Pedagogy of the depressed

I was recently asked to provide, among other things necessary for a job application, a statement of my "educational philosophy." Being permanently and staunchly in opposition to insincerity, this particular stumbling block has delayed the job application for weeks. What could I say about my "educational philosophy" that won't come across as jaded or hateful, as my often misunderstood expression "I'll give you something to cry about"? Could I possibly quote J.M. Coetzee, as I often do, and say He continues to teach because it provides him with a livelihood; also because it teaches him humility, brings it home to him who he is in the world. The irony does not escape him: that the one who comes to teach learns the keenest of lessons, while those who come to learn learn nothing." Would that serve as "enthusiastic" enough to garner a English teaching job?



In preparation for writing what would possibly be the most excruciating single paragraph I'd ever had to write, I decided to research this topic by using the "search mail" function of my old school email address to see if I could cut and paste some enthusiastic phrases which could be creatively strewn together to form the picture of a potential new hire eager for the opportunity at some young new minds for molding. I found some papers that I had earlier written in more inspired times, which now seemed naive and, to use a loaded and pejorative term often scorned by educators, retarded. The files had been corrupted by the ravages of computer time and now looked like this:

> yes">/sPan>In the same sense, and being more realistic, schools> should embrace work experience and offer apprenticeship programs for> jobs of a professional nature, as well as credit for jobs that are not of this “professional”> natureI>We were only a few days upon that mountain when the weather> began to turn. We> had carried equipment to high camp and we were prepared to rest for a> day and acclimate. . sPAN DeFANGED_STYLE-"mso-spacerun:

And I scrolled through there to find little tidbits like the following:

If a student has> decided that he
or she would like to become an auto mechanic,
there> should be a state sponsored program that would enable the student to> pursue this.> this case, if history and English have
become useless to the student,> and that student can meet basic requirements in these areas, he should> be allowed to exclude those from his tailored curriculum.Allowing a student to> choose hi> s own path to learning would not only reduce drop-out rates, but perhaps>
it would also function to foster the mental health of the student, thus> promoting tolerance and reducing violence in> schools. In the same sense as freedom of choice will affect the student’s sPAN DeFANGED_STyLE-"mso-spacerun:

Words once inspired by a deep commitment to beliefs spontaneously generated through my mind's absorption in books and theory now had the ring of the naive beginner teacher. With a few years under my belt, now I wondered how many of my former students would have, had they been given the option, chosen to "exclude [English] from his tailored curriculum." I came to the conclusion that many would have, and this made me even more disillusioned with my profession.

I began drafting my "educational philosophy." "Let's face it," I began, "nowadays there are just too many kids who can't read that good." I sat and pondered the "defanged style" of my sophomoric composition (what does that even mean-- did my style lose its fangs?) Would my college freshman self have been proud of the me who now stands before a kindergarten class drawing a picture of an angry octopus on the chalkboard in front of a bunch of giggling children? Taking copious notes, staying in on a saturday night to write an analysis of a 17th century poem, my college self probably thought that by 29 he would be doing something quite different than this-- telling a room full of babies that if they don't watch out they're going to be "octopus food." My college self would have no way of knowing at the time that any animal, no matter how hastily drawn, can be made to look angry through the use of downward slanting eyebrows.

I read on, groping for inspiration. I have to finish this job application if I expect to eat, even though it was only this morning that I was looking at the laborer balancing a bucket of tools atop the bamboo scaffold outside (who makes about one fifth my salary) and thinking-- "wow, that looks nice." Nonetheless, I read on and I think, with reference to my former self "wow, I would hire me." Towards the endof the essay, I make some outrageous claims, fueled by my idealism and my literary diet, which probably included a lot of Walt Whitman.

I felt> older and more experienced than the rest of the freshmen.The things I learned in> school were insignificant compared to the lessons that that mountain had>
offered.<> it.
“Just do it”,> the billboard reads. My hope is that
through the> system of education that I have set forth, boundaries between
teachers> and students will be challenged and broken down.Through this, it may be> possible for individuals in society to more fully know each other, and> offer to each other the knowledge that has impacted our lives most> significantly. . sPAn DeFANGED STYLE-"mso-spacerun:

"Individuals in society to more fully know each other?" Who IS this person that screams at me from somewhere in the past, with a style so defanged? I remember when I first began my student teaching, I was powerfully enamored of some pretty lofty ideas, and once when I attempted to express them, the veteran teacher who was mentoring me proclaimed "that's sooo Ed-school" meaning that my ideas were dogshit in practice, although beautiful sounding on paper. I vowed I would defeat her. Have I defeated her? I have tried, and if anything keeps me going in this profession it is the idea that things will change. That and, despite everything, I still like kids. They are that voice which asks "why not?" and "hopes" that "boundaries between teachers> and students will be challenged and broken down" and ignores the condescending smile that is directed at them from the ranks of the jaded teachers with the downcast eyebrows, of which I am one.

I hope you, dear reader, find this funny. I know I do; because after all, if you can't laugh at yourself, well, you'll have to let the kids do it.