Think about the incredible opportunity and heavy responsibility that is. You must be mindful that the influence you have on a life, including your own, is immensely greater than it may appear on the surface. Many of us use the metaphor that teachers are as ewers who pour information and maybe knowledge into the empty vessel of a student. Well, I say, if you’re gong to pour anything into a student, pour your heart into him or her. The more kindness, mindfulness, thoughtfulness, love, you put into what you think, feel, and do, the more you will give it all you’ve got, the more you will do whatever it takes, the more their value will radiate out into the world far beyond the horizon. Teach each moment with goodness, truth, authenticity, trust, integrity, respect, and especially love, and in more ways than you can possibly know, you’ll have a better chance of making the world a better place both for you and each of them.

Make it a good day.

      –Louis–

Everyday Mitzvah, II

 Yes, a mitzvah is a potent teaching tool. For if Thich Nhat Hanh, Martin Seligman, Deepak Chopra, Jon Kabat-Zin, Jack Kornfield, Parker Palmer, Daniel Goleman, Peter Senge, I, and a host of others whom I’ve mention over time are right when we say in various ways that we teach who we are, then, students likewise perform who they are. And, if we as teachers want students to do more or do differently, if we want them to strive to become the persons they are capable of becoming, we have to teach to the whole person of the student, get to whom each is, and help each of them transform.

 I wish I could tell you the details of a particular story that embodies the power of mitzvah and what I believe teaching to be. I can’t. The story is too personal and confidential to share. All I can say is that it concerns an eighteen year old first year student whom I’ll call Judy. As I read her last journal entry for the semester, my eyes glazed over, my muscles slacked, my shoulders drooped, my breath slowed and deepened. With her expressed permission, I do want to share that entry, for it tells us what teaching truly is:
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You know day after day you wrote the Words for the Day on Vista all those weeks while you were at home recovering from your cancer surgery and then on the board when you came back to class, Words of the Day like “Lessons learned must be lessons lived. “Impossible things are accomplished every day,” “’Hard’ is not the same as ‘impossible,’” “Miracles do happen; you just have to work hard for them to occur,” “The only limits you have are the ones you place on yourself,” “Fences are great for lawns; they suck when it comes to your spirit.” “No one can depreciate you without your permission.” “The longer you carry a grudge the heavier it gets.” “You are the choices you make.” At first I thought they were sappy. Then I found myself copying them into a notebook and reading them over and over and over again. They all were hitting home even though I didn’t understand that at the time. Then, I slowly realized what an effect they were having on me because I felt as if you were talking directly to me. Soon, I found myself writing to you about my….in my journal and you sharing yourself with me in reply to show me that I was not alone. I’m not sure why I could tell you what I’ve never told anyone about……I don’t really know why I felt safe that I could trust you with the deep dark secret eating at me and come out from the corner in that the black room I had locked myself in for so many years. I don’t really know why. I didn’t have a chance to get to really know you. You were in class only for about a week and a half before you went into surgery. Maybe it was the story of your painted pinky nail. Maybe it was what you called your genesis story about how you started admitting your stuff to yourself about yourself, shared your secrets with us, how you started to come out from your own locked, dark room and started working on yourself, and began changing your straw into gold. Maybe it was while you were facing cancer and major surgery and a month of recovering at home and months more of getting back to normal, you never stopped thinking about us. You never stopped making sure we wouldn’t get hurt. You never stopped caring about us. Maybe it was all that belief and trust you had in us that we could carry the load while you were recovering. Maybe, in spite of ourselves, we couldn’t help but believe you were sincere and what we saw was what we were really getting. Maybe it was the fact you never stopped laughing and smiling in the face of all the stuff that was coming down. Maybe I felt that if you could do it, why couldn’t I take the chance to do something I’ve never thought I could do: free myself up and change. Maybe it was all of these maybes. Whatever it was, something told me that I could trust you and I just puked up all that stuff inside me just like you did with yourself when you had your epiphany.

For you, teaching is a passion for the possible and for you all things are possible. And somehow and for some reason you saw me as one of those “possibles” before I did. You live those words you write and you model them for us and challenge us to do the same. I don’t think everyone gets it or wants to get it. Well, I want you to know, as you do from my journal, I got it. I guess it was time. It wasn’t easy. Still isn’t. Probably won’t be for a long while. I got to get over a lot of bad habits of how I look at myself and learn new ones. It’s hard pulling out those posts of the fence I had place around myself. It’s hard to come out into the light after being in the dark for so long. But, hard is not impossible, is it. I feel like I’m beginning to walk all over. I just want you to know in this final entry of my journal that you’ve help me start to come to terms with…. No, I don’t think you’d agree to what I just said. You’ve helped me help myself to go past the limits I thought existed, past disbelief, past hesitations, past the point of giving up, to the point of finding a faith, of stirring a courage to do more than just get by, of stirring of a hope in me, of having a trust and belief, of exploring my abilities and talents, of opening doors to my real potential, of opening the window and letting the warm fresh air in and getting rid of the cold, musty, stale air, and of just going for it. You somehow saw my gold where I saw only saw straw and convinced me that there just may be more to me than I thought and let ……convince me was there. You’ve helped me help me fill myself with dreams I never dreamt before that have started pushing away the dark memories that have been strangling me and holding me back such a long time. I’m happier and more self-confident and working harder. I don’t think I’m as dirty any more although I still have to wash myself off a lot more. I used to run myself down and run from myself because I believed what others were saying about me. Long ago I had accepted doing things that I knew wasn’t good for me because I didn’t think I was good enough. I had trained myself for mediocrity at best and certainly for sadness. You helped me start training myself for excellence and happiness. Now I think I may be starting to work to find myself and become in charge of myself like all those feminists we studied. Small steps I thought until you told me no step on a great journey is really small. Without this class, without you, without these first steps in this class, I could not have blossomed as I did, taken a risk with Robert (not his real name), done the projects that we did, learned about my creativity as I did, learned so much American history as I did, and learned so much about me as I did. I see that what I can do is so far beyond what I thought I could do and ever tried to do—and did. I just didn’t trust or believe in myself and hid behind my “I tried.” Once I struggled past my “I can’t” and my “I’m not good enough,” I found I could and was good enough. Now, I don’t have a reason not to believe in myself, have faith, and just do it. Like you quoted Yoda on the board, “Try not. Do. Or, do not. There is no try.” Now, I will stop trying and only do when I used to only try and usually did not.

