Blog#5 Don’t let (little) people sit in sh!t

The reading this week definitely gave pause for reflection.  Parker Palmer said, “We are not fully human until we recognize what we know and take responsibility for it.”  Turning our head or doing things just because it’s part of the job or not part of our job are not acceptable excuses for not taking a human stand when necessary.  Palmer also said we are “in but not of” the institutions.  Dan Edelstein wrote about a liberal education that promotes “independently minded individuals” and Dr. Sonia Henry wrote about medical students losing their empathy. The writings reminded me to do the right thing, the human thing, and what I would want someone to do for me or my children.  I could share and say academic things that relate to this, but instead I’ll share a story about basic human needs. 

If you have a weak stomach or you are eating, don’t read the rest of this blog.  Not too long ago, I walked into the office to the most putrid smell I have ever smelled. It filled the entire office to the point where I thought I would vomit.  When I asked my secretary what happened, she motioned to a little boy and said mom was on her way (she lives about 5 minutes from the school).  The kindergarten boy had an explosion…the kind where there was brown up and down the back, coming out the socks and shoes, and everywhere in between. The mother had given the child a laxative and it hit him while he was on the bus riding to school.  We always have spare clothes for kids who have accidents and the staff is happy to help out, but this was going to require a shower.  When nobody showed up, I looked at my Assistant Principal and said get a bag and off we went to the nurse’s office loaded with wipes, clean clothes, and a little boy who needed somebody to the right thing. I told him I had a little boy once and that it was ok to have an accident.  I cleaned him up from chest to toe and handed the soiled wipes to my AP while she held the bag.  I told her that sometimes you have to override the decisions of others and do what is right for the child.  Some people were willing to let that little one sit there until mom arrived (which didn’t happen until 40 minutes later).  When I brought him back to my office all cleaned up, I asked him if he felt better.  He didn’t say a word, he just walked over and gave me a big hug.  As the principal of an elementary school, I can definitely say my most important job that day was to do the human thing and clean some poop.  I told my AP that the lesson of the day was, we don’t let kids sit in sh!t.

Connecting The Dots – Reflection

 

I have served as a teaching assistant and instructor in my time for several courses at the Virginia Tech.   The Contemporary pedagogy class has helped me to reflect on my teaching method, style, and strategies. But it has also made me think and rethink whether I want to continue teaching in my time in the United States. This brought me to crucial question what purpose do I seek from teaching and what should be my politics?

During my time at Virginia Tech, I heard several stories by Ph.D. graduate students of the experience of teaching undergraduate classes. The teaching experiences of my colleagues differed based on discipline, gender, nationality, race, etc. My best friend, who I spent almost every single day of my academic life working on several projects together, also taught classes in the political science department. He comes across as a white male with a mid-west English accent. His experience of teaching hugely varied from mine. He often got outstanding SPOT scores, good comments; students sent him to thank you messages, etc. My experience was the opposite. Being a woman of color, speaking English in desi accent, acceptance by the student remained a significant difficulty. I always had to try harder from him, and I had a lot to more to emotionally process. The rolling eyes of the students, rude emails, and not following instructions properly are a few things to mention. I vividly remember when one of my students used a racial slur to address me in front of my class.  I also want to acknowledge, I have got good responses and acknowledgments of my work in the class from students of color, international student, and students coming from the immigrant families.

I kept saying to myself, “It’s not me; it’s them.” But then I always questioned myself why to get into this emotional ordeal every year. What purpose do I achieve? As an advocate for subaltern rights, I have been a firm believer of the fact that education is the most empowering tool for the marginalized population. It gives the ability to recognize oppression and the ability to act over it. But as a social movement theorist, one of my key learnings have been to be strategic. ‘Being Strategic’ means when and how to act in a manner that you can be most effective in achieving the intended goals.

My best friend graduated this semester, and we talked over our aspirations for the future. He wants to focus on teaching. He enjoys teaching and feels that he can be an effective teacher. In my case, if given a choice I would not like to teach again in a predominantly white school. (But if I have to, I  teach, to sustain myself). Students in these schools have a sense of entitlement and instructors like me struggle to be more effective. I think if I have limited time in the United States I want to focus on research then teaching.

