I despised them when I was in college. Sitting there, all fresh (NOT moving slowly this morning as a result of the kegger at Sigma Chi) in the front row of the lecture hall. Raising theirs hands, taking lengthy notes and having the audacity to….well, enjoy learning. They frequently asked long questions in the very last minute of the class, causing us all to be held hostage, witnessing whatever additional answers the professor gave.
If you can’t relate, I’m talking about the smattering of older adults in undergrad college courses. At the time I was so annoyed with their energetic attitudes, directly contrasting the sea of 19-year-olds just trying to make it through to the other side… but now, ironically, I am them.
It’s actually a shame. That the gift of higher education is forced on us during a developmental period in our lives when most of us are exhausted from learning. I’m sure I don’t speak for everyone, but I know I did little more than the bare minimum in college. With the exception of my elementary practicums that took us directly into classrooms for hand-on learning, I simply crammed and memorized, taking little joy in the acquisition of novel information. I know I was not alone in the sentiment of “I can’t wait to just be DONE.”
So taking this year of learning has been such a gift. I’ve come to deeply enjoy conversations with intelligent, thoughtful friends who are not only saving the children, but have new ideas for the current world. I’m excited to act on a question, a curiosity, or writing theme. For example, the other day I woke up and thought, “I wonder how many stores at the Mall of America are original?” Having been there for that summer day three days shy of my fourteenth birthday in 1992 when the massive mall opened, I have memories of a very different mall than the current one almost thirty years later. After a bit of a search I was able to find that up until 5 years ago, only 40 original stores remained (mostly big chain stores like Macy’s and Victoria’s Secret). But it made me think of the joy of following that mini quest. And while I do realize it’s 80% having the time to do it, I’m also inspired to reinforce that joy with my own children and students. Learning should be fun. We should be allowed to follow the white rabbit through the hole when our curiosity is piqued.
I’ve talked a lot about Mister Rogers in former posts, but he continues to be an inspiration and model. He was the master of making time for learning; pausing to ask questions about everything from crayons to wheelchairs to divorce. Looking into the summer, as we are bouncing from camp to activity, I need to make time to channel my inner Fred Rogers, to carve out moments for caterpillar research with Auggie. To assemble summer outfits with Charly, and embrace learning for the sheer joy of expanding creativity and knowledge.
** Inspired by a recent podcast by Brene Brown, I ordered Bittersweet by Susan Cain. She talks about how embracing sorrow and longing are the key to leading a balanced, healthy life. After reading the first ten pages, I almost abandoned it. There was so much support, and encouragement for sadness and melancholy that I was terrified it would dull my optimism. But as I read on, I realized having a realistic balance of emotions would actually fuel that very optimism. This was the best book to push my inner thoughts of what I value, and ties perfectly with the theme above.
Teaching the Good Stuff 