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I’m not a Teacher, I’m a Storyteller | A Story

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This may not be a radical idea… in fact, there are several fantastic articles on the topic I’ve linked below from others like me. But to a first-semester adjunct, this story I’m about to share was a groundbreaking moment of discovery, something we weren’t taught in “teacher school.”

This is a story about identity, development, and collaboration, and what it means to teach in collaboration with students.

I am not a teacher.

I was once asked in a marketing class to describe myself in one word, which is an impossible task for anyone who knows me. I’m an actress, a facilitator, a technology nerd, a stuntwoman, an entrepreneur, a caregiver, a DIYer, and a lifelong student with an endless list of interests. My degrees and certificates span culture, art, and technology, reflecting my refusal to decide what I want to be “when I grow up.”

But when I looked at all of those mismatched puzzle pieces, I realized they were all doing the same thing: telling or engaging with stories about people, ideas, systems, and experiences. So, I claimed the identity that fit all of them.

I am a storyteller.

No real big surprises there!

In my late teens, I was genuinely confused when a close friend asked if I’d ever considered teaching, after I’d given a laundry list of careers I was determined to have in my lifetime. Teachers, in my mind, were patient, gentle, steady, and meticulously organized. They were nurturers and experts. They were Ms. Frizzle, Gandalf, and Yoda made real. Don’t get me wrong, I was good at facilitating workshops; it was something that had sparked this recommended career path. However, a sixteen-week class felt apocalyptic for my hypothetical students, and for me. I was going to get attached, I was going to be a fixer of problems, I was going to hold them to too high standards, I was going to be a chaotic ball of energy with a little too much enthusiasm for the most mundane topics. I am a Storyteller, not a Teacher. I had some of those magical traits, but not enough to even consider the title, let alone the position.

Nearly seven years later, a coworker suggested I gain classroom experience if I wanted to become an instructional designer. I nodded politely while internally panicking. I loved the idea of giving back and sharing what I’d learned, but the same thought echoed in my head: I wasn’t a teacher. I could share my experience, I could show, listen, and explore with them. But was that enough?

Then, by a twist of fate, I was asked to fill an emergency opening to teach Photoshop. A program I’d been using for years, and one of my favorite classes I’d taken as a student. To be honest, I think I was already drafting an email asking for a course shell before the acceptance email fully left my inbox. I was excited about the opportunity to design a learning experience; the reality of “teaching” hadn’t quite hit me yet.

I started building something I’m passionate about. I can disappear for hours in a module, reworking, reorganizing, researching content, aligning, and anticipating. It was pure heaven as I built this world for my students to come play in with me. I started worldbuilding. The competencies became plot points. Each module became a chapter. I imagined my cast of characters (students) before I met them. I could see each of them: the non-creatives, the already-proficient, the ones relying on the Computer Commons to complete their work. I adjusted due dates. I planned support. I made sure my characters had what they needed to take this long journey with me and prepared myself for them to surprise me and help me revise my ideas as they grew.

On the first day, I walked in ready to play the role of “teacher.” I had taken classes on the art of teaching. I knew how to explain things. I had a color-coded “script” (lesson plan). I was so ready.

Nothing inherently traumatic occurred during that first class (despite every technical issue imaginable). We went over the syllabus, opened the program, and started exploring together. I asked questions and used my energy to draw the students out of their shells. It went (objectively) very well. I’d been told over and over again, “Facilitators aren’t Teachers”, and I internalized that meant I didn’t belong in this space. But that’s okay, I’m an actress, I’m used to playing in spaces that aren’t my own… but my identity as a Storyteller also informed my feelings over and over again… I wasn’t a Teacher. I walked out of that first class feeling like a facilitator who had just run a great workshop… but that wasn’t enough. The disconnect felt palpable, but I couldn’t put my finger on what was holding me back. It came back to identity. I’m not a teacher; that must be why this nagging feeling of “wrongness” was creeping in. Real teachers don’t feel like this!

I struggled for weeks with the tension between who I thought a teacher was supposed to be and who I was when I taught.

Then one week, exhausted and defeated, I “gave up” the fight to lean away from my facilitator roots. We were discussing typography, specifically kerning, when a student asked, “Is that why the Skyfall poster looks so weird?”

I could hear the angel chorus start to ring as I paused the lesson. We pulled the poster up, and sure enough, the letter spacing was dramatic. I dropped the poster into Photoshop and demonstrated how we would adjust the kerning in real time. The room changed instantly, and I’ll never forget the excitement as students dove for their keyboards to find more examples. This was the magic of improvisation I felt every time I presented a workshop, facilitated open conversation, and led with the story.

