My gift as a teacher is the ability to "dance" with my
students, to teach and learn with them through dialogue and
interaction. When my students are willing to dance with nee,
the result can be a thing of beauty. When they refuse to
dance, when my gift is denied, things start to become
messy: I get hurt and angry, I resent the students-whom I
blame for my plight-and I start treating them defensively, in
ways that make the dance even less likely to happen.
But when I understand this liability as a trade-off for my
strengths, something new and liberating arises within me. I
no longer want to have my liability "fixed"-by learning how
to dance solo, for example, when no one wants to dance
with me-for to do that would be to compromise or even
destroy my gift. Instead I want to learn how to respond more
gracefully to students who refuse to dance, not projecting
my limitation on them but embracing it as part of myself.
I will never be a good teacher for students who insist on
remaining wallflowers throughout their careers-that is
simply one of my many limits. But perhaps I can develop
enough self-understanding to keep inviting the wallflowers
onto the floor, holding open the possibility that some of
them might hear the music, accept the invitation, and join
me in the dance of teaching and learning.
TURNING AROUND TO DISCOVER THE WORLD
When way closes behind us, it is tempting to regard it
simply as the result of some strategic error: had I been
smarter or stronger, that door would not have slammed shut,