That's a really good question. Yulia and I had a heated discussion about it after one of Sapolsky's lectures. I sometimes agree with him because I see in education that many people follow their own paths and education itself doesn't seem to change them much. I think education's role as you said is to ask questions that might spark deep thinking and new ideas (that would lead to the true path of a particular person).
I don't understand why you think being part of there is no room for teaching. You seem to be a great part of the system, inspiring others and creating fun. Maybe you even change some people's paths, helping them get back to their true ones. The important thing is that everyone is enjoying themselves and feeling like they're doing something meaningful. Your teaching style, asking tough questions, helps people feel fulfilled and purposeful, even if that's not entirely true in the grand scheme of things. But who cares? It's great that we all find meaning—you in teaching, and us in learning.
After Stanford, I didn't become Elon Musk nor my live trajectory changed drastically, probably because I didn't take your courses, Robert. It's a bummer, but at least I had a fun time and I feel internally it was worth it . Maybe the real purpose of teaching isn't just teaching—maybe it's about connecting with others and giving them a sense of purpose. Hence from the system reproduction function teaching might be super important.
Finally, I don't understand why living things want to live instead of just being still or dead. It's easier to be a stone than a plant struggling for survival. What's the reason? We don't know, but maybe we don't need to know. It's just the way we're programmed, and maybe we shouldn't question it too much.
Thank you for sparking these thoughts even if I completely missed your point ;) and if you don't get mine (I am not sure I fully understand what I wrote above). In any case, thank you for being around. And please don't stop writing
You may not have taken any of my classes, but by responding here you did allow me to open up your brain and rummage around inside (I think that was how you described how I teach at one of our dinners?). :-)
The hardest part about being a teacher — I’d imagine — is that you will never be there to see the fruits of your harvest. You will not be there when I’m weighing a difficult fork in the road. You will not be there when I’m tossing and turning in bed late at night trying to figure out how to deal with a tricky situation, one that inevitably boils down to people and values. You will not be there when I wake up the next morning, aware of my circumstance and the friction I’m experiencing — not with the world, but in understanding my self, and my own values.
In those moments the voices of my great teachers (you included) ring loudly in my ears: what would Rob tell you? Or, more likely, what would Rob ask you? Without a word I can feel the answer, through nothing more than a recollection of an emotion, a mannerism. Perhaps an even better question; what face would Rob make if this situation were playing out on a classroom floor and he were sitting behind his teachers’ desk in the front?
All you can do is believe that your coaching matters and is making a difference in ways you will never be able to bear witness to. As you said once before - “that is enough.”
That's a really good question. Yulia and I had a heated discussion about it after one of Sapolsky's lectures. I sometimes agree with him because I see in education that many people follow their own paths and education itself doesn't seem to change them much. I think education's role as you said is to ask questions that might spark deep thinking and new ideas (that would lead to the true path of a particular person).
I don't understand why you think being part of there is no room for teaching. You seem to be a great part of the system, inspiring others and creating fun. Maybe you even change some people's paths, helping them get back to their true ones. The important thing is that everyone is enjoying themselves and feeling like they're doing something meaningful. Your teaching style, asking tough questions, helps people feel fulfilled and purposeful, even if that's not entirely true in the grand scheme of things. But who cares? It's great that we all find meaning—you in teaching, and us in learning.
After Stanford, I didn't become Elon Musk nor my live trajectory changed drastically, probably because I didn't take your courses, Robert. It's a bummer, but at least I had a fun time and I feel internally it was worth it . Maybe the real purpose of teaching isn't just teaching—maybe it's about connecting with others and giving them a sense of purpose. Hence from the system reproduction function teaching might be super important.
Finally, I don't understand why living things want to live instead of just being still or dead. It's easier to be a stone than a plant struggling for survival. What's the reason? We don't know, but maybe we don't need to know. It's just the way we're programmed, and maybe we shouldn't question it too much.
Thank you for sparking these thoughts even if I completely missed your point ;) and if you don't get mine (I am not sure I fully understand what I wrote above). In any case, thank you for being around. And please don't stop writing
You may not have taken any of my classes, but by responding here you did allow me to open up your brain and rummage around inside (I think that was how you described how I teach at one of our dinners?). :-)
Thanks for taking the time to read and comment.
The hardest part about being a teacher — I’d imagine — is that you will never be there to see the fruits of your harvest. You will not be there when I’m weighing a difficult fork in the road. You will not be there when I’m tossing and turning in bed late at night trying to figure out how to deal with a tricky situation, one that inevitably boils down to people and values. You will not be there when I wake up the next morning, aware of my circumstance and the friction I’m experiencing — not with the world, but in understanding my self, and my own values.
In those moments the voices of my great teachers (you included) ring loudly in my ears: what would Rob tell you? Or, more likely, what would Rob ask you? Without a word I can feel the answer, through nothing more than a recollection of an emotion, a mannerism. Perhaps an even better question; what face would Rob make if this situation were playing out on a classroom floor and he were sitting behind his teachers’ desk in the front?
All you can do is believe that your coaching matters and is making a difference in ways you will never be able to bear witness to. As you said once before - “that is enough.”
I miss you very much.