THE SPACE BETWEEN

Today we had a fascinating discussion about the US school system with Jim De George, probably one of the best, most thoughtful, teachers I have had the pleasure of being taught by. There were so many things we talked about today that I could comment on but it was the comment of one of my colleagues, Dimona Yaniv, which most struck me. She spoke about the “space between teaching and learning.”

That idea struck me as so important, perhaps even a core of what we do as teachers. The “space” can be interpreted in two ways – first, as a gap between what we think we are communicating and what our students actually get. There is of course always that gap between signifier and signified, between my mind and yours, between our perception and experience of the world. As teachers, though, we have a special duty to narrow that gap as much as possible. We may not be able to bridge it but perhaps we can make it narrow enough that a spark of inspiration can cross it.

So how do we narrow the gap? I’m sure there are many ways, amongst which must be trying to understand our kids as individuals, as human and full people, to interact with them in the spirit of ubuntu. To me, though, the most important thing is that we must be human too. We cannot hope to gain the attention of our students if we are dragons, automatons, aliens. A small personal story, an opinion, a sense of humour: these are the things that can draw students in and allow the spark to cross the gap.

Dimona herself sees the space as a place of positivity, of possibility: the something that happens between a teacher or counsellor and a student that allows real, meaningful conversation to take place. This thing is ephemeral, indefinable, unmeasureable but all the more important because of this. This positive space is the second interpretation of the space. I have found and used that space a few times in my career – far too few – and it is a magical experience when it happens. A student previously disinterested, perhaps even destructive transforms into something wonderful. No, not transforms, for neither teacher nor student changes – perhaps a better word is ‘unfolds’. You see a plane of the learner you had not seen before or perhaps had just not recognised to be there.

This year I have had the privilege of experiencing this unfolding with one of my learners and I have been thinking about her for much of the day. A grade 12 learner, she had seldom showed much interest in class. And then we started looking at the Black Power movement in the USA. Something sparked, we tumbled into the space. Perhaps it was my strange attraction to Malcolm X that did it, perhaps it was a resonance with the idea of being self-sufficient, proud and strong. I may never know. A plane opened up and quite suddenly I had an involved learner on my hands, who challenged ideas, asked questions, made the most astounding extrapolations. I saw (perhaps she too saw) for the first time a budding young academic with a fierce intellect and burning passion.

Of course, passion and intellect must be fed and nurtured and this particular experience of the space is bitter-sweet for me. Leaving South Africa meant I left many things behind – family, kittens, friends, partner, inspiring colleagues, good chocolate – but I’ll be going back to those things. The only thing I feel really guilty about is leaving this learner, this fragile bloom of a young mind. So from half way across the world I hope that she is reading, drinking in the learning that could make her into something truly special and deeply needed in our country – an active, involved, critical citizen. Regardless, I am proud of her and I know that she will continue to make me proud.