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.

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.

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!

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.

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.