Is it a performance or playing?

We spent much of our break between semesters attending concerts by Michigan musicians (Joshua Davis, Max and Ruth, Seth and May, and Starlight Six). As often happens, I began to consider how what I observed during these concerts might apply to teaching. This was especially true when we got to see Joshua Davis at two different venues on December 13th. The first was at a theater in Frankfort, Michigan showing a movie to which Joshua contributed. Later, at an after party, he played in a pub across the Betsie River in Elberta.

At the theater, Joshua performed before the movie while photos from his trip played on the screen behind him. He shared a bit about the project and a few songs that had resulted from the experience. I saw this as a performance because he had limited time to share a planned set of his "best material" in a polished fashion to an audience he could barely see beyond the first few rows. 

His playing at the pub was much different. Joshua was set up on a "stage" separated from the audience by a pathway that many of the patrons used to get from the bar area to the bathrooms. During his set, he joked with the people as they passed by and interacted with the audience. We yelled out requests and he obliged. Furthermore, it was clear that he was trying out some new approaches to familiar songs. I call this playing because it was more relaxed and playful than his earlier performance.

As I reflected on the differences between these two shows, I realized that I need to be better about distinguishing between performing and playing in my practice. There is a place for both in teaching, but I am afraid I have not always made an intentional choice about the approach I will use during a lesson. When there is limited time, little opportunity to interact with the audience, and a need to share my best, most polished material, then a performance might be the way to go. Otherwise (and if I am honest, most times), I would be wise to be more playful in my teaching - trying out new things, seeing how the audience responds, and making the necessary adjustments.

And before too long, maybe I can schedule an "open-mic lesson." Of course, there will need to be intentional efforts to turn over to the audience the responsibility of making music. Still, it would be interesting to hear how they might interpret the music and make it their own. 

Who will be the math education savior?

Last night, my wife and I celebrated our 15th wedding anniversary with a house concert. Josh Davis, one of our favorite Michigan singer/songwriters, performed. We had supported his trip to Palestine as part of a project by On the Ground Global, and the house concert was his way of saying thanks. (Below is a video from his trip.)

As a Jewish-American, Josh brought a unique perspective to the trip. He told many stories about the ten days he spent there and sang several songs he wrote based on the experience. In one of the stories, he shared an interchange on spirituality that he had with one of the Palestinians who hosted him. The man gave him a set of Muslim prayer beads with the explanation that everyone needs guidance through the darkness.

This got me thinking about recent discussions related to math education. It might be hyperbole to say that these are dark times to be a teacher but there certainly seems to be a cloud over the profession. Understandably, some might reach out for a savior to guide them. We need to be careful.

I am a firm believer in the power of inspiration - hearing someone else's story or idea and considering ways to apply it to our own situation. My blog is filled with examples of this. But for me, it is even more important that our efforts be authentic. Here is a story from Alan Cohen's The Dragon Doesn't Live Here Anymore that seems appropriate:

There is a story from the Jewish Hassidic tradition that I would like to share with you. Rabbi Zusya, a pious and revered sage, was lying on his deathbed, weeping. His students stood by him perplexed. 

“Rabbi, why do you weep?” one of them ventured to ask, “Surely if anyone is assured a place in the kingdom of heaven, it is you!” 

The sage turned his head toward his beloved students and began to speak softly: “If, my children, when I stand before the heavenly court, I am asked ‘Zusya, why were you not a Moses?’ I shall have no hesitation in affirming, ‘I was not born a Moses.’” 

“If they ask me, 'Why, then, were you not an Elijah?' I shall speak with confidence, ‘Neither am I Elijah.’” 

“I weep, friends, because there is only one question that I fear to be asked; ‘Why were you not a Zusya?’”

While some people may ask me, "Where are your 3,000 videos?", I am not Sal Khan and that medium does not match my skills. And when others ask if I have Meyer-ized my lessons, I can tell them no because it does not match my style. For years I taught as others taught and I do not want to go back to those times. I am comfortable and confident in my teaching but that is not to say complacent. Thanks to all of you, I continue to find ideas that inspire me.

So who will be the math education savior? You will. And you. And you. In fact, there was a large group of them meeting recently at Twitter Math Camp. Check them out here, and be prepare to be inspired.

Updated 6/17/13: Below is an interview and performance by Josh Davis where he describes his encounter with the Palestinian who gave him the prayer beads.