Free Board Blackboard photo and picture

“…when discovery and exploration and curiosity become your path – then basically, if you follow your heart, you’re going to find that it’s often extremely inconvenient….”


A well-known Buddhist nun wrote those words. A former teacher, her sentiments are essential to understanding modern life and, as it turns out, current challenges in education.


You see, once there was education, quite different from today, with almost no technology (unless you count reel to reel and overhead projectors). No computers; no big screen at the front of a classroom and no screen on every desk. There were just books and pens and paper and, well, education. It was more the path of discovery, exploration and curiosity. But, that process was demanding, so messy, so time consuming and all together inconvenient. So streamliners emerged and promoted personal computers for all. It was the start of the EdTech revolution. Nobody bothered to figure out its effect on education, but it sure was profitable…and convenient.


Here is another example. College students today cannot quite imagine a college lecture without publisher-produced slides. These polished presentations cram data onto a large screen as the class frantically keyboards it all into notes upon their tiny computer screens. Professors mumble on, only partly heard. You see, slides in many undergraduate courses relate to texts and both come from the same corporate publishing house. Text and slide based lectures tend to have little variation and always the same author perspective. This amounts to an unfortunately narrow view of the subject for both teacher and student. But it is terribly convenient!


Of course, some teachers try to address the problem. They hand out copies of the module slide deck for note-taking (but a slide is still a slide). Some, thank goodness, limit the data presented on each slide into a sleek visual like a Ted Talk. Still, for those of us who remember the pre-slide era, nostalgia rules like the once ubiquitous chalkboard (precursor to the whiteboard). Chalk dust, like a tiny cloud of floating ideas, emanated from intense cracks and scratches at the board. Not static like a slide, the chalkboard allowed for spontaneous contributions by students and new ideas from teachers in real time. Erasure and rewrites were common as was a sudden turn from the board to engage the class. Engagement!


This nostalgic view should be tempered by the fact that some classes then as now were not so good, just as then as well as now, some teachers are not so good. As a famous Buddhist teacher once stated “nostalgia for samsara is full of shit”. Samsara cycles birth, death and rebirth fueled by ignorance. This short essay cannot resist a tangential analogy to that publisher based college course birthing, dying and birthing yet again each semester.


Today colleges face a new temptation for ultimate convenience: artificial intelligence. Looking for short cuts, student’s copy and paste questions and prompts into ChatGPT which generates a discussion reply, essay or term paper…instantly. No thinking required! Similarly, online examinations are completed with near perfection and with elapsed time less than would be required to actually read each test item. This practice appeared to emerge during the Pandemic when education was thrust online with little forethought and no guardrails. Using AI in school became standard practice for many otherwise honest students. So convenient!


The practice continues despite persuasive research findings that show AI use results in student “cognitive off-loading” and a diminishment of critical thinking. After all, learning to write is essential to learning to think. Writing is a primary tool for cognitive development. The struggle for clarity and precision of the written word, for the reasoned argument, is the struggle to become a clear thinker, a critical thinker. But becoming a critical thinker is quite inconvenient.


Most professors lamented AI use among students. Some of them resisted with in class writing or sharing drafts toward a final, original submission. But others rationalized their own use of this tech to produce lecture notes, (sadly) more slides and even as a means to grade papers.


Think of it: An AI generated essay scored by an AI generated rubric. Both students and teachers freed from the learning process at long last. Education had become entirely convenient!


What about the overseers? College Administrators were in a quandary. Long ago, most colleges had adopted a business model for education where students were consumers and the customer is, as they say, always right. Investments were made in great auditoriums and stadiums but mostly toward student convenience. There were trigger warnings and lots of handholding. There were interactive white boards, virtual reality simulations and AI software. Convenience sells.


The administrative goal was to fill seats and generate income. A good chunk of that revenue was devoted to hiring more and more Administrators who were not so much on the side of real teaching and not so much on the side of real learning. Most were, understandably, on the side of the college business model. They believed they could not stop AI use so they hired Consultants to rationalize that AI use in college was actually a very good thing.


But learning grows in the muck of inconvenience. “No Mud, no Lotus” as Thay famously said. Consider again bygone days and how we best learn, digging into research and being challenged by contrary ideas; composing and re-composing a paragraph; even a sentence…or the exquisite agony of finding just the right word.


Groundswell movements emerged to challenge the convenience of technology. Phones were banned in many classrooms. Computers too. Some evidence shows that physical books and handwritten notes foster learning so much better than EdTech. Quiet keyboarding gave way to loud conversation and exploration. Let Them Grow movements arose. Children and teens were persuaded to interact with each other and solve problems without a phone or parental interface…a great prep for higher education and life.


Maybe the chalkboard will make a comeback too.

Free books study reading vector

Tell me a story!