 

 

Things I am going to keep in mind as a future teacher

The practice of education has probably the biggest impact on our society, starting from the scale of an individual to shaping the future of life on earth. Before taking this course of contemporary pedagogy, my perception of education like many others was very much limited to the idea of exchange of knowledge between the educator and the student. My thoughts on being a good teacher would revolve around only how to become a more efficient facilitator of the technical knowledge. There are numerous other facets, like taking into consideration inclusion, diversity, ethical issues, the human factors that would extend a teacher-student relationship beyond the classroom, that makes the process of education complete.

Every year my PhD advisor creates an yearly family newsletter sharing the events of his family with all his students. I find this really sweet, it lets me know that my advisor is not just a great scientist, he is a great father and husband who loves to spend time with his family! And this knowledge affects the dynamics of my interaction with him, allowing it to be more informal and personal. For the class that I am a TA for, the professor asks the students to write something good or positive about their exam on the top of their test paper. Among the wide variety of things they write, one of the students addressed the professor as “the fantastical Mr. S”! This caught my attention and immediately made me happy and made the tedious task of grading much enjoyable. There are innumerable ways to connect to our students, and making such human connections goes a long way in making a classroom a better place not just for learning the subject, but to be a more respecting, thoughtful, appreciating and tolerant person.

Just like every research topic needs a good motivation, learning a subject becomes way more interesting once we know why we are learning it and how it affects the world we live in. It is imperative for students to be aware of the ethical issues, the environmental impacts, the interdisciplinary crossroads that surrounds a topic for them to have a complete expertise on the subject. My biggest takeaway from this course was that it forced me to think about teaching as a much more comprehensive practice of sharing not only knowledge, but also emotions.


She Believed She Could So She Did

I wrote this “Personal Statement” in January for an award nomination dossier.  I would have connected the dots for this class in a new statement but I feel this one does it best, for me.  Tools I’ve learned, and read about, in this class will enhance my skills at being the best teacher I can be.  Above all else, I promise to never stop learning how to be a better teacher.

I hated my high school math teachers.  One asked why I wanted to be an engineer instead of an actress (I loved Advanced Drama class).  The other said, “You’ll never be an engineer”.  Despite their violation of everything teachers should stand for I was certain I would become an engineer.  Thankfully Virginia Tech thought so, too, and granted me early acceptance into the engineering program.

While taking a full load of 18 credit hours per semester I spent my weekends as a ski instructor at a resort a couple of hours away.  Snow skiing was my sport and I was following a long line of instructors in my family.  We taught lessons while it snowed, while it rained, underneath snow blowers, when it was below zero.  The conditions didn’t matter because there was such joy in seeing someone who had never skied before or who lacked coordination “get it” and smile with pride at what they had accomplished with my help.

I graduated with a Bachelor of Science in Mechanical Engineering and was thrilled to address the first two graduation announcements to those math teachers who did not believe in me.  While working my first job after graduation I wanted to find something fun to do in my free time.  I became a math tutor at Sylvan Learning Center.  Two evenings a week, I would sit with students who struggled with math, who did not want to be hanging out with me talking about math.  The challenge did not matter because I found such joy in seeing them “get it” and smile with pride because they finally understood fractions.

My career progressed and I found myself working for a 3D CAD modeling software company.  Part of my job was giving demonstrations about how the software worked.  Sometimes I would be a consultant for a customer and go on-site to help them use the program to design their own products.  The drafters and engineers were not always happy about being told they had to use this new software.  It was not what they were used to and most adults do not like forced change.  It was a struggle to get through to them, sometimes, but it was worth it because I found such joy in seeing them “get it” and realize that their jobs would be easier because they had learned this new tool with my help.

I worked for nine years at an engineering and manufacturing company in roles of increasing responsibility.  It was an amazing learning opportunity because I got to work in different departments including design, quality, manufacturing, purchasing and eventually the continuous improvement group.  I travelled internationally and really learned how to be an engineer during my time there.  I was fortunate to spend about a year there as a facilitator in the continuous improvement group.  That role is part engineer, part motivator, part organizer and part teacher.  We would explain a lean manufacturing principle to co-workers then help them implement it into their department or work area during a Kaizen event.  Most of the time no one was interested in the task, usually because they did not understand that it would eventually benefit them.  I enjoyed the challenge of changing their minds, even if it took weeks of effort because there is such joy in seeing them eventually “get it” and embrace the process improvements we had implemented together.

There was a pattern emerging that everyone in my life, but me, was noticing.  I was a competent engineer, being promoted regularly.  I was pleased with my career but not fulfilled by it.  Friends and colleagues whom I had mentored (or tutored in calculus during lunch) started mentioning that I should be a teacher.  “But I’m an engineer,” I thought.  While I understood that I could change careers and be a high school math teacher, I would have to leave the world of engineering, the topic I loved and had studied, behind, which did not interest me.  So, I ignored their advice for a few more years.

