Early last summer, there was a feature published in our local daily newspaper, the Vancouver Sun, that I cut out and kept because it was so personally reassuring.
It was about Brian Little, originally from Victoria but now a popular psychology professor at Harvard. The reason he's so popular? He simply loves to teach, managing, as he put it, that "creative tendency between whimsy and gravitas that is something that professors who truly profess need to strive for."
He describes his improvisational method as being like a symphony: "There's a slow movement and there's an allegro movement. You can be allegro vivace for three lecturs and then largo."
The improvisational metaphor is a fascinating one, and one I'll no doubt beat to death in a future entry. But what really fascinated me when I first read about Prof. Little was his personality. You see, like me, he considers himself an introvert.
I didn't return to university to become a teacher until I was in my early 30's because, although I loved teaching swimming and did so for 12 years (despite the funny-coloured hair and constant whiff of chlorine about my person that it generated) I never thought I was the right type of person. I'm not talkative, I don't enjoy being in the spotlight, I don't like telling people what to do: now where I came up with this stereotype in the first place I don't know, but I fully bought into it.
So this was what was reassuring about reading Prof. Little's profile. He doesn't fit the stereotype either. As an introvert what he has learned to do is turn it "on" in order to perform. And then, after a lecture, he seeks solitude to recharge himself, even going as far as hiding in a washroom cubicle. Apparently, he's not alone - when he confessed this to CBC radio-broadcaster Peter Gzowski during "Morningside," Gzowski admitted that he did much the same thing.
"It's a fine balance, [Little] says, because introverts do make good professors - or radio hosts - attuned as they are to other people's cues, constantly scanning the room to make sure they haven't lost anyone. If they have introverts will adjust their style mid-lecture, throwing in a different example, elaborating a particular point.
'The risk is that they can burn out, because in a sense you're acting out of character. That's why we really need those restorative niches.'"
It makes sense then that some of Little's academic research has to do with what he calls "personal projects." These are core projects that are so meaningful to the individual that they can make one act out of character. Little says, "'One project for me is to profess with passion.... So, that as a professor, I am 'on' as a pseudo-extrovert.' This does not make it wrong or phoney [sic], he says. But it does help to understand what is occurring, so that you can take time to re-balance and reduce the risk of burnout."
I used to feel guilty that I prefer to spend my lunch break quietly at my classroom desk rather than chatting with my colleagues in the staff room, or that I spend most of my weekends by myself, just milling around in a semi-meditative (vegetative?) state. But really, my behaviour makes sense given who I am.
A couple of years ago, at a June staff farewell function I gave a very energetic presentation, acting pretty much as I normally do in front of my students, and surprising most of my colleagues who have never been in my classroom.
Afterwards, one of them, a wonderful woman and excellent teacher - and, may I add, a complete extrovert - came up to me and said "You shouldn't hide your light under a bushel so much!" After reading about Brian Little and his theories I now know that isn't true. I'm not hiding anything; I'm just recharging.
[All quotes are from the Saturday, July 5th edition of The Vancouver Sun]
Posted by msarmstrong
at 3:22 PM PDT