It’s a child’s plea whispered or even demanded (so often at the twilight of bedtime). These stories might be ancient or hot off the presses or made up by parents on the spot. But it is undeniable that kids need to hear those tales, featuring the irresistible protagonist who is none other than themselves.


And the tale so often invokes an antagonist and antagonisms aplenty. There are conflicts conquered, with lessons and morals and life instructions toward “living happily ever after”. Now that’s a good story!


With children, we do not need to explain how the mechanism of storytelling puts them at the center of every plot. They just know! Perhaps that is because our brains are story-attracted brains from the start. Stories promote life lessons, socialization and the assimilation of values. Such a brain has evolutionary advantages for groups, individuals and their progeny.


Story-attracted brains actually think in stories; we become the story. From early on we think in narratives that consist of thoughts and images often propelled by emotion. We remember in stories and we plan in them too. These capacities are an advantage to survival, and maybe sometimes, our happiness.


The story-oriented mind can bring people together with common cause narrations and shared advantage for all. Good stories. Of course, some stories pull groups apart. And competing narratives can and do pit tribes against one another with spats and rumbles and wars. Within individuals, negative thoughts can unleash stories of war upon the self. These can degrade to self-contempt and self-destruction. Lesser outcomes might include a bad day, un-satisfactoriness and deflation. Those are the bad stories.


Perhaps one of the most insidious, if not altogether bad, functions of stories is to inflate a compensatory, false self: “me, Me, ME”. Sometimes called our “storyline”, these ubiquitous narratives address deflation with an armor of conceit or worse: an over zealous selfishness and sense of entitlement.


Such a problem has led some to consider the alternative of inner quiet and no story at all. We could drop our self-serving storylines and engage fully with life on life’s terms. No agenda. No scheming. The trouble is most find it hard if not impossible to go from bad stories to no story at all. Those bad stories seem to grip us…and if we are honest, many of us hold on tightly to them too.


How might we proceed?


While difficult at first, we could start attending to good stories that reduce narratives imbued with automatic negative thoughts, and rest in our blessings. We nudge forward stories that promote themes of loving kindness, compassion, generosity and serenity. With imperfect but consistent effort those personal narratives slowly change.


What else? We could unplug from compulsions with social media and be inspired by the myths, parables, koans and chronicles that highlight our basic goodness and wisdom. These perennial philosophies abound across time and space, so we should pause and listen.


While bad stories anchor us to egotisms within and between human beings, good stories seem to calm us, even liberate us. We could be delivered, moments at a time into the serenity of no story at all:


that wonderful pause and silence at the end of every outbreath.

We scribble in our first efforts to express the basic need to lay pencil or crayon to surfaces of all kinds. We mark on paper and coloring books as well as on floors and walls and sometimes across the pages of hardcover classics (sorry, mom).


These child-arts foreshadow drawing and painting and symbol making and alphabet. We write.
And for some of us, writing may become more than a requirement of school or the workplace. For some of us, it channels an expressive need innate to our character. Some with exceptional talent create and publish poems and works of non-fiction and fiction. For others, less talented, but wholly committed, the journal beckons.


There is in the Buddhist Tradition a Path, with 8 overlapping divisions (no claims of expertise here). These are sometimes called “Right” as in “Right Understanding”. Not right in the sense of right-wrong so much as right in the sense of wise. To write is right in the latter sense; it is wise to make this effort (Another of the Eight, “Right Effort”). Sometimes words flow in the journaling process and sometimes they are painfully stuck, yet we stay with it.


These words, flowing or stuck, reflect and express our Thought (another of the Eight, “Right Thought”). And so it goes in this thought-to-word written process. Akin to effort, there is a discipline to it all beginning with the intention (“Right Intention”) to write, a vow to write. In a very real sense, writing could then become a ritual, a Rite. This is a practice that supports and is supported by concentration and mindfulness (two others of the Eight).


Write. Right. Rite.


Perhaps for the talented few mentioned earlier, it all could become “Right Livelihood” and a vocation. For the rest of us, a practice like journaling is its own magic. Digging deep, thought transformed by reframing negativities and underscoring our basic goodness brings a more honest and accurate quality to our never-ending storylines. We face and write down those oh so automatic negative thoughts… thoughts that feature our flaws, shames and traumas could be bravely confronted and released instead of repeated over and over again. And as we write, all the forgotten gifts, large or small, the hugs and winks and even the tiniest acts of kindness, given or received, could move to the foreground.

Thought slowly transformed has effects. It informs what we say and choose not to say (“Right Speech”). It informs what we do and choose not to do (“Right Action”). Unending, this practice is revelatory and timeless, unearthing joys and challenges in the ever-changing story of our past, present and future: The deep blessing of our one and only life.


Write. Right. Rite