Paddling Upstream
This afternoon I followed
Nietzsche’s advice (as quoted in Warren Linds’
piece); “I decided to [paddle] away into foreign
parts, meet what was strange to me.” May you,
dear reader/viewer, like me, find, in this issue, space
growing
all around you, horizons opening. The work in Educational
Insights, like all our work in the Centre for Cross-Faculty Inquiry in Education,
presents a “space of possibility” (Johnna
Haskell). What a pleasure it has been to spend the
afternoon
in this particular issue titled: Opening the Space of
the Possible. Ardra Cole and Maura McIntyre want us
to
view research texts as sites of aesthetic contemplation,
and the essays, poetry, and visual art in this issue
of
Educational Insights, aided by the editorial insight and creative skill of guest editors
Johnna Haskell and Warren Linds, along with Lynn Fels
(Co-ordinating Editor), Madeline Sonik (Poet’s
Corner), Barbara Bickel (Art Seen) and the Editorial
& Production Team help us do just that.
I have found “rich,
generous, thoughtful, challenging, enchanting work”
(David Jardine and Jennifer Batycky). I have found work
that “celebrates questioning, imagining, evolving
continuously” and that moves me beyond where I have
been (Martha Zacharias). I have constantly returned to
that all-important question asked by poet Sohaila Javed:
“What is to be done in education that sustains life
and peaceful coexistence for all human beings?”
As I read in Linda Laidlaw’s piece of rearrangement,
and adaptation, of small changes, I am challenged to help
to “make classrooms [and the graduate student community,
here in the Centre for Cross-Faculty Inquiry at the University
of British Columbia] spirit-filled sanctuaries where the
worthiness of personhood thrives and is celebrated”
(Sharon Abbey). We have had special opportunities to do
so this Fall as we grieve the loss of two of our graduate
students and remember the unique worthiness of John Crawford
and Ken Schramm (who wanted so much to work on the issue).
Kendall
Bennie’s use of the surfing metaphor resonates as
I compare it to my partner Millie Cumming’s use
of canoeing metaphors that are more attuned to the adventure
river landscape of Brian Wattchow. Millie encourages us
to think of a rushing frothing wild river with a large
boulder emerging midstream. The current of the river splits
around that boulder on both sides, creating a relatively
calm area where the current runs in the direction opposite
to the main force of the river: that is an eddy. White-water
canoeists search for those eddies and tuck into those
eddies with relief. The eddy is safe; the current of the
eddy holds you in against the rock, out of the chaos of
the river, allowing you to catch your breath and scout
out the next part of your journey. If the river has been
particularly terrifying, you don’t ever want to
leave the eddy, you want to stay there, safe. What is
even worse, the exit out of the eddy is fraught with danger.
If you timidly attempt to leave the eddy sideways (trying
to test the waters as it were), the force of the river
tips your canoe immediately, and you are in for a difficult,
dangerous, very wet ride. To properly exit an eddy, you
need to courageously paddle rapidly upstream against the
main current, then, in a major act of faith, take one
important stroke to let the river flip you around and
allow you to forge on down the river. Each of us who teaches
has experienced the calm of the eddy and the need to exit
the eddy. With the authors and artists in this issue let
us not be afraid to paddle upstream.
Graeme
Chalmers
Director,
Centre for Cross–Faculty Inquiry
University
of British Columbia