ANEW: Transitioning
What should we be considering for the future of teaching teachers?
The last few weeks have been hectic. Getting in my car and RV and driving to South Dakota was pretty epic. Although it is not cool to report on the wonders of Sun Dance, which I wrote a little about in my last post, it’s hard to take something back once it’s out there. What I can say is that we need more contemplative practices that get us thinking about the larger questions in life, putting forth models and frameworks for healing and nurturing our tired souls.
Traveling about the Midwest and Upper Plains got me thinking about transitions in general. It’s been a while since I have had so much open road ahead of me to rest, feel, and breathe.
What I know to be true is that people long for a greater sense of not knowing and exploring the wonders of the unknown—not so much about themselves but about people they genuinely care about and who they want to do well in life. I’m not talking about Faith, per se, but more about the process of becoming more human and humane in this life and a better citizen in this world for its own sake. And at times our lives sometimes seem so predictable and harried at the same time.
Throughout my travels and career, I have appreciated the support and encouragement I have received during the last seven months. This is not merely about my travels; it’s about coming to the idea of wanting a career and life of deep impact. Regarding transitions, I’ve had many conversations with people who appear to be in a similar boat as me, rowing with the current towards some downstream escapade of growth and learning.
A few days ago, I met with a man named Steve at the Breakaway Cafe in Dover, NH, who worked until very recently at one of the universities in the Northeast as a futurist. Steve is a friend of a friend who finds himself thinking hard about making a meaningful difference in this world, too. I thought I knew what futurists do, but I always learn something new depending on the explainer. I’m not sure if I would make a good futurist, largely due to all of that nostalgia, and looking back, I do, but I know I have always been attracted to where the currents in education are leading students and their educators to consider. What constitutes deep learning?
Certainly, good teaching is about helping to facilitate resonant learning. This is what Harvard’s Tony Wagner calls the “half-life” of learning. Will a person’s learning keep growing and evolving over time? How do current research, trends, and good old-fashioned instincts of a teacher to curate good outcomes for their students play a part in the preparation for learning? And how many of us are encouraging those same students to look beyond what we teach them to find their paths?
We have all known children who have taken a subject to the Nth degree. They become experts at something that makes them knowledgeable and interested in the world, desiring to know as one’s school’s Latin motto encourages its students to dig into their learning – scire desidero.
What I desire to know is how we might learn to trust our most “out there” educators, encouraging and even exhorting them to push the boundaries on what is coming for us, even as society pushes back hard on anything out of the ordinary, not to mention out of the box? What’s risk-taking in leading students to make breakthroughs on their own? What I know from my new friend Steve is that futurists look for trends 18 - 30 years out and help companies and other institutions make sound predictions about what may be coming down the pike. They use data and common sense to make educated guesses about what living on earth, and work might look like for future generations.
Questions that arise may emerge from what we are already seeing in society, both in the United States and in other places, that we overlook due to our solipsistic avoidance of innovations that do not come from our own shores. For instance:
Will coastal communities around the globe need to move further inland to areas of the country and the world not as proned to flooding and erosion?
What will industries dependent upon a more predictable climate begin to think about and plan for as situations change—not just in decades but perhaps in a few years?
How will P-12 schools and universities think through their value propositions with a shrinking number of school-age and college-age students?
Will the landscape for normalcy mean more “assured-sounding” leaders, even if those assurances skirt known facts?
How might communities double down on more ancient wisdom traditions to look for guidance and help?
How will the face of education change, given all that is in store for us?
At our meeting, Steve mentioned some of the innovations going on at Arizona State as they prepare for a new but decidedly reduced number of teachers. ASU is doubling down on team teaching, leveraging the expertise of multiple teachers, which isn’t so much an innovation but a return to reducing the isolation that often permeates a single person teaching in a classroom. How might other and older ideas galvanize teaching programs to find some use in Higher Ed and in P-12 education, too?
Steve and I spent nearly three hours on what was scheduled for an hour-long talk hashing through our current thinking. What’s fascinating now will be how to keep on the learning edge while practicing and helping other schools, people, and institutions re-think what education is and could be in the future, particularly as some schools begin to shift their educational missions to become more responsive to what may be emerging. I am hopeful that we can be better question posers to get us considering future-forward collaborations as we prepare to craft a better world down the line.
Curated Listening:
Thinking about what’s coming next got me reflecting on Jimi Hendrix’s “Little Wing,” which is about those women in Jim’s life who watched over and protected him. Mammas, Aunties, Friends, and more. Listen to “Little Wing” HERE.