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| Lori A. Goodson | lagoodson@cox.net |
Teaching, Learning, and Archetypes: Images of Instruction in CynthiaVoigt's Dicey's Song
One of the ways we learn about anything, whether it's playing piano or football,gourmet cooking or public speaking, is by studying andemulating the models of experts in the field we are trying to master. Thosemodels are often presented to us through stories and images. Teaching belongsin this collection of things to be learned, and one of the most availableresources for stories on teaching is the contemporary body and vast traditionof literature in which teachers and teaching are portrayed. Consequently, twoimportant questions to ask when examining how people learn to be teachers are:How are teachers portrayed in literature? and, What messages do aspiringteachers get from these portrayals?
Cynthia Voigt's Dicey's Song is widely taught by real-life teachers andwidely read by young adults, some of whom may actually go on to become teachersand all of whom are continually forming and revising their notions of"teacher." Dicey's Song also portrays three very different andwell-defined kinds of schoolteachers. Consequently, it is a good example ofinfluential teacher-image literature and a good place to begin investigatingthe questions I have posed above.
The critical tool I've selected for sorting through these images is a work byCarol Pearson entitled The Hero Within. Pearson revises and expandsJoseph Campbell's study of heroic archetypes, creating a model of stages andcycles for the hero's journey. In this essay, I have described some of the wayscharacters teach as a result of their ongoing places along the heroic journey.First, a brief summary of Pearson's model for that journey.
The Hero's Journey: Pearson's Model
In adapting Joseph Campbell's work on heroic archetypes to a theory ofpsychological growth, Carol Pearson has developed a way of considering personalpower that moves through a range of at least six archetypes, any one of which aperson may draw upon during the course of his or her growth into wholeness.Those six archetypes are as follows: the Innocent, the Orphan, the Wanderer,the Warrior, the Martyr, and the Magician. In recent work, Pearson has addedmore figures to her pantheon, but these six provide a big picture that is quitesuitable for examining the core differences among such very different teachersas Voigt presents. As one grows through Pearson's six archetypes, her life ischaracterized by an increasing awareness, first of self, and then of otherness,until in the final type, one embraces the puzzling contradictions of fate aseducational rather than fatal.
Pearson herself notes that one is always "going to school with each type" (p.13). But what sorts of lessons do the archetypes convey? What kinds of teachersare they? And, perhaps more to the point, what kinds of teachers do theyempower us to be?
The Innocent, to Pearson, isn't much of a teacher at all. This archetypefunctions only as a state of ignorance, powerlessness, at best a condition oftemporary naivete, good only as a place to move away from. Pearson evendescribes this first stage as a setup for the second: "The Innocent lives in aprefallen state of grace; the orphan confronts the reality of the Fall" (p. 4).I would argue that the Innocent's prefallenness may actually compel otherorphans to guide the Innocent out of his or her mist, or even to recognizesomething of value in the Innocent's vision, and that consequently the innocentmakes its own substantive contribution as an instructional stage. Think of whatfirst-time parents learn from a crying but inarticulate baby. But Pearsonemphasizes this earliest stage of the journey as one which contextualizes therecognition of discomfort experienced most fully in the next stage.
Then, once orphaned from the protection of pre-fall illusions, the individualmust begin developing "strategies for living in a fallen world. The Wandererbegins the task of finding oneself apart from others; the Warrior learns tofight to defend oneself and to change the world in one's own image; and theMartyr learns to give, to commit, and to sacrifice for others. The progression,then," Pearson argues, "is from suffering, to self-definition, to struggle, tolove" (p. 4).
The non-pedagogical characters in Dicey's Song, especially Dicey andGram, experience precisely this progression -- opening with defensiveisolationism and self-protection and ending with collaboration and inclusion.It remains to be seen which if any of Voigt's teachers reach these sameultimate goals. But one of Pearson's archetypes remains to be defined -- theMagician. Pearson's passages on the Magician are so richly detailed that I willbegin my own commentary on this archetype by quoting her extensively.
