On Teaching: Teaching and Hiking:

I was thinking this morning that teaching a class is like hiking in a wilderness I've never visited before. First of all, in both cases I'm more of an observer than a do-er. When I'm teaching, I may think I'm doing important things and controlling everything that happens, but the truth is that I have no idea why or how learning takes place in my room. It just happens, moment after moment, in the same way that breezes blow and leaves flutter and flowers wave in the wilderness. During my classes, I'm really merely an observer who constantly marvels at what my students and I think and say and do, just as I marvel at all the astonishing sights and sounds in a mysterious wilderness. Strangely, I'm not sure I've ever seriously thought of myself as an "observer" in my classroom. I've never completely understood the fact that learning (and all of life) is an infinite and mysterious process that is constantly continuing, with absolutely no guidance from me. I am not the "leader" of learning in my classroom, but only one element in the vast and intricate learning process. Like a person hiking in a completely unfamiliar wilderness, I should remember to gaze around and marvel at the thrilling happenings in my classroom. This doesn't mean, of course, that I can simply "do nothing" and allow my students to run amok during class. No, I have to continue to be the best teacher I can possibly be, because that is my assigned "part" in the astonishing miracle called education. However, it's only one part, and it's no more important than any other part. While I'm dutifully performing my part, I can also look intently at all the other parts being so beautifully played by books, pencils, papers, sunlight, tables, and -- most importantly -- the thoughts and feelings of my students.