Only mad dogs and Englishmen go out into the torrid darkness. It was 5 am and the temperature was hovering at 81 degrees with a humidity of 88%! That turned my sharp rat-a-tat tatting into soupy slosh-slosh-slosh sloshing. As I squished down the dark streets of Valdosta, feeling that I was slowing turning into a pillar of exuded body salt, I was thinking of the “Oath of Maimonides.” It’s one of my daily reminders taped in the office that I read before I go to each class. For those who don’t know it, it goes like this:
The eternal providence has appointed me to watch over the life and health of Thy creatures. May the love for my art actuate me at all time; may neither avarice nor miserliness, nor thirst for glory or for a great reputation engage my mind; for the enemies of truth and philanthropy could easily deceive me and make me forgetful of my lofty aim of doing good to Thy children. May I never see in the patient anything but a fellow creature in pain.
Grant me the strength, time and opportunity always to correct what I have acquired, always to extend its domain; for knowledge is immense and the spirit of man can extend indefinitely to enrich itself daily with new requirements.
Today he can discover his errors of yesterday and tomorrow he can obtain a new light on what he thinks himself sure of today. Oh, God, Thou has appointed me to watch over the life and death of Thy creatures; here am I ready for my vocation and now I turn unto my calling.”
For my teaching, I translate that Oath into: “Let me turn my profession into my calling. Inspire me with love for each student. In each student let me see only the human being.”
What got me thinking of this Oath was both my good friend Steve, an adherent of that Oath, and an e-mail I received yesterday from a Canadian friend and e-colleague about a violator of that Oath.. This is part of what she wrote:
….a second year student raised her hand to ask the professor a question. The student received a tirade in which she was told that, as a second year student, she was too stupid to understand what the prof was saying and that she had no right to question him. He then drew the student a map to the registrar’s office so she could go and unregister herself from his class. My student also made the mistake of visiting this prof in his office to ask for clarification of his grading. The tirade she received was a carbon copy of the one given in class, leaving her in tears….
Whom do most us decide are the best teachers? Well, thinking some more of my friend Steve and some of the recent research I’ve been reading, that’s easy. They sure aren’t the ones who are consumed with academic avarice, scholarly greed, and/or professional selfishness; they aren’t the ones with a tunnel vision on getting tenure; they aren’t the ones driven to get that promotion; they aren’t the ones who give everything they’ve got to researching and publishing; they aren’t the “I don’t have time for…” and “I don’t want to be bothered with…” ones who ought to be selling shoes rather than selling learning. The professors who tend to focus on acquiring tenure or have their minds on publishing that next manuscript or are putting their hearts into getting that next grant, or centering on increasing their reputation, tend to become distance presenters, cold testers, disengaged grade-givers, insensitive and oblivious to the needs of most students in the classroom with them, controlling, exercisers of authoritarian power over the powerless, often trying to separate what might they might call the wheat from the chafe with near-abusive “scare the hell out of them out of the class” tactics, putting less effort into being a “charismatic” classroom teacher cast in the “you have to take this prof” role. Pull out a copy of PBS’ “Declining By Degrees,” and you’ll see and hear what I mean.
No! To be among the best teachers, like Steve, you have to follow Maimonides whether you know the Oath or not. You have to pass the academic SAT: Scholastic Altruism Test. You have to know that academia exists to serve the students. So, the best teachers see themselves as what I call “servant teachers.” The best teachers, then, are always judged by how much they give to and serve others. The best teachers, like Steve, are selfless, not selfish. When it comes to a student, like Steve, they see value, beauty, sacredness, uniqueness, potential, ability, talent, creativity, and imagination. When it comes to a student, like Steve, they bother; they make the effort; they take the time. They know that a vision not put into action, a word not converted into deed, is like an unlit candle. It sheds no light, spreads no warmth, never shows the way, doesn’t chase away the darkness and cold, doesn’t bring newness and faith and hope and love, and it certainly doesn’t light up the place. It is little wonder that for the likes of Steve the classroom is a very special, beautiful, magical, and meaningful place to “of doing good to thy children.”
So, as this new term begins, it would do us and each student well for us to intently read and accept the challenge of truly following Maimonides’ Oath.
Make it a good day.
Louis