"Why is it," Jonathan puzzled, "that the hardest thing in the world is to convince a bird that he is free, and that he can prove it for himself if he'd just spend a little time practising? Why should that be so hard?"
'Jonathan Livingston Seagull', by Richard Bach.
During my first three days at Mnyakanya school, I lent Jabu a book called 'Jonathan Livingston Seagull' by Richard Bach. It's less than one hundred pages long and she finished it within a day. She liked it very much.
A couple of days later, when we had been driven out of the school by the strike but I persisted in continuing my course, she said: 'You are like Jonathan Livingston Seagull. Nothing will stop you from learning.'
I was pleased by this comparison, but the truth is that a little logistical matter like a national ban on teaching and a rapid relocation were challenges I could deal with. What I consider to be a far more difficult issue involves my personal relationship with my Learning Leaders. The truth is that from the very beginning Jabu and I have done our utmost to ensure regular attendance and create a consistent and committed team, and we have largely failed. Yesterday, only three Leaders turned up. That night I rang every single one of my Learning Leaders and tried to discover whether they were dropping out completely, or just hadn't felt like it for the last few days. Through these efforts, today I had four students. I have tried everything I can think of to attract the students and I am out of ideas.
I have only just over a week left now before I leave and this knowledge is eating into my complacency like acid. I've begun to worry about the long-term sustainability of the project. The Learning Leaders have a heavy responsibility - to spread the Buzan gospel to the other seven hundred learners and twenty-four educators, and to gradually transform Mnyakanya into a Mentally Literate society. I cannot fairly or realistically ask three people to take on this huge project alone.
There is also the worry that the Learning Leaders' own understanding of the study skills remains imperfect. Or rather, they do grasp what I'm telling them, but maybe it's my fault if they don't see the full significance of these techniques. I can't inspire them to see the true beauty of a Mind Map.
After a time, Fletcher Gull dragged himself into the sky and faced a brand-new group of students, eager for their first lesson.
"To begin with," he said heavily, "you've got to understand that a seagull is an unlimited idea of freedom, an image of the Great Gull, and your whole body, from wingtip to wingtip, is nothing more than your thought itself."
The young gulls looked at him quizzically. Come on, they thought, this doesn't sound like a rule for a loop.
How to explain the intricacies of making a Mind Map? At its best a Mind Map allows you to capture a thought as it shoots past, to distil it in a moment into a Key Word or Image and place it in its proper context on the page. Your thoughts flow freely from your brain, down your arm and onto the paper. Soon an order and a clarity emerge from the chaos. As each new idea slots easily into a group, or attaches to a branch, your understanding deepens and your excitement builds. Look - that fact over here actually links to that one over there! Quick, draw an arrow. The connections become more and more obvious until the spark of creativity illuminates the page and the Mind Map becomes a three-dimensional, infinite web of knowledge.
Fletcher sighed and started over. "Hm. Ah... very well," he said, and eyed them critically. "Let's begin with Level Flight."
... And though he tried to look properly severe for his students, Fletcher Seagull suddenly saw them all as they really were, just for a moment, and he more than liked, he loved what it was he saw.
The novelty of the strike has now completely worn off. Recently, wistful imaginings have plagued me. It would be nice to spend a week in a functioning, busy, noisy school. To go out in the playground at break-times and meet hundreds of pupils. And best of all I would have some authority and routine to support my course. Attendance would be automatic, instead of relying on my Leaders' self-discipline.
But on the other hand, there are advantages to my current situation. At least I know that the ones who do turn up are genuinely interested. And I'm not interrupting their normal lessons, because the unions have done that for me. Instead, for those who want it, I'm providing education during this otherwise wasted month.
As Dave the guitarist put it, 'you do the best you can with what you've got, where you are.' And with practice and patience, we can all learn to fly.
Hi Sally,
ReplyDeleteI've just read on the wires that the strike has been suspended. Hopefully you will have some time to teach before the end of your visit. BTW I loved the photo of you having your hair done, it was good to be able to put a face to the words. Take care, Sue xx