
This past summer I posted on problems of Hermeneutics within the notion of blogging itself. In the comments to the post, Professor Stanzler wrote that there is an element of faith in this type of communication. I could not agree more. Exactly how to define this faith is something that has bothered me for a long time. Every time that words come out of my mouth, they can be taken the wrong way. Every time that I write something on my blog, it can be interpreted in a manner far from what I intended. Communication is a fragile enterprise, but there is nothing more important.
Sharing meaning is a dangerous business. Unless you are a clairvoyant of some kind, you are unable to step directly into the mind of another. (And if you are a clairvoyant, stay away from me. There are moments when my inner life lacks dignity.) This leaves us only two real options: sharing time and touch with another, and the use of language. Giving someone your time and touch, two things that cannot be reproduced, is perhaps the only ways to truly convey a meaningful message to someone. (This is the essential conclusion behind the work of scholar John Durham Peters.) A hug means more than telling someone to feel better, holding someone's hand means more than any poem, a lifetime of fidelity means more than all of the words of love ever written. However, most people are very careful with whom they share their time and touch - so we arrive at option number two. The second way that we attempt to share meaning is through the use of language, but as Peters notes and most agree with, words are crude representations of inner life. Yet, so crude as they may be in representation, they play a more important role for us than many realize.
This importance is perhaps suggested to us in The Phenomenology of Spirit, a beautiful book by German philosopher GWF Hegel. To probably oversimplify, Hegel wrote that ‘there is no self without the other.’ While he goes on to argue the less convincing point that there is no real inside and one cannot know what they really think or feel without the presence of others, his point is an important one. How would you know that you exist without the recognition of others? You recognize me; I exist. I recognized you; you exist. Together we enable humanity.
This recognition is enabled primarily through the use of language. Thus, it seems to me that existence as we know it is built upon a very two interesting foundations. The more stable recognition, that of time and touch, is essentially what propels humanity into the future (given a specific interpretation of the two words together). The second, more fickle, foundation of existence is that of language. So why does this matter for a teacher?
Language is the tool of a teacher. I guess the point I’m trying to get at here is be careful to acknowledge all of your students – a smiley on an assignment, a word here, a small conversation there – sometimes such words do more than assess and acknowledge. Some kids can go through a school day without speaking a word. At times, I was one of those students in high school. Ghosts do walk through our schools. It is possible to not-exist for hours at a time. How does it feel when you write a blog and no one comments on it? It’s almost like the post doesn’t exist. Words, as frightening as they can be when you’re trying to share your inner world, can mean more than you think.

