Have you watched Dead Poet’s Society? This is my favourite teaching movie by far, and today I was reminded of the classic scene where the young English teacher Keating has students come to the front of the classroom and one by one, stand on top of the teacher desk. The point of the exercise was to see the world from a new perspective (and possibly to flout the stodgy school rules to boot).
And no, I did not replicate this activity within my class. One of my students would likely get injured in the process and the school would end up being sued, leading likely to me losing my job. No, my job security is far too important for me to take such unnecessary risks, no matter how blog-worthy such an event would be.
Instead, today I decided to change my lunchtime routine. Ordinarily, I would go the science lunchroom and eat my lunch there, bathing in the entertaining conversation that inevitably results when my science colleagues congregate in a relaxed environment. Then, when the food is eaten and the conversation dies down (or moves in a direction that does not appeal to me), I would return to my classroom and get myself ready for the next lesson.
But this time, spurred on by some unknown impulse, I decided not to go back to my classroom but instead to go out into the hallway outside my door, which happens to be the intersection of two major hallways and a school exit. When the early bell rang, the area was suddenly flooded with students coming in from all directions, and I stood near the garbage cans, finding an eddy in the midst of a human torrent. And then I simply observed.
Ordinarily, this would not be something I would pursue, because I am not comfortable in the midst of crowds and the tumultuous noise that is associated with it. But today it seemed okay to me and I enjoyed the barrage of unfamiliar faces that flowed by me in a steady stream. I leaned up against the wall and enjoyed the vantage of my new perspective, much like a bird watcher safely ensconced within a bird blind, witnessing nature in all its wild glory.
Then something completely unexpected happened. I began to see students that I had taught in the previous semester, and I was receiving nods of recognition and more rarely, a hail of welcome. This is new territory for an introvert like me. I have become accustomed to being completely ignored by most students as I walk down the hallway, a teacher version of a wallflower. So, this recognition, this connection to humanity, was actually quite thrilling and affirming.
I have seen the world from a new perspective and I really enjoyed it. I will not make this a habit, that is for sure, but I am feeling quite compelled to try this every once in a while. I think Keating would be proud of me.
Phil Goldthorpe: Views from the Passenger Seat 