After a week of suffering a cold my grand-daughters gave me with their hugs and kisses, I was ready to hit the pre-dawn streets. It was about 4:30 am. I had brewed some coffee, had read about UNC’s victory over Arkansas, and had done a crossword puzzle on line. As I was finishing my coffee, I decided to take a passing peek at yesterday’s e-mail. As I was deleting a host of uninteresting messages, one heading caught my eye. It read, “Damn You.” I almost deleted it thinking it was a useless spam or a student complaint for having to prepare an issue paper over the weekend for today, but curiosity got the best of me. How wrong I would have been to have sent it off unopened into the abyss of cyberspace. As I read it, I could feel time slowing down. I read and reread and reread the words. Time stopped. I never did get to the streets. Here is a part of it:

Damn, I hate you. All those words for the day on the board have had me thinking in spite of myself. Those words for the day on the board last week especially, ‘You are condemned to a life of making choices,’ have gotten to me. You were sick as a dog last week but boy were those healthy words. I’ve been doing nothing but thinking about them and all the others and feeling them work their curing magic. They are words for an entire life. They built up like a storm that hit while in church during Easter services. I wasn’t listening to the pastor say his usual stuff. I was hearing myself say, ‘Damn, I hate him.’ I said that to myself knowing I shouldn’t swear in church, especially on this day. But, I had to because when I leave this class, if there is one thing I will have learned is that I make my own choices and I have to take responsibility for those choices. I am beginning to see that no one makes me drink or do drugs or not study. I choose. No one gets me into a bed or spreads my legs. I choose to do that. No sense blaming anyone else. I chose always to say yes. This stuff has been on my mind because I’ve been thinking of the things I let some guys do to me and because of what I have been doing to myself. No more. NO MORE! Those words have stuck I am sick of hearing me blame someone else for getting me upset, on my back, smoking weed, in a bar, away from my books. It is about time I realize I am worth something. I don’t have to do those things to show anyone I am their friend or love them. I shouldn’t have to be pressured into doing things I guess I see deep down I don’t want to just to get along and be friendly and because others expect those things of me just to make them feel good. I am good enough and I am tired of choosing to think I am inferior and worth shit. I have to listen to someone, don’t I? Why shouldn’t I listen to you instead of some of my friends who want me to drink and smoke with them or to some guy who sees me only as a one night stand? You were the only one who kept after me, talking with me after and before class, telling me how I was disrespecting myself and how much more able I was than I thought and how I was better than I believed I was. But, you always said that I had to believe all that and have faith in myself, not you. So, here I am locked away in my room with tearing and mascara running down my eyes listening to you so I can hear myself. They’re happy tears. I’m telling not just you, but more importantly, me. I am starting to believe and have faith. I am no longer taking any shit from anyone else, especially me. I don’t care how lonely it gets. I am starting to choose from this moment on to know I am worth something valuable and to act like it, not to some guy and not to some ditzy friends, not to you, not even to people in my life who care about me. Most of all I am worth something to myself and it’s me who has to be proud of me. That is what counts. Yeah. That’s what really counts. Damn, I hate you for getting me finally to look at myself. Damn, I love you for doing that…..

     I share some of this message not to trumpet myself, but to tell you that our power as classroom leaders is greatest when we realize the huge opportunities that may lay in small opportunities present in each moment that are otherwise ignored and wasted, when we notice rather than ignore, when we labor to transform rather than overwhelm and nourish rather than starve and walk with rather than walk over and cultivate rather than weed out, when we have a strong sense of purpose to spotlight those potentially little-big opportunities, when we see how the small ways can make a large difference, and when global warming prevails defines classroom climate instead of an arctic chill. I’ll repeat something I told a colleague earlier: inspiration is far more powerful than intimidation; self-confidence, pride, enthusiasm reaps higher yields than insecurity, disbelief, and fear; aspiration will seldom occur in a hell hole of desperation; a smile is more powerful than a sneer; a tap of kindness will get you more than a slap of sarcasm; spotlighting strengths and talents is far more uplifting than focusing on weaknesses and shortcomings; fortifying a student’s self-worth will get better results than tearing down a student; and, caring is far more invigorating than not giving a damn.

      I have a quote from e. e. cummings over my computer that I gaze at every day as a reminder of my vision to be the person who is there to help a student help her/himself become the person she or he is capable of becoming: “We do not believe in ourselves until someone reveals that deep inside us is valuable, worth listening to, worthy of our trust, sacred to our touch. Once we believe in ourselves we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight or any experience that reveals the human spirit.” That is especially true for one so young, inexperienced, and especially powerless as a first year teenage student.

Louis

      Whom do we remember most from the days we were students? Who made the most difference in our lives? Who left the most indelible imprint on our soul? Really! Who? The brilliant lecturer? I doubt it. The great tester and grader? That I really doubt! The scholarship of renown scholar? You think? Or, do we always–always–remember most that teacher who truly cared about us as a sacred individual too valuable to let fall through the cracks, who noticed us, who understood us, who was patient with us, who tended to us, who believed in us when we didn’t, who supported us when we staggered, who uplifted us when we were low, who had faith in us when we faltered, who never gave up on us, who offered us hope, who enriched our lives when we felt poorly, who fired our spirit with such an intensity that the impurities of impossibilities were burned away, whose humanity touched our humanity? I had one such teacher, a history professor at Adelphi, Birdsal Viault. In the long run, I wouldn’t be where I am, and even who I am, if it weren’t for him.