At the Magician's level . . . dualities begin to break down . . . . Magiciansbelieve that in fact we are safe even though we often experience pain andsuffering . . . . Beyond strength vs. weakness, they come to understand thatassertion and receptivity are yang and yin -- a life rhythm, not a dualism. (p.6)
The Magician learns that we are not life's victims; we are part of theunfolding of God. (p. 117)
After learning to change one's environment by great discipline, will, andstruggle, the Magician learns to move with the energy of the universe . . . .Magicians aim to be true to their inner wisdom and to be in balance with theenergies of the universe. (p. 5)
In short, for the Magician there is no enemy, no culprit, no obstacle; thereare instead lessons, challenges, realistic events that make up the complex,contradictory, oftentimes uncomfortable, yet safe flow of real experience. Thesafety comes from one's acknowledgement that the flow is natural instead ofthreatening, that, in fact, true safety comes from the one source that cannotbe threatened -- one's inner, comfortably honest sense of the world.
The Magician has learned to celebrate all experience, because of a wiseredefinition of experience as that which can hold valuable lessons, and thatwhich is by nature interestingly contradictory. I believe that the teacherportrayed most positively in Dicey's Song can be described as one ofPearson's Magicians. It seems, also, that the differences in method, attitude,and effectiveness across all three teachers are represented by Pearson's rangeof archetypes. Thus, the archetypes may provide a discriminating way to beginthinking about teaching practices, even as they tell an engaging story foryoung people.
The Teacher's Journey in Dicey's Song
Do the archetypal patterns of heroic growth really fit thecharacteristics and processes of pedagogical growth? An examination of threeclassroom teachers in this novel does suggest at least parallel, if notidentical, paths. Just as the most actualized characters in the ancient storiesof heroes seem empowered by traits of self-identity and openness to others, soalso do the most influential teachers seem both most certain of who they areand most realistic about their students' weaknesses, needs, and potential.
The fictional pedagogue in Dicey's Song who provides the greatestcontrast to heroic imagery is a home-economics teacher named Miss Eversleigh.The simplest way to name Miss Eversleigh's problem is that she is engaging inno journey at all. She "drones on" as a teacher (p. 90), and her verbal droningsignals a great rigidness and stasis in other aspects of her teaching,including her view of herself in the job. Unlike Sammy, Dicey's youngestbrother, whose mask of good behavior is uncomfortably confining and whosegrowth through the story is dramatic, Miss Eversleigh is comfortably masked,maintaining as a part of her working condition a denial of her true identity.
Notice Miss Eversleigh's complete denial of Dicey's own experience at homeeconomy. When Dicey describes the meal plan that had actually fed herself andher siblings in their flight from Massachusetts to Maryland, Miss Eversleighgives her plan an F, noting that "Nobody could live for long on meals likethis" (p. 111). But Dicey's own life proved otherwise. By contrast, when MissEversleigh defends her own work, she speaks in non-negotiable abstractions andideals. "The materials we cover in this course are skills . . . . I have alwaysbelieved that there is as great a disadvantage to not being able to performdomestic skills as to not being able to perform intellectual skills, orathletic, or social" (p. 112).
When she suspects that her students fail to adopt her level of commitment, shesimply concludes, " `If you do not understand [the value of this course] thenyour understanding is faulty.' That was the end," the narrator adds. "MissEversleigh just stood there until the bell rang, a long, uncomfortable fiveminutes. Nobody stirred. Nobody said anything" (p. 113). And why would they?Their teacher had left absolutely no room for any view but her own. Her workdepends on images of home economics and school culture as she wants them to be,not as it really presents itself to her.
And if her rigid denial of Dicey's experience, indeed her insistence on her ownexclusive view of home economics, is not enough to define her as one who hasstopped growing, her reappearance later in the story shows, in fact, that shedoes not want to connect with her students in any way that might challenge herown way or perspective. Even after Dicey takes the opportunity to open herselfmore vulnerably to Miss Eversleigh's real meaning, Miss Eversleigh insists onher own version of reality -- including a version of the naughty student sheimagines Dicey to be. Furthermore, Miss Eversleigh insists on her owndefinition of learning -- namely, blind acceptance and obedience. Thatinsistence costs Miss Eversleigh any remaining chance that she might have hadto win Dicey's respect and attention.
Dicey was washing the outside of the front windows, taking it slowly becausethe sun on her shoulders felt so good, when she felt somebody come stand besideher. Miss Eversleigh, in her same suit and pin, with her same teacher face.Dicey smiled at her. She couldn't help it: her mind was still on Gram beatingall the second graders at marbles.
