Final Reflections

 So much to say. To start, I note a few ideas and views I now hold strongly which were (at least partly) birthed in this course.

The Garden as a teacher

Thank you Susan for insisting that we learn from an energy / spirt / place that is as wise as this garden. The time we spent here taught me perception, delicacy, and so much more. I plan to continue learning from the land and I hope that I am able to offer my students the same opportunity.

Cities as producers, not (only) consumers

Recently, this idea has been presented to me in many ways. In this course the various weavings we created, as well as the food we enjoyed from the garden were radiant reminders of the gifts hiding right under our nose.  

Alternate ways of knowing

Recalling our conversation relating to Western Binaries, I was again struck by this phrase we hear so often, ‘alternate ways of knowing’. Earlier in the semester, I believed that alternate ways of knowing constituted as understanding the world with different binaries. However, other classes and books now lead me elsewhere. I believe that these binaries exist (and may be even necessary) for our world and psyche – however, it is working towards some sort of paradoxical, sublime ‘third’ option - a synthesis of binaries - which will ultimately constitute as new (old?) ways of knowing.

I’m also extremely grateful this course offered me the opportunity to explore topics of my own interest as a teacher, namely collaboration. I adamantly do not want to be a tyrant in my classroom – I want students to learn from each other and to see me as a facilitator. In this role, I am able to create a safe space for students to explore autonomously. As I move forward in my teaching journey, I hope to find many ways to enable students without insisting on a particular direction (or destination). Currently, I hope to explore potential connections between the culture and norms of drum circles to inform new teaching strategies that serve to cultivate a community of learners.  

I recently visited my sit spot again. The garden has transformed in the recent months – far fewer colors and leaves; a decay which reveals the underlying structure of the place. In my sit spot, I admired the three tree, the hyperbolic gates, and many plants which seem to not notice the cold. As much as death pervades this place, life seeps through the cracks.

I was again moved by the chute I placed; the orange ribbon in sharp contrast to the duller pallet of winter. As I approached the ribbon I saw that strong winds had caused it to fray, tangling some loose threads around a nearby plant. Initially I felt guilty – had I placed the ribbon in an irresponsible way? However, after further inspection, I realized that very little damage had been done. It was in a way beautiful – the ribbon integrating, weaving, winding its way with the land. Neither the plant or ribbon seemed to be in distress, so I took no action other than to reflect. The child of this chute feels like an elder to me – although it is embarrassing to need such a glaring reminder of on whose land I teach, I am grateful for this aid.

Finally, as with most memorable experiences, it is the people who burn brightly in my memory. The math cohort is undoubtably the most passionate group of learners I’ve ever been a part of. The friends I’ve made in this course (and others) are of the highest quality.

It is difficult to hold this much gratitude! Thank you, all that has shaped and been shaped these past months.