The Language Teacher
October 1999

For Human Dignity & Aligning Values with Activity

Tim Murphey

Nanzan University



In a recent interview, Tessa Woodward, the highly respected teacher-trainer and author-editor, says,

I have some very strong beliefs about people and how people learn, and about what language is and how it is learnt. As a basis of those beliefs so my practice follows. If I take fundamental beliefs such as personal dignity in the teaching-learning encounter . . ., then my tactics and methods will flow from that and I will choose ways of working that harmonize with those beliefs. (p. 5)

This year is the 50th anniversary of my university. Our motto is "Hominis Dignitati" (For Human Dignity), based on the "belief that all human beings are created in the image of God and entrusted by God with responsibility for themselves, others and the world (campus document). Although I am not a practicing Christian, I do find myself believing in my students' likeness to gods--that these human beings warrant the respect and awe traditionally associated with divine worship. At these times, I find I teach more effectively and create community. I also like the active agency implied by this belief, that we have the responsibility to do something actively to realize human dignity. I suspect that operationalizing this motto is at least one of the goals of our university's Institute for Religion and Culture, Institute for Social Ethics, and Human Relations Department. I wrote the piece below ("A Best Kept Secret") for a Swiss language teaching publication once and it speaks to these things in everyday teacher terms:

A teacher I know works enormous hours, with difficult students, huge classes, poor materials, and grouchy administrators. Yet, she still has huge amounts of energy. Why?

Well, she does tell people in passing part of her secret: "I love my classes." But people interpret "classes" as "subject," when what she actually means is, she's in love with her students.

This isn't romantic love. It's like the love of a mother for her baby, or Spielberg for ET--a marveling at the wonder of another life grappling with its world, whether as literature, math, or the ABCs. Such teachers have the ability to stand back in class and look at a troublemaker, or the dunce of the class, and fall in love because the student is making an effort, or perhaps rebelling. And when a teacher feels this awe, this respect, it can't help but be communicated. It comes out of a teacher's pores, it's in their energy. And students feel it. Feel that somebody knows they exist, that maybe the subject isn't the most important thing in the classroom--they are. And then they want to work. The energy multiplies.

I know it sounds kind of simple, but try it. Whadaya got to lose? You wanna love your classes? Fall in love with your students. Marvel with wonder, respect in awe.

Without love the rest may still get taught; with it the rest may get learned. . . along with a whole lot of other things. (p. 35)

As in the above example, and as Tessa Woodward notes, behavior can naturally follow beliefs. But sometimes it can get sidetracked by other values, such as a good income, or loyalty to institutions despite their unethical practices. That's when we need to seek out our higher level values and draw guidance from them.

Being well-aligned with your values in your activities is how I interpret Clarke et al.'s (1999) "coherence": It means you walk your talk. Your beliefs are manifest in your behavior. The opposite is incoherence, or schizophrenetic behavior, in which our activities conflict with the values we hold. A teacher who says "Mistakes are OK" and yet emphasizes error correction in class is confusing students. When institutions ask teachers to act in ways that are inconsistent with their and their institution's professed goals, both can become schizophrenetically out of alignment. The mixed messages catch us in a double bind. We do battle within ourselves, and within our institutions.

This happens even in larger systems. Finland, for example, has wonderful social programs to help alcoholics and leads the field in alcohol-related therapies. However, the government also has a monopoly on the sale of alcohol and likes to make money. As a result, in Finland you may see two government billboards side by side, one urging you to drink more, and the other not to drink too much. The Finns are caught in a double bind.

In Japan, the Monbusho tells high school teachers to teach oral communication, and yet their entrance exams do not reflect this change. Teachers are caught in the midst of confusing messages. Do we do what the Monbusho says or do we do our best to get our students into college? When institutions simply use the rhetoric of values without acting upon them, then they engender schizophrenetic activities that confuse practitioners with mixed messages and restrain human development. Systems theory provides us one way of becoming aware of these many messages and of noticing how they can create double binds and confusion.

Coherently living our values in the classroom can provide students with an optimal environment to show they are god-like. Coherence in institutions reaches out for and develops our "human dignity" and offers us opportunities for expanding our personal development. Acting upon these higher values can enrich our daily activities with passionate intent and purpose.

References

Clarke, M., Rhodes, L. Baker (1998). Lessons learned in 4th grade classrooms. The Language Teacher 22 (9), 25-27, 43.

Murphey, T. (1992). A best kept secret. English Teachers Association of Switzerland 9, (2), 35.

Woodword, Tessa (1998). Following a philosophy of personal dignity. (Interviewed by Merinda Wilson) Exploratio71s in Teacher Education. 6 (1), 5-9.



All materials on this site are copyright © by JALT and their respective authors.
For more information on JALT, visit the JALT National Website