Bonnie Irwin
The Courage to Change

Universities 21 is published by the University Professionals of Illinois

Mitch Vogel,
President

Mary Ann Schwartz
Editor

The Courage To Teach: Exploring the Inner Landscape of a Teacher's Life

Parker J. Palmer. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, Inc., 1998

A Book Review

Hamid Akbari (Management, Northeastern Illinois University)

Because of its title, I began reading Parker Palmer's book with a great deal of apprehension, and because of its content, I ended the book with lots of inspiration and a fulfilled sense of learning about transformational or courageous teaching. While it is now immaterial to my learning experience, my apprehension of the title still exists. In my view, the title seems to suggest that you must have courage to teach or anyone who teaches is courageous, whereas, I believe that none of the two is necessary and in a lot of cases not true. Moreover, for some reasons, the title misled me into thinking that Palmer's book is another pedagogical script. It was not. Therefore, reflecting on the rich materials of the book and the cogent arguments it makes on behalf of good and deep teaching, I would suggest the change or adjustment of the book title to something like: Teaching from Within or Courage in Teaching. And indeed, the book is a well presented set of proposals and arguments about how everyone of us as teachers in educational institutions can develop a capacity for the element of courage in our teaching process. In this review, I will present the central themes of Palmer's model of courageous teaching.

The common thread running through the themes of this book is an invitation or an encouragement by Palmer to all teachers to establish a set of relationships or connections. There are five key relationships that Palmer argues each of us, as teachers, must develop and sustain and flourish within and among us. The first and fundamental type of relationship is to be established between the teacher, that is each of us and our inner selves. This is necessary if we want to regain our Alost passionate heart@ for teaching. We need to learn about ourselves, our origins and identities and what constitutes our whole selves. Without learning about our own inner self and regaining our lost passion for teaching and the subject matter, we cannot string a cord in the inner teacher of our students. Without delving deep in our own beliefs and true selves, we cannot teach what might constitute a deep and lasting learning experience to the students. In Palmer's words: only "deep speaks to deep."

The second type of relationship is to be between us and what Palmer calls the "fearful hearts" of our students. We need to relate to the inner selves of our students, to their inner voices. We need to understand their concerns and problems and reasons behind their silence. Our task as teachers is to provide them with opportunities to find their voice. Through relating an example about a "student from hell," Palmer shows that this student is not from hell and is rather a product of hellish life conditions. It is in interaction with the author, that this student overcomes his fear of talking as he gives a ride to Dr. Palmer to the airport. Palmer uses this story to suggest that to enable our students to overcome their fears, we must "put" our "students behind the wheel." Our students should become active participants in our shared learning experience, not passive recipients of our objective sets of knowledge and theory. Using Erik Erikson's terms, Palmer encourages us, as our "young students' elders," to choose "generativity" over "stagnation" by practicing "creativity in the service of the young (p. 49)."

The third relationship, which also helps us to overcome our own fearful heart, is to be established between us and the subjects we teach. Palmer offers the following explanation about why many of us are fearful of our subject matters that we teach. He argues that the root cause of the fear of our subject matter is in our "fearful way of knowing." In this way, we separate ourselves from our subject matters on the grounds of an "objectivist" pursuit of knowledge. It is not so much the "objectivity" that Plamer critiques. It is rather, the separation between the learner and her/his subject matter that is of his well presented concern. He is concerned that: "objectivism, fearful of both the knowing self and the thing known, distances self from world and deforms our relationships with our subjects, our students, and ourselves (p.54)." Because, knowing according to Palmer is "relational." He writes: "Knowing is a human way to seek relationship and, in the process, to have encounters and exchanges that will inevitably alter us. At its deepest reaches, knowing is always communal (p. 54)." Palmer exemplifies this relationship by relating the story of the accomplished biologist Barbara McClintock's "love" affair with "corn plants." He quotes Sue Rosser's words on McClintock about this relationship: McClintock "gained valuable knowledge by empathizing with her corn plants, submerging herself in their world and dissolving the boundary between object and observers (p.55)."

The fourth relationship to be established is between us and the community of learning. He defines three prevalent models of learning community: therapeutic, civic and marketing. The therapeutic model of community seeks sharing, loving and intimacy in the teacher and learner relationship. Praising this model's intentions, Palmer sees it as impotent to embrace all members of the community as we are bound to "lose our capacity for connectedness with the strange and the stranger that is at the heart of being educated." The civic model of community provides us with a well regulated body politic and related forums in which we can interact in a civil and politically democratic way. Palmer acknowledges the contributions of this model to the creation and sustaining of democratic systems, but finds it inadequate in learning community's search for truth. According to Palmer: "in the quest for truth we make no such [civic-democratic] agreement, nor should we, for truth by majority rule is no truth at all. One sure way to miss truth in any field is to count the votes: had Copernicus and Galileo done so, the sun might still be circling the earth (p. 93)." The marketing model of community - following the path of corporatization of American higher education - treats students as the customers who hold us accountable and deserve to receive a competitive package of our educational products. In this model, customer's satisfaction is the ultimate goal like the marketing motto of "customer is the king." Palmer thinks otherwise: "good education is always more process than product" and "good education may leave students deeply dissatisfied, at least for a while" because "students who have been well served by good teachers may walk away angry - angry that their prejudices have been challenged and their sense of self shaken (p.94)."

