each one teach one

As the daughter of a teacher I’ve always had a respect for the amount of time and dedication it takes to do such an important job well.  In the past when I’ve reflected on the reasons why I might not be a good teacher, a lack of patience is usually the first thing that comes to mind.  Recently, working in capacity building, I catch myself asking what exactly I have to teach some one else.  As I realized last week, an equally important question is how to teach someone else.

I can vividly remember my first-year undergraduate inquiry paper that was returned to me swimming in a sea of bright red ink.  Scrawled almost illegibly on the inside cover was the following advice: “your writing would benefit greatly from the complete works of George Orwell, available at Mills library”.  As a functionally literate person, my ego took so much of a hit looking at that bleeding paper that I promptly cursed my professor and though I returned to Mills library countless times before graduating, I never once sought out that collection.

In our office we have an intern who is a young lawyer hoping to soon secure his first ‘real’ law job.  (yes, my air quote definition equating ‘real’ with ‘paid’ is impoverished and technically disqualifies my current work, but I’m trying to write more succinct posts!) Last week we were working on a policy comment and for once it was clear to me that I had some relevant skills to share.  Reflecting on it during one of the many periods when I wait for my impossibly slow computer to load something on the impossibly slow (or dysfunctional) internet, it occurred to me what a disservice it is to question whether I have something to teach someone.  We all know something that someone else could benefit from, hence the adage that I’ve used for the title of this post.  It’s only that sometimes it takes some work to determine what that is.

Cognizant that feedback I received ten years ago continues to haunt my writing, I asked myself: how do you give criticism and make revisions in a way that encourages someone to ask questions, try again and do better?

In this case, I decided to focus on the most important skill I thought I had to impart: the ability to develop an argument.  I asked him to consider the reasons we were writing and to focus on how to achieve that objective.  Then I framed my comments around how to build upon what he got right.  Did I do a good job?  I can’t say and although I’ve asked for feedback, he’s been silent.   Unfortunately, ‘wiki-good-teacher’ yields possibly the worst search results of all time.  Perhaps I should find it reassuring that the formula for a good teacher can’t be so easily reduced.  But I'm still interested.   And so my interest in teaching becomes an interest in learning.  If you have some thoughts on what makes a good teacher, I'd love to hear them.