Why We Teach

As a teacher, one of the greatest things I can hope to give my students is not simply knowledge, but wisdom. Knowledge can help us succeed in school, in our careers, and in many practical aspects of life. But wisdom teaches us how to live, how to make good decisions, how to understand ourselves and others, and how to distinguish what truly matters from what does not.

Collaboration is at the heart of everything we do at Saint Stephen’s. As a fourth grade teacher, I work closely with my colleagues to exchange creative strategies and refine our practice. Through this constant teamwork and rich professional development, we bring out the best in each other—which directly benefits our students every day. Having taught here for over 15 years, these professional partnerships have grown into enduring friendships. Being part of such a connected faculty inspires me to show my students what true teamwork looks like in action.

In 6th Grade World Cultures, I want students to see history as more than names, dates, and places on a map. Through collaboration and project-based learning, I challenge them to dig into the hows and whys of history. Why did people make the choices they did? How did geography, culture, belief, trade, conflict, and innovation shape their world—and ours? My favorite moments are when students begin making those connections themselves and recognize the bigger themes that link civilizations across time and place. For me, that is where history comes alive: when curiosity leads to questions, questions lead to connections, and students begin seeing the world a little differently.

Henri Nouwen, the priest and ivy-league professor, wrote, “A meal together is one of the most intimate and sacred events… Around the table we become family, friends, community, yes, a body.” Each day in class, we sit at the Harkness table and feast on great literature and profound ideas.

We receive each other’s thoughts and insights as we offer others our own. We are nourished by the laughter, challenges, questions, and encouragement. And around that table, we become so much more than students or teachers. We become a family, a body of fellow learners.

Through my teaching, I guide my students to think like historians. Much like aspiring members of a medieval guild, my students are apprentices learning the craft of historical thinking. Their growth centers on drawing connections across time and geographic space. Storytelling forms one of the tools that I deploy, much as our ancestors fashioned stories since time immemorial. Document inquiry also provides a lens through which we can view the past. Engaging with evidence from the past, we can better understand ourselves by recognizing the perspectives of people both profoundly different and profoundly similar to who we are today.

My hope for my students, regardless of if they ever choose to study Chemistry in the future, is that they lead a life filled with wonder. As I move through my day, I am frequently fascinated by the diversity of nature around me and boggled that everything I see is made from the same simple elemental building blocks. To quote Carl Sagan:

“The Cosmos is within us. We are made of star-stuff. We are a way for the Universe to know itself.”

All people, all matter—animate and inanimate—for all of our differences, we are all the same.

As I start each day I remind myself that every child deserves to feel safe, seen, and valued. As a kindergarten teacher, I have learned that before children can truly learn, they need to know they are cared for. A gentle smile, a listening ear, a kind word, or simply knowing that someone believes in them can make all the difference.

I hope to create a classroom where children feel comfortable asking questions, making mistakes, trying again, and discovering who they are.

May we remember that learning begins with connection. When children feel safe, they can open their hearts, trust themselves, and let their curiosity lead the way.

As a school, we strive to provide academic rigor, but I want my students to know that grades are guidance, not judgment. Every outcome is an opportunity for reflection and growth. I encourage them to look at their work and ask, "What steps led to this?" If they succeed, they have a blueprint to repeat; if they struggle, they can look for a new approach. This process separates performance from identity. We challenge our students to achieve their best, but they must know their worth is not tied to a grade. We see and value them as human beings.

In high school, I had the good fortune to take a philosophy class, where I learned about Socrates’s obsession with the “Good Life.” I was instantly hooked, and because his obsession became my obsession, I’ve experienced a number of untold joys in my life. Those joys include being happily married for 41 years to my lovely wife, Marlene; being the proud father of two intellectually curious and kind-hearted sons; and being a teacher at Saint Stephen’s for the past 21 years, where I have dutifully repaid my debt to Socrates by carrying his concept of the Good Life into every class I have ever taught.