It was a frantic, somewhat chaotic moment as we found momentum in the uncharted territory, but it felt like settling into a familiar space.

Suddenly, we weren’t talking about fonts; we were examining how we, as humans, relate to shape, weight, color, and spacing, and using storytelling to do it.

I abandoned my carefully crafted PowerPoint. I scribbled the vocabulary and key points on the board. Students Googled their favorite posters, albums, advertisements, etc. We analyzed them together to see what worked, what didn’t, and what the design communicated about character and tone. How what we were learning popped up in the real world and (more importantly) how learning this tool would inform their future design work. They used the vocabulary. They debated the meaning. They connected design choices to narrative intent.

At the end of class, they sat outside in the commons, still talking about font pairings and correcting one another, using the language we’d just learned. Their work that week left a huge smile on my face. They didn’t just “get” the lesson; they internalized it. They were making creative connections and using examples from class and from their own research to do it.

The students connected to the story in a way they hadn’t to a more traditional style of curated, guided instruction. They were finding personal application and discovering motivation through the momentum of exploration.

The next week, they were still referencing those posters while discussing color theory. Their assignments showed more care, more intention, more thought.

That’s when it clicked.

I wasn’t failing at being a teacher by facilitating.

I was succeeding at being a storyteller.

I wasn’t delivering information; I was facilitating the journey toward discovering meaning. I was connecting lived experience and observation to new knowledge. The course wasn’t broken (and I wasn’t broken). I didn’t need to become someone else.

I didn’t have to become a teacher.

I just had to tell the story and invite the students to make the lesson a part of their own journey.

I’d built the world already. I knew who my students were and what they hoped to get out of the class. I just needed to guide them in the right direction and build momentum toward discovery.

Now in class, every session started with a rehearsed PowerPoint-based launching point to set our foundation… and then I turned the students loose on the topics with guiding questions: “So where have you seen this?” or “What does this remind you of?” or (their favorite) “Walk me through this concept/tool/idea.” Every class is an adventure (literally and figuratively). There were a few times we found ourselves on the edge of a rabbit hole, and I had to pull us back on topic, but the energy in the room was incredible. The collaboration and exploration were infectious… and I had so much fun witnessing it.

So, to me, a teacher is a little like the “Wise Guide” archetype, providing wisdom and experience for a hero and their journey. But this Guide doesn’t have to tell their Padawans all the answers or hit every bullet point on the lesson plan with perfect phrasing. They paint a picture, create a world, tell a story, and lead students through key concepts toward the big “aha!” moment at the end.

Teaching is storytelling.

There is no one type of teacher, just like there isn’t one genre of storytelling.

Every great teacher is a master at facilitating learning in their own way, showing students how to make meaning and breathe life into a concept by guiding them through the world (content) we love, helping them fight dragons (challenges), and watching as they become the heroes of the story (making independent meaning).

Deeper Reading (Storytelling as an Educational Tool)

The Educational Benefits of Storytelling
The Power of Storytelling to Facilitate Human Connection and Learning
The Value of Storytelling as a Learning Tool

6x6, AI, empowerment, engaging students

The Art and Science of AI in Education

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The Need for Deeper Examination

Educational Technology, as a field of study, is all about recognizing how technology helps (and hinders) student learning. Recognizing how we support “old school” practices with technology, and temper “new” practices with proven strategies. Ultimately, it’s about recognizing balance as an essential tool for success… and sanity.

Cue AI’s continued dramatic entrances into our sacred spaces of learning and tranquil chaos. AI has become a destabilizing force for industry, arts, education, and society at large. Higher education, especially, has met AI with hesitancy, distrust, and a healthy dose of skepticism. We’ve all thought it and heard it:

“AI is going to make teachers irrelevant!”

“This generation will never learn core skills because of this technology!”

“Our students will become too reliant on technology at the expense of critical thinking!”

“This technology is going to destroy industries and cost jobs!”

I offer you this sobering thought… similar concerns have been presented during several technological revolutions of our past:

  • The Printing Press (1450s)
  • The Personal Calculator (1970s)
  • The Personal Computer (1970s)
  • The World Wide Web (1991)

Ironically, each of these technologies is now central to Higher Education and can be credited, in part, with our continued survival. Personally, as a Tech Enthusiast and a born-and-raised Computer Geek, I feel we should always meet technology with a healthy dose of cynicism. Does this technology actually make our lives better/easier? Do we actually need this technology, or is it a “nice to have”? One of the many lessons learned from the Pandemic is that technology has its limitations, but can also be a surprisingly powerful source of connection and creativity.

