Here’s a selfie I snapped today:
This might sound silly, but this photo illustrates something important about how I hope to be perceived: clever, playful, a little goofy. Notice my diploma on the wall behind me (“trust me, I’m a doctor”) and a bookshelf full of books. But also, a hint of a grin in what you can see of my face behind a mug I think is funny. I’d like to think that this selfie illustrates a playful/positive/professorial view of who I am and how I am. What I mean is, I hope that when you look at this picture, you perceive me in a certain way. I think that’s really what selfies are for, aren’t they?
Here’s another photo I took today, showing off a segment of my bookshelf:
For those of you who know me well, there probably aren’t big surprises in seeing this section of my bookshelf. I can almost hear some of you saying something like, “Books about technology and culture, STEM education, Christian education…that sounds like Dr. Dave to me..” And you’re not wrong: these are books I use for teaching some of my favorite courses.
But this picture also shows something else: there is a sort of hope that shows up in this stack of books. It’s a hope of how I’ll be perceived. I hope to be perceived as a person of faith, a person who is knowledgable about my sub-fields (educational technology and STEM education in particular), a person who takes his work seriously—even if I don’t always take myself too seriously.
Why bring this up?
I guess I’m thinking right now about the difference between being “perceived” and being “seen.” I recognize that I’m always projecting a sense of myself that I hope will influence how people view me and think about me. (I suspect that most of you do some version of this as well, yeah?) But I have a handful of friends who really see me, and not just the version I want people to perceive. They know what’s behind the version that I post on Instagram, and the version I hope my bookshelf indicates. And I’m grateful for the times they raise questions to help me check myself.
To be fair, I’m getting better at just being myself—that what you might perceive about me, and what you see are one and the same. But it’s a journey of becoming, and I am not yet at my destination. (And truly never will be on this side of glory!)
But I hope that my transparency here gives you a nudge to do a little introspection today. Maybe take a look at your bookshelf; what does it say about how you’re hoping to be perceived? Maybe take a look at your social media presence; what does it suggest about what you want people to perceive about you?
And…who really sees you?
Dave’s Faves
Here are three things I’m absolutely loving right now that I hope you might love too…
Dave’s Fave #1: NY Times “Connections”
Remember Wordle? True confessions: I still play it most days. I love a good daily puzzle—maybe because it’s limited, and I can’t just mindlessly keep playing away at it? I’ve had a few others I play almost daily as well, including Worldle and Globle, some daily geography quizzes.
But my new favorite? “Connections” from the New York Times. Each day’s puzzle is a grid of sixteen words, and your goal is to figure out the four categories that you can sort them into. Sounds simple enough, but it’s often surprising to me how easy it is to mis-categorize them, because many words have multiple connotations. It’s, fun and probably good for your brain too. Give it a whirl!
Dave’s Fave #2: The Greatest Night in Pop
I love a good documentary. I also love music from the 80s. These loves came together recently for me when I watched The Greatest Night in Pop, which tells the story of the making of 1985 pop smash “We Are the World.” (I’m sure you’ve heard the song, but just to refresh your memory, you can watch the video of the performance to experience the awesomeness.)
The documentary was a fascinating look behind the scenes, and a way to capture the story of the epic overnight recording session that brought together Michael Jackson, Lionel Ritchie, Stevie Wonder, Cyndi Lauper, Bruce Springsteen, Steve Perry, Diana Ross, Huey Lewis, Paul Simon, Bette Midler, Dionne Warwick, Billy Joel, Tina Turner, Willie Nelson, Ray Charles, Hall & Oates, Bob Dylan, Kenny Rogers, and about 30 others…the pantheon of popular music of the 1980s! You can find the film on Netflix, and if you are a music fan, you should definitely make time to watch this one.
Dave’s Fave #3: “Soap,” by the Oh Hellos
Spotify told me at the end of last year that The Oh Hellos were my most-listened to band of 2023 (no surprise there) and this is currently my favorite song from them. Maybe it’s the poetry of the lyrics (and some fun chemistry references embedded there if you have ears to hear), or maybe it’s the folk-rock sensibilities of the music, or maybe it’s the thematic element of trying to fix the broken pieces and clean the messes, but this song is an absolute earworm for me, and I hope you’ll enjoy it too.
The Last Word!
One of the most formative books for my work as an educator is Parker J. Palmer’s The Courage to Teach: Exploring the Inner Landscape of a Teacher’s Life (1998). I first read the book in the early 2000s when I was an M.Ed. student, and I’ve read the book at least six more times in the intervening years.
The book was immensely helpful for me in discerning my own sense of identity as a teacher—and continues to prompt my reflections on being perceived and being seen. To close out this week’s newsletter, an encouragement from Parker Palmer to consider how who you are makes all the difference for your work as an educator:
“Teaching, like any truly human activity, emerges from one’s inwardness, for better or worse. As I teach, I project the condition of my soul onto my students, my subject, and our way of being together. The entanglements I experience in the classroom are often no more or less than the convolutions of my inner life. Viewed from this angle, teaching holds a mirror to the soul. If I am willing to lok in that mirror and run from what I see, I have a chance to gain self-knowledge—and knowing myself is as crucial to good teaching as knowing my students and my subject” (The Courage to Teach, p. 2).
Teacher, know that you matter, that your work matters. Don’t forget who you are—and whose you are. Your identity is certainly much more than your work, but your work as a teacher definitely flows out of your identity. Grace and peace to you as you live out who you have been created to be!