Reading over 40 Part B & C mid semester self-assessments
occupied most of my time these past few weeks. My mind was swimming in blogs,
observations, op-eds, and student assessments of the first half of the
semester. Overall, the quality of work,
the amount of effort invested in completing the Part B & C, and the
thoughtfulness conveyed by students was impressive. There were times I simply
had to pause and allow myself to absorb what I read before beginning another
review. One of my favorite aspects of reviewing the entire body of a student’s
work is reading their observations. There is a poignancy in these few sentences
students thread together that capture the enormity of a moment and remind us what
is often overlooked, or considered ordinary, can be both compelling and
revealing about the world we live in. From these few descriptive sentences I feel myself there, hearing the voices, seeing the faces, experiencing the hurt, heartbreak and joy. It is quite amazing how you can say so much with so
few words.
For the first time in many months I woke up without the
reviews calling me, and spent the morning reading papers and watching TV
without guilt. I decided not to go to Home Depot or do anything related to my
house. On a whim I dashed off to the Portland Art Museum to see a film I had
missed when it was released this summer with all the chaos in my life. It felt
like a guilty pleasure, and I had a grin plastered across my face as I drove
downtown. The movie was delightful, (In A World with Lake Bell who wrote,
directed and starred in it) and after the film I lingered in the gift shop. The
first book I saw was Candy Chang’s “When I Die”. I guess no getting away from
class! The book shows the cities worldwide where the project was done, and what
people wrote. It made me smile and I thought about all the wonderful programs
we saw via TED talks, the links and videos you all shared in your blogs, my
memories of working in Mart, and the projects you have begun this semester. And
I thought about your observations and how sometimes while reading them they
gripped my heart. I thought about Pam Dorr coming tomorrow and her work in
Greensboro, AL, which has revitalized a town yet how humble she is -
availing herself every time I call on her, even if it is just one person
she writes an extensive email reply to their questions. I thought about my lawyer daughter who works in non profit management on behalf of homeless people and my son
who works two jobs, yet attended a training yesterday in Oakland to be a mentor
to a foster youth, because as he said in a text to me, “ I need to make a
difference in someone’s life”.
We often hold our breath for the next crescendo or big act. I read my former student’s Facebook posts who are in grad school now, trying
to usher each semester by as fast as possible so they can have that next big
moment, which in this case is graduation. “It’s almost over” they keep telling
each other, and while I was tempted to post “Are you in the moment enjoying the
learning?” I wisely refrained. I recalled my desperation to finish my PhD in record time – I was battle weary, broke, and
worried about my future. Life and our reality often dictate our ability to
submerge ourselves in the luxury of being in the moment fully. From reading your
LRs, I know you have multiple responsibilities as I did; however, I was incredibly moved by how despite all the moving parts, you are learning, making
good use of your time at USM, and articulating and applying it in a meaningful
way. Your blogs alone exemplify how you as students are generators of knowledge
– not passive recipients or empty vessels to be filled by the all-knowing
instructor, which I am certainly not. You are an inspiration to your families, friends, each other, and me.
While driving the other day I pulled out my CD case, it had
been in my POD for months. I played an old CD by Mary Chapin Carpenter and one
of my favorite tracks has a lyric that aptly describes my path in life,
“Accidents and inspiration lead you to your destination”. I am a planner – I
make plans; however, things do not always fall in line, in fact they often do
not. What I have found is there is magic in derailment, and leaving room
for the unknown takes us places we would never have gone, meet people we
would have never met, and seized opportunities we never thought possible. I never imagined I would get my PhD though I always wanted to and believed I was meant
to teach, do research, and work innovatively in communities. It was a series
of things that didn’t really pan out that allowed me to take a vision in my
head that later became the Mart Community Project and pursue my doctorate at
age fifty-two. Sometimes what we don’t know is more important than what we do
know, and allowing ourselves to be uncomfortable for a time is what leads us to
soar to new heights and our better selves. It can get messy, and feel like we
are swimming in a sea of wicked problems (or are a wicked problem); however, I
do believe our ability to experience transformation, and facilitate
transformation for others, is a result of venturing into the great unknown. I
want to commend you for your work thus far this semester and staying in the
process with me, even when it seemed so foreign and confusing. You all remind
me of why I am so passionate about teaching and using the Learning Record, and
how learning is really a partnership and a life long process. Keep up the great work!
