I did not write RANDOM THOUGHTS as a "pedagogical adviser" telling you how to teach. I am not the expert proclaiming "do it my way because it is the one and one sure way." The ongoing collection of RANDOM THOUGHTS was never meant to be and is not a traditional utilitarian "how to do," a handyman's "fix-it manual", a wizard's magical "bag of tricks," or a chef's "cook book" of tried and true ready classroom recipes.
Each Random Thought is a description of an unforeseen and unexpected rite of passage. They flowed spontaneously without any prescribed cadence, chronological sequence, topical order, or ensnaring pedagogical dogma. They are a collection of separate and occasional "personal letters" of collegial sharing written to the academic community, a recounting of personal and professional experiences, an examination of my beliefs about education, a commemoration of student learning and achievement, a proclamation of faith in students, and a celebration of teaching. They were not written as a collection or even meant to be read collectively. Each has an individual spirit, a particular emotion, and a unique character. They are written more as personal poetry of my heart and soul than impersonal analytical prose of my conscious mind. I wanted them to be enjoyed as well as studied, to be experienced as well as read. I wanted to pump more life and greater meaning into aspects of the educational process than does the usual bookish scholarship using bland educationese and lifeless jargon. I wanted to give education that too often lacking but needed human dimension, intimately fleshing out the dynamics of the teaching experience, to proclaim that education is a human activity involving intriguing and complex real people with real names having real hopes and dreams and strengths and fears and frailties.
The collection is a series of separate reflections about how I struggle to practice my craft and carry on my mission. It is a collection of sharings discussing why I came to believe the way I do, what I believe, why I teach the way I do, and how I now teach. It's a group of conversations about the human struggle in teaching and in learning by bringing into focus my own struggle and those of students.
I also wrote them to you for me. They remind me to stop being satisfied with who I was, with who I am, and explore who I have the potential to be. They remind me not to be arrogant with who I am, but to be humble about who I might become. They remind me that I don't have to run away to get to someplace else. They remind me that the more I question something, the more I develop it; the more I question, the more I develop. And finally, they remind me as the opening and closing words of Stanley Kunitz' poem, THE LAYERS, say, "I have walked through many lives.....I am not done with my changes."