      Don’t forget your Maya Angelou. She said, “People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” Oh, how right she is. We never forget our most supporting, encouraging, edifying, and inspiring teachers–or the ones who discouraged and humiliated us. Don’t ever forget that your passing words and small gestures can have a lifelong impact on students as those of your teachers had on you. We sometimes, too often, forget the depth of this impact unless we consciously reflect upon our own experiences as students and the memories we still carry of our teachers years later.

       So, I ask you, as each day I ask myself, “Do you use your own indelible school memories to guide your attitude toward students and what you do with your students?” “Do you inject into your attitude towards students and into what you do in the classroom those experiences you had with a teacher that enhanced your self-esteem, self-confidence, and motivation as a student?” “Are you sensitive to those unkind and negative experiences you had with a teacher and use your memory of them to be careful not to say or do things with your students that were hurtful to you when you were a student?”

        Education’s greatest need is for a lot more teachers who live rather than merely mouth their care for and faith in each student. Education’s greatest need is for a lot more heroic teachers. What do I mean by “heroic teachers?” Someone once said that the measure of a hero is not only in her or his achievements, but in the size of her or his heart. So, it is in academics. The measure of a “heroic teacher” is not only in the length of her or his resume, but in the size of her or his heart; not only in her or his dedication to her or his discipline, but to each and every student as well. The more each of us can focus on the wonders of each student, the less taste we have to weed them out. Don’t ever–ever–underestimate the staying power of a kindly attitude, a compassionate spirit, and an empathetic heart. They are the best teaching tools you have at your disposal. It’s at the heart of a true heartfelt teacher, for when a teacher puts her or his voice close to her or his heart, it’s hard for anyone not to listen.

Louis

      I fear I am about to get myself into trouble with a compendium to my latest reflection on what students need. It’s about what so many faculty need. Perhaps, desperately need. Why trouble? It’s because while so many of us academics are so quick to talk about students, we are so hesitant, to say the least, to talk about ourselves. Nevertheless, here goes.

       After a month, I still have a “Lily hangover.” I guess it’s because Lily-South was my first outing, since my cerebral hemorrahage, reminding me “gratio ergo sum,” that is–if my Latin is correct–loosely, “I am thankful, therefore I am.” That is, how grateful I am for each breath I still take. Anyway, being a Lily old timer, a professor e-mailed me asking, why I talk so much about the Lily conferences and what was the one thing that stands out most from my years of engaging in the national and regional Lily conferences on college and university teaching that makes them stand out. I’ve been pondering an answer for days. Actually, there are two things that stand out. The first is the creation of an uplifting and empowering environment for information, affirmation, education, and especially for edification that is the beauty of the Lily regional and main conferences. Over the years, they have done so much for me. Magically and miraculously, there’s no need for entry signs to read, “No egos allowed.” Uplifting is the name of one Lily game. Nourishment is the name of another Lily game. At these gatherings, you can see all around you, whether in formal sessions or schmoozing in the halls or talking around the meal tables, in the early morning and late into the night, the people offering positive support and encouragement for each other to engage themselves as strangers quickly become colleagues and friends.

       At Lily so many people feel it’s a safe place to let their guard down a bit, momentarily come out from behind their pretenses, and let their inner selfs briefly rise to the surface. So few of these often surprisingly open and honesty after-session, over-the-table conversations center around classroom teaching methods and techniques. And, those which did, were always peppered with such hesitating and even fearful utterances “Oh, I’d be scared to death to try that” or “I don’t have the confidence for that” or “Oh, I couldn’t do that” or “They wouldn’t let me” or “I don’t have tenure” or “I’m too shy” or “That’s not me” or “I have a family” or “I’d die” or “I don’t believe” or “Do you know that they would say?” All this brings me to the second thing about Lily. I had had a quick, few seconds exchange with Stewart Ross of Minnesota State at this past Lily-South conference during a plenary presentation by Ed Neal of UNC. I whispered to Stewart, “A lot of what he’s saying is so spiritual.”

      Stewart quickly replied, “Maybe people need spirituality to fill the vacuum.”

      I’ve been thinking ever since about that comment and some things said by Todd Zakrajsek of Central Michigan during his presentation on classroom apathy and motivation, as well as by Bill Johnson during his presentation on dreaming. It’s the heretical thought that we academics are just as human, just as fallible, just as suffering the sling and arrows of outrageous fortune, as the students. So many academics come to Lily looking for methods and techniques and technologies, and so many find, often to their amazement, that they want something more. They’re seeking something beyond themselves because they’re feeling forced to settle for something that is less than themselves as they get caught up in the trappings of assessment, accreditation, tenure, research, publication, promotion, and a host of other academic rites that give at best lip-service to classroom teaching. The “got to” chase for academic recognition and security seems to instill so little joy in so many of them. It’s like, as it is said in Ecclesiastes, chasing the wind. In conversation after conversation, people whispered, almost as if they were afraid others would hear them, that they have a “clone-ish” feeling, that they are losing that war e.e.cummings described against others who are fighting to make them into people those others want them to be.

