I used to tell myself stories about what I was doing, in my head. As in, not speaking aloud. My brain noise included the discussion of everyday things as a narrative. Sometimes as a child the voice telling the story would be the voice of the author whose latest book I was reading. That was some time ago. And by Voice… I do not mean “the people, the people!” voices in my head. I mean the voice speaking out from the pages I was reading and then ‘writing’ about other things inside my mind. I am used to writing. I write constantly, I write while I’m not even writing.
These days I spend more and more time in my head, because of all this philosophy of teaching I’m supposed to be inventing. About myself. I know myself really well, I’ve spent long long years, days, hours, writing and later blogging about what’s in my head. Generally I think nobody should have to know that stuff about me. Lots of it is public, lots of it reads like I wrote it in another life, but it’s not like I’d give out that website freely. At least not to anybody that knows is aware of me. (Knows is different from being acquainted.) Some of it is devastating to read. Some is jubilant but lots of it was written by a deeply conflicted and struggling author, trying desperately to figure out just exactly what happened, what went wrong, how did she (I) get to that point.
I have a hard time explaining that even to myself. Why not let everybody see my deepest darkest moments, especially since they weren’t all self-induced? I’m not an addict, I’m not a freak. Generally, though, I’m not sure a person’s public self is the same person as their innermost thoughts indicate they are. Sort of like a cigarrette filter. Nothing coming out of my mouth is unfiltered, although at times you’d never know that while listening to me. I’ve gotten better though, about not blurting out ridiculously thoughtless remarks. We would hope I’m an improved version of that girl writing out the past.
So I want to write my philosophy of education.
Where do I start?
Teacher. My definition of a teacher. Someone with useful information to transmit into the brains of learners. This information should be transmitted in an orderly fashion while still allowing for the different styles of each learner. Ideally the learners should all sit up like little baby birds eagerly devouring the delicious tidbits of informative nutrient offered. In the event that the learners are already feeling rather full of themselves, the teacher needs some tactics. The teacher needs skills. A tool-kit of behaviors useful for gaining the learners’ attention.
So that’s why I’m here. I need some skills. I have some information. I know down there in the deepest crevices of my gray brainy matter, there’s something filed away about art. And not just paintings, or which artist was which, I’m talking about how in certain circumstances, a straight line is way less interesting than sort of a crookedy line… and going outside the lines is not necessarily bad.