Hey, diary. it’s May 18th. I apologize if you feel discombobulated. I know, I’m not talking to you at a set time collectively in some kind of book. You’re scattered all over the place. It’s almost a reflection of the state of “organized chaos” or “chaotic organization” that I revel in. I’ve written to you whenever, wherever, and however the mood hits me, on a scattering of slips of wrinkled paper, backs of crinkled receipts, in my crossword puzzle book, across ripped pieces of tourist pamphlets, in margins of our program booklet, on whatever is in my pockets at whatever time and with whatever is available when something hits me. Bits of you are book marks, stuffed in pockets of pants and shirts, crumpled in the computer bag, and goodness knows where else. I’ll probably lose some of you. Anyway, today, I initially wrote to you on the palm of my hand–before I later transcribed it on the back of a business card–about a brief conversation I had this morning.
“Why do you let us call you “Louis,” I was asked. “You can lose your authority if you get too familiar with them.”
“I want us to be familiar and comfortable with each other. I’d rather be a safe ‘loving presence’ than a scary authority. Whatever ‘influence’ I may have with you,” I quickly replied, “comes from being close with you, not from my imposing ‘Dr. stuff’ or my resume or the threat of having the power of giving a grade.”
You know, diary, I think we academics more often than not judge rather than understand. That messes up our conclusions about why students do or don’t do stuff. We so often stand apart from students because we see them–sometimes even looking down–from a hierarchical administrative and academic perspective. We so often impose assumptions from our limitations; we so often find it so easy to blame without knowing reasons or wanting to know reasons. We so often lapse into moaning and groaning about students whom we really don’t know, especially in those mega-classrooms. Here more is less, and less is more. But, if we got to know each other, if we saw each other on the same plane from an egalitarian point of view, that we’re all sacred, noble, worthy human beings, worthy to be noticed and heard and valued, valuable enough not to be dismissed or discarded, maybe–just maybe–we’d be more apt to be more positive, adapt to circumstances, take heart that in each student are seeds of great potential, rely more on persuasion, and be less inclined to judge, command, and control. That’s more demanding, but it is so much more powerful, meaningful, and productive.
Louis