      Empty and meaningless institutional mission statements aside, in often fearful resignation that embodied Thoreau”s “quiet desperation,” they sighed that they are void of an inner happiness and serenity, that they are being “forced” to compromise themselves, that they’re looking over their shoulder when they enter the classroom, that they really did not want or want to do what the academic tradition and values were dictating to them what to want and to do, that they really didn’t want to focus on what the academic world was spotlighting, that the quest for the demanded generic academic achievement of degrees, tenure, and promotion–and even mandatory scholarship–did not really bring very much lasting fulfillment, that in reality most institutions aren’t as open minded as their mission statements state and are too often inhospitable to those who challenge old ways of thinking and doing things, that the stress has made them impatient with students–and others, that the pursuit of those off-the-shelf achievements and recognitions left so many of them hopelessly frustrated and/or even fearful. There was a realization that standard definitions of academic accomplishment that satisfied recruitment committees, tenure and promotion committees, administrators, as well as accrediting agencies, were not truly all that personally satisfying.

      I have heard so many people say in so many words that even if they successfully had struggled academically to survive, they really didn’t know what they had survived for other than a guarantee of a job, a title, a salary level, a publication, a bit of reputation. So many people realized that though they may have acquired the means to live academically, they lacked a meaning to live for. In many ways, they are reflective of what was reported by PBS’ in its indicting “Declining By Degrees”: life without living, means without meaning, having while having not, being owned without owning. They forlornly revealed that inner vacuum they themselves had created by surrendering their selfs and their responsibility, often at the expense of students, with blaming accusation that the devilish “system made me do it.” And, perhaps worst of all, they sadly and haplessly had convinced themselves that they could not do anything about it.

      Vision! Difference! Integrity! Purpose! Meaning! That’s what so many who attend Lily, and those who don’t, find themselves looking for. They have a yearning for a clear personal vision, an almost desperate hunger for meaning, an inner burning desire to make a difference, a thirst for authenticity, and a search for a connection with a real, meaningful purpose that would yield joy, excitement, satisfaction, and fulfillment.

Louis

      I have been reading about 150 daily student journal entries for the past two months, through the anxiety, fatigue, elation, distraction, forgetfulness, fear, sadness, anticipation, sickness, and a host of other expressed up and down issues, one thing struck hard. It wasn’t a new revelation, but it really hit home. Maybe it was more graphic this semester because of a semester off from reading during my medical leave.

      Do you know what is fundamentally holding back most students? Lack of study skills? No. Lack of critical thinking skills? No. Lack of self-discipline? No. Lack of dedication? No. Lack of time management? No. No, though so many students display these deficiencies, they are symptomatic of a much deeper and inner lack. The one thing that most of them lack and is their greatest need is: self-confidence. They need it in their personal lives, in their academic lives, in their social lives, in their jobs. They need the belief in their power to deal with and overcome circumstances; they need it for a freedom from uncertainty; they need it to lift the burdens; they need it to deal with personal and academic crises; they need it to come out from the corner and the shadows; they need it to be authentic and honest; they need it to vanquish debilitating fear; they need it to overcome adversity; they need it to become their own person. They need it to convert challenges from barriers into opportunities. They need it to keep them from shriveling and sniveling deeper into the corner and into darker shadows. They need it to assume responsibility rather than hurling blame. They need it to imagine, create, innovate, and achieve. They need it to perceive problems, tackle problems, wrestle with problems, and solve them. They need it to believe in themselves, have faith in themselves, have hope for themselves, and love themselves.

      Without confidence, they are stoppable. Without confidence, they give control over themselves to others. Without confidence, there’s no hunger to explore, thirst for adventure, boldness to seize the moment, courage to make a mistake, daring to take risks, and reaching for the proverbial stars. Without confidence, they don’t aspire and perspire. Without confidence, discouragement and fear and ugliness rule the day. Without confidence, it’s easier to take the easy road than the right one. Without confidence, there’s no focus, no endurance, and no perseverance. Without confidence, a student cannot climb, build, dance, or sing.

     The essence of teaching, then, is to help students acquire an “I’m better than that” attitude that can convert “I am not” into “I am,” “I can’t” into “I can,” “I don’t” into “I do,” “don’t want to” into “I want to,” “I won’t” into “I will,” “it’s impossible” into “it’s possible,” “I hate” into “I love,” and “I don’t believe” into “I believe.” It is our mission to help them tap their inner power to look at themselves and things around them differently, to be whatever they want to be, and to become the persons they are capable of becoming.

     But, and it is a huge but, before we can offer such support, inspiration, aspiration, and encouragement to be big souled and big hearted, we have to do all that to and for ourselves.

Louis