years, it has become the least satisfying piece for me, and, I am convinced,
for many of my students as well. You see, my heart, and theirs, does not
reside in the sphere of “hows” and “whats.” I am a fish out of water, and
my students know it. I resist their understandable attempts to push me into
the role of an expert, a know-it-all problem-solver, in spite of the fact that I
have not stepped into a public school classroom in over 30 years. As a
teacher, I want to lead with my strength. As a philosopher of education, I
would much rather entice students to ask the above types of questions,
because these are the inquiries that I believe deliver a much-needed sense
of proportion to their professional existence. They add a sense of depth,
perspective, and distance. They have the potential of profoundly touching,
and changing, teachers’ inner and outer lives. When asked authentically
and engaged honestly, these questions run the risk of surfacing professional
frustrations and doubts, it is true. But, more important, they possess the
power to revive buried hopes and activate faded dreams.