My goal each year is to transform my classroom into an intellectual sanctuary, a place where students engage in a serious study of words and language that allows them to genuinely enjoy and take pleasure in the beauty and richness of literature. I strive to create a space where students can, in the words of Emily Dickinson, “dwell in possibility,” a room that is filled with questions, not answers, and a deep respect for the process of learning and not the product. My ideal classroom is also filled with humor and irony but never sarcasm or shame.

My education at St. John’s College, a program based on the Socratic model, has taught me the art of dialogue, of listening intently, and of seeing other students as fellow collaborators in a joint search towards understanding, all skills I strive to instill within my students every day. I am the “guide on the side,” handing students tools, making tweaks and suggestions, letting them try, fail, and try again, always improving and growing, asking hard questions, and never settling for easy answers.

We also spend substantial time exploring the event of reading and the event of writing, thoroughly examining the art of annotation or “reading with a pen” and the demanding but exhilarating art of written expression that can only be understood as a process with many stages and steps. I teach my students to argue boldly, to cite concrete examples, and to assert their own original voices, with keen attention to mechanics and style. I also believe in providing opportunities to write creatively, in the form of journals, screenplays, digital essays and poems, and to allow students to write in a variety of contexts for a variety of audiences.

But teaching literature isn’t just about the exploration of ideas; it’s an unparalleled tool for teaching character. The power of the story, of myth, of metaphor to show us the what it means to be a hero, to be flawed, to be great, to be human, is what began my love affair with literature. Great literature reveals humanity’s endless complexity but also its brightest potential, showing not only who we are but what we can be. Further, reading literature is the ultimate exercise in empathy; to step into the shoes of a character, another human being, with a completely different set of circumstances inherently evokes compassion, understanding, and a feeling of connectedness. I believe it can transform even the most rigid of views.

The scope of my vocation, however, does not stop at the classroom but extends into the hallways, onto the athletic fields, into the performing arts center, and even beyond the walls of the school. I believe that to be fully

human one must be in community, and a school is the perfect place place to live out this ideal for both students and faculty. I am living in community when I teach a player how to execute a corner kick on the JV girls’ soccer team. I am living in community when I have my advisees over to my home for a spaghetti dinner. I am living in community when I attend a funeral of a father of one of my tenth grade students. I am living in community when I take a group of students to volunteer at the Baltimore Station, a residential program for veterans dealing with drug and alcohol abuse. These are the moments that propel my feet to the floor every morning; this is why I teach.

In short, I believe a great education is not just about learning facts and dates, it’s about learning how to think and to question, learning how to rise to one’s highest and brightest potential, and learning how to be a part of something bigger and greater than oneself.

Lucy DawsonUpper School EnglishMcDonogh School