"I didn't know you could smile," Miss Eversleigh remarked. Something about hertone of voice and her glance made Dicey remember.
"Miss Eversleigh." She dropped the squeegee into the bucket and dried her handson her jeans. "I wanted to ask you. You were talking to us, but I wasn'tlistening. Last week? But I think I'd like to know what you said."
"I was talking to you," Miss Eversleigh said. "Mostly to you. I was talkingabout you."
"But what did you say?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Because I have a strong feeling I should have paid attention." That was as faras Dicey was willing to go. Miss Eversleigh pursed her lips.
"I said that it was important to learn the things we are doing in the class."
Then Dicey found she could remember. "Because they take skill. That's what yousaid, isn't it? You said it takes as much skill as building something."
Miss Eversleigh nodded. She was looking at Dicey as if she couldn't understandwhat Dicey was up to.
"OK," Dicey said. "Thank you. I remember now. I never meant to be --disrespectful to you."
"And?" Miss Eversleigh insisted.
"And?" Dicey asked. She knew, though, what Miss Eversleigh wanted her to say.Instead she said, "I guess I think it's interesting to say that, and I'll thinkabout it."
"But you won't try harder and care more?" Miss Eversleigh inquired.
"How can I say that? I haven't even thought about it yet."
"You're a strange child," Miss Eversleigh said. She was holding a purse in hertwo hands, right in front of her stomach.
"I guess so," Dicey agreed. (pp. 159-160)
Dicey is, at least, willing to go part of the way with Miss Eversleigh.However, Miss Eversleigh is only willing to convert Dicey entirely, not to meether part-way in return. Instead of developing a way of including Dicey, MissEversleigh continues to deny even her own responsibility in her conflict withthe student, simply blaming the conflict on the child's being "strange."
A second classroom teacher, Dicey's English teacher, Mr. Chappelle, portrays aperson on the verge of an important, yet rather awkward, immature period ofgrowth. In Pearson's language, Mr. Chappelle moves from Orphan (thedisillusioned idealist whose student, he believes, has cheated) and Warrior(the teacher who confronts first and asks questions later) at least to a pointof wondering (Wandering?), recognizing that he has responded poorly to Dicey'swell-written paper, but not yet sure of a more appropriate response.
The tension that triggers Mr. Chappelle's journey is created by his apparentneed, initially, to serve two pedagogical masters -- his need to achievepersonal appeal with his class, as illustrated by his personal writingassignment; and his belief (created, perhaps, by his image of himself as agood, strict teacher) that any outstanding student work must be plagiarized.
When he is confronted with the exception to this rule, he shows, at least (andunlike his colleague in home economics), an openness to his newfound classroomreality -- to the person his student really is -- but he seems unprepared torespond effectively to this real moment. In an apparent panic, he changesDicey's grade from F to A+ without ever convincing her that he has really heardher story or truly evaluated her work. Ultimately in the story, a change hasoccurred for Mr. Chappelle, but not the kind of change that Dicey would like."The way he pussyfoots around me, it makes me sick," she complains (p. 165).However, Mr. Chappelle is taking action. And it is an informed action,it seems, by his sensed need for more-sensitive interactions with his students.That we never actually see him again in the novel after his confrontation withDicey suggests that, even as he "pussyfoots," he is out journeying, trying,slowly and painfully growing.
Ironically, it is a teacher whose main work in the story is done outside of theclassroom who is the truest match with archetypal magic and heroic achievement.As one might expect from a Magician -- from one whose strength lies largely inhis openness to all experience -- Mr. Lingerle, Maybeth's music teacher, firstappears in the novel, not as a deliberate, controlling teacher, but as musicitself. He is not a teacher struggling to teach, but rather a teacher truly andfully, simply, being himself (warts -- or in this case fatness, baldness, andsweat -- and all) and truly, simply being what he teaches.
. . . Dicey followed the music down the hall.
A man sat at the piano. He was so fat that his fanny hung down over the back ofthe bench. He was fat like a cartoon fat person. For a minute, Dicey sawnothing but fatness, then looked at the details. The back of his head had abald spot, a pink circle with a few stray hairs carefully combed over it, as ifhe were trying to hide it. Like trying to hide a basketball under threeshoelaces, Dicey thought. His eyes and nose and mouth were all buried in theflesh of his face, and his double chins hung down. His hands, despite lookingthick and clumsy at the ends of huge arms, danced over the piano keys. He wasconcentrating so hard -- adjusting his position on the bench as the chords tookhim up and down the keyboard, staring down at the keys under his fingers --that sweat ran down by his ear and his shirt was stained under the armpits. Hismouth was open as if he was panting. And the music poured out of the piano likea stream pouring down the side of a mountain, or like the wind pouring over thebending branches of trees.
