Rhoda Bernard, Ed.D.

I have been on a baking kick for a while now, and it has been a really wonderful addition to my life. I try to bake something from scratch at least once a week. I have tried several new recipes, including a whole lot of vegan recipes so that my lactose intolerance is not an issue. I have also gathered numerous recipes from friends and have been able to try some of them, as well.

I gain great satisfaction from baking. Metaphorically speaking, the process of baking is yet another teacher for me of a lesson that I seem to need to keep relearning: often letting go yields far greater benefits than trying hard. Baking combines trying hard (getting the recipe right, assembling the ingredients and equipment, following the instructions) with letting go (putting it into the oven and letting the oven “do its thing”).

The other day, I made my friend Christine Koh’s granola recipe, and it was delicious. David, my fabulous husband, asked me what was it about making granola that was better than buying it in the store. The answer to that question has so many layers to it that I had a difficult time expressing myself adequately. I think I said something like, “Well, I can make the granola with exactly the ingredients that I want. It’s healthier because there are no preservatives. And it’s greener because there is no packaging.”

But that’s just the tip of the making-it-from-scratch-satisfaction iceberg. In a world where it’s too easy to purchase things, to have other people make things and do things for us, we lose sight of the rewards of creating something ourselves for our own use. Each time I grab a bowl of this luscious granola, I am reminded that I made it. I put the time, effort, care, and attention into creating something delicious for myself and my husband. I used my own hands, my own materials, and my own abilities to bring this granola into our lives.

OK, granola itself may not be so profound. But the process of making something for ourselves that we use and enjoy is. I know my limitations – I am not going to start making furniture or clothes anytime soon – but I also know that I derive satisfaction, joy, and delight from making and sharing certain things (edible ones at this point) for myself and others.

One of my students noted last week that she learns best when things are laid out for her very clearly, in a structured way. She admits that her learning style affects the way that she teaches. She teaches in the way that she needs to learn.

This is all well and good, and probably an unconscious tendency of most teachers. But this student of mine recognizes, thoughtfully, that her teaching style may not work for all of her students. Not everyone likes structure as much as she does. How can she develop an understanding of what kinds of approaches her students most need? How can she nurture the flexibility in her teaching so that she can give her students what they need from her in terms of her teaching style, rather than what she needs from a teacher? These are very important questions to ask, and graduate school is the perfect time to explore such questions (better put, to begin to explore them, since these questions don’t have easy answers and probably remain open for decades, if not one’s entire career.

As I think about my student’s questions, I am reminded of one of the “golden rules of relationships” that I developed when I was in college (at the time, I was stuck in a very unsatisfying relationship with a boyfriend from high school). The golden rule was: We Give What We Need. In other words, when we are in a relationship, we treat our partner in the ways that we wish to be treated. We show affection in the ways that we want affection shown to us. We care deeply in the ways that we want to be cared for. We listen in the ways that we want to be listened to. And so on. One of the big challenges of lasting love is to learn how to put aside our own needs when we are giving to our partners, and instead give what our partner needs. That is loving in its most true, authentic sense.

And giving our students what they need is teaching in its most true, authentic sense.