this i believe: that education is a gift. in all of its forms. shared experiences, travel, reading, conversation... these are all the means by which we learn; the ways in which our values are tested; the opportunities we have to come into contact with others and, even more importantly, ourselves.

i'm teaching on an irish literature module this semester, something - i suspect - which will be as disheartening as it will be insightful.

it's sad to see a gift squandered. sad to suspect that 50% of the class haven't read the novel they are attempting to discuss. sad to know that they have chosen, for whatever reasons, to take the module but may only experience a very limited education.

i wish i could walk away and forget about it. i know the theory: these are adults who have chosen to be here; i am not a teacher, i am assisting with their learning...

but walking out of that class i feel this ache in my gut. for the gift of time and education that being on an arts and humanities degree provides and for the tragic lack of comprehension of this gift on the faces of some of my class...

i received an email today from someone whose life often reminds me that education is a kaleidoscopic affair. whether it comes from reading a 19th century anglo-irish novel, or from a conversation that begins inside a skip, the results can be the same. something has been connected (between a person and the page; between people), something has probably sparked, some alteration is underway...

all i'm looking for is a smidgen of openness. for the people in my class to let that connection, spark and alteration happen.

i hope it happens soon. for now, i suppose i'll let my education in education continue.