I. The Memoir of a (Mere) Teacher

#10

Saying that I do not want to be treated as a guru does not imply that I am critical of those who do accept the role (my personal assessment of them is based largely on their external lifestyles in relation to their teachings). Fundamentally, I believe the adage (slightly reworded here) that the lessons best learned are those one learns for otself. And there is a saying among Western scholars that we are all forever students, which I also believe. And nothing in either of these principles necessarily precludes a person from becoming a guru, I suppose.

It is ironic that so-called primitive people did not need gurus or pundits as we do because, to the primitives, truth was largely self-evident (including, I would contend, their perceptions of the “supernatural”). We sedunts—sedentary, civilized people—lead lives that are profoundly complex, where truths are often imperceptible if not elusive, so no person is expected to comprehend it all, and we all make very large leaps of faith. As the “knowledge” has expanded around us, we all become relatively more ignorant, and so we deeply need teachers and, I suppose, gurus.

If I were to be critical of anyone it would be those academic teachers who “play” guru in the classroom—slipping in their personal judgments or overtly proselytizing their views—abusing their more legitimate authority. Students in an academic class have in no way agreed to hear the teacher’s “wisdoms,” as do the “students” of gurus.

In any event, I can now say that I succeeded in my ambition to remain a teacher; my career ends as I offer my reflections to other teachers for whatever they might be worth.

And now in 2013, as I retire, I have a new personal question to contemplate. I leave The Hudson School (after 30 years) for the same kind of reason I left The New School—lack of transparency in administration—not for anything directly to do with the classroom experience. While the area of opaqueness was different in the two schools—vetting procedure in the former and financial accounting in the latter (and two related incidents of censorship)—I am compelled to ponder why transparency appears to be so important to me, and what I might do about it in retirement. Perhaps I’ll rail against the evils of secrecy (and consider how secrecy differs from privacy). But no doubt I’ll experiment with this new absence of restraint in self-expression.

While I did not anticipate retiring quite so soon, it is not premature since I am turning 68 and the body, like any other machine, wears down and, eventually, out. Enough said.

June 23, 2013
_______________

The unpublished works cited above are available bound in modified manuscript form from the author.

Contact Dr. Case