I have never been involved in the seismic shift that is a true social movement. Although I was born and grew up when this particular country was facing Viet Nam and civil rights. The world has changed a great deal in a relatively small period of time. My great-grandmother was seven years old when her Alabama family had to release the slaves that they had owned for generations. But I have been part of the type of social movement that is school change and reform. Though I have experienced change at all levels (from personal to institutional)and it seems that the one common factor of all change, is how difficult it is! Palmer is, I believe correct, when he suggests that when more and more people chose to lead an undivided life (or a life of faith!) there is an impact over time on the social and political fabric of institutions. But I agree even more with the notion that at first, the decision to live the undivided life, is a "frail reed" (Palmer, 2007, p.178).
I've come to believe that self-doubt and the anxiety that accompanies self-doubt is a great "de-railer" of change. When it strikes, we default back into the patterns we've always known, mostly because what is known is most comforting to us. I've seen how this impacts institutional change and I've run head on into it as the leader of a school. And I understand it - because I experience the same self-doubt that those who I'm trying to lead feel!
Finally, I really like Palmer's notions for educating new professionals. I find the five "proposals" a great direction to take.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Learning in Community
It has struck me several times that Palmer is reflecting on college teaching and I'm reminded of that again on page 147 when he describes the usual format of teacher evaluations. That's not the usual format for evaluating K-12 faculty and then again, tenure has a completely different connotation in K-12 education than it does in higher education. Tenure in higher ed is, I believe,a great stumbling block to the kind of community that Palmer envisions and to the accountability that is necessary to create that type of community.
I like a great deal of what Palmer has to say about leadership especially on page 164 when he states: "Leadership in the academy means looking behind the masks we wear and perceiving our true condition." He goes on to point out that leaders often are called to see in teachers more than they might see in themselves. It strikes me, from a few years of practice, that this is dead on. People get stuck in routine, they are distracted by the rest of their lives, they coast in those last few years before retirement with the hope they can land the plane running only on fumes. But the leader has to stir the tanks so to speak, to help that person find the drive to make their last year as good as their first.
When I became principal I needed someone to teach an AP government class. We had only one choice at that time - a 35 year veteran of teaching the lower track kids. John had not had a new thought or practice in 25 years relative to his subject and he was coasting on to the finish line. My VP told me he'd never agree, or at least not easily agree, to changing things and then there was the worry if he'd actually be good at it. I told him all the reasons he'd be great at it (much of that was fiction since I didn't really know him yet at all!). I felt a bit like a used car salesmen and in way I knew I might have to sell the used car to the parents!
It turned out that John rose to the occasion. He found his second wind in teaching and really was spectacular. He looked tired at the end of each day but he seemed happy about being reengaged in what I think really gives him joy.
There's one success story - if you have a lot of time I'd be happy to share a dozen or so of my failures as a leader!
In so many ways I think we suffer from a lack of the types of leaders that can bring us out of ourselves and into a new way of being. To move forward with the type of community of which Palmer writes and of which the Christian message compels us to seek, we need to move beyond what seems to me to be a crisis of leadership.
I like a great deal of what Palmer has to say about leadership especially on page 164 when he states: "Leadership in the academy means looking behind the masks we wear and perceiving our true condition." He goes on to point out that leaders often are called to see in teachers more than they might see in themselves. It strikes me, from a few years of practice, that this is dead on. People get stuck in routine, they are distracted by the rest of their lives, they coast in those last few years before retirement with the hope they can land the plane running only on fumes. But the leader has to stir the tanks so to speak, to help that person find the drive to make their last year as good as their first.
When I became principal I needed someone to teach an AP government class. We had only one choice at that time - a 35 year veteran of teaching the lower track kids. John had not had a new thought or practice in 25 years relative to his subject and he was coasting on to the finish line. My VP told me he'd never agree, or at least not easily agree, to changing things and then there was the worry if he'd actually be good at it. I told him all the reasons he'd be great at it (much of that was fiction since I didn't really know him yet at all!). I felt a bit like a used car salesmen and in way I knew I might have to sell the used car to the parents!
It turned out that John rose to the occasion. He found his second wind in teaching and really was spectacular. He looked tired at the end of each day but he seemed happy about being reengaged in what I think really gives him joy.
There's one success story - if you have a lot of time I'd be happy to share a dozen or so of my failures as a leader!
In so many ways I think we suffer from a lack of the types of leaders that can bring us out of ourselves and into a new way of being. To move forward with the type of community of which Palmer writes and of which the Christian message compels us to seek, we need to move beyond what seems to me to be a crisis of leadership.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Palmer V
Good teachers replicate the process of knowing by engaging students in the dynamics of the community of truth. (Palmer, 2007, p.117)”
Boy, Palmer is on to something here but it’s elusive. I know I’ve been part of it, not sure that I’ve ever achieved it in the classroom myself (though I hope I have). Throughout this book I keep coming back to an idea, not an original idea of mine, but one certainly within the Christian communities understanding of vocation. It’s fine to feel called to something, to claim that I have a vocation to be a teacher, or a priest, or a married person. But a vocation must be confirmed, much in the way that the authority of the Church confirms a person’s call by God in the Sacrament of Holy Orders. The call must be confirmed by evidence of ability, talent, giftedness for the endeavor. In modern society I simply sign up for a course of study, take the classes, do some field work and be evaluated in a rather artificial and superficial way. That’s the only confirmation we get in the profession of teaching. Well, as a student, teacher myself and principal, I can bear witness to the fact that some who might have felt called, don’t have the talent needed. I’ve witnessed that in every line of work, profession and vocation, and it makes me sad – because it tends to make everyone around the person sad!