Let’s explore these two questions as they relate to AI and the wider world…

Does AI make our lives better/easier?

Every time I ask myself this question, it gets harder to answer.

As a creative, it’s made my industry quite frustrating. It’s led to debates questioning whether the value of artists and artistry outweighs profits and efficiency. Is the value of art rooted in its ability to be consumed, or in the act of its creation? More on this in a bit.

As a Graduate Student and a notoriously slow reader, AI was a lifesaver. Being able to use programs like NotebookLM each week to generate a podcast summary of my readings allowed me to focus on the big picture first, then strategically consume the sections that resonated and challenged my views, rather than skimming everything and hoping for the best. It was also a lifesaver to ask AI to help me find a quote or statistic in my readings, instead of having to sift through hundreds of readings from the whole semester in the hopes that I wasn’t just hallucinating the idea.

As a facilitator and trainer, AI has helped me break down ideas and concepts into more digestible steps. Helping me rephrase, re-examine, and find new ways to engage. I can’t describe the number of times I’ve asked AI, “Does that make sense?” and been humbly reminded that I need to remember what it was like to learn and not assume shared knowledge or experience.

Do we need AI in education?

The short answer is no.

Educators will keep on educating without any assistance from AI. Education predates the internet, the printing press, and even our ability to make tools. We’re just fine without AI.

But let’s circle back to rephrase that earlier question about artists. Is the value of knowledge and education rooted in the ability for it to be consumed/absorbed, or in the act and experience of learning itself?

What does it mean “to learn”?

  • Is the point of learning math solely in the ability to complete math worksheets, or is it about teaching students to learn to reason, recognize patterns, and think critically about how we solve the problems of our world?
  • Is the point of learning how to replace the engine in a car only about the exact placement of the nuts and bolts? Or is it also about developing workflows and processes that promote accuracy, efficiency, and anticipate problems before they arise?
  • Is the point of learning to write an essay rooted in our ability to write a perfectly formatted paper? Or is it about learning to express our thoughts and emotions, develop our sense of self, reason, and build meaning, and share with others?
  • Is the point of learning to act the ability to memorize and recite a monologue from Shakespeare? Or is it about recognizing the universal emotions and experiences across time and space, about developing empathy, about recognizing and clarifying our intent as we navigate the world?

I’d like to challenge you to take a look at your subjects and look at the core of the lessons your field has to offer (not just the skills!). Then ask yourself whether that is something AI can replicate.

For most of us, the answer is no.

The Art and The Science

When I used to teach leadership, we’d talk about the two sides. The Art and the Science. The “science” of leadership is what you’ll hear from every TED Talk and CEOs’ latest book. It’s a series of processes and proven strategies… It’s a formula. However, the Art of leadership is about application. I can put every leadership problem into a formula, but do I have the soft skills, empathy, communication skills, experience, humility, etc., to put the output of my formula to good use?

In teaching, we often focus on that “science” aspect. If we want students to learn to write, we ask them to write an essay. We give them the tools they need, the expected formula, and the rules. However, all AI knows is the “science” of writing. The patterns and formulas we so carefully teach our students. But what about the Art of writing the essay? Not the ability to phrase words “prettily” or use an Oxford comma in a way that would make our High School English Teachers weep with joy. No, it’s about formulating ideas and expression. AI can imitate this, just like a leader can imitate the formulas they’ve read about, but it will be hollow until we add that art… that sliver of imperfect humanity.

So, should we ask them to write the metaphorical essay? I beg the question: what about that essay can’t the students ask an AI to do for them? Or, perhaps more importantly, in what ways can we use the essay as a tool to facilitate a larger lesson on the importance of discovering our voice and finding a balance between expectation, efficiency, and expression of ideas?

Education doesn’t need AI

Our students don’t need AI

Our World doesn’t need AI

But it’s here, and we’re all still trying to find a balance between technology and humanity because of it. We need to find our path to collaborating with AI in a way that furthers our fields, rather than saturates them.

Collaboration with AI in education doesn’t mean outsourcing thinking or chasing efficiency for efficiency’s sake. It means approaching AI as something to question, critique, edit, and wrestle with. Our role isn’t to compete with AI or to ban its use out of fear. We’ve been given an opportunity to reflect and redesign learning experiences that ask students to do what AI can’t do: make meaning, exercise judgment, reflect on values, and develop a sense of voice and intent.

