I’ve been struggling lately with my involvement in my church. After over 12 years of being in leadership, I backed away while I was taking classes at the Kansas City Art Institute. It felt good to get a break from at least one commitment.
Now I’m recovering from back surgery and looking at just what do I really want to do. What up next for this part of my life? This blog is one thing. Writing more is another.
What about teaching? I decided in second grade that I did not want to become a teacher. I was the baby in my family by ten and a half years, so I grew up in a household of relative adults. Children’s teasing and misbehaving were confusing to me since that wasn’t a part of my interactions in my household. I didn’t know how to respond.
I’m sure it was a normal part of the relationship between my brother and sister, but not between them and me. My sister babysat me. It was more an adult –to-child relationship than a sibling-to-sibling one.
The thought of being in charge of a classroom terrified me. I took classes at Unity for my own personal and spiritual growth and finished the class requirements but no more. I never intended to become a teacher.
Tap, Tap, Tap
Then I got the proverbial “tap on the shoulder.” Many of you know what I mean. When God speaks, you listen. The first time it happened to me earlier in my life, I argued. Then I cried and argued and tried to ignore. It didn’t work. I did what I was told to do. The result wasn’t what I expected, but the lessons were legion.
So this time when the tap came, I skipped the arguing and explored how to finish becoming a licensed Unity teacher. I taught the classes I need to become certified, enjoyed myself, but haven’t officially taught much since then. Why?
I grew up in a time when the prevailing teaching mode was lecture-only. Since working at Unity Worldwide Ministries, I’ve been well-taught by passionate educators that the ways to bring alive the material are only limited by my imagination. I learned about multiple intelligences and diverse teaching and learning methods. My teachers have been Anna Andes, Kathy Kellogg, Jane Simmons, Diane Venzera and Deborah Frownfelter, among others. So much passion and knowledge poured out of them, that I felt like a pretender in the education department. Who was I to teach among these giants?
I was an art history major with a love of writing. I didn’t take one education class in college. Many of my friends were special education majors. It was a specialty of my small, Catholic, all-girl college. But I was not among that group of people who were passionate about kids and passionate about teaching.
A Different Kind of Hang-Over
I think my reticence is really a hang-over from the old model of teaching, as if that is the “real” way and the newer ones I’ve been taught are pretenders to the throne. I don’t want to do it the old way, so I’m not going to do it. It also brings up the “I’m never going to be a teacher” idea from my 7-year-old self.
Wow! Who takes advice from a 7-year-old? I guess I have been without realizing it. I’m still playing with the idea of “what do I do now,” (I mistyped and said “know” instead of “now.” Freudian slip?) and it might include teaching in some form.
I do love to discuss spiritual ideas with like-minded folks, and isn’t that what teaching really is? Sharing ideas and stretching your mind around concepts that are different from yours? Seeing the world from a slightly different perspective after a conversation/class? Knowing yourself or others a slight bit better than you did before?
Maybe we’re all teaching and learning all the time without realizing it. Maybe this isn’t so hard after all. Maybe it’s time to let my teacher out of the box I’ve held her in. Anyone got an apple for my desk?