"True community in any context requires a transcendent third thing that holds both me and three accountable to something outside ourselves, a fact well known outside of education. (Palmer, 2007, p. 119)”
Palmer in this quote is onto the unique contribution that I believe Catholic education makes to the field of education. We start with the transcendent. We begin with Jesus in the middle of it all, transcending the limitations of this life, and leading us to the transcendent love of God the Father. Christianity can, sometimes become, the default mode in Catholic education, what we fall back on in times of trouble or disagreement. But truly mission driven schools start every project, conversation, endeavor, with God at the center. The goal of the mission is to make good citizens ultimately of heaven – a transcendent place indeed. This is the great grace, and the greatest challenge, for Catholic education.
“In a subject-centered classroom, the teacher’s task is to give the great thing an independent voice – capacity to speak its truth quite apart from the teacher’s voice in terms that student can hear and understand. (Palmer, 2007, p.120)”
This takes great courage, self-control, comfort with ambiguity and I do think it’s easier in some courses than others. I think this is probably essential in Religious education in today’s context. Something worthy of more exploration and perhaps class discussion.
“The community of truth demands continual discernment: some observations are accurate and some are not; some claims of fact are valid and others are not; some hypotheses are warranted and others are not. (Palmer, 2007, p.141)”
This goes back to my earlier point and is applicable to the notion that the community should discern together about many things!
Boy, Palmer is on to something here but it’s elusive. I know I’ve been part of it, not sure that I’ve ever achieved it in the classroom myself (though I hope I have). Throughout this book I keep coming back to an idea, not an original idea of mine, but one certainly within the Christian communities understanding of vocation. It’s fine to feel called to something, to claim that I have a vocation to be a teacher, or a priest, or a married person. But a vocation must be confirmed, much in the way that the authority of the Church confirms a person’s call by God in the Sacrament of Holy Orders. The call must be confirmed by evidence of ability, talent, giftedness for the endeavor. In modern society I simply sign up for a course of study, take the classes, do some field work and be evaluated in a rather artificial and superficial way. That’s the only confirmation we get in the profession of teaching. Well, as a student, teacher myself and principal, I can bear witness to the fact that some who might have felt called, don’t have the talent needed. I’ve witnessed that in every line of work, profession and vocation, and it makes me sad – because it tends to make everyone around the person sad!
"True community in any context requires a transcendent third thing that holds both me and three accountable to something outside ourselves, a fact well known outside of education. (Palmer, 2007, p. 119)”
Palmer in this quote is onto the unique contribution that I believe Catholic education makes to the field of education. We start with the transcendent. We begin with Jesus in the middle of it all, transcending the limitations of this life, and leading us to the transcendent love of God the Father. Christianity can, sometimes become, the default mode in Catholic education, what we fall back on in times of trouble or disagreement. But truly mission driven schools start every project, conversation, endeavor, with God at the center. The goal of the mission is to make good citizens ultimately of heaven – a transcendent place indeed. This is the great grace, and the greatest challenge, for Catholic education.
“In a subject-centered classroom, the teacher’s task is to give the great thing an independent voice – capacity to speak its truth quite apart from the teacher’s voice in terms that student can hear and understand. (Palmer, 2007, p.120)”
This takes great courage, self-control, comfort with ambiguity and I do think it’s easier in some courses than others. I think this is probably essential in Religious education in today’s context. Something worthy of more exploration and perhaps class discussion.
“The community of truth demands continual discernment: some observations are accurate and some are not; some claims of fact are valid and others are not; some hypotheses are warranted and others are not. (Palmer, 2007, p.141)”
This goes back to my earlier point and is applicable to the notion that the community should discern together about many things!
Monday, October 26, 2009
Knowing in Community
I really liked this chapter. I liked Palmer’s focus, his critiques and his vision for community. A few thoughts…
“The therapeutic is the model most often implied when we use the word community (Palmer, 2007, p.92). Oh how this is especially true when we speak of community in the Christian context. My experience of many ministerial contexts, particularly those for the purpose of forming ministers (like M.Div. programs and seminaries) have all too often fallen completely into this model. I’ve experienced this as well within the context of Catholic schools, diocesan offices of education and in parishes. I do not believe it is humanly possible to form the level of intimacy that is required by the therapeutic model with the large number of people involved in schools, communities or parishes.
“This model makes intimacy the highest value in human relationships, because intimacy is regarded as the best therapy for the pain of disconnection (Palmer, 2007, p. 92).” There is no denying that Christian community should support the healing of individuals, but as Palmer points out, if community is equated with intimacy, our openness to so many encounters with the stranger may very well be closed off. I find such therapeutic communities to be rather self-focused, with the greatest value being the sustaining of the group and its heightened sense of intimacy. If we intend to turn a classroom of 25 young people, or a school community of 900, into a therapeutic community, we are destined to fall short of the mission of education and, I believe, the mission that is specifically Catholic. There are, no doubt, therapeutic components of what we do, but I support Palmer’s critique of the therapeutic vision of education. Such realties often devolve into the most relativistic of experiences.
