This brief event really got me thinking about the conditions that occurred for a child— on his vacation day—to take the amount of time that he took to be inquisitive and educate himself on something that is clearly not a part of the formal curriculum, nor anything his class had been learning about. Having adults and peers who value learning that takes place outside of the classroom is critical for children so that they can grow up to be life-long learners. If my wife had not been so excited for our son about the strange mold, or if he didn’t have a science teacher who took the time on a day off to respond and share his interest, I'm sure his curiosity would have waned.
This moment inspired me to consider the real purpose behind our work as educators and what we get to do every day as teachers, coaches, and administrators. It is an incredibly lofty aspiration to suggest that the purpose of our schools and education, generally, is to lead students to develop an innate interest and passion for that in which they are engaged in the moment, whether any of their subjects, the arts, or their athletic pursuits. Why, though, should we not attempt such an ideal?
Where Passion and Work Intertwine
Many years ago I spoke with David Whyte, author of The Heart Aroused, about the increasing distance between one’s vocation and avocation. He surmised that the increasing lack of connection between colleagues, and the lack of imagination that permeates today’s business environment, has, in part, led to this rift. I propose that a significant charge to any school leader is to close the gap, for both students and teachers alike, between what is a chore and what is done with enjoyment, imagination, creativity, and zeal. The challenge is to lead and teach where all the participants truly feel joy in their contributions to the institution, and a personal investment in realizing its vision.The purpose of school is to begin to merge the academic work and the energy toward starting to engage intellectually, not just for the external awards such as being on the honor roll but for the sake of learning. No easy task, I must say, and certainly not something most of us achieved at an early age but a goal nevertheless.
In our discussion, Whyte referenced one of my favorite poems from one of my favorite poets, Robert Frost’s Two Tramps in Mud Time.
In the prose, the narrator is chopping wood outside of his home in the woods, and while he is not a woodsman, he is clearly enjoying the work, the spring weather, and being outside. At that point, two tramps who are lumberjacks come walking by and he knows that they are going to ask to chop the wood for pay. He also knows that chopping wood is their right and not his because, for them, it is a vocation and for him, an avocation; he will therefore not be able to refuse them. This leads to Frost pondering his purpose, and in part, what I hope for our students. Among the last lines Frost writes:
But yield who will to their separation,
My object in living is to unite
My avocation and my vocation
As my two eyes make one in sight.
It is here when he writes that his “object in living is to unite my avocation and my vocation” that it’s clear that being a poet, for him, is the blending of that which he loves to do and that which he must do. This is what we hope for in our students—that the blending of the work that needs to be done starts to meld into something that is done for the sake of intellectual curiosity and fulfillment and potentially a life-long interest.
In Practice: Developing a Love for Learning
This year, I started an optional course for ninth graders (our seniors), Innovation and Entrepreneurship. Ten students studied business models and design thinking and learned to develop a business canvas and a product or a service, among other things. There are no grades, and no tests or quizzes. There are, however, high expectations for preparation for each class, and there is homework between each class that is not insignificant.The students have been unfailingly conscientious and have prepared diligently and thoroughly each week in anticipation of our work together, and with no hint of a carrot or a stick, other than the stigma of being ill-prepared. Yes, it has certainly helped that the course was optional and so it appealed to their already-existing interest in the subject matter, but their interest has not waned, even as the class has gotten more challenging, and the expectations higher as the year has gone on.
Will these students grow up to be the next generation of entrepreneurs? Who knows? What is clear, however, is that despite no extrinsic motivators, the students are engaged and stepping up in a significant way as they are somehow feeling motivated by doing what they are interested in, and therefore not having it feel so much like work.
In the end, it may just lead them to become the next great entrepreneur, scientist, or even Pulitzer Prize-winning poet, without it ever even feeling like work.