On Teaching: "Learning to Flow Downstream"

I have often thought of teaching as being like traveling on a river, and yesterday a simple but illuminating thought occurred to me: I spend way too much time battling upstream against the current. I realized that, in much of my planning and teaching, I see myself as one separate person fighting his way upstream, dragging my students behind me as if they are a fleet of canoes with no paddles. Never mind where the current is flowing -- I have my own, private, separate lesson plans, and I am bound and determined to haul my students where I want them to go, regardless of where the river is going. No wonder I feel exhausted at the end of many school days! What I have to remember – what I realized yesterday – is that, as a teacher, I am not separate, not alone, not totally responsible, not really pulling anyone. I and my students are part of a vast, measureless river called “life” that ceaselessly flows precisely where it wants to flow. No matter how hard we may fight to assert our separateness, the river of which we are a part keeps flowing in its harmonious and beautiful way. Knowledge keeps flowing, understanding keeps flowing, wisdom keeps flowing, realization keeps flowing, and my students and I are always flowing with this irresistible current, even when we’re trying our best to assert our separateness and fight against it. What I must do, today and every day, is simply stay awake and alert to this consoling truth. I simply have to remember that the river of learning is always flowing through my classroom – always -- even if I can’t discern the exact speed of the current or precisely where it’s taking all of us. My job is to navigate the current and to show my students how to do so, as well. Like me, many of them have grown accustomed to fighting upstream (in school, and in life), and my task is to give them an encouraging pat on the back and point them downstream. Then, hopefully, they will see (as I am still learning to see) that the river of learning is vast, harmonious, restful, and utterly thrilling. It’s not something to be fought, but to be enjoyed.