The Silent Lessons We Teach
Every teacher is a lesson in motion. But what lesson are we teaching—intentionally or otherwise? This post is not so much about teaching as ‘being a teacher’. I fear my perspective will come across as pious or self-righteous, which is certainly not my intent. Instead, I'm in pursuit of an ideal.
I’m an idealist, not because I believe that living an ideal life is possible but because a life without ideals feels aimless - accidentally mediocre. I position ideals as targets of pursuit, not measuring sticks for the critique of those otherwise inclined.
We must be careful with ideals, the practice of mine should not cost you yours. In an interconnected, co-dependent world, our ideals should unite, nourish and inspire all.
Integrity as a Core Ideal
Integrity and love stand at the forefront of my personal ideals. Having been raised in hippie missionary communes throughout the world, social and theological idealism was rife in my childhood but was sometimes unsupported by the rigorous alignment of integrity. Perhaps, raising the banner of integrity has been my reaction to the lack of integrity I’ve witnessed: pastors preaching moral purity while engaging in promiscuity and deception, calls for financial communalism amidst acts of fraud and embezzlement, proclaiming love above all other virtues while acting in self-interest. My upbringing instilled a deep devotion to these ideals, and I felt betrayed and upset by these examples of misconduct. My response has become to say less but strive to live in full alignment with my words.
This also means bringing my words into alignment with my actions, which requires honesty with myself and others. I would not say that I practice ‘radical honesty’, which can often harm others in the name of virtue, but I’m very careful with my words. For example, I nurture a deep love affair and relationship with the natural world; in spite of this, I know that my actions cause harm. I know that the car I drive poisons the air, my plastic-wrappers choke the seas, and the phone I use played a role in the mastectomy of mountains. In these cases, I am honest about my participation in the problem, rather than presenting myself as a white-washed ecologist.
Parenting By Example
In spite of my best intentions, I wasn’t always a very good dad. I spent many of my parenting years employing a traditional model of advice-giving. My relationship with my daughter has been a deep one for both of us, with so many sweet moments shared together as she grew in age. In her teenage years, she struggled with deadlines and time management, and as a scholarship student in the exclusive private school where my wife and I taught, there was a certain external pressure to bring her academic shortcomings into alignment with expectations. This occasionally resulted in me amplifying the pressure I felt for her to perform, reframed as fatherly care and advice. Of course, this caused her to avoid me, so opportunities for corrective coercion would take place in the car on the way to school. This became disastrous for all of us, starting each day with battles that left us all frustrated and drained before the day had even begun.
After about three months of daily battles, I remember sitting at an intersection a few blocks from school, staring at the red light.
The pressure inside the car began to build. “I don’t know how to ‘Just do it!’”, my daughter pleaded. Something clicked inside of me as I thought of all of the things in my own life that I wanted to change. I had become deeply unhappy with myself - ugly, rudderless, reactionary, and stale - and I’m sure that much of this frustration was poisoning my interactions with my daughter. I hated myself for projecting these frustrations onto her, hurting the one I love, and in a moment of clarity something inside of me shifted - an embodied experience of re-alignment.
The light turned green and words fell out from me, “We can’t do this anymore. I hate myself for the division I’m creating and I can see that my advice isn’t working for you. I’m going to shut up now. I’m not going to give you any more advice or instruction, unless you ask. Instead, I’m going to change all the things I don’t like about myself - starting right now. I hope that, by living these changes, you’ll learn from my example. All I ask is that you spare me some attention.”
A Fulcrum of Change
From that moment, I began to change all the things I didn’t like about myself.
Having been a chef for many years, I loved to grill and cook meat, but having studied food policy I was opposed to the cruelty of the meat industry. That night I became a vegan (after two years as a strict vegan, I now also eat eggs, dairy, honey, and fish). At one time, I was an expert in craft distillation, holding a PhD in gastronomy and working for several years in one of the world’s most prestigious distilleries. That night I stopped drinking alcohol.
I had grown overweight and lazy; that night I began to exercise again, working my way back towards the athlete I had once been years before as a professional scuba diver. Having been raised in a spiritual tradition, I maintained a non-religious spiritual ethos but hadn’t practiced in years. That night I lay prostrate on the floor and surrendered myself, rebuilding my spiritual and meditative practice.
These are a few of the major changes that I made, but there were many more subtle ones.
Transformation that Resonates
The maths of personal transformation is non-linear, synergistic - producing results greater than the sum of the parts.