“Openness to transcendence is what distinguishes the community of truth from both absolutism and relativism (Palmer, 2007, p.109).” This resonates with me and what I believe is a Catholic vision of education. While Palmer does not speak of transcendence in the context of faith, I take his words as resonating with the core values of Catholicism. As Palmer stated in an earlier section of this chapter, “I know of no field, from science to religion, where what we regard as objective knowledge did not emerge from long and complex communal discourse that continues to this day, no field where the facts of the matter were delivered fully formed from on high (Palmer, 2007, p. 107).” How many councils of the Church have there been? (21) When was the nature of Christ settled upon? (451 for Catholics) My point is this; we believe that revelation is on-going and that it is most often for us, communal. To see education as a community of truth is really very Catholic (if one can qualify the word!). We seek the truth in light!
“The therapeutic is the model most often implied when we use the word community (Palmer, 2007, p.92). Oh how this is especially true when we speak of community in the Christian context. My experience of many ministerial contexts, particularly those for the purpose of forming ministers (like M.Div. programs and seminaries) have all too often fallen completely into this model. I’ve experienced this as well within the context of Catholic schools, diocesan offices of education and in parishes. I do not believe it is humanly possible to form the level of intimacy that is required by the therapeutic model with the large number of people involved in schools, communities or parishes.
“This model makes intimacy the highest value in human relationships, because intimacy is regarded as the best therapy for the pain of disconnection (Palmer, 2007, p. 92).” There is no denying that Christian community should support the healing of individuals, but as Palmer points out, if community is equated with intimacy, our openness to so many encounters with the stranger may very well be closed off. I find such therapeutic communities to be rather self-focused, with the greatest value being the sustaining of the group and its heightened sense of intimacy. If we intend to turn a classroom of 25 young people, or a school community of 900, into a therapeutic community, we are destined to fall short of the mission of education and, I believe, the mission that is specifically Catholic. There are, no doubt, therapeutic components of what we do, but I support Palmer’s critique of the therapeutic vision of education. Such realties often devolve into the most relativistic of experiences.
“Openness to transcendence is what distinguishes the community of truth from both absolutism and relativism (Palmer, 2007, p.109).” This resonates with me and what I believe is a Catholic vision of education. While Palmer does not speak of transcendence in the context of faith, I take his words as resonating with the core values of Catholicism. As Palmer stated in an earlier section of this chapter, “I know of no field, from science to religion, where what we regard as objective knowledge did not emerge from long and complex communal discourse that continues to this day, no field where the facts of the matter were delivered fully formed from on high (Palmer, 2007, p. 107).” How many councils of the Church have there been? (21) When was the nature of Christ settled upon? (451 for Catholics) My point is this; we believe that revelation is on-going and that it is most often for us, communal. To see education as a community of truth is really very Catholic (if one can qualify the word!). We seek the truth in light!
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Paradoxical Thinking
"Paradoxical thinking requires that we embrace a view of the world in which opposites are joined, so that we can see the world clearly and see it whole. Such a view is characterized by neither flinty-eyed realisim nor dewy-eyed romanticism but rather by a creative synthesis of the two (Palmer, 2007, p.69)."
I never thought I'd become one of those people who say over and over again, "when I was younger.." Well, here I am at middle age! I entered Religious life right after college - filled with idealism. Those early years of formation I was only in my early 20's. I was well educated but a great deal of life experience I lacked. I was often resistant to what I perceived as my community's lack of zeal, of prophetic voice and action on so many things. To say the least, I was very much a this or that kind of thinker.
Not to say that I was wrong about my community's lack of bold actions, but my views were not any more correct or proper. I was seeing the world in parts, not completely understanding the complexities of the interconnectedness of peoples and institutions. I lacked experience and emotional intelligence. Much of what Palmer suggests comes with age and experience, and of course, the openness of which Palmer writes and seemingly lives his own life. In looking back at those early days of my Religious life, or simply of my earlier life, those who wished simply to tell me I was wrong, or limited, or misguided - well, they were dismissed by me (even though they were right.
But those who found a way to do what Palmer suggests in his secion "Paradox and Pedagogical Design," they kept my attention and I look back at them now as the great heroes of my life. They realized my youth and inexperience, they say potential and they found a way to help me to see the world as less a bunch of parts and more the whole that it is.
I can't help but see Palmer's design as, well, rather Catholic. It reminds me of the Church.
1. The Space should be bounded and open. The designers of any of the great cathedrals of Europe sought to capture the boundedness of this earthly life by the walls of the church, while reminding of the openness of the transcendent by the towering hight of the vault.
2. The space would be hospitable and "charged." Sound like great liturgy to me!
3. The space should invite the voice of the individual and the voice of the group. We stand as individuals before God, and as members of the Body of Christ.
4. The space should honor the little stories of the students and the big stories of the disciplines and traditions. Look at the stained glass windows, pick up the Lives of the Saints.
5. The space should support solitude and surround it with the resources of the community. Get to Mass early, stay afterwards but watch what happens when we worship well together.