Our students will enter a world that invites, tempts, or requires the use of AI. Are we preparing them for that world? Higher education has long been a space where we help learners navigate the complexity and ambiguity of our society with thoughtfulness and preparation. This moment offers us an opportunity to reexamine what we value most about learning and to intentionally teach students how to balance the science of efficiency with the art of being human.

empowerment, engaging students, evaluation, explain everything, faculty development, GCC, GCC Students, GCCAZ, higher education, learning design, Student Engagement, Teaching Ideas, Write6x6

A Balancing Act

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A Little of This – a Little of That

One of my goals as an instructor here at GCC is to improve students’ listening skills. Most of the time I do this without them consciously knowing it. That sounds rather odd. It’s not that they aren’t conscious, but they may be distracted — paying attention to other things — while improving their listening at the same time.

I ask questions that I hope will make them think about what they listen to in their every day life. I ask them to describe what they are hearing and what their first reactions are. I’ve found if I can include visuals they will listen a lot longer and understand more clearly what the music is trying to convey. I have discovered that students start paying more attention to everything that is part of their listening day, and that is my intention.

One of the questions I often ask is “Do you listen to orchestral music?” Most students answer, “No, never.” I then talk a little about film. Do they watch films? Again, most of them say, “Oh, yes, I watch movies all of the time.”

With that they usually realize that they have listened to lots of orchestral music. Here’s an example: Composer John Towner Williams (we have learned through trial and error that there are a lot of ‘John Williams’ out there so I have become accustomed to using his middle name just to make sure we are all talking about and listening to the same guy), who has had the temerity to scare us out of the water, share the feeling of flying under all sorts of conditions, whether on a broom, a bicycle, or as a bird, and show us the martial qualities of The Dark Force. I chose this clip because of the content, the audience reaction, and, in this case, not for the visual images, which are slightly blurry. The answer to your question about the first instrument you see is – a contrabassoon. This is as iconic as Bernard Herrmann’s strings in Pyscho, but I digress. One of these days someone will re-master it and it will be clear — but in the mean time, I dare you to stick your toe in the water….

Williams’ Jaws

Known for many different kinds of music, Elmer Bernstein’s music has been patriotic and poetic. Here is a well-known theme. I usually choose something from the film “To Kill a Mockingbird,” but you should all be familiar with this.

Elmer Bernstein’s National Geographic Theme

There are a number of others I could have included if we were learning some specifics, but I thought it might be interesting to simply poke a little fun with Vangelis:

Mr. Bean with one of my favorite conductors – Sir Simon Rattle

I hope you enjoyed the listening.

Apologies for any advertising that may have appeared. In Canvas this does not show up.

empowerment, GCC, GCCAZ, higher education, k-12, professional development, student success, Teaching Ideas, Write6x6

Inclusivity – Who is In, Who is Still Clueless

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Faulty Assumptions….

I received an insurance notice the other day from a company with whom I’ve been doing business for decades — many decades. What caught my eye was the fact that it was in my husband’s name, not his and mine, not a version of the two, just his – as if I didn’t even exist. (We do not share the same name. When we married and I was asked what my name would become, I wrote out the name I was born with. Yes, it’s a difficult name, but I’m sticking with it.) But to assume that because I am finally (italics, for my mother) married and that all of my business correspondence should now be in my husband’s name is a bit presumptuous. Is this recent? No, we’ve been married 25 years. One would think after 25 years this would no longer be an issue. Haven’t we made more progress socially? I assumed we had. I guess I was wrong.

And speaking of presumptuous: Not only did I receive a notice for insurance that used to be in my name since the late 1980s, when I recently received a health insurance card from my husband’s employer the issuer ASSUMED and put down my husband’s last name next to my first. Excuse me, not only is that not legal, but it is incompetent. I was not asked, and neither was my husband. Please, let me go on — but I won’t.

Are my husband’s feelings hurt because I didn’t take his name? Not a whit. I would never have married him if his ego was so easily bruised.

A Rose by any Other Name

Now, putting assumptions and names aside for a minute, a rose (or Puffin, in this case) by any other name, and all of that, let’s get back to our primary subject DIVERSITY. Diversity is vested in INCLUSIVITY and ACCEPTANCE. What was all that about a name? If you can’t even get that right, how are you going to get any other elements of diversity correct? We are still assuming or presuming wrongly, on some of the most basic things.

I know all of you will do a great job at including a list of everything and everyone that should be part of diversity. I am proud and confident of that statement and will leave you to it – because I’m going for something different.

As an instructor teaching about American and world cultures I am hyper-aware of inconsistencies when talking about culture and people – especially when it comes to research and portrayals of different kinds and types of people.

