My Stubborn and Unpopular Educational Belief

This can be regarded as a follow-up to my educational philosophy statement. It’s the text of an email I recently sent to one of my former students in response to a question she asked about my educational philosophy. Consequently, there is some overlap with what I explicitly stated in my educational philosophy statement, but the main thing I wanted to do here was to articulate one of the premises of my educational philosophy. 

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My Stubborn and Unpopular Educational Belief

My stubborn and unpopular belief is that every student loves learning. Many of them either don't know it yet, or they've had the love of learning nearly snuffed out by their educational experiences.

The basis of my belief is my premise that every human being is created b'tzelem Elokim. According to my understanding, this means that every human being has the capacity for conceptual understanding and abstract thinking, as well as an innate drive to seek out knowledge of truth for its own sake. 

It is this fundamental belief about human nature which impels me, as a teacher of Torah, to treat every student with respect as a fellow truth-seeking mind, and to treat every question as a potential catalyst of tzelem Elokim development. Although I do care about teaching specific ideas with clarity, and hope that students remember what they learn in my classes, this isn't my main goal. My main goal is to awaken the latent tzelem Elokim in my students, and to equip them with the tools - in the realm of chochmah (intellect) and mussar (middos) - to live as a tzelem Elokim, the ultimate level of which is making good bechirah (free will) decisions on the basis of their tzelem Elokim, reaching ahavas Hashem (love of God) and yiras Hashem (fear of God) and learning lishmah (for its own sake). If a student walked away from my class with an enhanced love of learning, but without remembering a single idea I taught her, then I would still be happy and consider my job well done.

I referred to this belief of mine as "unpopular" because I do not think that this belief is shared by all teachers. Some profess it in speech, but don't believe it in their minds or in their hearts. Others don't even profess it. For example, there are teachers who believe that kids need to be instilled by their parents and teachers with a desire to learn, and that this desire is not natural. Others maintain that students need to be bribed - with praise, with grades, and with other "carrots" - or threatened with punishment in order to "get them to want to learn." Others take a religious angle, attempting to instill their students with a drive to learn as an act of avodas Hashem (divine service). Others believe that some kids do have a natural desire to learn, whereas others just "aren't cut out for learning." These teachers are usually quick to give up on those whom they perceive to be in the latter category.

I maintain that all of these teachers are wrong. I walk into my classroom - whether it's filled with old students or new students - with the assumption that EVERY student has an innate love of learning, an innate enjoyment of thinking, and an innate sense of curiosity. In many cases, these innate potentials are latent, or suppressed, or even crippled by years of educational abuse - but they're there. My job is to awaken the potential thinker in all students, to the extent that I can, and nurture them with good ideas, good thinking, and good, enjoyable learning. I refer to this belief of mine as "stubborn" because I am so convinced it is true that I will be willing to continue operating on this premise even when all evidence points to the fact that a given student is not interested in learning. 

This reminds me of a conversation I had a few years ago with someone I went to high school with, who is currently a rebbi at [insert name of well-known school]. He and I were talking about my educational approach, which he was familiar with from our teachers at [insert name of my high school alma mater]. I will never forget what he told me. He said, "Your whole approach of getting kids into learning by answering their questions and teaching them to think ... maybe that used to work, but it's an outdated approach. Kids these days aren't interested in thinking. They want a kesher (personal connection) with their rebbi. That's the best way to reach them. Not by answering questions." 

I couldn't believe how diametrically opposed our approaches were. This is a rebbi who uses methods like having kumzitzes (singing sessions) during shiur (Torah class), baking cookies for his talmidim (students), putting his arm on their shoulder, artificially attempting to rev up enthusiasm with phrases like, "Isn't this Toisfis geshmack?" and "We're going to learn some heilga TOIRAH!" Those methods in and of themselves aren't inherently problematic, but when "that outdated method" of thinking-based Torah is replaced with such devices, then that is worse than misguided; it's evil. 

I will not deny that this approach "works" for some kids. I say "works" (in quotation marks) because I maintain that this type of approach cannot serve as a foundation that's made to last. Like any emotionally-fueled approach, it will only "work" while the emotional mood is active and kept at a heightened level, and the nature of all emotional moods is that they cannot remain at a constant state forever. Someone who subscribes to such an approach will ride the high until it starts to wear off, and will then desperately try to chase after another high to keep his religiosity going. At "best," he'll spend his life repeatedly chasing such highs, like a drug addict. At worst, the high will wear off, and he'll drop his religiosity, or rebel against it. 

My approach is made to last because it is based on the higher part of our human nature as tzelem Elokim. Moreover, for those students of mine who are inducted into the world of Mishlei and Koheles, my approach is also based on the lower part of our human nature as pleasure-seeking pain-avoiding animals. By showing that Torah has a rational basis which satisfies the intellect, while simultaneously providing a way of life which results in maximum pleasure and minimum pain, I am appealing to the entire human being which, as Aristotle defined, is a "rational animal." Even if a student discontinues learning after high school, the part of the student which I awakened is their essence. I did not merely put them into a certain mood by singing a zemer or making them feel a kesher with their rebbi. I activated their humanity. 

I should mention that I am not trying to dismiss or downplay those whose attachment to Torah and Judaism is purely or largely emotional. That's a good thing, just as any she'lo lishmah is a good thing - at least, in potential. But I am intentionally objecting to Torah educators who believe that such an approach is an ideal, and that the "radical" approach of "appealing to the mind" is an "outdated" method. They are wrong, and their wrongness does harm.

And so I will continue to teach in accordance with my stubborn and unpopular belief, and let the results speak for themselves.