6. The space should welcome both silence and speech. Again, the rhythms of liturgy.
Palmer's on to something spectacular and much of it should be easily incorporated for those who call themselves Catholic educators. We do it naturally (I hope!)
I never thought I'd become one of those people who say over and over again, "when I was younger.." Well, here I am at middle age! I entered Religious life right after college - filled with idealism. Those early years of formation I was only in my early 20's. I was well educated but a great deal of life experience I lacked. I was often resistant to what I perceived as my community's lack of zeal, of prophetic voice and action on so many things. To say the least, I was very much a this or that kind of thinker.
Not to say that I was wrong about my community's lack of bold actions, but my views were not any more correct or proper. I was seeing the world in parts, not completely understanding the complexities of the interconnectedness of peoples and institutions. I lacked experience and emotional intelligence. Much of what Palmer suggests comes with age and experience, and of course, the openness of which Palmer writes and seemingly lives his own life. In looking back at those early days of my Religious life, or simply of my earlier life, those who wished simply to tell me I was wrong, or limited, or misguided - well, they were dismissed by me (even though they were right.
But those who found a way to do what Palmer suggests in his secion "Paradox and Pedagogical Design," they kept my attention and I look back at them now as the great heroes of my life. They realized my youth and inexperience, they say potential and they found a way to help me to see the world as less a bunch of parts and more the whole that it is.
I can't help but see Palmer's design as, well, rather Catholic. It reminds me of the Church.
1. The Space should be bounded and open. The designers of any of the great cathedrals of Europe sought to capture the boundedness of this earthly life by the walls of the church, while reminding of the openness of the transcendent by the towering hight of the vault.
2. The space would be hospitable and "charged." Sound like great liturgy to me!
3. The space should invite the voice of the individual and the voice of the group. We stand as individuals before God, and as members of the Body of Christ.
4. The space should honor the little stories of the students and the big stories of the disciplines and traditions. Look at the stained glass windows, pick up the Lives of the Saints.
5. The space should support solitude and surround it with the resources of the community. Get to Mass early, stay afterwards but watch what happens when we worship well together.
6. The space should welcome both silence and speech. Again, the rhythms of liturgy.
Palmer's on to something spectacular and much of it should be easily incorporated for those who call themselves Catholic educators. We do it naturally (I hope!)
Monday, October 12, 2009
Fear
"Educational institutions are full of divisive structures, of course, but blaming them for our brokenness perpetuates the myth that the outer work is more powerful than the inner. The external structures of education would not have the power to divide us as deeply as they do if they were not rooted in one of the most compelling features of our inner landscape -- fear (Palmer, 2007, p.36)"
Institutions can push our buttons and they seem to push the fear button so very well. Palmer strikes at something that is so basic and human. Fear takes so many forms in our experience from outright terror to the more subtle insecurities that plaque most of our lives (at least in my life!). It's often easy to blame institutions for why we don't connect more and better to one another. I've been on both sides of institution bashing and blaming. "The Church is so dysfunctional!" "She's the worst principal!" "The kids here just don't want to learn!" "The parents really run this place!" It's so easy to blame something outside of ourselves for the way things are. I've been there. I've done that.
They first day I was in charge of 900 kids, 65 faculty and God knows how many coaches, fear entered my heart in a new way. Or maybe it didn't enter my heart in a new way, I just felt it stir in a new way. I could have blamed my predecessor, or the Superintendent, but day in and day out, I was actually where the buck did stop. Around that same time I was elected to the leadership of my community. My God, now I was "them!" The them I use to blame for my unhappiness or restlessness. It's often about perspective! But I do agree with Palmer, fear is all too often the default mode of administration and used when we simply don't know what else to do. But it only works if there is actually fear to be tapped into.
I wasn't sure exactly what Palmer was getting at when he spoke of how we subscribe to "religions of fear who exploit our dread of death and damnation (Palmer, 2007, p.39). He must speaking of something other than Catholicism! I realize that religion, including Catholicism, has throughout history used fear as a motivator but religion, especially Christianity, and in particular Catholicism in its purest form, is a powerful force for hope - that which is the opposite of fear.
The Bible is filled with stories of angels appearing and telling us to no be afraid. Jesus himself, throughout the Gospels, tries to convince us to not fear but to feel the love of God the Father. True religion frees us from fear!
Institutions can push our buttons and they seem to push the fear button so very well. Palmer strikes at something that is so basic and human. Fear takes so many forms in our experience from outright terror to the more subtle insecurities that plaque most of our lives (at least in my life!). It's often easy to blame institutions for why we don't connect more and better to one another. I've been on both sides of institution bashing and blaming. "The Church is so dysfunctional!" "She's the worst principal!" "The kids here just don't want to learn!" "The parents really run this place!" It's so easy to blame something outside of ourselves for the way things are. I've been there. I've done that.
They first day I was in charge of 900 kids, 65 faculty and God knows how many coaches, fear entered my heart in a new way. Or maybe it didn't enter my heart in a new way, I just felt it stir in a new way. I could have blamed my predecessor, or the Superintendent, but day in and day out, I was actually where the buck did stop. Around that same time I was elected to the leadership of my community. My God, now I was "them!" The them I use to blame for my unhappiness or restlessness. It's often about perspective! But I do agree with Palmer, fear is all too often the default mode of administration and used when we simply don't know what else to do. But it only works if there is actually fear to be tapped into.