Researchers have gone into difficult areas of the world in order to make recordings of people’s music they knew nothing about. Unfortunately, at times, that has also included some general assumptions that the people they were studying lacked civilization. In whose world? Who gets to say? Yes, I’m making a broad-based assumption. That used to be a fact more than it tends to be today. I am forever thankful for researchers doing these difficult things, taking these difficult journeys. I just want to make sure that we don’t make assumptions based on “facts not in evidence.”

Let Them Communicate

If we strive to make sure that all groups are included, which is part of my goal, then we need to make sure that all people are respected, as well. It’s not enough that they are in the room. I’ve watched people be placed or allowed “in the room,” and then thoroughly ignored. Not only do these individuals need to be part of the conversation while they are there; but when they aren’t there, the conversation needs to act as if they are. It’s amazing what kinds of insights these individuals can bring to the conversation if only someone would care enough to listen. The scions of culture (okay, I admit to a little sarcasm here), TV, the classroom, film, books, and multimedia, need to refer to everyone in the same manner – – respectfully. That includes written dialogue, how one speaks to others and about others, and doesn’t always go for the punchline – especially at someone else’s expense.

I still hear “you do such and such like a ____________________ fill in the blank for the disparaging remark aimed at gender, ethnicity, age, ability, et cetera. I was watching a favorite movie not long ago, one I’d always loved with dialogue elements at their finest, but I gasped when I heard the expression “Are you learning impaired” as a joke. I was sick with disappointment that one of my favorite screenwriters stooped to such a cliché. As long as people are encouraged to make fun at others’ expense, whatever difference, we will not truly have a diverse and cohesive cohort – whether they are present or not. In the meantime, I will never be able to watch that film again.

Two Difficult Groups

I’d like to leave you with two thoughts, and they don’t have to do with names, but identities; Two groups who are largely ignored, dismissed, and forgotten. They are:

  • People over 50, yes, 50, – the aging population (I know you don’t believe me, but it’s very true)
  • The Cognitively Disabled (I know you’ll believe me on this and you’ll start with .…but – I want you to hold that ‘but’ in.)

Yup, I’m aiming deep. The aging population, in general, is dismissed, mocked, and ignored. The cognitively disabled is a difficult group because every individual is different – differently abled, and different thinkers.

Several Roses in a Cohort

Temple Grandin has a great way of putting those on the autism spectrum (to name only one segment from the cognitively disabled) into a more robust point of view. She believes that it takes someone on the spectrum in order to change and move society through discovery and innovation.

Discovery and Innovation, two of my favorite power words. If you don’t know Dr. Grandin, yes, she’s on the spectrum, as she believes many who have invented and created throughout history have been, you should look up her work in the cattle industry – or on autism. She could have been shunted aside as being different, or seeing things in a different way. I agree with her. Perception or changing perspective can make all of the difference in the world. That has been her métier.

So, two difficult groups that have so much to offer society – still. Don’t assume these individuals can’t do it – assume they can with the right circumstances. I think what surprises me the most is how these two groups are constantly underestimated. How can we let people who are in their prime with their knowledge and their expertise be dismissed so easily. I can only assume it has something to do with guilt by association. No one wants to be old and ignored. No one wants to be young and cast aside, where people are afraid to let them try. I have connections with both of these groups of people and have been watching this for years – trying to keep my finger in the dike. What a waste of their talent. Don’t leave them off the list.

Don’t Leave Them Off the List*

*Many thanks to the (GOP) Group of Puffins who lent their Images for this Writing. (No Puffins were harmed or even slightly disturbed on behalf of this document.)

empowerment, engaging students, evaluation, explain everything, faculty development, GCC, Glendale Community College, higher education, Living, Student Engagement, teachers, Teaching Ideas, We Matter, Write6x6

Can We Live Without Risks?

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A statement someone made recently jumped out at me. They said they rarely take risks. I was amazed. I consider myself a very careful person, but I often feel like my risks are the challenges I take on. Of course, I’m not talking about doing anything like this!

Perhaps it’s the definition of the word risk [enter student’s clichéd discovery of dictionary definition to make written assignment longer]. Wink

I see risk as a transition and an opportunity. Now, if the risk doesn’t have that element, I won’t do it. In some ways, we all take risks every day. There are certain risks I simply won’t consider, the consequences are just too costly.

