Big River: Until You've Been There

Until You've Been There
     


      A great teacher never strives
      to explain his vision...
      He simply invites you
      to stand beside him 
      and see for yourself.
     
                Reverend E. Inman



A master makes his art look like a simple thing to do.  
A natural thing for a person to do.  To fly through the air 
with the greatest of ease.  My wife is an aerial dancer.  
She can slither onto and out of her low-flying trapeze 
truly with what looks like the "greatest of ease."  
When I try to lift myself onto the trapeze it quivers 
and shakes and I have heart palpitations, not to mention 
severe muscle strain.  

Our friend, Ray, is an auto mechanic who can diagnose 
the smallest of mystery noises right down to the cracked 
piston ring or leaky valve cover what-cha-ma-call-it.  
He even has a stethoscope he uses for low-tech readings and, 
of course, the latest computer hookups for high-tech 
scanning of emissions and for other crucial projects 
far beyond my limited scope.
 
Our friend, Victor, is a miracle man without whom 
our 85-year-old house would be totally unlivable.  
Victor can fix anything and on an old house nothing 
is a standard fit.  He can alleviate my feelings of 
helplessness over leaky pipes, heaters that go out, 
renters who bust their stove so that gas is fizzing 
into the air.  He can lay out concrete patios and 
replace windows ... and nothing is standard size. 

"You skunk!" Victor grimaces as he tears out old pipe.  
He may get frustrated and work up a sweat, but what he 
does looks easy compared to my trying to replace some 
mysterious pipe under the rotten floor of the bath or 
trying to kill off roots in the sewer line.

Masters exist.  You can find them in any workplace 
anywhere in the world.  If you ask them about their 
work they may not be able to explain just why it is 
that something they are doing works, but they will 
always have time to talk with you, to teach you what 
you are willing to learn about their craft.  

They might not always get the credit for being a 
true master at their job or chosen profession.  
A master allows himself to blend in with the crowd 
and work quietly alongside his pupils/disciples.  
There are many ways a master works and many ways 
a master teaches his followers, but the main proponent 
lies simply in his way of being.  

He may fully use the resources available to him, 
be they books, computers, even the knowledge of 
other masters, but there is an inherent core of 
knowledge, confidence and intuition combined with 
an ability or capacity to ironically absorb himself 
fully with the task at hand while at the same time 
remaining at a distance from his task . 

This is a subtle thing, this distance.  It allows 
room for the master to hear an observer's comments 
about the master's work, his task or his pupils 
without a great deal of personal attachment.  
It is OK for a master to make a mistake, to admit 
to not knowing the answer, to even admit defeat.  

As a homeowner, I appreciate it when Victor, 
for example, tells me he isn't able to take on a 
project but that he knows someone else who can do it.  
This relieves much disappointment and delay or even 
irreparable damage to the home where I live.  
Ditto the car mechanic advising me he doesn't 
do electrical work but that so and so does.  
And my wife, the air dancer, well to say 
that she rehearses a lot is a major understatement.  
She takes risks, yes, but she does not leap right 
into something without many rehearsals of each 
step that leads her into that "big leap."        

I must gladly learn as I must gladly teach.
 
Thus spoke Geoffrey Chaucer's lowly Oxford Cleric 
(the student) in the Canterbury Tales. These simple 
words hold a lot of weight and substance for me. 
Indeed, they have become a motto for what my own 
role as teacher is all about.  Teaching is not 
simply a job one does.  Yes, it is like the Navy, 
not a job but rather an adventure.  

It is a whole way of life.  Teaching is not an 8 to 3 
sort of job or a 6.5 hours a day gig.  It is a life 
profession in which one isconstantly learning 
listening as well as helping others to do the same.

When I arrive home to our block of the world and 
children run up the sidewalk to greet me and to say, 
"Hey, look at this bike trick I learned today!" 
they are running up for the approval of a teacher. 
They are needing and wanting time and attention.  
When I am at WalMart and an older woman asks me to 
hand her the box of detergent that's high up on a 
shelf or a man asks me which is the best floor stain 
to buy , I am responding to them as a teacher.

In my life I long ago made peace with the idea 
that I am a "poet". In today's world this is a 
dubious title at best. I even wrote a poem about 
being a poet . The poem is a short one it goes...
                    
                   Poets

              Poets are nuts!
              shells : broken, scattered.
              Hard to crack, 
              they beg to be peeled.

