Teaching... Part 2

Well, I finally took up the mantel two years ago, and stepped into the classroom as the homeroom teacher in a small Christian school. I thought I had a pretty good idea of what teaching was. I had spent years actually watching and studying the things that teachers did, how they did it, what they didn’t do. I thought that I was ready.

Fortunately, I was wrong. Fortunately, I was wrong here, at this school, or I might have spent many years striking out without realizing it. I might have just kept on offering information and testing instead of trying to educate. I still feel the occasional pangs of guilt for having to learn such lessons at the expense of my class, but I suppose that teachers have to learn on someone.

You see, here at the Garden School, the concept of education we ascribe to is a more holistic approach. Sure, a student needs to know basic information… geography, math, spelling, etc… but we also value integrity, goodness, truth, faith, prayer, and other spiritual disciplines. We recognize that raising up leaders takes mentoring… not just information. We want to be a part of sculpting beautiful souls, and not just beautiful minds.

As teachers, we seek to impart a piece of our lives to our students… give of ourselves… something that might echo across generations. Class time might consist of a lecture, or a poignant story, or open discussion or a sermon-et… but it is always a lesson that holds some value… something that I hope will leave an impression on a young leader’s heart.

For me, this is inspired teaching. I am not sure that “teaching” is even the appropriate word for this… but it is the word we’ve got. In fact, maybe the word doesn’t matter and neither does a carefully parsed definition. This is a lifestyle; a heavy burden and a deep privilege. And it feels so, so good… to teach like this.

Teaching... Part 1

What is teaching? What does it mean “to teach?”

In some fashion, I have spent more than 20 years of my life trying to answer just these questions. That is, SO FAR, I have spent more than 20 years trying to figure this out.

The irony is that I have carried this burden since before I really, actually had any inkling of what was involved. When I was probably about 8 or 9, I began to feel that I wanted to be a teacher. Sure, I was a public school kid, and I had already experienced the classroom with several different teachers. However, this wasn’t just the feeling that “Gee, teachers sure are nice! That’s what I wanna be!”

Instead, as much as I can remember, it was natural. It just seemed like a shoe that fit. It was a sort of confident assumption, something that could not be reasoned but was surely true.

Years passed, many people in many ways reinforced this. Sometimes, I told them I wanted to be a teacher and they would say something like, “That fits you. I’ll bet you’ll be a good one.” Or at other times, people would listen to me or talk with me, and then suggest, “You know, you should be a teacher.”

My gifting and interests also reinforced this vocation. I have a quick mind, and I read well, with a strong memory. I am naturally confident in front of a group (or at least I can appear that way), and I can usually explain pretty complex things in a way most folks can chew on. It seems like the stuff of teaching, no?

So, yes, I am pretty sure that I am a teacher at heart. But this still doesn’t exactly answer our question… namely, what is teaching?

Good Walk Ruined? Part 3

The game itself… caught me unawares.

I had all sorts of notions of what it would be like. I mean, I had seen the movies where guys wearing really ugly pants cursed violently and threw their clubs. Some guys grabbed their clubs and snapped them in fury across their knees. You know, the frustration, the anger… agony or ecstasy riding on every shot… that “ruined walk” we were talking about. However, what I came to understand about the game, was so much more than that. What I came to realize about the game is so simply said… and holds so much weight…

The next shot is all that matters. This was a very, very profound realization for me. Sure, you have to be practiced and you have to understand the rules. You have to have technique. You have to be equipped with a full range of the proper gear. You need to have some knowledge of the course. All of that is so very true.

However, when you stand over that ball… when your body and mind are cocked and loaded, all that matters is hitting the ball right then and there. The last shot is in the books. It is history. You make adjustments. You learn from your mistakes. You play the ball where it lies.

When I began to understand this, the game just sort of… opened up. It took on a transcendent quality. It became a metaphor for life. When I realized this, when this clicked, the game became more than a walk in ugly pants. I realized that I could really grow to love this game… that it was becoming more the “game of kings” that I had heard about.

You see, in life, we all have a past. All of us. I don’t know anyone who doesn’t have things which bring them pleasure when they recollect them, and those things they might wish they could forget; experiences we would ache to re-create, and those shots we would like to have back.

The past is the past, though, and all we have is this moment… today. Yesterday might have been a heartbreaker, maybe this morning was off in the rough, you might have blown it even just an hour ago, but each interaction, each decision brings opportunity for redemption. You have to allow your experience to color your choices, but you have to live in the here and now. You have to focus and take THIS shot. You have to play life how it lies.

And this is the way in which I think golf becomes the “game of kings.” I used to have that dismissive, cynical attitude about this phrase, too, because I associated golf with pomp and the stereotypical, condescending upper classes. So naturally, the self-inflated royalty would gravitate to this kind of game, wouldn’t they? They of the exclusive, racist, sexist golf culture! Pompous jerks! Ha!

I was wrong primarily because I did not understand how profound the game is, and the corresponding nature of true leadership. A leader is not perfect, and all of his decisions are not perfect, but a great leader is not held hostage by his past. He must make the best decision that he can, every time, with the skills, wisdom, discipline, experience, and resources at his disposal. The situations that he finds himself confronted with are rarely simple, but mostly complex and difficult. The point is, though, that the leader still has to lead… he still has to take the next shot…

And it is these insights... these realizations… about the game that make me think it is worth playing. Golf can be overdone, it can be all of those negative things we sometimes envision about it, BUT it can also be a reflection of something larger and even noble. It is these attributes that make we want to get on the driving range, and onto the fairway.

FORE!

A Good Walk Ruined? Part 2

As the tournament drew near, I had to deal with the reality that I had to play with a group of guys with much more experience than I. I was worried over whether my team was going to consist of ultra-competitive guys who would grow quickly frustrated with the inept new guy. I was worried with even being able to hit the ball off the T… much less working from the fairway and putting… I was really a wreck worrying over this.

When I finally arrived, with my rented clubs and my company shirt, the team was a fun, positive, very gregarious group of guys. They were thrilled to offer tips and see me show improvement through the day. We played a type of game in which our score is a team score (not scored individually). So, if I were to hit a bad shot, it would not effect the score of the team. This also proved to be of great relief to me.

Once the anxiety was set aside, I began to experience the game. It is funny how much more we experience in life if we let go of anxiety, isn’t it? Another blog for another time!!

But as I began to breathe the morning air… smell the course… drink in the vibrant fairways… feel the spongy greens under my feet… not just as an observer, but a participant… it was more than I would have expected. It was more than a game, but an experience.

So in this way, I was getting a feel for this “walk ruined.” It was so, so far from that. I could begin to see how, in some way, these courses could hold the same therapeutic value you find in Japanese meditative gardens. The crafted greenery… the beautiful scenery… all of it. But really, this is only about the environment, or the playing field, and not the game itself.

The game itself, though, is something different altogether…