CHAPTER XIII

THE ARTIST TEACHER

=Teaching as a fine art.=--Teaching is an art. This fact has universal

recognition. But it may be made a fine art, a fact that is not so

generally recognized. The difference between the traditional school and

the vitalized school lies in the fact, to a large degree, that, in the

former, teaching is regarded merely as an art, while in the latter it

becomes a fine art. In the former, the teacher is an artisan; in the

latter the teacher is an artist. The difference is broadly significant.

The artisan, in his work, follows directions, plans, specifications, and

blue-prints that have been devised and designed by others; the artist

imbues his work with imagination. The artisan works by the day--so much

money for so many hours' work with pay day as his large objective; the

artist does not disdain pay day, but he has an objective beyond this and

has other sources of pleasure besides the pay envelope. The artisan

thinks and talks of pay day; the artist thinks and talks of his work.

The artisan drops his work when the bell rings; the artist is so

engrossed in his work that he does not hear the bell. The artisan plods

at his task with a grudging mien; the artist works in a fine frenzy.

=Characteristic qualities.=--It is not easy to find the exact words by

which to differentiate the traditional teacher from the artist teacher.

There is an elusive quality in the artist teacher which is not easily

reduced to or described by formal words. We know that the one is an

artist teacher and that the other is not. The formal examination may not

be able to discover the artist teacher, but there is a sort of knowledge

that transcends the findings of an examination, that makes her identity

known. She is a real flesh and blood person and yet she has a

distinctive quality that cannot be mistaken even though it eludes

description. She exhales a certain exquisiteness that reveals itself in

the delicacy and daintiness of her contact with people and the objective

world. Her impact upon the consciousness is no more violent than the

fragrance of the rose, but, all at once, she is there and there to stay,

modest, serene, and masterful.

She is as gentle as the dawn but as staunch as the oak. She has

knowledge and wisdom, and, better still, she has understanding; she

needs no diagram. Her gaze penetrates the very heart of a situation but

is never less than kindly, and her eyes are never shifty. Her aplomb,

her pose, and her poise belong to her quite as evidently as her hands.

She is genuine and altogether free from affectation. Her presence

stimulates without intoxicating, and she accepts the respect of people

with the same naturalness and grace as would accompany her acceptance of

a glass of water. Both the giver and the recipient of this respect are

ennobled by the giving. Indeed she would far rather have the respect of

people, her pupils included, than mere admiration, for she knows full

well that respect is far more deeply rooted in the spirit and bears

fruit that is more worth while. Her nature knows not inertia, but it

abounds in enterprise, endeavor, and courage that are born of a high

purpose.

=Joy in her work.=--Her teaching and her life do not occupy separate

compartments but are identical in time and space; only her teaching is

but one phase or manifestation of her life. She fitly exemplifies the

statement that "Art is the expression of man's joy in his work." She has

great joy in her work and, therefore, it is done as any other artist

does his work. She enjoys all life, including her work. Indeed, she has

contracted the habit of happiness and is so engrossed in the big

elemental things of life that she can laugh at the incidental pin-pricks

that others call troubles. She differentiates major from minor and never

permits a minor to usurp the throne. Being an integral part of her life,

her work takes on all the hues of her life. For her, culture is not

something added; rather it is a something that permeates her whole

nature and her whole life. She does not read poetry and other forms of

literature, study the great masterpieces of music and art, and seek

communion with the great, either in person or through their works--she

does not do these things that she may acquire culture, but does them

because she has culture.

=Dynamic qualities.=--Her character is the sum of all her habits of

thinking, feeling, and action and, therefore, is herself. Since she is

an artist, her habits are all pitched in a high key and she is culture

personified. Her immaculateness of body and spirit is not a superficial

acquisition but a fundamental expression of her real self. Just as the

electric bulb diffuses light, so she diffuses an atmosphere of culture.

