Showing posts with label Teaching. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Teaching. Show all posts

Thursday 5 September 2024

Care in teaching: the need for quality control

 An Avot Mishnah for Shabbat (Parashat Shofetim)

This week’s pre-Shabbat post returns to Perek 1.

At Avot 1:11 Avtalyon gives us the first of only three teachings in Avot that are couched in the form of a narrative:

חֲכָמִים, הִזָּהֲרוּ בְדִבְרֵיכֶם, שֶׁמָּא תָחֽוֹבוּ חוֹבַת גָּלוּת וְתִגְלוּ לִמְקוֹם מַֽיִם הָרָעִים, וְיִשְׁתּוּ הַתַּלְמִידִים הַבָּאִים אַחֲרֵיכֶם וְיָמֽוּתוּ, וְנִמְצָא שֵׁם שָׁמַֽיִם מִתְחַלֵּל

Scholars, be careful with your words. For perhaps you will be exiled to a place of bad water. The students who follow you might drink the bad water and die, and the Name of Heaven will be desecrated.

Once it is appreciated that ‘water’ is a metaphor for Torah and that ‘bad water’ is bad Torah teaching, the meaning of this parable is plain: if you, the chacham, are careless in the way you impart Torah to your students, they may misconstrue or misunderstand God’s message. They will then damage the Torah further when in turn they teach it erroneously to students of their own. Having done so, they are liable to be punished—and this will be a chillul Hashem, a desecration of God’s name.

R' Ovadyah Hedayah (Seh LaBet Avot) points out the irony that is buried within this tale. Here we have talmidim of a rabbi who follow him and, who despite their learning from him in good faith, are guilty of a chillul Hashem. If one of those talmidim should through his inadvertence or negligence unwittingly bring about the death of another person, in Torah times he would have had been exiled to one of the orei miklat (“cities of refuge”) and—because his Torah education was understood to be a priority—his rabbi had to go into exile with him.

Our tradition of Pirkei Avot learning is never so narrow as to admit only one meaning per mishnah, and sometimes we find explanations that are quite surprising. According to the Chida (Chasdei Avot) the chillul Hashem is not the fault of the chacham but of his talmidim: it is they who cause death and destruction through their impaired capacity to absorb Torah. The moral of the mishnah would thus be that the chacham should be ultra-cautious in choosing his words and, it seems to me, in conducting regular quality control tests by examining his talmidim regularly to seek out signs of error or deviation from true Torah teaching. This process should ideally start at the moment that talmidim are selected, to weed out those who lack the ability to understand what is being taught and the maturity to handle it (per R’ Eliezer Papo, Ya’alzu Chasidim).

Like the words of the written Torah, the guidance of tractate Avot is intended to speak to us at all times and in every generation. We can thus take away from Avtalyon’s teaching a message that applies to parents, medical practitioners, accountants, lawyers and indeed anyone whose words will be given the weight of authority and which may cause havoc if distorted or taken out of context.

If you enjoyed this post or found it useful, please feel welcome to share it with others. Thank you.

For comments and discussion of this post on Facebook, click here.

Sunday 28 August 2022

Teachers and students

With a new academic year shortly to commence in many countries, this is a good time to turn our thoughts to education. Of the 128 teachings in Pirkei Avot, a staggering proportion deal with this topic, a total of 58—that’s around 45 mishnayot and baraitot—give advice on teaching, studying or on the relationship between teacher and taught.

At its highest level, teaching can generate great personal tensions. This is not a solely Jewish phenomenon; it can be seen in kolel, in yeshivah and at university. This is because teachers who do their jobs well enough will often find that they have equipped their students to discuss their topic of study as equals; they may have empowered their students to take them on in argument, sometimes getting the better of them.

Pirkei Avot recognises (at 6:6) that teachers can learn from their students and also that a teacher is obliged to concede the truth when he knows he is wrong (5:9).  One should hold one’s students in as high a level of respect as one expects to receive oneself (4:15). There is no escape from the vital act of enriching another’s understanding: everyone, including a teacher, is supposed to have a teacher—and someone who can teach but doesn’t is regarded as being below contempt (1:13).

Having been a teacher and a student (often at the same time), I have often pondered on the complexities of the teacher-student relationship. Here’s a case in point.

Back in the 1980s I was teaching part of a postgraduate diploma course on intellectual property law. In the course of doing so, I often set written work. On one occasion I set an essay on patent law. One student, a lawyer from Pakistan, handed in a fairly mediocre effort, which I was obliged to read. The essay was quite week, apart from one perceptive and well-drafted paragraph in the middle which most impressed me. One reading it a second and then a third time, it gradually dawned on me that I had read it before. More than that, I had written it, this paragraph having been copied verbatim from my book, Introduction to Intellectual Property Law, that I had published a year or so before.

I called the student in to discuss the essay. I had no wish to hurt his feelings by labelling him a plagiarist or by challenging his honesty, but neither did I wish him to make a habit of doing such things since it was bound to get him into trouble eventually. Anyway, not wishing to embarrass him, I explained gently to him that in good legal circles it was considered wrong to pass the writings of another off as being one’s own, particularly without attributing that text to the author (see Avot 6:6). “I’m afraid you don’t understand”, I added, “but when I am marking an essay I want to know what you think so that I can see if you are right or wrong”.

The student looked a little surprised, then answered: “No, I’m afraid you don’t understand. I copied this paragraph to find out what you think, to see if you still agree with what you said when you wrote your book”.

How does this little scenario pan out in terms of Pirkei Avot? Suggestions, anyone?