I wasn't sure exactly what Palmer was getting at when he spoke of how we subscribe to "religions of fear who exploit our dread of death and damnation (Palmer, 2007, p.39). He must speaking of something other than Catholicism! I realize that religion, including Catholicism, has throughout history used fear as a motivator but religion, especially Christianity, and in particular Catholicism in its purest form, is a powerful force for hope - that which is the opposite of fear.
The Bible is filled with stories of angels appearing and telling us to no be afraid. Jesus himself, throughout the Gospels, tries to convince us to not fear but to feel the love of God the Father. True religion frees us from fear!
Monday, October 5, 2009
Palmer: Heart of the Teacher
"...good teachers share one trait: a strong sense of personal identity infuses their work (Palmer, 2007, p.11).
Insert any profession where Palmer has the word teachers. Good doctors, priests, principals, plumbers, sales people - there is no substitution for a strong sense of who we are as individuals. I had an extraordinary conversation about a month ago with a ticket agent for Jet Blue. You just had a sense the woman new herself, accepted herself and was more open to the world because of it. Even just the desire to develop a strong sense of self is such a sign of health to me and that desire always involves a high degree of knowing that who I am today is not who I will be (or even should be) in five years. If I'm a person of faith today, five years from know I may say the same thing, but it's meaning, it's impact on my identity will be new, fresh, perhaps even resurrecting!
"Good teachers possess a capacity for connectedness (Palmer, 2007, p.11)."
Yes! My reflection here is a bit of a rant. I'm facinated, and very frustrated, with people who are painfully introverted and seem unable or unwilling to adapt to extroverted professions. Teaching is not counseling (in itself) where we have one on one conversations with people all day. Teaching is being at the center of a crowd, being seen as the leader of that crowd, and drawing others into interest and activity centered around the topic of the moment. If you throw up every time you even thing of having to stand in front of a group of people and speak - library science might be more for you! This rant is a reflection, by the way, on teachers and priests who fall into my target category.
Remembering ourselves and our power can lead to revolution but it requires more than a recalling of facts. Re-membering involves putting ourselves back together, recovering identity and integrity...(Palmer 2007, p.21)
There is some truly spectacular imagery and prose in this section of Palmer. He really strikes a chord within me when he speaks about re-membering. I find that the ability to put myself back together is really, literally, to pick up the pieces and put them back together - sometimes in a new or slightly different way than before the event that caused the breakage. If we really see our spiritual lives as a journey, Palmer is striking at one of the most important realities of living well the journey we've been given by God. It's not that we fall or break, but it's about how we get back up again and continue on better for having fallen.
Finally, the matter of personal identity is crucial in our ability to teach and teach well. This can however, in a religious context, be difficult to fully resolve for those who find their personal identity at odds with what the Church teachers or believes. It may seem obvious that those individuals need to, for the sake of their own integrity and the love of the profession, move into an educational setting that is secular, or at least more in line with their own identity. Having accompanied such individuals, this can, however, be a painful process for all involved. Talk about a need for a grounded spirituality for administrators as well as teachers.
Insert any profession where Palmer has the word teachers. Good doctors, priests, principals, plumbers, sales people - there is no substitution for a strong sense of who we are as individuals. I had an extraordinary conversation about a month ago with a ticket agent for Jet Blue. You just had a sense the woman new herself, accepted herself and was more open to the world because of it. Even just the desire to develop a strong sense of self is such a sign of health to me and that desire always involves a high degree of knowing that who I am today is not who I will be (or even should be) in five years. If I'm a person of faith today, five years from know I may say the same thing, but it's meaning, it's impact on my identity will be new, fresh, perhaps even resurrecting!
"Good teachers possess a capacity for connectedness (Palmer, 2007, p.11)."
Yes! My reflection here is a bit of a rant. I'm facinated, and very frustrated, with people who are painfully introverted and seem unable or unwilling to adapt to extroverted professions. Teaching is not counseling (in itself) where we have one on one conversations with people all day. Teaching is being at the center of a crowd, being seen as the leader of that crowd, and drawing others into interest and activity centered around the topic of the moment. If you throw up every time you even thing of having to stand in front of a group of people and speak - library science might be more for you! This rant is a reflection, by the way, on teachers and priests who fall into my target category.
Remembering ourselves and our power can lead to revolution but it requires more than a recalling of facts. Re-membering involves putting ourselves back together, recovering identity and integrity...(Palmer 2007, p.21)
There is some truly spectacular imagery and prose in this section of Palmer. He really strikes a chord within me when he speaks about re-membering. I find that the ability to put myself back together is really, literally, to pick up the pieces and put them back together - sometimes in a new or slightly different way than before the event that caused the breakage. If we really see our spiritual lives as a journey, Palmer is striking at one of the most important realities of living well the journey we've been given by God. It's not that we fall or break, but it's about how we get back up again and continue on better for having fallen.
