I hope you all in the United States had a joyous Thanksgiving with your families. Susie and I sure did. We had a too brief family reunion as we traveled to Nashville where my son, Robby, the chef, and his family lives, and my other son and his family flew in from San Francisco. You might say we all had a “gorge-ous” holiday. Boy did we gorged ourselves on Robby’s culinary delights, first a multi-course banquet in his home and then the next evening an even larger feast at his restaurant. And, that doesn’t count the feeding frenzy over Susie’s cheesecake and my rugalach (a Jewish horned pastry), all of which sent all of us into a weekend-long caloric coma. Now I’m home and still groggy from a food OD.

Anyway, I went out onto the quiet streets this calm pre-dawn morning. I always find my language in such silence, and it was in this still that I was thinking about an old Sunday Morning segment on a “horse whisperer” that I had come across while surfing YouTube, and how what was discussed in the interview could well apply to the classroom. But, first. Do you know what a “horse whisperer is?” Well, the term goes back to a 19th century Irish horse trainer who had developed a knack for rehabilitating abused or traumatized horses. He would stand face to face with the troubled horse. People at the time thought that it was mysterious, that he was capable of speaking “horse talk” as he whispered into the horses’ ears, that the horses could understand him–and trust him, and that they were quickly calmed by his magical techniques. But, there was nothing mysterious and magical about what he did. What he really did was have a tender regard, be empathetic to the motives, needs, and desires of the horse. He got to know the horse, not guess or assume or presume or stereotype or generalize, but know that particular horse. He would seek out, find, and see that something beautiful that was to be found in that frightened, aggressive, and uncooperative horse. Sometimes it was obvious and overpowering, and other times it was subtle and delicate, and still other times it was totally hidden. But, it always took a lot of quiet and reassuring love, faith, commitment, and perseverance to uncover it and for the horse to feel it. He was posing no danger or harm, calming both his and the animal’s thoughts, simply being, feeling the power he and the horse were, softly touching and caressing that animal, feeling the strength and passion, enjoying, refreshing, living.

In the spirit of the Horse Whisper, we should be “student whisperers.” We should see each student as we do a magnificent dawn, feeling our pounding hearts and heaving lungs are too big to be caged in by our ribs. Teaching is a love story, a story demonstrated in unconditional caring, empathy, sympathy, and encouragement. All of whom are a potent serum in the fight against the prevalent academic disease of busyness and disinterest. It’s letting students see and know that you understand their feelings and thoughts. It’s personal interaction; it takes effort; it takes energy;it takes time. Yet, it is love, with its companions of faith, hope, and belief, that makes the classroom non-judgmental, non-industrialized, non-standardized. It is love that makes the classroom highly personalized. It humanizes. It individualizes. It has a reverence for each student. It energizes empathy. Student whispers walk the avenue of the heart and invite each student into their hearts.

What you think of life in that classroom plays an essential role in what you do in that classroom with each student. As a “student Whisperer,” you reshape the classroom with the gentleness of a far less frenetic inner quiet, a quiet of being mindful and attentive, a quiet that allows us to bend rather than snap, knowing that most guidance, as Leo Buscaglia would say, can be dispensed with a light touch, a soft encouraging word, a slight smile, and lots of respect and real love for the person on the receiving end. In Galatians 5:22 it is called “the fruit of the spirit.” I call it walking the street of my heart to take each student inside my heart. As a “student whisperer” you accept that your job is to compassionately nurture each student without asking whether they are worthy or have earned it, not to heavily weed out.

Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, forbearance. Those nine virtues say that we are in awe of each student, that we honor each, that we respect each, that we treat each as someone who is invaluable. That “fruit of the spirit” is at the ethical core of my “Teacher’s Oath;” it is being “student struck;” it is knowing that no one in that class is plain or ordinary or worthless or without potential; it is knowing that those in the classroom are rich beyond anything we can imagine; and, that in the classroom there are chances to do amazing things. It is the purpose of everything I feel and do; it is my love of each student; it is a commitment to help others. It is the loving, supporting, encouraging touch, word, smile that reminds us each of them that she or he is not alone, and there is hope.

Think that’s soft, touchy-feely, weak? I say that to be gentle is to be strong and courageous; I say that to be unfeeling is to be weak and fearful. Think back. Think back to a time in your life when, as the Lotus Sutra said, someone entered your life wearing “the robe of gentleness and forbearance.” Think back to the moment in your life when someone courageously took a chance on you making you feel you were worth it. Think of how some “fruit” vividly and robustly shines out in your memory of a time when you needed bracing against the storm. Think how potent it was. My whisperer was Birdsault Viault at Adelphi College in late 1959 who saw something shimmering below the surface when no one else did, reached out to me, helped me start believing, helped me to begin rewriting the lyrics of my sorrowful song, helped me to begin leaning into the light with him, and helped me to start turning my life around. Think that’s fluffy? No! That’s powerful power!

Be a “Loud” student whisperer. Put in the time and effort. Celebrate and, more importantly, live the uniqueness, sacredness, nobility, and worth that is each student. Be truly moved by the awesome wonder of each of them. Don’t let them go unnoticed and ignored as “cellophane people.” Don’t reject any as “don’t belongs.” Have an unconditional–unconditional–appreciative, loving, thankful, kind, empathetic, supporting, safe, encouraging, and calming heart. It sure beats thinking we’re jolting bronco busters who break the rough-stock, feral, recalcitrant students into submission.

As “Student Whisperers” we should work with, rather than against, each student; we should love those we see, for all we have to do is to find little bit of beauty, develop our powers of empathy, and we open ourselves up to finding more in both ourselves and others. In the spirit of Ed Deci, Carol Dweck, Daniel Goleman, Richard Boyatzis, Howard Gardner, Peter Senge, Peter Vail, Teresa Amabile, Barbara Fredrickson, and a host of others, we should nurture self-esteem and confidence, faith and hope, autonomy and ownership, creativity and imagination, curiosity, optimism, and resiliency; we should understand and appreciate each student’s strengths and abilities, and utilize them to help the student help her/himself develop emotional, behavioral and intellectual abilities to both live the good life and make a good living; we should help them find a sense meaning and purpose; and we should help them help themselves become the person each is capable of becoming.
Louis