We are all teachers of the self

We are all, eventually, teachers of the self — whether we accept this mantle or not — be it may in a positive or a negative light. This path is a tortuous one, however. John Locke tells us that at birth we are an empty slate, a tabula rasa. (1) We are then exposed to a litany of messages — an endless stream of data — most of it pure poison to the burgeoning mind. Consumerism and “me-ism” are running amok. (2)

If you notice a group of students, you will find the ones who are truly eager to learn. Families of most students, in my experience, are usually divided into two broad groups. The one is relatively affluent and well-educated. They see education as an essential part of their social standing. Students’ parents or family members are doctors, teachers, lawyers or business people, etc. These young pupils feel entitled and are eager to be passed the baton of achievement — often without real work.

The other group is somewhat dysfunctional. It places little to no value on anything. It just plods along. Its adherents are less well-educated, hold more menial jobs and there is more stress in the family — divorce, emotional conflicts, etc. Here, these “élèves” do not feel advantaged. They have, thus, taken it upon themselves to learn. They see education as exposure to a wider world — a world that they presently do not see at home.

Of these two classifications, which will be the more successful — success defined as achieving personal happiness and fulfillment? (3) I would wager that the disadvantaged adolescents, the ones not so enfranchised — the needier — will be the more successful. An example: In this group, I have a young student who wants to be a doctor. She has the intelligence and the drive. The problem, according to her, is that she is exceedingly poor at math and chemistry. I believe that with her determination, she will overcome these problems and go to medical school.

We then come down to the most serious of all questions: Who is your teacher — your real teacher? When asked this question, many flail around looking for an answer — my mother, my friends, my homeroom teacher, and so forth. The answer, of course, is myself. Nonetheless, first and foremost, I must believe that I am truly capable of teaching myself. Yes, we need a mentor — and a good one. This should be actively hunted for at the beginning of my maturation. The sage, however, will transcend one day and I will be left on my own to synthesize his wisdom into my being. My job is to continue to learn whilst sharing my knowledge with the people around me. I am a lifetime learner. The great polymath, Benjamin Franklin (4) leaves us with a thought: Tell me and I forget, teach me and I may remember, involve me and I learn.

A closing thought: We are all teachers. The most salient point is that each one of us is capable of learning. In this regard, there are no failures — only uncommitted individuals. To teach me is work, plain and simple. I must put in the 10,000 hours, (5) I must put in the time. You must be committed to yourself, and to paraphrase George Leonard, (6) you must adhere to the idea that your journey to educate yourself is a life-long quest.

To sum up: This week, we spoke about learning to teach yourself. Knowledge is an exciting lifelong acquisition.

To be noted: From a Roman proverb — not to feel one’s misfortunes is not human, not to bear them is not manly.

Just for fun: