Reflections on Teaching

“Remember all I’ve told you,” Daedalus said. “Above all, remember you must not fly too high or too low. If fly too low, the ocean sprays will clog your wings and make them too heavy. If you fly too high, the heat of the sun will melt the wax, and your wing will fall apart. Stay close to me, and you’ll be fine.”

Up they rose, the boy after his father, and  the hateful groudn of Crete sank far beneath them. As they flew the plowman stopped his work to gaze, nd the shepherd leaned on his staff to watch them, and the people came running out of their houses to catch a a glimpse of the two figures high above the treetops. Surely they were gods–Apollo, perhaps, with Cupid after him.

At first the flight seemed terrible to both Daedalus and Icarus. The wide, endless sky dazed them, and even the quickest glance down made their brains reel. But gradually they grew used to riding among the clouds, and they lost their fear. Icarus felt the wind fill his wings and lift him higher and higher, and began to sense a freedom he had never known before. He looked down with great excitement at all the islands they passed and their people, and as the broad blue sea spread out beneath him, dotted with the white sails of ships. He soared higher and higher, forgetting his father’s warning. He forgot everything in the world but joy.

“Come back!” Daedalus called frantically. “You’re flying too high! Remember the sun! Come down! Come down!”

But Icarus thought of nothing but his own excitement and glory. He longed to fly as close as he could to the heavens…

p 83  from “The Book of Virtues for Young People: A Treasury of Great Moral Stories” by William John Bennett

I never really appreciated the story of Icarus until I taught sixth grade. I had heard the story, and thought of it as a simple moral tale meant to teach the lesson of obeying ones parents to young people which Mr. Bennett reiterates in the “bang them over the head with the moral” intro to this story. I always thought of it from Icarus’ point of view, and that is the view that dominates in most versions of this story. Look at it above, we feel Icarus’ joy and elation as he soars ever higher, and all we get from Daedalus is lots of warnings, and fear. But having been there at that crucial moment when you’re handing off a  child to adolescence, when you share their joy (the moment where “they lost their fear”), even as you long to protect them, you long for their independence. There is no way that Daedalus wants his son to grow up imprisoned on Crete.  They have to leave, he has to take this risk, he has to trust that Icarus will follow his advice. Icarus’ longing, hope, and heartbreak as events unfold, I missed all of that until I taught twelve year olds, and now I have an eleven year old of my own.

I could share heartbreaking stories of students flying too close to the sun and getting burned, but instead, I’m going to share a story that turned out much differently than expected. Sorry, sometimes I just roll like that. A co-worker recently related the story of running into a former student who is now leaving his teens. The student when at our elementary was showing signs that he was at a “high-risk” for joining a gang (emulating gang behavior, lack of interest in studies, thuggishness with peers). Flash forward to a couple weeks ago when my co-worker ran into him, gainfully employed at a store my co-worker went into, and going to Community College. He mentioned some interventions that came into his life after he had left us. When kids leave the smaller environment of elementary school, we really worry that they will fall between the cracks, so it was good to hear that didn’t happen. He also seemed to have some memories from his time at our school site that kept him on the right path.  I’m glad that we could inspire him.  I’m even gladder he had some services as he grew older, and we’re all glad that  my co-worker’s fears were proved wrong.