A bizarre and wonderful chain of events led to a lunch with a friend and faculty member in my home department at VT.  During that lunch, I admitted that I felt I had reached a plateau in my engineering career; that strange place where you realize you do not want another promotion because of the added stress and drama it would create, but you also do not want to stay in the same job for twenty more years.  My faculty friend admitted he needed help teaching his class, that he was overwhelmed.  I, half-jokingly, said, “Hire me to help.”  It had never occurred to me that I could teach engineering.  He was very interested in pursuing the possibility that this could work.  Three months later, about fifteen minutes before I learned my company was going to close our facility and lay off all of its employees (including me), I received an email with a job posting at VT for a professor of practice in my home department of mechanical engineering.  I applied for and was hired to start two months later.

Although the pay was significantly less than my former job, I hoped the flexibility and satisfaction I would find in teaching would be worth it.  The first year we had 363 students.  There is no formal training for teaching at the college level so you learn quickly or give up.  Not accustomed to giving up, I jumped in the deep end asking questions, seeking advice, reading books on teaching, and listening to pod casts.  Eventually I learned many things about teaching, thanks to co-workers, and former teachers (not my high school math teachers).  By the second fall semester, I had the mechanics of delivering lectures and assessing students via homework, quizzes, and reports down pat.  Yet I was not feeling the joy my earlier exposures to teaching gave me.  I had become competent at and comfortable with delivering content, which some people call teaching.  This is what my former math teachers did and I wanted to be better than them.

A series of unfortunate events during spring semester of my second year teaching changed everything.  Within about a week I had one student come to me with severe depression, another had just lost his brother to suicide, a third had a parent terminally ill with cancer.  I was overwhelmed with what these students were dealing with in their personal lives and how it was affecting their academics.  That week I said aloud, “What I really need in this job is a PhD in counseling!” In conversations with the academic counselors in my department, amazing women and colleagues, it dawned on me our students needed more than people who could deliver technical content and grade them on their abilities to prove their comprehension.  They needed adults who cared about them both inside and outside of the academic arena.  Sometimes they needed advice; other times just someone to listen.  It was then I turned to the VT Center for Excellence and Teaching (formerly CIDER) to learn more about how to work with better with students.  I eventually found and enrolled in the VT Graduate Certificate Program in Engineering Education where I have learned volumes about truly teaching and not just communicating content.  I will complete my certification in December of this year.

Instead of finding joy in watching others “get it”, I joyously experienced my own ah-ha moment realizing that being a teacher is much harder than I thought.  Now I understood that done well, teaching is a holistic effort of delivering content, compassion, and encouragement.  What I loved about my earlier exposure to teaching was not just explaining skiing or fractions, it was the personal connection formed with students, when I was helping them learn new information by showing them their own potential for success.  This is what it means to be a teacher and an advisor and it is what I strive to do in my job every day.  Moreover, it is exactly what my high school math teachers did not understand.

What is the purpose(s) of education?

Throughout our readings this week, and the prompting of Seth Godin’s TEDxYouth talk, I keep coming back to the question of what purpose should school fill?

It’s an easy enough question, right? Personally, I am not so sure. I feel like the overall objectives of education, for me, are fairly easy to identify: explore and exchange knowledge, stimulate higher levels of thought and consideration, foster connections between learners and their passions. However, how these objectives are realized and what they mean to the individual learner might muddy the waters, so to speak.

Everyone that will read this blog, at some level, is deeply interested in education. Many of us have spent the majority of our lives in the classroom (either learning, teaching, and in some cases daydreaming) and are pursing degrees to stay in the classroom -or the laboratory- with the goal of devoting our lives to the understanding, expansion, and sharing of knowledge. For us, education is our livelihood, our passion, and the lens with which we view the world around us. Obviously, our view of education is influenced by the high value we place in it.

I see education largely as a way of bettering myself and the community around me. Education leads to knowledge, and knowledge (through teaching) leads back to education. The implementation of knowledge with innovation enacts (hopefully positive) change.  The process and purpose is cyclical, fluid, ever changing and rooted in the intersection of learning, thinking, and sharing.

