I was in the shower earlier, and was thinking about the meaning of the title I have given this blog: “Walls Finally Fall”. I dimly recall having heard this portion of a line from a song a long time ago, when I first set this blog up; it was playing on the radio station I had logged in to.
The meaning of the title, I have increasingly found, changes for me depending on what I come to writing thoughts down with. On some issues, the walls I envision go no further than the four other people in my family. On others, they reach out to what I do for a living, my career and current (pre)occupation.
I am an educator, a teacher, a “facilitator”, as the snobbishly educational would say. I facilitate learning and other wonderful things like that. But I have come to realise that my job involves much more than this. I encourage students to come in during their study halls (although sometimes when they want to come in I have to turn them away because of a meeting or something like that); I answer questions as honestly and as frankly as I can (although they can be quite, quite embarassing sometimes) because my youth need to know these things and they’ll learn about the things in college – some preparation now does not hurt, in most situations; I spend time with my students, even though I’ve been busy many afternoons with rushing off to class and so on; I have listened to my students; and most significantly, I have always tried to facilitate self-acknowledgement and recognition.
I don’t know what brought this post on, except it irks me when people think teaching is just about classroom – or “instructional” – hours only, and neglect what is actually going on. The goodness, the love, the care, the time and the energy… and it annoys and saddens me even more when students begin to see it that way too.
Ah, something to mull over some more…
Walls Finally Fall 