September 21, 2022—When a teacher committed to social justice encounters resistance to their call to serve, what are the ranges of ways to attend to this challenge? And in what ways can these responses become life giving rather than life denying? As I reflect on my personal experience and my years of coaching educators, I see how the process of river formation in response to a changing landscape can be helpful in naming the challenges and opportunities of impeded progress toward wholeness and liberation.
In 1874, John Wesley Powell published his monumental ecological and geological study of lands west of the 100th meridian. Today, this area is called the Colorado Plateau. A vast expanse of deserts, canyons, buttes, isolated mountains, and river systems central to the life of the region. At the time of his explorations, only the members of indigenous communities knew the land and its hidden mysteries. As Powell mapped the landscape, he was distinctly interested in the rivers: how they formed?, where they flowed?, where did they connect?, and how much water could they deliver to settlers? Given the arid nature of the land, he knew water was life, as it is today.
Powell was not a trained scientist. His gift was a great capacity to synthesize and integrate observations across vast time and distances. He proposed three classifications for rivers, describing the relationship between the flowing waters and the lands through which they moved. Both his process of making sense of the natural world and his river types hold important wisdom for describing the inner-work of educators committed to social justice education.
He had a natural eye for seeing the fullness of the land for what it was. He resisted, unlike some of his contemporaries, the sin of projecting his wants and needs on the land. Politicians, explorers, and developers papered over the dry landscape with the myth of bountiful water and endless growth. Powell took the time to be with the land, to see into its strengths and limitations. He innately understood the dangers of forcing the land and its water into prescribed frames that fit short term and instrumental goals.
When it comes to teaching, this seems like a good lesson and warning for educators. What is the true calling of my heart? What is the true essence of the heart of a student? What are the myths and false understandings that I must resist and push against? I’m thinking of the ways it is easier for me to see learners through social categories than to take the time to be with them across time and context looking to reveal the hidden mysteries of their selfhood. Time, patience, attentiveness, and integration of disparate data points are the hallmarks of seeing what lies below the surface.
Powell’s river typography was revolutionary at the time and continues to be the standard by which the process of river formation is understood today. The first river is antecedent. Under this label, as the river eased its way through the landscape and the forces of geology pushed the land upward, the river gently cut through the rising land. Its course remained true and consistent across time, even as the land experienced extensive change and alteration from external pressures. I’m thinking here of the antecedent teacher. They know the fullness of their heart, their call to heal and care for learners. As the landscape is forced into change around them, they continue to flow with fidelity to their original course. After years of teaching, the topography of learning and teaching has changed around them, yet their constant faith in wholeness allows them to thrive and inform the lives of students.
Then there is the river that at some point in its journey encounters an obstacle it can’t cut through. Sometimes the impediment emerges as the river works its way through successive geologic layers. Sometimes a catastrophic phenomenon fills the river channel and blocks forward progress. The river is compelled by gravity and the flow of water above to seek a new path around the obstruction. The river channel may move several feet or travel miles before the downward flow can be reestablished. Powell described this river as consequent as it is forward flow is modified in response to an external constraint.
I know of many teachers who fit this category. They are fully committed to social justice and wholeness in their pedagogy. They typically have years of experience creating places of refuge and healing for learners. Then a change in educational policy or school leadership impedes the work they are doing. A hard resistant layer is encountered that won’t yield. In the short term the blockage is painful and disheartening, damming up the compassion and empathy of the educator. The waters of reform slow, stop flowing, and may even stagnate. In the long term the teacher reacts with creativity and imagination and finds new ways to return to the mission of social justice and equity. The heart expands, new terrain is explored and a renewed commitment to liberation emerges.
The third river type described by Powell is superimposed. Over the eons the course of the river has remained true, neither cutting through the landscape nor finding new paths around obstacles. However, the surrounding landscape has experienced erosion and the slow changes of geologic time. In short, the landscape no longer resembles the land during the early years of the river’s existence. For the superimposed educator they have either been blessed enough to teach in spaces that respond to change with slow and gentle movements, resisting radical and dramatic shifts in policy or pedagogy. Or they have found ways over the years to faithfully teach to their heart, having faith that they are on the right path, not fearing that the changes around them will deter their commitment to justice and equity for all their learners.
I suppose that most educators experience one or more of these responses to the ways that institutional imperatives can blunt the inner commitment to social justice in schools. My educational river is mostly superimposed with punctuated periods of consequent teaching. I’ve been able to remain true to my calling while watching the landscape shift and change over time. My fear is that given the current policy and political climate in schools, the number of consequent teachers is on the rise. The obstacles are many, hard, and resistant to change. Where do you find yourself right now? What might need to change in your educational landscape or in your approach to obstacles to move in a direction that brings life to your work and your students?