When the Students are the Teachers

I drew the short straw today and won the right to take my youngest child back to college after a brief Thanksgiving Weekend visit. My daughter has the luxury of driving herself for her three hour return to academia. My son though, is still dependent on a parent to provide a little assistance. This time it was my turn.

I don't really mind the trips, to be honest, as it gives me a chance to have a three hour learning experience. For ninety minutes, we catch up, since we are stuck in close quarters. The return trip always provokes me to consider and weigh the conversation that occurred at the start. All tolled, I get 180 minutes of education each time I serve as the chauffeur.

I have been involved in education for all of my adult life. My son is pursuing a course that may lead to a teaching position. Naturally, I am humbled by the notion that he saw my profession as a worthy one, but I am more interested in following the course of his education as he 'discovers' things I like to think I have learned. I am not sure if that makes sense to non-educators, but I suspect that my fellow teachers will understand.

He tells me that he is concerned that he won't be a good teacher. I tell him, confidently, that he will be fine. After thirty years in the business, I think I have a pretty firm grasp on what differentiates the professional educator from the great teacher. You see, he gets it. His interest is in helping his prospective students to acquire skills and knowledge that supercede the curriculum.

He runs a few ideas by me, and I reinforce them. They are good ideas, but the more important feature to me is that he is thinking about how to be as much of a difference maker as possible. I know from expereince that some of his ideas won't work very weil, and that some of them will be superb. From a distance though, I can not forecast which ideas will fall into which category.

On the ride home, as I debrief myself, I mull over the range of topics that we addressed: his training for lacrosse, nutrition, his fall tuition balance, classroom management, lesson planning, curriculum management, students teaching students, philosophy, and sociology. He also considered and weighed in on my professional life, telling me I should pursue a doctorate and get a job teaching college students. No kidding.

The sociology-philosophy combination is what got the juices flowing for the ride home. I inserted a Bruce Springsteen CD, "Born to Run," I found while rummaging through the trunk; I let the music overrun the car and my brain goes on cruise control.

The young man left me with this tidbit as he grabbed his guitar, and a couple of other odds and ends out of the back seat and made his way to his room: "Humans are bent on self-destruction, I think." he says. History shows that the most stable and productive societies are always small ones. The bigger a society gets, the easier it becomes to fragment and destroy it. But the whole world seems bent on this globalization idea, even though it runs the risk of ruining the societies it serves. It will almost certainly undermine the larger society it creates." (Obviously, the quasi-quote is a paraphrase. I never let anyone talk that long without interruption, and I don't recall the statements verbatim.)

As I pulled into the driveway, I packaged a number of items together from our dialogue. If he pursues a teaching career, I am convinced that he has what it takes to be a great teacher. He sees the big picture first, and the little picture second - a requisite for great teachers. Also, his final volley is the best apology I can think of for organized religion, whatever denomination or faith is involved. Each congregation is its own small society. Whatever global faction the world forces us to join, that small society of a church, synagogue, or mosque provides the structure and stability that humans need to thrive. (I confess that this thought doesn't occur to me until about three hours after my return to home, and after casually watching Mitch Albom's "Have a Little Faith.")

My students and my own children have been teaching me things for years, but I think this particular drive and dialogue has been the most overt instance I have had for quite awhile. The boy had asked me during the discussion of his ideas on teaching, if his thought that he can use his stronger students as in-class tutors and supporters of his less motivated students. "Let students learn from other students," he says with a question behind it.

He is not there to hear my reply, but I answer him anyway: "The students are the best and most important teachers. Always."