Then again, my purpose for education might be different than yours, and it might be different then someone not pursing a PhD or looking to devote their live to the pursuit of knowledge. For me, I think this is okay, and that the purpose of education (much like many of the concepts we applied in this course) can/should be shaped by the individual, and take on a person-centric purpose.

Maybe I wrong.

I admit I do not have anywhere close to all the answers, but I think the implication Seth Godin’s talk (which I did largely enjoy!) had, that there is a singular correct purpose, is somewhat disingenuous. From some, education can be based more in thinking, for others maybe it is more about learning (a skill, or a trade, or a technique that allows them to pursue a passion), or some combination of both. At early levels maybe it is about developing social skills, and the ability to communicate, interact with, and function in a civilized society. Should school’s purpose be stealing dreams and replacing them with interchangeable archetypes – as see by the industrial worker example? Certainly not, but maybe the impact school has in preparing young people to function in society, and exposing them to various perspectives of thought is just as important now as it has ever been.  My point is, education and school can take on a number of different purposes throughout our lives and there isn’t a singular, objectively correct approach to education and continuing to accept the assumption that there is will only lead to frustration – on the part of the educator, learner, and administrator.

There are certainly better ways to educate (especially on an individual level), and maybe even more noble purposes of education, but if we accept that education can be defined in a number of different ways we have to be willing to accept that other definitions may not perfectly align with our own. I think the goal of teaching should always be centered in creating an environmental that allows individuals to get out of education what they want, especially when the participants are old enough to identify what that is.

Shifting gears a bit…..  If the current model of school/education was designed around the need for interchanged industrial work, as Godin asserts, what does an education system look like designed around a society/economy built on automation and the replacement of ‘unskilled’ labor? How do you teach people to be smarter or more innovative?  When teaching people to be innovative is a notoriously difficult task?

The Well Rounded Engineer

I will say having being through the collegiate meat grinder I was always a little upset that I had to pay all this extra money for classes I though weren’t important for my major (film video studies, world dance, English classes, etc.). I did not have an appreciation for these classes at the time. I think Dan Edelstein’s piece really sums up the difference between humanities and the “hard” sciences. Engineers are taught a baseline knowledge initially where there is typically one answer or a minimum answer at least, while the humanities use more original thinking and have a bunch of creative answers. The originality is what gets you a good grade as opposed to engineering, where deviating from the norm is shunned. I think even though I didn’t appreciate it at the time taking humanities courses engaged the other side of my brain and made me a better critical thinker. Young engineers I will tell you a secret, once you get to design there is no one correct answer there are a ton. I am grateful for this different way of thinking and being able to come up with an array of answers to the problem at hand. As a final note now as I am approaching the end of my “formal education” I want to take more courses outside my major, like drawing and foreign language courses. I am glad we have the system setup the way it is and I will be a big proponent of taking as many courses outside your major as possible. I really do believe it makes you a well-rounded student.

I think the following from Dan Edelstein really sums up his piece nicely: “it is not that humanities disciplines are more innovative than their scientific counterparts: it is simply that students are required to practice innovative thinking earlier on in their studies. Though there is a great difference in outcome between, say, a close reading of Balzac’s Père Goriot and the development of a new software operating system, both rely on similar cognitive processes.”

Additional Post: Prosperity

I would like to share a few thoughts about a book that I reading right now that is relevant to this class by “Disrupting Class” by Clayton M. Christensen. If you haven’t had the chance to read it, I strongly recommend it. The book is well-researched and very insightful on the state of higher education today and a few possible directions it might take in the near future.

On page 9 of the introduction the book quotes John Adams. It says:

“I must study politics and war that my sons may have the liberty to study mathematics and philosophy. My sons ought to study mathematics and philosophy, geography, natural history, naval architecture, navigation, commerce, and agriculture in order to give their children a right to study painting, poetry, music, architecture, statuary, tapestry and porcelain.”

This last group, the group that has the freedom to pursue whatever they find interesting, seems to be a pretty good description of the Millennial Generation, my generation. We live in a prosperous time and should do all that we can to distribute prosperity. We were raised by the Baby Boomers, who were raised by the WWII generation. The WWII generation (if we are speaking in terms of the collective in this period, not individuals) were forced to war and had fewer options at education and career choice. Many of them worked in trade jobs their entire lives because they had little chance to further their education that was disrupted by the political conditions of the time. My great grandfather was one of them. After he came back from WWII he was a painter. Because he was a painter his whole life he made sure that his four sons had the chance to go to college to study engineering, math, science, business, etc. His son, my grandfather, the first of his family to go college studied physics. A little later my father went to college to study engineering. Both physics and engineering are intensely difficult subjects to study. I took one course in statics and one course in introductory physics….and no more. My grandfather and father studied these subjects because these fields provide lucrative employment opportunities, and not necessarily because they are in love with the second law of thermodynamics. Because of their hard work and sacrifice I was recipient of opportunities that my progenitors never had. For possibly the first time in my family history, I had the chance to study WHATEVER I wanted. What a privilege that was! Also, what a responsibility.

