a cog in a machine

my time at the uw has taught me a lot of valuable things, but there is a lot that i’m not prepared for, including just how small my place is in the world.

most of my peers will never write a ny times best seller. most of us will never get to be the chancellor of a big school district or act as secretary of education for the whole country. instead, most of us will have an impact on a more modest scale. for me, i need to think about student x and how he’ll earn enough credits to advance in grade next fall; student y’s boyfriend drama; and student z, who needs help finding scholarship money for college. being a teacher requires you to think about one person at a time.

none of us wants to think of ourselves as small potatoes, but it can be quite difficult not to feel like a white-collared cog in an enormous machine that many (most?) feel is failing on multiple level. how could it be otherwise? there are a ton of teachers out there, and many more waiting in the wings (like me) to join a school system where around half the kids in big cities don’t graduate high school on time. the future of education in america is dependent on a system made up of millions of people, not on any single individual within it. practically everyone is replaceable in this big ol’ machine that tries to sputter forward.

i guess it’s comforting to know that i’m not really needed to make this thing work, but it’s also quite terrifying. i suspect that learning to deal with this is part of what it means to be a grown up. fortunately for me, i’ve found some insight in an amazing book i’m reading. the author thinks about how he can truly matter as a doctor, despite just being one guy in a huge machine. he makes five suggestions; they are:

1) ask an unscripted question. by this, he means, ask something that your job doesn’t necessarily script out for you. how about that seahawks game? making a human connection, he posits, makes the machine seem less like a machine.

2) don’t complain. he observes that all conversations in staff lounges inevitably spirals downward into bitter complaints about everything. although there is a lot to be upset about, participating in such conversations is not a good way to matter.

3) count something. take notes on how things work, why some mistakes keep happening. observe what’s happening around you and figure out how to make it better.

4) write something. writing can have a profound impact on an audience. just as important, the act of writing has a huge benefit for the writer. teaching is more physically than intellectually taxing (in my opinion), and writing lets you step back and thoughtfully reflect on a problem.

5) change. don’t be the same guy you were yesterday.