Finally, the matter of personal identity is crucial in our ability to teach and teach well. This can however, in a religious context, be difficult to fully resolve for those who find their personal identity at odds with what the Church teachers or believes. It may seem obvious that those individuals need to, for the sake of their own integrity and the love of the profession, move into an educational setting that is secular, or at least more in line with their own identity. Having accompanied such individuals, this can, however, be a painful process for all involved. Talk about a need for a grounded spirituality for administrators as well as teachers.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Palmer Intro
"Teachers must be better compensated, freed from bureaucratic harassment, given a role in academic governance, and provided with the best possible methods and materials. But not of that will transform education if we fail to cherish - and challenge - the human heart that is the source of good teaching (Palmer, 2007, p.4)."
Feeling valued by the world in which we live certainly impacts our ability and even our desire to be people of our heart. There is something terribly wrong in our society and in the way we value who people are and what they do. When someone can make tens of millions of dollars for running an oddly shaped ball down a field across a big white line and teachers have to fight for a decent wage, there is something wrong! (I realize that my own Congregation's most visible ministry, the University of Notre Dame, only adds to this issue by celebrating and merchandising itself around sports) It's easy to say that money doesn't really express our admiration for something or someone, but that argument falls a bit flat in this type of free market economy. We're more fascinated with shallow, amoral celebrities than we are with fourth grade teachers who are changing lives! I was in the grocery store yesterday and I just didn't see any magazines at the check out line dedicated to celebrity teachers! I read an article earlier this year that gave data that supported the claim that we spend less per capita on education than several third world countries. We need to put our money where our mouth is as a nation.
Perhaps what Palmer is highlighting here is some advantage we've had in Catholic education. We too, the Church, needs to put our money where our mouth is relative to paying teachers, but yet a reality flies in contradiction to what I suggest above (and even to what Palmer suggests about resources). We've seemed over the many years to gain less for our buck in Catholic education. Our students do better long term; they more often than not test higher than their public school classmates. Our drop out rates are lower and God knows the per capita expense of our educational system is far less than the publics.
It's about heart. Catholic schools have always been about more than the books and the test scores. Teachers have historically chosen to be in a Catholic school (certainly knowing they will be paid less) for matters of the heart, not matters of money, prestige or high tech, modern classrooms. Somehow we've been able to convey admiration to our teachers and, I believe, more often than not to achieve what Palmer envisions. For us, when we speak of the heart, we speak of life as transcendent; of seeking something that in the end will never appear on a test score or a report card. Palmer is talking about the very mission of Catholic education.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Durka: Facing Ourselves; Facing the Unfamiliar
Through out these readings I've been trying to think what the one big issue was that impacted my own sense of spirituality when I was a full time Catholic school administrator. In this instance I don't mean what enriched my spirituality in an obviously positive way. (The kids were always the best part and they impacted my spirituality in amazingly graced ways!) But in this instance, I mean what shook me a bit. What caused a disequilibrium that might have caused me to loose sleep? I always find I learn something about myself when it's of the weight that it causes me to loose sleep. It was what Durka states on page 61: "Parents are more critical, demanding and divided. It is more difficult to establish a common set of expectations that support our efforts to maintain discipline and inspire our students."
Now I'm going to sound ancient, or worse, like I literally am turning into my own father, but I grew up in a time, a place and a culture that did not find itself so divided. I didn't grow up in a family less dysfunctional that the average family, but in reality our families' values were not in opposition to the stated or lived mission of any of the Catholic schools I attended. I jokingly tell the story that when I would be at dinner and start off a statement with "Sister said," one of my parents, not allowing me to finish the statement would say, "What did you do?" And I was a nice boy! I did very well in school. My parents would tell you that even today! I also wasn't an idiot, if I were in trouble (which I never was) I would not bring it up at dinner. My point is, my parents trusted my teachers (only 40% of whom were Religious so it wasn't just that), they viewed them as the experts and they wanted to reinforce at home what we were being taught at school (and the hoped for the reverse). On the rare occasion I (or my siblings) were being treated unfairly they might have inervened but not in accusatory way. And in the end they did teach us that even when we were right and the teacher was wrong that it was a good lession to learn where the power lies in certainly relationships. No doubt one could critique my parents methods of raising their children. God knows at times I have. But as Durka suggests, we are dealing with a crowd that can be "critical, demanding and divided." We see ourselves as mission driven and student focused. We hope parents share that vision, but...
I was principal of a high school in an area of the country (and a area of Pennsylvania) that time forgot. I mean that in a good way. Friends that would visit the high school from other places would refer to it as a "little slice of 1958." So on the rare occasion that there was clash between the mission of the school and a parent, it was all that more glaring. I could really shake me. These were often people I would also see at Mass, or at Eucharistic adoration, who would then turn on a teacher or me for having enforced a long standing rule or expectation. I knew we were right. I knew we had a sound philosophy and practice in place. I knew we were pastoral with the kids and with parents. But still, the clash of expectations would shake me.
To do this well takes a spirituality beyond simple self-knowledge and introspection, though both are an important part of developing that spirituality. This has to be grounded in something, dare I say, in someone. If a teacher has never felt put upon or misunderstood, or wrongly accused or has never had a parent suggest that the teacher (or administrator) compromise their beliefs, values or ethics - that teacher hasn't been teaching on this planet.