I also want you to know that I’m changing my major to elementary education and it’s all your fault. Not only am I finding myself, but I think I’m finding what I want to do with my life. I now want to help other students help themselves like you helped me help myself. People catch colds. Well, I’ve caught heat. I’ve caught the heat of your passion. And as I begin to have compassion for myself, I know I’ll be infected with your caring that fired it all up. Don’t ever lose your passion and compassion for each of us no matter what happens and no matter what anyone of us does and anyone says. So, I’m going to leave you with two of your own Words for the Day to always remember. They happen to be my favorite ones and the ones I’m going to learn to live by. The first is: “Who you are is revealed by how you deal with circumstances and other people, not by those circumstances and other people.” The second is: “You are not defined by the judgments of others; they are defined by their need to be judgmental.”

Thanks for being a professor, a mentor, and a unique spirit. You are a joy for me. Have a great summer. Get yourself well while I work on myself. I will see you in the fall…..
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 Everyday mitzvahs. Not so random acts of kindness. Faith. Hope. Love, especially love. This is what teaching is all about: leaving your mark, making a difference, helping to begin a great and wonderful transformation, changing the world, and altering the future, step by step, little miracle by little miracle, day by day, one student at a time. It’s about having a vision, a sense of purpose and meaning, and then filling in the daily details and bringing your dream to life. That’s what it can be for each of us who want it to be. There’s not much money in it. There are lots of challenges. There are lots of risks. There are no guarantees. It’s not simple. It’s not easy. It’s not quick. It demands a lot of attention. It requires a lot of perseverance. It takes a lot of work. It expends a lot of energy. It soaks up a lot of time. But, I guarantee the gratification can be something else.

Make it a good day.

      –Louis–

Everyday Mitzvahs

 As this semester comes to an end and I face a summer hiatus from teaching, I have to admit that I will miss it all. I love being on my campus. I love walking it. I love the students. I love to chit chat with the cleaning crews, maintenance people, grounds keepers, campus police, secretaries, whomever. I love what I do and am doing what I love. I mean that literally. I am really lucky. I wake up with an expectant “yes,” walk the little more than a block to campus from my house with an excited “yes,” and go to sleep with a contented “yes.”

 So, what is it that I love? What is it that every day takes me to some place where I’ve never been before? What is teaching? To me, it’s more than merely transmitting information. It’s more than merely preparing students to take some state-wide or national exam. It’s more than helping them get some professional credentials to earn a supposed good living. All these are important and I don’t ignore them, though some people think I do. But, if my teaching were limited only to these aims, I’d be credentialing and not educating, schooling and not helping to transform, teaching to the test and not teaching to the whole person. No, for me, there’s more, much more, to teaching than all that. And, it’s that growing awareness of that all important “much more” which has influenced the evolution of my educational philosophy, my purpose and meaning, and consequently my teaching practices. Teaching, for me, is doing each day what in Hebrew is called a “mitzvah.”

 The word “mitzvah” has two meanings. First, it means “commandment” or “law.” Mitzvah also refers to a good deed or act of human kindness. The two combine in the sense that Jewish law requires we do good deeds. The notion that there is a moral obligation to be kind, helping, respectful, just, and compassionate at all times and in everything we do, including that which we do on our campuses and in our classrooms, is embedded in all of the great religions and secular philosophies. Mitzvah means doing your duty to make the world a more peaceful, loving, creative, respectful, intelligent, and caring place. That’s being a teacher! That’s the teacher’s mission, purpose, and meaning: giving time and energy consciously to leave this world of ours a better place than when we found it

 Being a good teacher, then, is not merely giving a good lecture or making up a good test or developing a good exercise or devising a good project or having a good discussion. Being a good teacher involves doing good for students and helping them learn to do good and to do well. As teachers, our challenge, then, is to make every day in that classroom, as well as on our campus, a good deed day, a mitzvah day, for each student and to never stop looking for ways to make people and thus the world better through what we do. Our teaching should teach people how to be supple. It should help them learn for themselves to deal with those two incontrovertible and inviolable truths in life: choice and change. It should widen their horizons and inflame their soul. It should do more than teach people to know what they did not know. Teachers should be on what I’ll call a transforming “as” mission: they should help people learn as they have not learned; they should help people to do with what they know as they have never done; they should help people to feel as they have not felt, to believe as they have not believed, to think as they have not thought, to hope as they have not hoped, to behave as they have not behaved, to be mindful as they have not been mindful.

 More later when I share with you a student’s journal entry that got me started thinking about this,

Make it a good day.

      –Louis–