I now have two daughters and I will encourage them to study what they are interested in and what they can become gainfully employed in. I want to them to be able to support themselves, to pursue prosperity, however they define it, and to pass it on to their children, and their neighbors, in even greater abundance than they received it.

Pass me my shield please.

“We can rebuild the entire system around passion instead of fear.” ~ Seth Godin

Because if we want a better education system that doesn’t dictate from atop an ivory tower, we must build it ourselves, we must be ready for battle, we must be revolutionary.

The research is there, we’ve seen that carrots and sticks don’t work. So why do we keep relying on rote memorization and obedience as markers of learning? How do we speak truth to power? Or perhaps more importantly, how can we encourage students to speak truth to power, when as educators, we are often seen as the power in the room?

Palmer recommends we strive to seek an “academic culture that invites student to find their voices about the program itself”, which in turn creates opportunities for support from faculty and staff. However, I don’t quite buy in to the call-and-response way of building culture. I strive to understand and recognize ways we are interconnected.  We must work together to create the kind of world we know is possible. We can stand up and with one another even in battles that are not our own; laying a foundation for brave spaces. Demonstrate warriorship and the courage required to speak out against the status quo, to have unpopular views, and to break silence in pursuit of positive cultural transformation. Be willing to engage in uncomfortable conversations and make mistakes with one another, rather than avoid difficult topics.

We need to entrust our students with these messy problems and encourage them to speak about the ways and means learning is a choice and a pursuit to gain greater participation and be a better human in our society.

“Our task is to learn how to build smart rooms—that is, how to build networks that make us smarter” ~ David Weinberger

For myself, smart rooms and networks must remain rooted in empathy and compassion for others. My hope is to plant seeds of leadership and grit in to the classroom so that students will feel empowered through knowledge and training.

Connecting the Dots Through “Critical” Pedagogy

There is a need for a paradigm shift towards “critical” pedagogy in which we, as educators, have a really big responsibility to improve and transform ourselves in fostering criticality in the classroom not only to let students think beyond but also to encourage them to find their voices by education.

I found Seth Godin’s TED-talk titled “Stop stealing dreams” highly crucial for anyone, who has been/will be teaching, in terms of his critique of the current education system by historicizing it since the beginning. He starts endlessly questioning “what school was/is for” in his talk.

Image result for seth godin what is school for

He argues that the sole intent of universal public education was not to train the scholars of tomorrow but to train people to behave, to comply, to fit in. Godin very nicely explains this logic by historicizing the actual aim of the capitalist system which was to train “human bodies” to be productive, mechanic yet obedient and docile (workers) for the sake of the effective functioning of capitalism. He further talks about the ways in which “school” seeks to normalize people with the particular textbook, force them to take standardized tests which eventually brings about ranking system.

Specifically, I really like how he makes an analogy between school and factory and ties it to the complaint of educators when students ask: “will this be on the test?” He says, “when we put kids in the factory, that we call the school, the thing we built to indoctrinate them into compliance. Why are we surprised that the question is ‘will this be on the test?’

This is a very important insight that we think about if we, as educators, really want to transform ourselves towards “critical pedagogy.” As our guest lecturer, Dr. Hometo Murzi, mentioned last week when we were talking about the assessment of PBL, firstly we can think about “measuring experience instead of test scores” if we believe that “our students are more than their scores” as Dr. Michael Wesch says in his TED-talk.  Again, similar to our class on PBL, Seth Godin also talks about the need to “transform the teacher’s role into a coach.” And, I believe, the most interesting part of his speech is his question, which implicitly covers what we have discussed our class throughout the semester: “are we asking our kids to collect dots or connect dots?” In this regard, he argues,

We’re really good at measuring how many dots they collect, how many boxes they have filled in, but we teach nothing about how to connect those dots…you can only teach it by putting kids into a situation where they can fail. Grades are an illusion. Passion and insight are reality. Your work is more important than your congruence to an answer key.