Palmer provides an alternative educational "community of truth" to the above models. In such community "reality is a web of communal relationships, and we can know reality only by being in community with it (p. 96).@ And we must relate to such a community in which all of us, teachers and students, may be able to find peace in teaching, learning and knowing in a collaborative community and away from a fragmented and competitive one. In this community of truth, we rediscover ourselves and we provide a "hospitable," "open," and "supportive" space for all of our students in which they may engage in many - using Gandhi's terms from the book - "experiments with truth." Within this community, both us and our students - as its members who are well connected to our inner selves and having surpassed our fears - let the truth of the subjects of teaching and learning to transcend beyond us and occupy the center stage in our community. This truth, a subject "available for relationship" or the graceful "great thing" of our fields, when combined with our passion and discipline moves to the center of the circle "gathered around" it.

Indeed, since reading this book, one of the most memorable images or metaphors sticking in my mind is picturing myself and my students all gathered around a fire in a circle, except that the fire fades away and the subject matter of my course, something that hopefully matters to my students and I, takes its place. In this circle, we are inspired to learn from the subject matter in between, listen to the wise and learned voice of the teacher, reflect upon it, tell our own "little stories" and contribute to a collective experiment with truth and learning. In my courses, "great things" such as the model of "strategic management" or Maslow's model of "hierarchy of needs" would be put in the circle's stage. In your courses, this may be the "institution of marriage," "theory of evolution," or "civil war." In these types of circles, "geologists are people who hear rocks speak, historians are people who hear the voice of the long dead, writers are people who hear the music of the words (p. 105).

But Professor Palmer is not a naïve man. In fact, the entire book bespeaks of Palmer as a well-read and deeply reflective wise man who not only has a great grasp of his ideas and proposals, but also understands the institutional realities and obstacles that may leave many of his ideas as mere points of talking and idealistic thinking. Acknowledging institutional and structural barriers, albeit short and in passing, he writes: "Good talk about good teaching is unlikely to happen if president, and principals, deans and department chairs, and others who have influence without position do not expect it and invite it into being (p. 156)." However, he sees the leadership's engagement and action as necessary but not sufficient. What he sees as mattering the most is the creation of a national and an extra-organizational movement which provides a framework for binding like-minded teachers together and to which we must establish our fifth relationship by helping to create and sustain such a movement. To encourage us to think in terms of bringing about such a large scale movement, he asks us to first reconcile our inner and outer identities (first relationship discussed above), and remain "divided no more." Second, he prods us to form "communities of congruence" with other like minded teachers within and across our institutions. Third, he proposes "going public" with our "private concerns" so they can be shared by the public and receive its necessary scrutiny. And finally, he believes that with legitimate concerns and our persistence, "a system of alternative rewards emerges to sustain the movement's vision and to put pressure for change on the standard institutional reward system (p. 166)." To demonstrate the potential of forming such a movement, Palmer draws on numerous examples from the civil rights movement. While Palmer makes some compelling arguments about the practicality of such a movement, yet in my view, his treatment and coverage of its basic mechanisms is insufficient at best. I would rather see him to remove this chapter and expand it altogether into his next book.

The goodness of Palmer's book is its profound presentation of his reflections and thoughts on the subject of good teaching. His book, indeed, takes the reader through a deep journey of self-reflection and leaves him with multitudes of insights and deep grasp of why and how to develop "courage" for a passionate and caring teaching. His treatment of the shortcomings of the "objectivist" view of teaching and learning is brilliant and persuasive. His examples and quotes are plenty and inspirational. While treatment of some of the subject matters such as "knowing and the sacred" seemed to be both insufficient and weak in their presentation, the book, in totality, is a must read for anyone who is interested in becoming a better or as Plamer likes to call it a "courageous" teacher.

Meanwhile, many questions remain in my mind that I wish a future book by Palmer or another colleague would address them in some detail. They are: would the emergent teacher of the new century resemble the teacher of the last century and for that matter the last millennium? What would be the likely differences? Would classroom, as perennial as it has been so far, survive the all encompassing presence and penetration of computer, internet and telecommunications technologies. Moreover, besides and beyond the emergence of technology, should the classroom as a gathering place and solo teaching continue to remain the dominant forum and mode of teaching and learning in an already and increasingly post-modern world? And finally, how would universities withstand the great pressure of corporatization of all public and civic institutions - which is antithetical to Palmer's notion of "community of truth."

With these questions raised in my mind, Plamer's book passes the litmus test of a good book for me, it raises more questions than the ones it answers.