It’s hard for any of my friends or students who have spent any time with me not to have heard me talk about my discovery of Heidegger’s philosophy and its impact on my thought. I found Heidegger through a podcast lecture series by Bert Dreyfus, a professor at Berkeley (listen to his lectures here). His courses on existentialism and God and Society are excellent too. Especially for the layman. No matter.
I was struck by the connection between Heidegger and the thought of the great educational philosopher, John Dewey. Dreyfus made a point about the connection between Dewey and Heidegger several time in his lecture series on Division 1 of Being and Time. Bill Blattner also makes the point clearly in his commentary on Being and Time. Since Dewey is the educational philosopher, I’ve been led to think more about what Heidegger’s phenomonology might have to do with education and teaching.
Heidegger’s work on fundamental ontology (a la Division 1 of Being and Time) and existentialism (a la Division 2 of Being and Time) offer many insights. His discussion on mood and disposedness (or as Macquarrie and Robinson mistranslate, state-of-mind) seem important to me for understanding classroom situations. The mood of a classroom looked at as something shared, as part of being-in-the-world, gives the teacher hints at how to manage a class. It doesn’t involve getting into some inner feelings any one student has, but rather getting a feel for the mood in the room and how kids are engaging with it, and making the right decisions based upon that evidence. There’s definitely something here that needs exploring.
His ideas in Division 2 on anticipatory resoluteness are also welcome as a teacher. To stand one’s ground and press in to possibilities as a teacher requires resoluteness. There is “a way one does things” as a teacher in any school — it is the culture of teaching. This is how Heidegger’s “the one” (das Man) would teach. Not to fall into “the one’s” way of doing things requires flexibility, resoluteness, and an awareness of why one does anything one does in a classroom. A boring, maybe even competent, teacher makes “the One” their hero.
This brings me to Dreyfus’s comparison of Heidegger with Aristotle’s phronimos. The phronimos (”common-sense man”) has an ability to size-up a situation and do what’s best. This can’t be taught. Instead it is a skill acquired. A good teacher is a phronimos of the classroom. She does not walk in with a set of rules about how the lesson will go, but instead draws on her experience and instinct to do what is best given the situation. What is best cannot be governed by rules. One just has to trust one’s instinct and make the best decision. It’s a risk.
Three selections from an interview with Dreyfus show this better than I can.
[T]eaching is peculiar but not probably so peculiar in that there really isn’t anybody telling you the rules to start out with, whereas if you’re a driver, or a chess player, or learning most things when you’re a grownup, you start by being told what are the things you’re supposed to pay attention to and what you are supposed to do when these things happen. But nobody told me that about teaching and I’m very suspicious if anybody goes around trying to tell anybody that about teaching. It would be a trap, because you might just get stuck there. People get stuck in what Stuart [Dreyfus's brother] calls being “just competent,” which means following the normal rules and doing the normal things. Well, in teaching there aren’t any rules, so in learning to teach you’re sort of like a child who also, at first, has to just do it and see what works and what doesn’t.
So, there I was doing things — I started out, I think, very badly as a TA at Harvard. I had in mind exactly what I wanted the students to learn, and I had a plan for the whole hour, and all this energy that I felt, and intensity, was to make sure that they got exactly where I wanted them to get in exactly the time I wanted them to get there. That was not the way to do it. You’ve got to take advantage of the accidents that come along, and follow them.
Falling into “the One” as a teacher may make a “just competent” teacher, but not a memorable, life-changing one. It also makes one fear one’s mistakes (”I didn’t have a rule for that! I’m a bad teacher!”). Obviously we should embrace our mistakes and learn from them.
When discussing why he is a good teacher, he says:
I’m told again and again — I won outstanding teaching awards at MIT and here [Berkeley] — that what I do is I involve the students in a joint process of learning. And I’m not faking it. I’m always learning. Again, you don’t figure these things out, they just happen. I didn’t say to myself, “Ah, teaching is really learning.” Oddly enough, Heidegger says exactly that. But I just wouldn’t want to teach if I weren’t learning something at every lecture.
I know that I learn more teaching than I ever have reading or even being a student. I find that I learn things about ideas and texts I never knew I knew until I started teaching about them. Likewise, the kids always put a spin on things I’d never come to because I’m trapped by my preconceptions of things. As Dreyfus notes, learning should be a joint endeavor between student and teacher (Freire stresses this as well). Teaching is learning.
One final comment by Dreyfus about risk:
But another thing I was going to mention is this business about risks. You have to just take a risk. You’re there in front of the class and if you get it wrong, you don’t want to be embarrassed or defensive or try to browbeat the students into thinking you’re right, like some of my colleagues do. I think I’m really teaching well when I come in the next lecture and spend the first ten or fifteen minutes at least confessing the things that I got wrong and that the students in office hours and the lecture were on the right track. I think that’s important for them to see that they can contribute new ideas. But I don’t do it because it’s important for them to see it, I do it because I have to straighten out what I messed up.
You’ve got to be able to take the risks and you don’t want to ask yourself, “What’s a rule that will enable me to keep from making that mistake next time?” This is a very important idea of Stuart’s which, I think, nobody else has. People think — you read about it — if something goes wrong, you try to formulate some kind of rule that says don’t do that sort of thing in that sort of situation again, and then you try to follow that rule. Well, that will make you rigid and routine and standard, and you’ll be stuck at competence. So, what should you do? Well, this is what Stuart says and it probably is right. You simply feel bad about your mistakes and feel good about what works and dwell on that. The really great basketball players, or musicians, or whatever, say that they do that, and I know in teaching I do it.
So how does one become a good teacher? Writing lesson plans a certain way? Reading books about how to teach? No! One becomes a probably dull and merely competent teacher that way. One becomes a good teacher by jumping in, being reflective, learning from one’s accidents (which are a gift), and developing one’s skill. Teaching is learning.
Perhaps this is why my patience runs thin for the formulas presented on how to teach well. It really is simple — give yourself to your students, your craft, and your learning. Make a commitment. Be resolute, but flexible. Feel bad about your mistakes, good about victories, and keep learning. Realize there is no one way to do things. Nothing is set in stone in teaching besides maybe caring for your kids.
As a final note, Dreyfus and Blattner are clear about the connection between Heidegger and Dewey. I’ve also been dwelling on one between Heidegger and Carl Rogers. Rogers also, like Heidegger, pleads with his readers to focus on the phenomenon. The phenomonon is the best teacher; not theory, not rules. In turn, Rogers suggests that the best way to be a therapist or a teacher is to trust one’s instinct and experience, to be oneself, not to dwell on one’s mistakes, and to open-mindedly and self-deprecatingly keep at it. As this happens, you’ll develop as a person and practitioner. Importantly, to be oneself is how one makes connections with students. They know when you fake it.
The connections between all these thinkers should be clear enough. They all read a lot of Kierkegaard, for one. I could go on much longer about this and I probably will at some future date… but I’ve got some lesson plans to write, which is kind of funny.
Filed under: reflections | No Comments »