To me a poet is a keen observer who is empathetic, 
who can put himself into the shoes of another 
and write about the sensations felt in that unique 
place. One who can encapsulate and portray one 
complete moment in  all of its glory, tragedy or 
poignancy.  

A poet is aware of the seasons, the weather, 
human imperfection and the beauty of miracles.  
A poet is also prone to burnout, alcoholism, 
drug abuse, etc. and frequently has known many 
levels of intensity in his past.  

Many of these same qualities are to be found 
in the true master teacher.The masster is ever 
alert to the questions of his students. Always 
willing to answer as best he can. Always willing 
to say the magic words : I don't know. Not always 
content to hit his students with a concrete and 
inflexible lesson plan tossed out six periods a 
day ad infinitum. Not always the man in charge 
yelling at his charges if you don't like it here, 
go elsewhere. 

This is my classroom love it or leave it. 
Silly as that sounds, those words are all too 
common an occurance in today's classrooms and 
we wonder why drop out rates soar. Duh!

Teachers are not machines. And that fact is the one 
wonderful weakness that separates them from computers.
Teachers are called to interact with their students.
Teachers from our own memories are always the ones 
who impacted us either in a positive way or a 
negative one and in order to have made that impact 
they must have in some way developed a human 
relationship with us . 

Mirrored for us one of our own gifts or weaknesses.
Treated us a fellow humans on a planet where we all 
must live. Perhaps set our boundaries , gave us 
direction or, if they are remebered for their 
negative aspects, then they perhaps set up a picture 
for us of gross unfairness or delighted in showing us 
our own failings as succesful human beings. Laughed at 
us and saw in us their own failings.

When you go to a party on the weekend and there 
is a person or a couple there you really want to avoid, 
often it is that very person or pair of people who in 
fact have the most to teach you aboput yourself. 
Unfortunately those people might cause you discomfort 
and the willingness to risk being hurt by them is an 
inherant risk we must take before diving off that high 
board into self realization. 

And truly for me the key role of all teachers
is to be found in just that...allowing a student
or mentor or neighbor or colleague a bit of 
self-realization. Many would argue that the 
definition of an Isosceles Triangle or a dangling 
participle is far more important than a 'bit of 
self-realization' and they would be entitled to 
that opinion. I would argue that they themselves 
are perhaps not as self-aware as they might be.

There is inherent richness and wealth to be found 
in self-realization but we are taught at an early 
age only to compare ourselves with those super models 
with slim figures and 'LA tans'. To wish could be 
'more like Mike', to drive the fast cars and 
become mortgaged out to capitalistic nuance 
of mirroring the Jones'. It doesn't cost anything to 
become just a bit more self-aware. 

Inner beauty, inner knowledge, inner peace, inner 
wealth ...none of these things in fact can be bought. 
And for today's students rarely do they apppear in 
the form of ACT/SAT questions. Self-awareness is not 
an obviuos part of the English Advanced Placement test. 
It is hardly able to be scored on computer sheets. 
It is however an integral and perhaps the most important 
underlying element of 'all of the above'.



I quit my first official teaching job in 1981, 
in a move that took up less than ten minutes of 
my headmaster's time.  He had seen it coming, of course.  
I had complained about my job for years on end. 

Whine, whine, whine.  Blame, blame, blame.  
Drink coffee all day; beer all night.  I had lived 
so unhealthily when not in the classroom that I was 
struck with a severe and angry case of gout at a 
relatively early age.  

The pain reminded me so much of having my feet 
stepped on.  Ouch!  A full blown gout attack 
is an immensely painful thing.  Raising one's 
feet up on the bed, hot towels, heating pads, 
ice -- nothing works to ease the intense, steady 
pain of an attack.  One can get out of bed and 
stick one's foot in the sink for seconds of relief 
or plain distraction.  And oddly without 
explanation the pain is worst of all at night.  
I was so angry with my life as a teacher at that 
point that I had in effect crippled myself.

I didn't want to be a teacher, I told myself over 
and over.  I wanted to be a writer.  I wanted fame, 
recognition, affection, honor. I didn't realize 
I had all of those things but under the label "teacher." 

Fame, recognition, affection, honor -- it's all there.  
Your label doesn't matter:  doctor, teacher, lawyer, 
naval aviator, public relations.  All there but for 
you to see it.  To accept those things into your life 
requires the skills of the master.  

I was no master then.  An apprentice maybe, a kid 
running from the critic always at his shoulder, 
but a master ... a master I was not.

  ©2000
Jeff Hartzer

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