We make bold claims in Catholic education. Those bold claims, in things like God incarnate, the value of suffering, the hope of the resurrection - that's the foundation of our spirituality in Catholic education. They can't be the after thought. I'm a bit ashamed to admit that when I would lay awake at night going over and over an incident with a parent whose values were, simply put, screwed up, I must admit I too would forget that bottom line. Thankfully I would forget that bottom line for only a brief time.
I can't imagine wanting to be involved in education that is not connected to my faith and our tradition. And even with the grand and wide debate about what it is to be Christian or Catholic, I'll take this arena of education any day over one in which God can not be spoken of.
At the end of those sleepless nights, my consolation was always in the Christian mystery.
Now I'm going to sound ancient, or worse, like I literally am turning into my own father, but I grew up in a time, a place and a culture that did not find itself so divided. I didn't grow up in a family less dysfunctional that the average family, but in reality our families' values were not in opposition to the stated or lived mission of any of the Catholic schools I attended. I jokingly tell the story that when I would be at dinner and start off a statement with "Sister said," one of my parents, not allowing me to finish the statement would say, "What did you do?" And I was a nice boy! I did very well in school. My parents would tell you that even today! I also wasn't an idiot, if I were in trouble (which I never was) I would not bring it up at dinner. My point is, my parents trusted my teachers (only 40% of whom were Religious so it wasn't just that), they viewed them as the experts and they wanted to reinforce at home what we were being taught at school (and the hoped for the reverse). On the rare occasion I (or my siblings) were being treated unfairly they might have inervened but not in accusatory way. And in the end they did teach us that even when we were right and the teacher was wrong that it was a good lession to learn where the power lies in certainly relationships. No doubt one could critique my parents methods of raising their children. God knows at times I have. But as Durka suggests, we are dealing with a crowd that can be "critical, demanding and divided." We see ourselves as mission driven and student focused. We hope parents share that vision, but...
I was principal of a high school in an area of the country (and a area of Pennsylvania) that time forgot. I mean that in a good way. Friends that would visit the high school from other places would refer to it as a "little slice of 1958." So on the rare occasion that there was clash between the mission of the school and a parent, it was all that more glaring. I could really shake me. These were often people I would also see at Mass, or at Eucharistic adoration, who would then turn on a teacher or me for having enforced a long standing rule or expectation. I knew we were right. I knew we had a sound philosophy and practice in place. I knew we were pastoral with the kids and with parents. But still, the clash of expectations would shake me.
To do this well takes a spirituality beyond simple self-knowledge and introspection, though both are an important part of developing that spirituality. This has to be grounded in something, dare I say, in someone. If a teacher has never felt put upon or misunderstood, or wrongly accused or has never had a parent suggest that the teacher (or administrator) compromise their beliefs, values or ethics - that teacher hasn't been teaching on this planet.
We make bold claims in Catholic education. Those bold claims, in things like God incarnate, the value of suffering, the hope of the resurrection - that's the foundation of our spirituality in Catholic education. They can't be the after thought. I'm a bit ashamed to admit that when I would lay awake at night going over and over an incident with a parent whose values were, simply put, screwed up, I must admit I too would forget that bottom line. Thankfully I would forget that bottom line for only a brief time.
I can't imagine wanting to be involved in education that is not connected to my faith and our tradition. And even with the grand and wide debate about what it is to be Christian or Catholic, I'll take this arena of education any day over one in which God can not be spoken of.
At the end of those sleepless nights, my consolation was always in the Christian mystery.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Durka.....
Today, September 14th is the Feast of the Exultation of the Holy Cross. Tomorrow, September 15th is the Feast of Our Lady of Sorrows, the Patronal Feast of the Congregation of Holy Cross.
There are so many things in these readings that I am captured by but here are a few thoughts...
"If we concentrate more on enriching imagination, greater empathy for the other is possible. Imagination makes empathy possible. Of all our cognitive capacities, imagination is the one that helps us to look through the eyes of other and hear through their ears......Experiences with works of art can be helpful...(Durka, 2002, p.43)."
I'm such a Catholic cheerleader that I can't sometimes help myselt. It's not that I think we do everything better than others, but rather I think we do somethings very well. This quote from Durka reminds me of what a sensual religious tradition Catholicism is. We use things that we can taste, see, feel, touch and smell. This quote took my imagination to my home parish church and the window near the pew we sat in for every weekend Mass of my childhood. The window was the Baptism of the Lord in the Jordan. The image made Jesus so real to me, it make him truly human to me. And I imagined the window of Saint Cecelia high above the right side altar that I used to stare at during boring homilies. She was so elegant and kindly looking as the sun beamed through those magnificent colors. Art is so very Catholic.
And this reading reminded me of when I went to pay a bill up at Lone Mountain and went into what use to be the chapel (at which point I wanted to cry and could not help but think of Jesus' reaction to the money changers!). I was in clerical attire having just come from visiting someone at the hospital. The young man behind the counter asked me if I could explain to him the symbols in the remaining stained glass windows. Before I knew it there were six people standing and listening to me as I went one by one and explained the symbols visualized in splendid color. Those windows were there to instruct but also to stir the heart in such a way that faith was made active in people's lives. Compassion, empathy was made possible by remembering the story of Jesus and the saints and being drawn into those stories in how our imaginations were stimulated by those images.