She gives the artistic touch to every detail of her work because she is

an artist, a genuine, sincere artist in all that makes up life. She has

the heart of an artist, the eyes of an artist, the touch of an artist.

Whether these qualities are inherent or acquired is beside the point, at

present, but it may be remarked, in passing, that unless they were

capable of cultivation, the world would be at a standstill. There is no

place in her exuberant vitality for a jaundiced view, and hence her

world does not become "stale, flat, and unprofitable."

=Aspiration and worship.=--Every sincere, noble aspiration is a prayer;

hence, she prays without ceasing in obedience to the admonition of the

Apostle. And, let it be said in reverence, she helps to answer her own

prayers. Her spirit yearns out toward higher and wider attainments every

hour of the day, not morbidly but exultantly. And while she aspires she

worships. The starry sky holds her in rapt attention and admiration, and

the modest flower does no less. She is thankful for the rain, and revels

in the beauty and abundance of the snow. The heat may enervate, but she

is grateful, none the less, because of its beneficent influence upon the

farmer's work. Like food and sleep, her attitude of worship conserves

her powers and preserves her balance. When physical weariness comes, she

sends her spirit out to the star, or the sea, or the mountain, and so

forgets her burden in the contemplation of majesty and beauty. In short,

her spirit is attuned to all beauty and sublimity and truth, and so she

is inherently an artist.

=Professor Phelps quoted.=--In his very delightful book, "Teaching in

School and College," the author, Professor William Lyon Phelps, says: "I

do not know that I could make entirely clear to an outsider the pleasure

I have in teaching. I had rather earn my living by teaching than in any

other way. In my mind, teaching is not merely a life work, a profession,

an occupation, a struggle; it is a passion. I love to teach. I love to

teach as a painter loves to paint, as a musician loves to play, as a

singer loves to sing, as a strong man rejoices to run a race. Teaching

is an art--an art so great and so difficult to master that a man or a

woman can spend a long life at it, without realizing much more than his

limitations and mistakes, and his distance from the ideal. But the main

aim of my happy days has been to become a good teacher, just as every

architect wishes to be a good architect, and every professional poet

strives toward perfection. For the chief difference between the ambition

of the artist and the ambition of a money-maker--both natural and

honorable ambitions--is that the money-maker is after the practical

reward of his toil, while the artist wants the inner satisfaction that

accompanies mastery."

=Attitude toward work.=--To these sentiments the artist teacher

subscribes whole-heartedly, if not in words, certainly by her attitude

and practices. She regards her work not as a task but as a privilege,

and thinking it a privilege she appreciates it as she would any other

privilege. She would esteem it a privilege to attend a concert by

high-class artists, or to visit an art gallery, or to witness a

presentation of a great drama, or to see the Jungfrau; and she feels the

same exaltation as she anticipates her work as a teacher. She sings on

her way to school because of the privileges that await her. She

experiences a fine flow of sentiment without becoming sentimental.

Teaching, to her, is a serious business, but not, in the least, somber.

Painting is a serious business, but the artist's zeal and joy in his

work give wings to the hours. Laying the Atlantic cable was a serious

business, but the vision of success was both inspiring and inspiriting,

and temporary mishaps only served to stimulate to greater effort.

=The element of enthusiasm.=--To this teacher, each class exercise is an

enterprise that is big with possibilities; and, in preparation for the

event, she feels something of the thrill that must have animated

Columbus as he faced the sea. She estimates results more by the faces of

her pupils than by the marks in a grade book, for the field of her

endeavors is the spirit of the child, and the face of the child

telegraphs to her the awakening of the spirit. Like the sculptor, she is

striving to bring the angel of her dream into the face of the child; and

when this hope is realized, the privilege of being a teacher seems the

very acme of human aspirations. The animated face and the flashing eye

betoken the sort of life that her teaching aims to stimulate; and when

she sees these unmistakable manifestations, she knows that her big

enterprise is a success and rejoices accordingly. If, for any reason,

her enthusiasm is running low, she takes herself in hand and soon

generates the enthusiasm that she knows is indispensable to the success

of her enterprise.

