April 6th, 2022—What are your truths? For such a straightforward question, my answers are quite complex. The question suggests that I hold more than one truth and that I can articulate their sources and meanings. The question suggests the existence of truth as a tangible and not abstract aspect of my work and my way of being in the world. I also wonder if I should answer from the head, heart or the hand of practice; perhaps all three. The question in its entirety has a second half; “What are your truths, not other’s truths, but your truths?” So not only do I need to articulate my truths, but I should also distinguish between my truths and truths I borrowed and made my own. This is a lovely question, because it invites me into an exploration of self-truth and other-truth, was proposed by Dr. Catherine Meeks in a YouTube presentation. She is the Executive Director of the Absalom Jones Center for Racial Healing and her presentation addressed questions of social justice, healing and the work of the spirit. Her themes, although originating in a faith community, have direct application to the field of education.
Dr. Meeks’ question sparked my teacher imagination and pulled at the strings of my educator heart because I heard in the question an invitation to think differently about the nature of truth in schooling. It invites investigation that reaches beyond more traditional strategies of truth seeking as an intellectual and rational process, truth as determined by objective measures of testing and research-based instruction. I find myself asking by what measure do I know a truth is truly mine, a way of knowing that is consistent with my inner-light?
Both perspectives (head and heart), it seems, are intertwined, one feeding and informing the other. For instance, when coaching early career educators, I witness time when they know the right answer because they have read and intellectualized the relevant educational literature on best practices. They are in this sense great students faithfully enacting the role of learner who well prepared to treat knowing as a commodity to be exchanged for a grade. Consequently, in the classroom their actions seem to belong to the author of the textbook. They appear to not be truly in possession of their bodies or their practice because they are teaching someone else’s truths about effective teaching. Conversely, it is a joy and gift to witness an educator embracing their voice and unique way of being in the classroom. They seem to transcend the confines of technically correct action, molding best practices into deep practices that shine with authenticity and truthfulness. They teach into a truth hidden in plain sight, their calling to teach and serve is more than a longing, it is who they are and how they structure learning.
I find it revealing that by changing a word in the question the answer turns in ways that feels more natural to my being. For instance, substituting “gifts” for truths; “what are your gifts, not other’s gifts, but your gifts?” Or substituting “work” for truths; “what is your work, not the work of others, but your work?” The fact that “gifts” and “work” ring truer to me suggests that they are closer to my inner knowing than the word “truths”. This is an important data point because by knowing what doesn’t fit is a way of working closer to what does feel genuine and real. As I reflect on the differences between truth, gift and work I sense that truth is more about a belief, gift is about a skill, and work is about action in the world. The transition from static to dynamic is telling and is consistent with my calling as an educator to heal, create sacred spaces and liberate the hearts of students to find their personal light and truth in the world. What words would you replace, thus making the question more particular to you and your unique orientation to teaching? What words best captures your truth in ways that you can live into?
Later in her presentation, Dr. Meeks counsels, “pay attention to the disruptions”. This is an interesting way to approach the process of knowing one’s truths, because shouldn’t truth create a stable platform of knowing and being? And yet as much as I long for steadiness and certainty, I also know that it can devolve into complacency and a conservative stance on innovation. The truth about nature and teaching is that evolution and change are the norm in response to the fluid dynamics of life and learning. The truth behind Dr. Meeks’ assertion resonates with the theories and teaching practices of transformational teaching and learning, where “disorienting dilemmas” lead to a decentering of perceived truths about the world. And a deep questioning of what is known and unknown, an opportunity to sort out personal truths from truths lifted from others.
I’m thinking of the ways that I have been drawn to the language of soul, heart and passion in the works of holistic, spiritually informed educators. It is easy to simply adopt their language in my speech and writing. But I find that the more I use their framing of inner truths the more my speech feels disingenuous and artificial. The challenge is to find within their description a truth that feels universal, applicable to all educators and resonates with my knowing and being. What does it mean to carry around the truths of others as if they are my own? How did I acquire them? What might the acquisition of other’s truths suggest about what I hope my truths are? What might the false adoption of another’s truths tell you about your truths?
My final reflection on the nature of truth in my teaching is an examination of the resources I turn to when applying my gifts in ways that foster a deep sense of fidelity and authenticity to self. As I read or listen to educators and writers who have a gift for articulating the inner-life of teaching I listen for words, images, stories or phrases that spark my imagination and fuel the fire of my heart. It is in the pursuit of this question that I risk sliding into the trap of making someone else’s truths mine. I sense that their truths are speaking to my truths and it is easy to adopt those truths as mine. And this makes sense as it feels good to try on the coat or shoes of a person I admire to see how they fit. It is in the affirmation that my truths resonate with people I respect.
The challenge is to take off those ideas. To take the risk to create my own style that is responsive to my gifts which look like the gifts of others but are uniquely mine. This is where a community of trusted others is so crucial to the articulation of my truths. They are trusted because they act as a sounding board for my ideas. They don’t advise me, but they ask open-ended and probing questions that invite me to speak my truths, not mimic other’s truths. Our deep relationship provides permission to gently and honestly tell me when my leadership or instructional moves are not consistent with who they know me to be. My community of truth-diviners is composed of colleagues, students and members of my wider social relationships. Who are your trusted others who you rely on to keep you focused on your truths not the truths of others? How do you invite them into that conversation in ways that brings understanding and knowing while also being honest and provocative? “What are your truths, not other’s truths, but your truths?”