At this point, I believe, Godin can be put into conversation with J. Palmer. Palmer, in his article “A New Professional: The Aims of Education Revisited,” similarly discusses the current education system and how it shapes students’ personalities as “being” future professionals. Palmer overall suggests that,

The education of the new professional will offer students real-time chances to translate feelings into knowledge and action by questioning and helping to develop the program they are in. I am not imagining a student uprising but rather an academic culture that invites students to find their voices about the program itself, gives them forums for speaking up, rewards rather than penalizes them for doing so, and encourages faculty and administrative responsiveness to student concerns (p. 12).

Similar to Godin’s points, he also suggests five proposals to educate the new professional, which are:

1) “We must help our students uncover, examine, and debunk the myth that institutions are external to and constrain us as if they possessed powers that render us helpless — an assumption that is largely unconscious and wholly untrue”

(2) “We must take our students’ emotions as seriously as we take their intellects”

(3) “We must start taking seriously the ‘intelligence’ in emotional intelligence”

(4) “We must offer our students the knowledge, skills, and sensibilities required to cultivate communities of discernment and support”

(5) “We must help our students understand what it means to live and work with the question of an undivided life always before them” (pp. 9-11).

Specifically, I found the fifth proposal very interesting, sincere, and supporting on the part of educators. He affirms that mentors must be exemplars of an undivided life, that is to say, mentors must also show how to tackle with this question: “How do I stay close to the passions and commitments that took me into this work – challenging myself, my colleagues, and my institution to keep faith with this profession’s deepest values?” (p. 11) I believe this is equally as important as teaching criticality to create a “circle of trust” between students and instructor.

Reference:

Palmer, P. J. (2007). A new professional: The aims of education revisited. Change: The Magazine of Higher Learning39(6), 6-13.

 

 

Did Engineers Even Have Empathy in the First Place?

Reading Dr. Henry’s article this week about medical students losing their empathy struck a chord with me. I vividly remember the night last semester during the small group I lead with my church when one of the medical students spoke up with a prayer request. He was on his ob-gyn rotation and had just that day had to tell a family that their baby no longer had a heartbeat. As he broke down, he told us that he didn’t want to lose this empathy – the sense of why he was doing what he was doing and the purpose behind it.

When I think about engineering, I try to think about it in the same way. Engineering is a profoundly human profession, even though our engineering curricula may not reflect it. Everything we do — the time spent our research work, the projects we bid for, the designs we produce — has a purpose. However, often when you ask students why they want to be engineers, you hear “because I’m good at science and math” or “because I want to make a lot of money”. This effect is compounded during undergraduate education, where courses that incorporate the humanities like engineering ethics often aren’t required classes for students. I know when I was doing my BS, the closest we got to a discussion of ethics was talking about professional engineering licensure and the danger of putting your Professional Engineer (PE) stamp on a drawing that you hadn’t checked (not even because someone might die but because you might lose your license)! I’m having a hard time remembering and discussion of how the application of design principles might affect communities or how to make a hard cost-benefit decision when one comes up.

Palmer’s essay was especially meaningful to me, especially having taken Engineering Ethics and the Public last semester (Fall 2018). As I think about that class and compare it to Palmer’s essay I can’t help but think about the example of the resident that couldn’t listen to all of her patients and caused one of them to die. I was reminded of our discussions in Engineering Ethics of the importance of engineers valuing non-scientific experiences (like that of citizens in Flint, Michigan who knew something was wrong with their water but didn’t know how to prove it) and remembering the people for whom you are working instead of a nameless and faceless entity. This class also really encouraged a deep reflection of recognizing our responsibility for our work and grappling with the idea that “knowing is not enough”. In our class, we had to write a “story of self” where we examined our own lives and values and the point at which we are willing to confront inhumanities instead of staying silent.

I believe that as we prepare the engineers of the future, we as educators must, as Palmer said, “insist that knowing is not enough, that we are not fully human until we recognize what we know and take responsibility for it.” We need to confront students with ethical dilemmas and encourage them to think now about how they will react, instead of throwing students into dilemmas without preparation and hoping they don’t feel “overwhelmed” enough to do the right thing. Engineers need a sense of empathy – to remember that we are serving in a helping profession. We need to learn how to listen and how to respond, not just how to design the most effective piece of technology. To accomplish this, we need some humility — we need to value the input of those in other fields who are practicing this better than we are. It’s only through empathy, listening, and humility that we’ll be able to train engineers for the new profession, not just the old one.

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