=Redemption of common from commonplace.=--She has the supreme gift of

being able to redeem the common from the plane of the commonplace.

Indeed, she never permits any fact of the books to become commonplace to

her pupils. They all know that Columbus discovered America in 1492, but

when the recitation touches this fact she invests it with life and

meaning and so makes it glow as a factor in the class exercise. The

humdrum traditional teacher asks the question; and when the pupil drones

forth the answer, "Columbus discovered America in 1492," she dismisses

the whole matter with the phonographic response, "Very good." What a

farce! What a travesty upon the work of the teacher! Instead of being

very good, it is bad, yea, inexpressibly bad. The artist teacher does it

far better. By the magic of her touch she causes the imagination of her

pupils to be fired and their interest to thrill with the mighty

significance of the great event. They feel, vicariously, the poverty of

Columbus in his appeals for aid and wish they might have been there to

assist. They find themselves standing beside the intrepid mariner,

watching the angry waves striving to beat him back. They watch him

peering into space, day after day, and feel a thousand pities for him in

his suspense. And when he steps out upon the new land, they want to

shout out their salvos and proclaim him a victor.

=The voyage of Columbus.=--They have yearned, and striven, and prayed

with Columbus, and so have lived all the events of his great

achievements. Hence, it can never be commonplace in their thinking. The

teacher lifted it far away from that plane and made it loom high and

large in their consciousness. A dramatic critic avers that the action of

the play occurs, not upon the stage, but in the imagination of the

auditors; that the players merely cause the imagination to produce the

action; and that if nothing were occurring in the imagination of the

people in the seats beyond what is occurring on the stage, the audience

would leave the theater by way of protest. The artist teacher acts upon

this very principle in every class exercise. Neither the teacher nor the

book can possibly depict even a moiety of all that she hopes to produce

in the imagination of the pupils. She is ever striving to find the one

word or sentence that will evoke a whole train of events in their minds.

Just here is where her superb art is shown. A whole volume could not

portray all that the imagination of the pupils saw in connection with

the voyage of Columbus, and yet the teacher caused all these things to

happen by the use of comparatively few words. This is high art; this

proclaims the artist teacher.

=Resourcefulness.=--In her work there is a fineness and a delicacy of

touch that baffles a satisfactory analysis. She has the power to call

forth Columbus from the past to reënact his great discovery in the

imagination of her pupils--all without noise, or bombast, or

gesticulation. She does what she does because she is what she is; and

she needs neither copyright nor patent for protection. Her work is

suffused with a rare sort of enthusiasm that carries conviction by

reason of its genuineness. This enthusiasm gives to her work a tone and

a flavor that can neither be disguised nor counterfeited. Her work is

distinctive, but not sensational or pyrotechnic. Least of all is it ever

hackneyed. So resourceful is she in devising new plans and new ways of

saying and doing things that her pupils are always animated by a

wholesome expectancy. She is the dynamo, but the light and heat that she

generates manifest themselves in the minds of her pupils, while she

remains serene and quiet.

=The thirteen colonies.=--With the poet Keats she can sing:

Beauty is truth, truth beauty, that is all

Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.

Animated by this sentiment, she disdains no form of truth, whether large

or small, for in every form of truth she finds beauty; and her spirit

reacts to it on the instant, and joy is the resultant. This is the basis

for her superb enthusiasm in every detail of her work as well as the

source of her joyous living. Her pupils may name the thirteen original

colonies without a slip, but that is not enough for her. The

establishing of these colonies formed a mighty epoch in history, and she

must dwell upon the events until they throb through the life currents of

her pupils. Names in books must mean people with all their hopes, their

aspirations, their trials and hardships, their sorrows and their joys.