Dicey stood, listening. (pp. 49-50)
A second observation of Mr. Lingerle is that he is, from the start, bothrealistic and enthusiastic about his student -- about her homelife, heracademic faults, and her gifts and potential.
"Listen to me for a minute," Mr. Lingerle pleaded. "I'm not saying Maybeth is agenius, or anything like it. But she is one of those people, one of those luckypeople, who will always have music in their lives. People who can always findpleasure in music, no matter what else -- hurts them, or goes wrong. I'd liketo give her as much music as I can, because -- because I want to. It's apleasure for me." (p. 52)
Finally, in addition to his honest acceptance of himself and his student -- aclear sense, as it were, of the pieces to the academic puzzle -- Mr. Lingerleshows his respect for a guiding, driving principle. Just as Pearson argues thatthe Magician feels that she is "part of the unfolding of God" (p. 117) anddriven by "the energy of the universe" (p. 5). Mr. Lingerle seems driven by abelief system that not only gives his teaching energy and direction but also,in the following passage, unites him with Gram, the living example of Maybeth'sreal history.
Gram was silent, then said, "We don't have the money."
"I wasn't asking for money," Mr. Lingerle cried, exasperated. "Did I mentionmoney?"
Dicey turned around to catch the end of Gram's quick smile. "If you can affordit," Gram said.
"I can't afford not to," Mr. Lingerle told her. "I guess you can't know -- howexhilarating to teach someone like Maybeth. So, we're agreed?"
"Entirely," Gram said. (p. 53)
If there were any doubts to this point about Mr. Lingerle's "magical"qualities, his joining ranks in entire agreement with the story'snon-pedagogical Magician, Gram, suggests strongly that here is a teachercharacter who, archetypally speaking, has arrived.
Conclusions
So, while we're teaching Dicey's Song, we may be sending andreceiving several powerful messages about teaching itself. Among thosemessages, here are a few that stand out in my own reading, thanks to some helpfrom Carol Pearson's archetypes for heroic growth. Growth into better teachingseems particularly likely to happen: 1) when discomfort leads to an honestsense of identity, 2) when clear identity becomes understood through one'sguiding principles, 3) when the discovery of principle leads to affiliation,and 4) when that affiliation puts one in contact with others as they reallyare, and not as one fears, imagines, or needs them to be.
The instructors portrayed in this novel illustrate at least three separatepositions along the hero's journey: one static, another just beginning, and yetanother under the full influence of those heroic traits of identity, principle,and affiliation. I would not argue that all good teachers must be as open orpersonally engaged as Mr. Lingerle, nor that no teacher as rigid as MissEversleigh can be effective. I can conclude, however, that the teachersmodelled in this novel do, indeed, illustrate some of the things that goodteachers do. One of those things is to care about and listen to their students;another is to acknowledge where their students (and themselves) really are sothat the teaching does happen has a clear source and a clear target.
Another message in these images is that no student has cornered the market onfailure or potential. If the Magician tells us anything at all as teachers, itis that each student may fail and that each student can succeed -- that failureand success can never, realistically, be mutually exclusive.
Finally, I believe that these images tell us, as teachers, that through ourwillingness to experience levels of honesty and vulnerability that we maysometimes find uncomfortable, we can continue to grow in our effectiveness aswell as our creativity. If we are honest with ourselves, then we can moreclosely monitor our own journeys and, consequently, be more constructivelyavailable to our students, regardless of where we are in the growth process.Bolstered by principle and energized by realistic notions of hope, teaching canindeed be heroic, and teachers' journeys can lead to magic.
References
Pearson, Carol. The Hero Within: Six Archetypes We Live By.Expanded Edition. HarperCollins, 1989.
Voigt, Cynthia. Dicey's Song. Fawcett Juniper, 1982.
Tom Albritton teaches in the Departments of Education and English at HighPoint University in High Point, North Carolina.