From the barrenness of frustrated anger and depression, joy began to sprout in my heart like grass after a winter thaw. I began to find value in myself, where there had only been feelings of worthlessness. My relationship with my wife shifted from habitual to relational; harmony and love began to resonate like it had when we first met almost twenty years prior. I shed about thirty kilos in four months and a new energy began to vibrate within me, reverberating outwards.
What began as a trail-blazing exercise on behalf of my daughter became a boon for me and all those around. In my classroom, my lessons began to crackle with life, as my students connected to my energy. A buzz spread through the student body, “Dr. Bromley had a glow-up!” More than the knowledge and skills I taught, my students became infected by a deeper, more transformative sort of learning. Something in the air held their attention in a way I previously could not. Students began asking deep questions, gravitated into orbits around me, not for any reason I could put my finger on. I found that being can be greater than doing; that behaviour is the highest form of communication.
Bringing Ideas to Life
It’s been a decade since that day in the car and my daughter has since told me that the example I provided has been one of the most impactful forces in her life. I’m not here to proclaim any sort of self-righteousness, I continue to be flawed and I am profoundly aware of the many ways I fall short of my own expectations. Instead, I want to convey that this process has taught me about the importance of a lived example.
Our brains are magic-making machines. All objects made by humans first existed as ideas. From an idea, we are able to construct form, bringing thoughts into the material world. This is the pathway of all objects and conscious actions.
When, from the content of a person’s life, someone produces an example, then others are able to quickly replicate the process. It took Fryderyk Chopin his entire life to produce his music, and now there are ten-year-olds who play his compositions with a perfection that, perhaps, even he would not be able to replicate. Following an example is the quickest way for us to learn; we can then iterate upon those examples, incorporating our own ideas or integrating other examples to create something new. When someone comes along who transcends our known examples, we call it genius.
Teaching as a Living Example
When a teacher steps onto the stage of a classroom they place themselves into the vocation of being a living example. We most value those teachers who have inspired us, and therefore we place ourselves under an obligation to inspire others. Inspiration is not often found in knowledge, but in the framing and delivery of that knowledge; insights arising from an introduction to a new paradigm, passionate narratives, and the magical allure of charisma.
When we inspire students, they may also imitate other aspects of our lives. The example a teacher presents is more than their knowledge - in more and less subtle ways, all aspects of that person’s life are being transmitted. I would contend that, if one is not prepared to model such an example, or be subject to such scrutiny, then they should refrain from positioning themselves as teachers. This may seem like a ruthlessly high standard, but it would be naive to believe that our unspoken flaws do not also register upon the sensitive canvas of our children’s innocence. There is more to the energy of human connection than that which we can currently measure or understand.
The Unseen Curriculum
We are constantly modelling our behaviours, and as we hold influence over our students’ lives then we are responsible for the qualities we transmit. ‘Teachers’, as inferred by the name, should be held to account in all aspects of their lives; how they cope with stress and frustrations, the quality of their health, the kindness of their words, the balance of their thoughts, and the virtues of their pursuits. In all ways, at all times, we must live lives of exemplary integrity because who we are often speaks more loudly than what we say. How we live outside of the classroom radiates within its walls.
Observational learning and imitation are fundamental for humans, and as specialists in learning, teachers must be responsible for all the transmissions they exude which influence their students - the precious children of others. As our youth are our future, the qualities of our teachers are of paramount importance. Teachers must represent the very best of humanity, not through preaching or didactic moralism, but through silently lived examples boldly unspoken. Clearly, we have a very long way to go to bring such a notion to fruition.
I hold this expectation of all individuals who place themselves into vocations of moral and ethical leadership. Our religious leaders, judges, and presidents (for example) must be held to a level of integrity above our expectation of others, representing the gold standard of humanity to inspire us to become what we yet are not.
The Legacy of a Teacher
If we hold educators to the highest standard, what structures could be put in place to support that expectation? What would it look like to hire, train, and develop teachers as models for humanity first, educators second? And, if children were immersed in schools surrounded by the very best of us, what might be the qualities of our students upon their graduation? Saturated with virtue, what could our future become?
The 'stage of the classroom' is a wonderful description. Our pupils really do soak up every element of the teacher standing in front of them. And their eye for detail is unrivalled. Mis-matched earrings? They will spot that in seconds. Applying these physical details to the impact that we have in shaping our pupils' lives. Just so important. An excellent post, shared with such raw self-reflection. Thank you, Ryan, for shining a light on the importance of the human part of the profession.
What an example that you've shared in that piece. And how you used that interaction with your child to shine a painful, honest spotlight on yourself. The metamessage in your post is coming across strongly. :) Inspiring.