Professionally, I was always taught to say ‘yes,’ if you want to work. People want to know that you will say ‘yes,’ when they ask. It saves time for those hiring. That’s a musician’s point of view. It’s the way you keep getting more opportunities – or, for those who prefer less formal constructs – How you get more gigs. Regrets, yes, certainly. I said ‘no’ to a really good opportunity, which was a risk, because I was just getting married (hence, already in the midst of a transition) and didn’t want to spend my honeymoon thinking about the project and risking the beginnings of our marriage… I’ll always think about where that job might have led. But see, once again, I keep going back to the positive-negative balance of risks.

And I’ll admit to some positive/negative possibilities. I’ve walked into a classroom and spoken completely ‘off the cuff,’ which is definitely a risk. It’s not that I hadn’t thought about it. I had. I know my subject deeply. Some of those have been my most inspired lectures, but occasionally, they have not. It’s a risk.

How about classroom management? I had a student who sat in the front row of class and never took a note. (This is a room that is set up as a lecture/recital hall, so down in front is noticeable.) In fact, he came in without anything – no books, no notebook, no pen/pencil or computer. Nothing. An instructor would assume he didn’t come prepared for class. And we’ve all had those students who obviously weren’t. Did I mention this was a long lecture format? The class was two hours and twenty minutes long. Should I say anything to him? He wasn’t disruptive, and he did well in the subject. One day he came in with a Rubik’s cube. I saw it, but chose not to say anything. As the lecture was finishing I just happened to look over at him. He subtly showed me his work by merely opening his hand. It was finished, and it was perfect. He hadn’t been disruptive to anyone, he didn’t show anyone else, I hadn’t been interrupted by what he was doing, but it allowed him to concentrate on what we were talking about. A risk, and a reward.

Deeper Risks

I could stop there, because it would be a great place to end – but I’m going to “risk” it and go heavy. As I mentioned earlier, we take risks every day. Driving, flying, walking down a set of stairs, saying something that you wish you hadn’t. I never discuss politics. I’ve gotten to where I rarely offer comments – especially to the entire world on any of those fronts.

But I’m going to include the world community and the risks people are facing today because we need to be talking about this in our classrooms. These are the ultimate risks because they are about basic human needs. This is not something that is happening somewhere else. It will ultimately affect us here. I was just reading an article about the fact that many Russians are also leaving their homeland, just as many Ukrainians are – except those who choose to fight. There is a general surge of people trying to survive with some semblance of their lives intact. In the article, the author referred to a family’s current residence, a shared room with three mattresses on the floor. The people had a roof, they had mattresses, a floor, running water, and they still had some money. They had been well-to-do so such living conditions would not have been acceptable in their previous life, but under the circumstances they knew they were lucky. They calculated the risk and felt they’d come out ahead considering the cost.

I first saw evidence of the collapse of the Soviet Union in the 1990s in Sweden. I ended up working with two Russian musicians as part of a Swedish quartet. There were interesting cultural flare-ups that surprised me. But like other recent mass emigrations, everyone was, and had been, fleeing for their lives. It’s amazing what we are willing to risk when we feel that we have little left to lose or too much to lose – our lives or our children’s lives.

A fountain with a person etched into it
Found at an Estonian Fountain commemorating lost lives

In Estonia, ten years after the last Russian troops slowly left, I moved there, and in my research I learned more of Stalin’s ’round up’ of people. Sometimes there were lists, sometimes just numbers. ‘Take this number of people. I don’t care who.’ They disappeared or went to gulags. Often, no one ever knew whether they were killed outright or just never seen again. How can you live with that threat? I was part of an interview team to determine whether a young Estonian man would study in the U.S. when he talked about the importance of the NATO alliance to his country. I knew about NATO. It also meant, in couched terms, the U.S., from where funding came for this prestigious scholarship. I occasionally thought about NATO – but not to the extent that this young man understood it because the Estonians had few defenses against the Russians on their shared border. We, as Americans, have the luxury of a different point of view.

Before I sign off, I want to mention that moving people, their craft, their professions, their influences, and their cultures affects everything. It affects the arts, music, the humanities, science, technology, engineering, people, and even education. Would you stay or would you go? Ultimately, when we talk about risks, these are the most critical risks to discuss. I truly believe as educators everything we do counts, but we are also lucky that we can talk about risks that are so relatively ordinary when others face risks that are so tremendously devastating.

empowerment, higher education, Write6x6

Lifelong Search ….

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Almost Losing My Heart

Whenever I saw a piano (as a child) I felt compelled to play it. I attribute this to my birthday because it fell just after the kindergarten cutoff for enrollment by two hours, and resulted in piano lessons for a year. When I did start kindergarten a year later our class shared many miscellaneous items in Show and Tell, (one involved a large coconut which I carried ten blocks with two skinned knees – the frustration of dropping and falling over and over, and the excitement of wanting to show it to my classmates… I still remember).

