Teaching as Lighting Fires
It’s summer. Which means, among other things, that school is out.
Summer means different things to different people, of course. For some it’s about family vacation, for others it’s time at the beach or lake, for others – especially in the Northern Hemisphere – it means warm weather and longer days. But given that I have spent the overwhelming bulk of my life as a student, teacher, and/or parent of school-aged kids, summer has almost always been defined primarily as the time between the end of one school year and the beginning of another.
This summer – prompted in part, I’m sure, by my impending transition – rather than take a break from school, I have been thinking a lot about school: about what school is and should be, about what we hope from school, about what it means to teach, and more.
Along these lines, I thought I’d share a quotation I stumbled across some years ago that has been haunting me of late. (Haunting, of course, in a good way!) It’s by William Butler Yeats, who said, “Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire.”
This seems particularly pertinent to me as we live at a time of tremendous change. Many of the “majors” while I was in college may not exist when my kids go to school, yet much of education continues to be focused on mastering disciplines, passing tests, developing demonstrable pools of knowledge. But are we lighting fires, creating in them the capacity to learn on their own, sparking an interest in personal and communal growth? I’m not so sure.
The same is true in the seminary. We define most of what we do in discipline-specific terms. But if we continue that way – acting as if education is a transfer of knowledge – how do we respond to a changed and rapidly changing world and church? In this age of Google and Siri and the Kahn Academy, it seems to me that if we teachers lodge our credibility and competency primarily on the basis of the knowledge we possess and can give to our students, we are doomed.
So perhaps the number one thing we should be teaching – at every level – is the ability to learn and to keep learning, to sift through all the available information and judge which is good and helpful and relevant and which is simply just more information.
We should be moving, that is, from knowledge to skill – the ability and eagerness to do something with the knowledge that is available all around us. Or, as Yeats said it better: “Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire.”
I was an elementary educator for 30 years. Oh yes how education has changed, not to the bad but just different? In my opinion memorization is almost a thing of the past. Now you can fill your pail with the touch of your fingers. In fact, I am now a lay pastor and if it weren’t for the touch of the finger I would not have enough information in my pail! But as you say it is important to judge the information that is fit to use. Today’s technological world has lit my fire.
David, an old Metis Elder in Northern Alberta whom I knew forty years ago, and who was self educated with 2,000 books in his little house once told me something along the following lines:
“There’s schoolin and there’s experience, and when you put the two together you have an education.”
Today a Master’s degree is obsolete in less than seven years if one does nothing to keep current. This reality supports your point above; continuous learning is where it’s at.
First, thank you for continuing to write your columns!!!
Thank you for sharing Yeats’ quote: “Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire.” As I read it, I immediately began thinking about how people approach their faith and church, especially in light of worship, confirmation, adult education and Sunday school. I hope people don’t just come to worship on Sunday or adult education, confirmation or Sunday school to “fill the pail” but sometimes the reality of conversations says otherwise. It gives us good food for thought in how we approach education in the church – and is it indeed filling the pail or is it sparking a deep fire within to learn and ask questions about their faith and life as a disciple?
I like the analogy to church. I never could quite put it into words what annoyed me about Bible class at our church. Thanks.
I’m thinking about a sentence you wrote; “If education is a transfer of knowledge – how do we respond to a changed and rapidly changing world and church?”
I also remember words attributed to Luther: “This life therefore is not righteousness, but growth in righteousness, not health, but healing, not being but becoming. All does not gleam in glory, but all is being purified. This is not the end, but it is the road”.
What if seminaries included and or required experiences of ongoing spiritual formation for staff and students? For example: Spiritual direction, Five Day Silent Retreats, gatherings of small groups composed of students and staff to reflect on the week and pray together, sharing in a Five Day Academy of Spiritual Formation (An Upper Room Ministry)and more.
Thanks for your thoughts and site!
I just want to make my reply on ‘..it seems to me that if we teachers lodge our credibility and competency primarily on the basis of the knowledge we possess and can give to our students, we are doomed.” That was I believe and what I’ve been working trough. I’d like to share with you two great educators who mean the same: José Pacheco (from Escola da Ponte – Portugal) and Luigi Giussani (from The risk of education).
God bless you,
tanks,
Dener