Toward the end of his classic book, Wind, Sand and Stars, Antoine de Saint-Exupery lambastes the bourgeoisie and decries the all too prevalent murder of the “little Mozart” that exists in all of us. Exupery calls for adults to throw off the trappings of societally dictated materialism and become true to their inner natures and thereby by example become “sentinels” to the young. His belief is that without adults passionately living lives of calling who are able to recognize in youth what callings in them would ignite similarly passionate lives, our world is doomed to an ever declining spiral of mediocrity and neurosis. The world should be a garden, he says, out of the fertile soil of which arise people who have been nurtured to grow into the fullest expression of their true being, not a world of ignored and stilted conformists merely pursuing the twin illusions of security and wealth.

Although I don’t think that in my case flying basically experimental airplanes over uncharted mountain passes in Chile is necessary for me to feel alive and personally fulfilled, I whole-heartedly agree with Exupery’s educational philosophy that there exists an inner genius in each of us and that schooling is about providing fertile soil in which that genius can sprout and grow.  I agree that passionately alive adults provide permission for young people to live similarly passionate lives, and that it takes gifted adults to recognize and nurture the seeds of genius in our young.

Teaching is an act of faith and courage. It is an act of faith because most of the time what students are learning is far different and mysterious than what even the most carefully constructed lesson plan can predict, and it is an act of courage because our very presence as a teacher in the classroom can’t help but touch the souls of those who are in attendance.

Teaching is about personality and the willingness to be open to questioning and change. I chuckle at the button that says “Question Authority,” not necessarily for the active sense of the meaning it intends, but rather for the unintended descriptive sense when worn by a teacher – we should all be “question authorities” in my opinion. The best teachers I have known were true “question authorities” who also happened to be deeply-feeling compassionate searchers for the very best to draw out of their students. 

I feel subject matter is the material out of which students recognize and come to know the passion of the teacher, but it is the sentinel-like caring of the teacher that allows passion for the subject matter – and even perhaps life - to grow in the student. Who among the most successful hasn’t found love for a subject matter engendered in the passionate teaching of a caring mentor? All students deserve that opportunity – and our world is desperately in need of sentinels and passionate, true-to-themselves people.

Great teachers care and love both inside and outside of the classroom. I’ve known teachers who have cared and loved while seriously, menacingly and endlessly chasing miscreants around the school yard with a lacrosse stick, and I have known teachers who have inflicted irreparable harm with a momentary thoughtless snicker. The difference is in the heart and the ability to see into and nurture the heart of students – that is what I believe is the amazingly simple and complex thing that great teachers do. I thank those teachers who have touched my life with their caring, and I am humbly grateful for the opportunities I have had to do my very best to live up to their legacy.