I am told that one afternoon our kindergarten teacher was called out of the room. As you know, teachers rarely leave the classroom because chaos often ensues. With a bit of trepidation she returned to find the entire class quietly huddled around the piano where I was sharing some of the pieces that I had learned. I wasn’t showing off, just simply showing them things I had learned, much as teachers did for me for many years to follow.

I have memories of many teachers who made a difference. It wouldn’t be fair to single out one because I was lucky to have had so many. Everyone talks about good teachers that make a difference. They never talk about the lousy ones, but I had a crop of those, too. By that time I was much older, an accomplished pianist after decades of lessons, but now ignored primarily because I dared to try to write music instead of just play music. That also taught me a lot as a teacher. It taught me never to pre-judge a student by assuming that they didn’t have anything to offer because of the notion that only certain people can write music or learn about music. It sounds almost impossible today. People lose jobs over that. I almost lost my heart over it.

No, I didn’t teach at that school, although I did create a course at one of its sister institutions, a course in Marketing the Arts, which I taught for several semesters – much to my professors’ chagrin. I persevered in the program, and, as luck would have it, became a music critic at a major metropolitan newspaper and ended up reviewing every professor I had and their music writing. (Unlike them, I was kind). I graduated and changed schools.

At this new school I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, but it never did. I expected the same treatment. My music was representational which was not in vogue. What I found instead was that the faculty and students accepted me and my music. Interestingly enough, I rarely play piano anymore except to compose. My many days of performing in order to be an accepted musician were now only as an accepted composer – I made a point of it. I taught theory classes, which is what most composers teach while finishing their terminal degree. I wrote articles and produced concerts. I reviewed concerts at another major metropolitan newspaper from time to time. But I now never introduced myself as a pianist, which was where I found my heart. I now only refer to myself as a composer, where I found it again.

It took losing my heart to find it again and it means too much to me to let it go. I love teaching music and teaching about being a musician. I love teaching about the creative process and I love the enthusiasm of my students, learning about or hearing music for the first time. That is where my heart takes me.

empowerment, Write6x6

Inspired by Educated by Tara Westover

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Over Spring Break I finished reading Educated by Tara Westover. The memoir is about a young woman’s journey from her religious family to higher education. The book has several themes. There are areas that focus on identity, family, faith, education, etc. The book really resonated with me for several reasons, but the area that really resonated with me the most was the power of education in the author’s life and how it helped her to evaluate who she was and discover the woman that she is today.  Her ability to go through this process is really due to her education inside and outside of the classroom.

A huge part of my identity revolves around education. Just like the author, I was able to discover who I am and who I wanted to be in life. My parents encouraged all of their children to get an education, they believed that they were the keys to success. I thrust myself into my studies and quite a few of the lessons I learned came from inside  and outside of the classroom. As educators, we must never forget the impact the classroom has on not only our students and their profession but also who they are as an individual. The author learned a lot about herself inside and outside of school. Here are some things I learned about myself from my educational experiences:

I didn’t want to be a lawyer when I grew up. For the longest time I wanted to be a lawyer. We did a mock trial in high school and I realized, THIS IS NOT FOR ME. I played the lawyer and I choked. My heart was not in it. My heart is in teaching.

Hard work and belief go a long way. I believe I’ve mentioned this before, but I was not the best speech and debate competitor in college. I lacked confidence and some key skills. Over time I decided to up my work ethic and to really believe that I could do it. The end result, I have some championships under my belt and I’m proud of that accomplishment.

I’m a nerd and I’m proud of it. I love school, reading, studying, and watching and engaging in nerdy things like Game of Thrones. I have reaped many benefits and rewards from my nerdiness. I even include it in my lessons in the classroom.

Prayer and Coffee. Ever since high school, people have mentioned to me how they can’t believe how I get through the crazy business of life. I tell them that I get through it with a whole lot of prayer and a whole lot of coffee. Both came from my family. I grew up in a religious home and everything revolved around prayer. The coffee came from my mom, she loves it, I picked up the habit my senior year of high school and I have not let it go. Prayer and coffee are my lifeline. =>)

Life will hand you some serious lemons, make the best batch of lemonade you can, and drink a giant big gulp cup of it in front of life. I’ve drunk several big gulp cups of lemonade in front of life. I’ve done my best to make the best lemonade from some sour lemons in life. I’ve had uncertainty and struggles with school, work, and health, but I’m thankful that lemonade has come from that. I’m grateful.

