Why do we stop learning?

We can only grow when we let go of what's holding us back

Just because someone is an educator doesn’t mean they are a learner.

Merriam-Webster’s definition of “profession” is “a calling requiring specialized knowledge and often long and intensive academic preparation.” Because our work is always evolving in light of new research and new circumstances, it is important we embody the spirit of our profession.

What happens? Why do teachers’ and leaders’ development stall? Some have suggested that educators simply get tired of all the initiatives, or they become complacent with the status quo. But these reasons have never sat well with me. Learning should be an invigorating process that can renew and inspire as long as we have the resources, support, and time.

Instead, what if the reason is not that some educators are unable to engage in new learning, but they haven’t let go of past practices?

We must let go of the life we’ve planned, so as to accept the one that is waiting for us.

- Joseph Campbell

In my yard, we cut back an overgrown shrub. The side growth was fine, but many of the inner branches were no longer producing leaves or flowers. It needed to go. As we trimmed it down to ground level, we noticed how bunched up all the branches were at its base, with no space to grow in between.

Also, the crown of the shrub in the ground was hard as a rock, like it had calcified, no longer permeable but impervious. As hard as we tried, we couldn’t dig it out.

This example is what comes to my mind when I think about professionals who are resistant to change. They have accumulated ideas and held onto everything that seemed effective, until there was little space left to consider future possibilities. It is, of course, not a physical hardening but a mental one.

To be fair, so much gets thrown at us every year in terms of responsibilities and new ideas. It can be overwhelming to always be evaluating what will work for our kids, what needs more study, and what is irrelevant. And often that choice is made for faculty by administration who fail to respect the input of professionals.

More than new ideas, we need new metaphors for dealing with the constant feeling of change in our profession. Instead of “burned out”, what if we felt “in need of renewal”? Model our professional learning processes after the cycles of nature instead of treating past ideas like refuse to be discarded in the landfill. What was the best of an approach, and what parts can be shed to make room for possibilities?

Framing the concept of “professional” as an evolving organism, flexible and adaptive to new surroundings, sounds nice. Not perfect; this work is too complex that we can avoid all obstacles. But certainly a more responsive experience, both professionally and personally, that honors the past while making space for the future.