The Greatest Storyteller & The Greatest Teacher

John 20:16

Jesus said to her, "Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?" Supposing Him to be the gardener, she said to Him, "Sir, if you have carried Him away, tell me where you have laid Him, and I will take Him away." Jesus said to her, "Mary!" She turned and said to Him in Hebrew, "Rabboni!" (which means, Teacher). Jesus said to her, "Stop clinging to Me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father; but go to My brethren and say to them, 'I ascend to My Father and your Father, and My God and your God.'"

Being a teacher candidate in a Catholic School allows a wonderful opportunity to view teaching, not just as a career, but as a vocation; a calling to live out the Gospel through one's work.

Living out the Gospel message can mean many things. Through our faith and how we live it, through the way we treat others, especially the most vulnerable in our society, and through the way we strive to be more and more like Jesus.

The focus here is on the way that Jesus taught. Today we talk a lot about "Teaching versus Telling" and The Socratic Method of teaching. Make no mistakes about it, Jesus was brilliant, and he wanted his followers to go out and evangelize, yet he was not a "telling" teacher who lectured until Gentile and Jew alike were comatose. What did Jesus do? Why would I tell you when he can show you?

"That same day Jesus went out of the house and sat by the lake. Such large crowds gathered around him that he got into a boat and sat in it, while all the people stood on the shore.  Then he told them many things in parables, saying: “A farmer went out to sow his seed.  As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path, and the birds came and ate it up.  Some fell on rocky places, where it did not have much soil. It sprang up quickly, because the soil was shallow.  But when the sun came up, the plants were scorched, and they withered because they had no root.  Other seed fell among thorns, which grew up and choked the plants. Still other seed fell on good soil, where it produced a crop—a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown.  Whoever has ears, let them hear.”

 The disciples came to him and asked, “Why do you speak to the people in parables?”

He replied, “Because the knowledge of the secrets of the kingdom of heaven has been given to you, but not to them." 

Now it would be self-indulgent to suggest that anyone but Jesus has the secrets to the kingdom of heaven, but teachers do have a wealth of knowledge and experience to share. Jesus shows us how to build the bridge between teacher and student; tell them a story! He understood that people do not learn by being told what to do. They learn when the lesson is embedded in a vehicle light and gentle enough to cross the fragile bridge of human relationships. Trying to enact a military operation to force knowledge is not only unsuccessful, but dangerous. The students will feel judged, guilty, the bridge will be broken and rebellion will ensue. 

The only way to engage students is to listen to them (this bridge is a two-way street), and like Jesus, withholding judgement by using fiction. We can use this powerful method as teachers to connect with our students and make sure that the seeds we sow fall on the good soil.

Why "Teaching Through Storytelling?"

When asked to pursue an area of passion for me in the realm of teaching, I first needed to ask myself the question: "What is my passion?" I know this is a question that I will need to get my students thinking about, so in order to do that, I better be able to model it.

So, "What is my passion?"

I love to write. Not the Nobel Prize kind of writing, although if they wanted to give me one I wouldn't say no, but writing is how I make my life meaningful.

What is the first thing you do when you want to remember something, or you want to try and organize your thoughts? For me, I need to write it down, but this is not enough. A collection of fragmented thoughts on paper is no more meaningful than a collection of fragmented thoughts spinning around in your head.

I once wrote a short poem about this:

I take a step into the new,

I hear the voice of a friend calling,

And hurry towards it.

It is dark and I cannot find my way.

The swirling darkness eludes my senses of their purpose.

I find myself smitten

With thoughts unwritten,

And realize the darkness

Is a collection of boxes,

Unopened, yet full

Of everything that might pull me

To my destination.

Understand that I am not a human,

But I am a purpose.

I am not a body,

But I am an understanding.

Take me lightly, if you dare

Take me hard, lay it all to bare

Open, on the table, unpacked, handle with care.

You now see that all that was dark,

You now see the animals out of the ark.

You now see who you really are,

On the pages that show your story thus far.

Read them, regard them,

Ponder them, assemble them,

But not too tightly.

What is written will never change,

Yet your prospect will attempt to feign

That this story is one of stone

When really it is of pages

Paper

Fragile, fleeting, forgetting,

But never completely.

The fragments of the remaining pages are enough

To stave off the darkness from its bluff

That it is strong,

That it is right

For it will never tear asunder

The pages of your light.

Like I said, we can't all be Wordsworth or Shakespeare (although I do share the same first name as those fine men), but this poem is all about walking out of the darkness of disassociated thoughts and walking, no running, into the light or connectivity of thought, experimentation, willingness to take risks, and trying to hold onto all that is good and meaningful in our lives.

This is the type of teacher I want to be. I don't want to teach a "3-part lesson plan," I want to teach a story with a beginning, middle and an third part that is not an end, but that serves as a new beginning. For me, a lesson is a story, and my students are the authors. I am merely a mentor to help keep on them on track.

This blog will be a muse of sorts to throw some of my ideas out there and share the ideas of others that want passionate classrooms where learning is all about asking questions, because an answer is a period that ends thinking. 

BUT a question mark is the most beautiful punctuation mark because somewhere between the curve and the point is an empty space that doesn't mean "I don't know" but rather "I want to know."