The lessons learned are only a small portion of the things that have shaped me. All of the lessons learned, just like the author in Educated, have contributed to who I am today, and I wouldn’t change it for anything.

 

 

 

advice, empowerment, Living, Write6x6

Confessions of a people pleaser

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Advice on how to deal with difficult conversations in the classroom or workplace? Here’s a tip: Don’t follow my lead. I could write a textbook about how to be a people-pleaser and a doormat. I could have been the poster child for how not to stand up for yourself. But, that’s changing…

In the past year, my rose-colored glasses started to crack and now they have pretty much shattered. Surprisingly, I am OK with this. It’s almost a relief. Maybe it was turning 55. Maybe it was a book I read. Whatever prompted the breakage, I’m not overthinking it. I’m just grateful for the epiphany.

Even without my pink lenses, my default reaction still looks for the warm and fuzzy side of any problem. But at least now I recognize my inclination and try to redirect. Difficult conversations?  I always had rosy ideas for those. My go-to attitude was always to make everyone else feel OK. Five decades of people-pleasing is a hard habit to shake. But I’m starting to adjust to my new non-rose-colored view. I guess most people just call it reality. I call it liberating. 

Now I realize that most of my life, I avoided difficult conversations with the intention of sparing others bad feelings or preventing an argument. I was a wimp. My rose-colored shades kept me weak and in pain. Today as I write this, I’m still in the beginning stages of recovery from my rose addiction, but I’m getting stronger. I like the view from where I am, without people-pleasing eyewear. It’s not perfect, but it’s a lot less painful. 

Difficult conversations? Now I just call it communication…

empowerment, Write6x6

The Reimagine Project Dares to Lead

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Dare-to-Lead-Cover-Facebook (1)I am proud. I am proud of the leadership of GCC faculty and staff. Over the past few months I have seen faculty and staff courageously offer their thoughts and opinions of how to improve our district, campus, and our classrooms. The work of GCC faculty and staff have resulted in committees being created, campus calls to action, panel discussions, task force, etc. I wish I had the time and space to call everyone’s attention to several things that represent the sheer amount of tenacity, passion, and courage on our campus. I only have the time and the space to focus on one thing, so I will focus on the Reimagine Project.

The Reimagine Project is a project that centrally focuses on encouraging faculty to reimagine their classrooms with high impact classroom strategies. I am one of the individuals responsible for teaching our cohorts a specific strategy and assisting them with implementation in the classroom. The program was launched this academic year. The purpose of the project is to encourage faculty to try these strategies so that we can create the best learning environments that we possibly can for our students.

The Reimagine Project is daring to lead because they are addressing an important question from Brene Brown’s book, Dare to Lead, which is: How do you cultivate braver, more daring leaders, and how do you embed the value of courage in your culture? Brown proposes doing it through vulnerability, values, trust, and learning to rise. Participants have to be vulnerable, which means being open to the process and trying new things in the classroom that they have never tried before. The program also encompasses all of GCC’s values which includes learning and quality. Participants also have to trust themselves and trust the facilitators guiding them through the experience. Finally, participants have to learn how to rise because they may experience failure along the way, and failure is not completely negative, it’s actually a lesson in disguise.

Shout out to to Jennifer Lane and Meghan Kennedy for creating the nuts and bolts of the program. Shout out to the institution for the support. Shout out to the participants who are engaged in the program. Shout out to the leads for guiding the participants through the strategy. I dare everyone to follow in their footsteps and dare to lead in the places and spaces of their profession. If you are already Daring to Lead, I encourage you to keep leading in this way, because you are having impact in the work that you do.

 

 

 

empowerment, Write6x6

Interviewing Tour

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The writing prompt for Write 6 x 6 this week asked this question:

What would you love to be able to do to improve yourself in relation to your job or to change your job?

I would love to interview teachers from different professions in MCCCD, the state of Arizona, the U.S. and around the world. I want to talk to teachers who teach higher education, or karate, or piano, or knitting. I want to get a collective sense of why they are teaching , the keys to successful teaching, and what they love most about it. I would love to pull from their experiences and get a sense of what drives them everyday.

I just watched a You Tube video that’s an oldie, but a goodie, from someone known as the Kid President. The videos on this channel never get old, and is usually a good go to when my work week has been crazy and I haven’t had enough time to work on my blog post. In the video Kid President’s Pep Talk to Teachers and Students! He asks a central question I’d ask in all of my interviews: What are you teaching the world?

Have you thought about that? What are you teaching the world? I would love to jump into that question and unpack it with others in an interview. I feel their answer would really inform mine and would help me to grow as a person and as a professional.