When I read the introduction to this book by Bell Hooks, I was immediately reminded of an anecdote from a friend of mine, also a teacher. She had been at a staff training day, and they had all been asked the question, ‘what is the most important thing in teaching to you?’ She answered ‘love’, and was met with a negative response from the other participants. It’s interesting to note that love can mean so many different things, perhaps it has the most variety of meanings of any english word. When I was studying Qigong, the Chinese had many different words for the positive and negative emotions associated with different organs in the body, but the english word ‘love’ was used to translate many different words in Chinese.
Hooks addresses this lack of verbal expressions for the nuanced meanings of love, in the introduction on Grace. Perhaps the absence of vocabulary, of more than one word to describe all the variations of love, is what leads to the cynicism and the “pervasive feeling that love cannot be found”. More and more, we hear about people having a ‘love language’, that is to supplement a lack of language with other transmissions of information or expressions of needs and desires to better describe our longing for love, for the variation we want. She goes on to describe cynicism as ‘the great mask of the disappointed and betrayed heart.” Perhaps this is why the supplements for language, the love language that is non verbal, becomes so important. It is an indicator of safety, of comprehension of an individual identity and their relevant needs. Is teaching a love language in of itself, or do we each have a different way to offer safety, and love, within our different styles of teaching?
To relate this to teaching, is to acknowledge that we must feel safe before we can begin to learn. This has become very apparent in the pandemic, where students would feel unsafe for many reasons due to the increased stresses they were and are going through before they can begin to learn. The student who gets stopped and searched by police at Elephant and Castle before coming into LCC, cannot pay attention to the content of a tutorial. Instead, we speak about what they have gone through, I invite them to take this as a pause, to reframe for the next class. I offer to write notes on their dissertation, so that they can read it laster when they are able to focus. What I really mean is, when they are able to feel safe, and therefore they can allow their brain to move from fight, flight, freeze and begin to absorb information in the manner they need to for studying.
I noticed in class this week, that a student is able to participate more, as I offer to begin the class contributions to discussion with my own example, and eventually she offered her own contribution. It’s an incremental process, sometimes, that builds with the balance of individual time in tutorials and the holding of space for each student, and the whole cohort.
Within this continuous effort, where is the love language for staff? How do we find ways to be gentle and create a safe space for ourselves? Over the past few years, there has been so many difficulties in the department, and REST is something of a four letter word. I’ve noticed that boundaries play such an important role in creating this safety, and it’s clear that those who think boundaries are unnecessary are often already made to feel safe by privilege, challenged by them or reluctant to be seen as a ‘bad cop’. However, its the clarity of boundaries that creates any safe space, physically or mentally, and this practice, when continually supported, allows for the exploration and openness need for learning. This is, perhaps, my love language in teaching, to hold space and clarify boundaries, so that the students who are most at risk of feeling unsafe can participate.