Happiness. It's relative.
I think I passed over to the other side.
It happened tonight with my 12 college students. “You’ll have to speak louder. Remember I can’t hear.” So the young woman in the corner spoke so I could hear her but I know she was probably shouting. “Yes, yes! I said. “Great point!” She beamed.
For years I’ve taught a course at the university where I went to school. I loved teaching. I taught a subject about which I have a lot of content expertise and experience. There was almost nothing better than teaching but I quit because I couldn’t hear some of the students and I couldn’t bring myself to ask them to speak louder. I couldn’t admit publicly that my hearing disability had become pretty severe but I also couldn’t fake it anymore. So, in my mind, the solution was to eliminate teaching from my repertoire of professional skills.
It was okay, I thought. I taught for a long time. Nothing goes on forever. It’s just one of those things I can’t do anymore. So I buried teaching in the coffin that was also holding things like having conversations at parties, talking to people on the telephone, and hearing people in a meeting who are not facing me directly. Surrender. I was all about surrender, graceful surrender. I folded my hands and waited for the world to be captioned.
And then a switch flipped.
I wanted to teach again. So this fall I signed a contract, created a new syllabus, and walked into a classroom with twelve slouching, tired students; and I thought, Jan, you can either go home right now or channel Stevie Nicks. And so I made a choice.
“Time makes you bolder/Even children get older/And I’m getting older, too.” [Landslide 1975]
I decided that I would love these students, I would greet them when they walked in the door. I would tell them what I know. I would set things up so they would discover things on their own. I would get them to laughing. I’d start some arguments. I’d insist and cajole and tease and do all the things I’m good at doing with students.
And I would tell them to speak up. Because what they have to say is important and I want to hear it, hear it. You know, really hear it. And not surrender.
No surrender. Not for me. Not yet.
Love this. Love, love, love it. So glad for you and for those students. What do you teach by the way?
i love everything about this jan, go you!
Good for you, Jan. Your students are very lucky and if they don’t speak up, you can tell them that I said to do it out of respect for you. 🙂 I admire your courage and appreciate your willingness to share yourself with us.