Reflections on Leaving Teaching

It's been a little over three weeks since I made my way to Maine via Paris and Boston, much of the time spent reflecting on the teaching job I have decided to leave. One thing is certain, though, I have not entered onto the tiring treadmill of self-doubt. No, it's the right thing to do, and the right time, and from the right school (On a Facebook post I said that it was "bittersweet. Mostly sweet."). On my return to Bangkok, I will be venturing into another educational arena, that of consulting--been there, done that, but not done enough of it. This time, it will be with an agency that advises the Thai Ministry of Education so it will be an interesting challenge. 


But back to reflecting on my educational career so far. Teaching has been its own reward and punishment, being lifted by creative and innovative colleagues and students one day, slogging through the misery of bureaucracy, laziness and stupidity the next. I have worked at some of the world's best international schools, and at some that miraculously survive the foundation of incompetence on which they rest. The school I am leaving lies somewhere between the two, and fortunately closer to the excellent ones, and one day may join the top tier, but only if it undergoes a major attitude and philosophy adjustment in which it recognizes and honors excellence, and decides to lead rather than follow. All the right ingredients are there; it just doesn't have the right chef. How can one cook cordon bleu if content to flip burgers? And not just flip burgers, but spend inordinate amounts of time and expense making the "perfect" burger because haute cuisine costs too much. Then, charge less for the burgers on the assumption that cost is the only consideration for patrons. 


What I have determined in my four decades in education that excellence doesn't just show up, it has to be planned, cultivated and nurtured. For a school, it means finding proven outstanding teachers, and keeping them; providing a rigorous and creative atmosphere for learning; and having supportive administrators that encourage innovation rather than playing it safe to be like every other school. Once those are in place, the talented students start arriving, and word spreads, swelling the institution with happy energy. I have worked in more than ten schools, and only three would fill those requirements. I would like to say that I left teaching while at one of those three, but I did not. Close, but...no.


And yet I have developed close professional and friendly relationships with some of the finest teachers I've ever met while at my latest school. It's little wonder that the school loses many outstanding educators; what is unfortunate is that the director does not recognize it, nor, apparently, does he care. After forty-one years of trying to make a difference in the lives of students and fellow teachers, and bumping up against the mandatory retirement age, it is time to make my exit from teaching.


There are times when I wonder if I did any good at all during my teaching career, and I have lately gone that route in my musings. I do know for certain that some of what I have taught is trivial and largely meaningless to students (Lately, an education colleague and I were building a cabin and during our problem-solving with hammers and other tools realized that it made absolutely no difference if we knew which class of lever we were using, but for some reason we require students to memorize them, usually without even seeing if they knew how to use them). Education systems world-wide have only toe-tested the deep waters of authentic learning. Again and again I ran into walls of resistance--from administrators, students, parents and even colleagues--when venturing into the wonders of learning through inquiry and independent exploration, mainly because it did not fit into the comfortable schema of traditional schooling or the prescribed curriculum. I know that what is needed is a serious analysis of education and a new foundation. Well, not new at all, but proposed by John Dewey nearly a century ago. How I would love to be part of any school that operated on that premise. I would even consider making a comeback.


Oh, well. One has his chance during his time, and I have had mine. Now, in an ironic twist, I turn to consulting for a country's Ministry of Education that is looking to change its archaic rote system. Maybe this time I will have better luck. Time will tell.

Re-visiting Ayutthaya

Wat Mahatat Buddha detail, Ayutthaya

One of the top tourist destinations in Thailand is the ancient capital, Ayutthaya, a mere hour from Bangkok by train. Founded in 1350, Ayutthaya is a former capital of Thailand, which was overrun and destroyed by the Burmese only 300 years ago. Our purpose was not to sight-see per se, as we had been there many times, but to introduce our daughter Plu to the sites and history. Despite her seven + years in a foster family only 60 kilometers north of Ayutthaya, she had never been there. Come to think of it, she had never been on a train. So, it was a weekend full of firsts for Plu.

Our adventure began on a third class train that slowly made its way from northeast Bangkok. I have yet to figure out how to purchase a second class seat, but if one is fairly  tolerant and wishes to experience the "real" Thailand, then third class--open windows and some partially functioning overhead fans--is the way to go. Besides, who can't stand 90+F (32C) heat for an hour? And you can't beat the fare: 20 baht (60 cents) each.

Shortly into our voyage, we secured seats with the help of a friendly conductor and settled in for the short hop to Ayutthaya through rice fields and along litter-strewn tin shanty towns that cropped up periodically along the tracks. Passengers chatted, dozed and largely stared during the steamy trip, occasionally stopping droning vendors to purchase plastic-wrapped rice meals or--in my case--cold beer that was packed in ice-filled thermos coolers. The vendors plied the aisles continuously, hawking their wares. At some stops, passengers leaned out the window to buy ice cream from platform-based sellers.

On the train to Ayutthaya

Once in Ayutthaya, we negotiated a reduced but still over-priced tuk-tuk ride to our accommodation and were pleasantly surprised to see that it (found in the online crap shoot) was fabulous. Outside of the old city, the area was nothing memorable, but the guest house suite was furnished in the old Ayutthaya style, complete with beds on teak platforms. Lush vegetation and old statuary graced the courtyard.

Apparently, there are no safety restrictions on tuk-tuks.

Antique terracotta urns in the guest house courtyard

Our first venture was to head to Wat Mahatat, famous for its dramatic chedis (pagodas) and iconic Buddha head entwined by centuries of tree root growth. We had the place pretty much to ourselves, which is unusual, and the few tourists that did enter the grounds were Thai. Wandering through what once was a majestic and busy temple of the Thai kings was peaceful and reflective. Across the street from the wat, we enjoyed a Thai meal, then headed to a nearby street market. Our tour of the market was interrupted by a dramatic electrical storm and downpour that sent us scurrying for cover under the tarp roof of a street-side restaurant where we waited until we could catch a tuk-tuk back to the guest house.

Approaching storm over Wat Mahatat ruins

The next day afforded me an early morning bike tour of the neighboring areas of some of the ruins and modern temples more distant from the city center. The air was, well, not cool, but certainly not yet hot, jasmine scent filled the still air, and the low sun lent a glow to the temples and ruins. I have never felt that a return visit to Ayutthaya has been anything other than a new experience. Of course we will go back many times.

Wat Kasatrathirat Worawihan detail.

Morning sun on ancient chedis (pagodas), Wat Chai Watthanaram

Gulf of Thailand Moods at Dolphin Bay

Those who live near the sea, or visit it often, know that it has many moods, and those can change quickly. Recently, we spent five days south of Hua Hin, on a popular quiet stretch of beach known as Phu Noi, or "Dolphin Bay" to the many western farang (foreigners) who have discovered its simple beauty and peacefulness. Each day, I rose before sunrise to walk along the edge of the sea and experience the dawn. For me, the best time was between 5:45 and 6:30, the time when the squid fishermen returned, and the sky displayed its most dramatic colors and light effects, reflected in the calm waters. 

These photos were taken using two different Canon cameras, both digital formats: an EOS 350D SLR, and a 12.1 megapixel Ixus 115 HS pocket camera. Some of the photos have been enhanced using iPhoto, but others are as the camera decided to capture the scene. Copyright John Stiles Photography 2012, all rights reserved.