The conditions of life, the food, the clothing, the houses, the modes of

travel, and the dangers must all come into the mental picture. Hence it

is that she prepares for the lesson on the colonies as she would make

ready for a trip with the pupils around the world, and the mere giving

of names is negligible in her inspiring enterprise.

=Every subject invested with life.=--She finds in the circulation of the

blood a subject of great import and makes ready for the lesson with

enthusiastic anticipation. Her step is elastic as she takes her way to

school on this particular day, and her face is beaming, for to-day comes

to the children this stupendous revelation. She feels as did the college

professor when he was just ready to begin an experiment in his

laboratory and said to his students, "Gentlemen, please remove your

hats; I am about to ask God a question." She approaches every truth

reverently, albeit joyously, for she feels that she is the leader of the

children over into the Promised Land. In the book already quoted,

Professor Phelps says, "I read in a German play that the mathematician

is like a man who lives in a glass room at the top of a mountain covered

with eternal snow--he sees eternity and infinity all about him, but not

much humanity." Not so in her teaching of mathematics; for every subject

and every problem transports her to the Isle of Patmos, and the hour is

crowded with revelations.

=Human interest.=--And wherever she is, there is humanity. There are no

dry bones in her work, for she invests every subject with human interest

and causes it to pulsate in the consciousness of her pupils. If there

are dry bones when she arrives, she has but to touch them with the magic

of her humanity, and they become things of life. Whether long division

or calculus, it is to her a part of the living, palpitating truth of the

world, and she causes it to live before the minds of the pupils. The

so-called dead languages spring to life in her presence, and, like

Aaron's rod, blossom and bring forth at her touch. Wherever she walks

there are resurrections because life begets life. No science, no

mathematics, no history, no language, can be dull or dry when touched by

her art, but all become vital because she is vital. By the subtle

alchemy of her artistic teaching all the subjects of her school are

transmuted into the pure gold of truth and beauty.

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. What kinds of arts are there other than the fine arts?

2. How do the motives of the artisan differ from those of the artist?

3. What are some of the characteristics that gain one the distinction of

being an "artist" teacher?

4. Show that to enjoy respect is more worth while than to attract

admiration.

5. Under what conditions can one have joy in his work? Can one do his

best without it?

6. What is the result on one's work of brooding over troubles?

7. Henry Ford employs trained sociologists who see that the home

relations of his employees are satisfactory. Why?

8. Is one who reads good literature to acquire culture as yet an

"artist" teacher?

9. What constitutes character?

10. What is the inference concerning one's culture if his clothes and

body are not clean? If his property at the school is not in order?

11. How can one add to his culture? Is what one knows or what one does

the more important part of it? Has a high degree of culture been

attained by a person who must ever be on his guard?

12. Is feeling an important element of culture? Illustrate.

13. What is the teacher's chief reward?

14. Can a teacher lead pupils to regard work as a privilege rather than

as a task, unless she has that attitude herself?

15. In what respects do you regard teaching as a privilege? In what

respects is it drudgery to you?

16. Can enthusiasm result if there is a lack of joy in one's work? If

there is a deficiency of physical strength? If there is a poor knowledge

of the subject?

17. What causes historical facts to seem commonplace?

18. What elements should be emphasized in history to make it seem alive

with meaning?

19. What principle of the drama comes into play in teaching, when a

teacher desires to invest the subject with life?

20. What advantages are there in having variety in one's plans?

21. Why should one avoid the sensational in school work? What are the

characteristics of sensationalism? Is the fact that a class is unusually

aroused a reason for decrying a method as sensational?

22. With what spirit should a teacher prepare to teach about the

thirteen colonies?

23. Why should a teacher have great joy in the teaching of science?

24. Is interest in a subject as an abstract science likely to be an

adequate interest? If so, is it the best sort of interest? Why?

25. From what should interest start, and in what should it function?

26. Summarize the ways in which the artist teacher will show herself the

artist.

The Vitalized School · 第 13 / 25 章