26 December 2006

No More Trenches


I was at a lovely party the other evening. Actually, it was a Christmas Eve Party for Jews. I think I remember that the title of the party was something to the effect of “Hey, he was a Jew.” As I said, it was a lovely party: the food and drink were delicious, the home elegant and comfortable, and the hosts and guests amiable, voluble and articulate. I would have stayed longer, but the twelve year old was baby-sitting and needed to be relieved. I commented to someone who would listen that when my children are all grown, I will be too old to enjoy such gatherings. But I was roundly contradicted, and I accepted the critique with pleasure.

One conversation in which I engaged with interest developed over the use of the term ‘in the trenches’ when referring to the position of teachers in the schools. I said, almost apologetically, that teachers often use the term ‘in the trenches’ with a certain degree of pride, and that I hated the place of that pride. “In the trenches” is superior to being, well, in the offices, being in the administration building, being in the ivory towered Universities. I could not fathom why teachers (and I am a teacher) would want to consider themselves as somehow superior for adopting such a pose? How does such a position portray our work, our students, ourselves? How does it define our work? I objected strongly to the metaphor. I still object. The image concerns a position in war, and I do not want to consider that we teachers exist in a deadly combat zone, with bombs and bullets whizzing over our heads as we huddle down safely out of range. Or it is that that we periodically from the trenches raise our heads (and weapons—ah, what would those be, texts and lectures and learnings?) to fire ammunition at the enemy in our attempt to defeat them. And would those enemies be the students in our classes, or the world in which the school and our classrooms are nested? I think in these times one can get arrested for such behavior.

The image “in the trenches” suggests that the occupants of the school in a precarious and hostile position, and positions the teacher as engaged in deadly battle. Who would such fardels bear?

I suggested that teachers ought to assume the moral high ground: that what the teacher does is to stand ethically in the world hardly hiding in the trenches, but standing proudly as a model for the degraded world. The teacher should think of herself as standing as the prophet might stand in the midst of a corrupt and corrupting society serving as its moral exemplar and harsh critic. Yes, indeed, I said. As a prophet. Abraham Joshua Heschel says, “The prophet’s word is a scream of the night. While the world is at ease and asleep, the prophet feels the blast from heaven.” Now, this is a metaphor appropriate to the image of the teacher: the moral exemplar for the degraded society and the classroom as the place of ethics and life. Here let the teacher stand tall and create the seeds of a better world. Heschel again: [T]o be a prophet means to challenge and to defy and to cast out fear.” To be teacher is to be prophet. Yes, indeed.

As I said, the party was lovely.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home