Andrew Greeley speaks and has written about the Catholic imagination. Perhaps more important than anything else we do as Catholic educators, we need to foster that imagination in our students (as Durka suggests as well) and to use the tremendous history we have as Catholics within the realm of art to continue to instruct and to stir the heart. (Which leads me to wonder about a recently constructed cathedral in the Bay Area: Does raw concrete and minimalism stir the heart? Not mine.)
My second thought from Durka: "How sad it is that many teachers feel unable to defend their own beliefs...(Durka, 2002, p.53)" As a Catholic school administrator I found it particularly sad when teachers could not, or would not, defend their own faith beliefs. Hiring for mission really does mean that we need to find people comfortable enough with their own religious practice to speak openly about it. Although we may all from time to time struggle with our faith (something I see as good)I was always worried about the teachers who saw religion, even Catholicism, as a private matter. But to fulfill the entirety of the role of a Catholic school teacher, one has to be willing to model faith and religious practice to their students. Oddly enough, sometimes I found non-Catholics, even people outside of Christianity, more willing to speak about their faith and practice. This quote from Durka also reminds me of how personally secure we have to be as individuals to really be effective in education!
Monday, September 7, 2009
Identity and the Spirit
"Those who regard teaching as a vocation derive their identity from an inner motivation that allows them to shape their roles rather than merely occupy them...vocation focuses inward to the core of the practice itself." (Durka, 2002, p.4)
I'm not a teacher, not in the way I once was, though as a preacher I still draw from that identity. But my identity within the vocation of education is that of an administrator. I think I was a good teacher (I hope I'm a better preacher) but as my time in the classroom and the conference room unfolded, I came to realize that what God has given me is better used in educational leadership than it is in the daily routine of a classroom. But in that realization over many years I hold on to a deep respect for what happens in that daily routine of a classroom. And if I want to be a good administrator, I'd better hold onto that respect!
Vocation is all about, as Durka suggests, identity. The Christian vocation is about coming to know God's will, and thus our unique identity, within our individual lives. That can't be done, of course, without a reaching out from within each of us us to the world in need. To put it in very traditional terms, the more and more we become Christlike, the more we come to know and understand out true self.
The "core of the practice" for a Catholic educator, it seems to me, it to discern ones' identity as a teacher in light of the dignity we are given in baptism - to be part of the life and mission of Jesus Christ and His Church. To teach as Jesus did, as it where.
When I reflect on how life and experience drew me to administration I see how my vocation in Catholic education was an unfolding, in a rather natural way, from student, to teacher to administrator. It was a calling from within, as Durka suggests, but it was also a confirmation from the world around me. That's key to identity formation and discernment in vocation. We may think we should teach, but without some confirmation from outside of us that, in fact, we can teach, we can't (and should not) go deeper into that identity. We may think we have the skills and gifts to lead - but without some confirmation from others - we may just be developing a false identity.
All of this makes life in the Spirit more and more crucial to our endeavor. Trying to attune ourselves to the movements of the Holy Spirit in our lives will help us to achieve the vocational identity of which Durka writes.
I'm not a teacher, not in the way I once was, though as a preacher I still draw from that identity. But my identity within the vocation of education is that of an administrator. I think I was a good teacher (I hope I'm a better preacher) but as my time in the classroom and the conference room unfolded, I came to realize that what God has given me is better used in educational leadership than it is in the daily routine of a classroom. But in that realization over many years I hold on to a deep respect for what happens in that daily routine of a classroom. And if I want to be a good administrator, I'd better hold onto that respect!
Vocation is all about, as Durka suggests, identity. The Christian vocation is about coming to know God's will, and thus our unique identity, within our individual lives. That can't be done, of course, without a reaching out from within each of us us to the world in need. To put it in very traditional terms, the more and more we become Christlike, the more we come to know and understand out true self.
The "core of the practice" for a Catholic educator, it seems to me, it to discern ones' identity as a teacher in light of the dignity we are given in baptism - to be part of the life and mission of Jesus Christ and His Church. To teach as Jesus did, as it where.
When I reflect on how life and experience drew me to administration I see how my vocation in Catholic education was an unfolding, in a rather natural way, from student, to teacher to administrator. It was a calling from within, as Durka suggests, but it was also a confirmation from the world around me. That's key to identity formation and discernment in vocation. We may think we should teach, but without some confirmation from outside of us that, in fact, we can teach, we can't (and should not) go deeper into that identity. We may think we have the skills and gifts to lead - but without some confirmation from others - we may just be developing a false identity.
All of this makes life in the Spirit more and more crucial to our endeavor. Trying to attune ourselves to the movements of the Holy Spirit in our lives will help us to achieve the vocational identity of which Durka writes.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Life in the Spirit
Spirituality to me is summed up in those famous lines from Scripture, how we live and move and have our being. For me that reality is always through the ancient and rich tradition of Roman Catholicism. But I realize that many traditions have influenced and informed a Catholic view of the world, not the least being Judaism. For me, the Holy Spirit is a person of the Trinity, and so my sense of spirituality is personal, that is, about a God who seeks relationship with us and thus informs and guides the relationships we have in this life.
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