Who would you pick, alive or dead, to be your teacher for a year? What would you want to learn?
If it could be for more than a year, it would be a tie between Mary (mother of Jesus) and Mary Magdalene. But if I could pick a teacher for just one year, I would choose Ben Franklin—specifically in 1771 when he began writing his autobiography. Although Franklin had his imperfections and share of failures, I would want him to teach me about writing, journalism, communication, physics, science, invention, hard work, higher education, thrift, music, politics, revolution, diplomacy, solidarity, and religious-tolerance—all through his magnetic persona of wit and wisdom.
What is one small piece of advice that has had a big impact on your life?
Ironically, the small piece of advice that has had a big impact on my life is exactly that: By small and simple things, great things come to pass. For example, when a teacher knows and calls a student by her name; or when the New Jersey driver behind me allows me to merge into his lane; or when my husband tells me “thank you” and “I love you.” These are all small things that accrue positive effects. In their reverse or absence, however, small acts can tear down and demoralize. I have noticed that the internet, for many, poses a major challenge in this regard. In my own conscientious attempt to harness the power of communication for good, I often fall short. But in the process, I have learned that no act of kindness, concern, or goodwill is ever wasted.
Where would you send a student who hasn’t traveled before?
I would send a (native English-speaking) student who hasn’t traveled before to China. Not only would the student be linguistically immersed in a completely different symbol system with diverse dialects, but also the student would experience a very different form of government and economy than that of the United States. This vast linguistic, cultural, and social difference has the power to rewire the human brain in interesting ways. The sheer peculiarity of the experience would also, among other things, cultivate for a student a much deeper sense of empathy, compassion and appreciation for the tens of millions of non-native English speakers that reside in the United States.
When was a time that you failed academically, and what did you learn from the experience?
One of my declared majors as an undergrad was pre-medicine. One semester, I was enrolled in a biochemistry course without having first taken its pre-requisite (organic chemistry) and I was failing miserably. One day, I looked around the classroom and felt the experience to be excruciatingly dull. The same semester I was enrolled in Public Speaking and it was absolute bliss for me (probably less so for my classmates and professor). The class was filled with interesting people talking about interesting things. And as the fifth youngest of six children in my family, I relished that I could speak for 10 minutes without interruption and the audience was required to pay attention and ask questions. Best of all, we learned how to deliberate issues. At the end of that semester, I changed my major for the fifth (and final) time to Communication Studies and went on to earn masters and doctoral degrees in that area. The experience of failing biochemistry taught me that with failure there is also opportunity for growth and change. Yet success ultimately comes with playing to one’s strength rather than magnifying weakness.
Why did you go into your field, and how is it different from what you expected?
I studied communication in college because I am fascinated by the linguistic construction of reality. Our language shapes who we are and where we are going. I also was born and raised in Silicon Valley, the technological capital of the world. I was immersed me in technological developments and became interested in not only how technology mediates information but also our social experiences, including learning. I have always admired schoolteachers (and was one for a short while). Now as a college professor that prepares teachers, I realize the rigor, resilience, and passion required of educators. I wasn’t expecting, however, for technology in education to be a continuous ebb and flow of faddish ideas and consumer products at the expense of authentic and pedagogically sound teacher professional development. It is an uphill battle for teachers to focus on the actual learning process amidst the chaos of technology-based distractions, including standardized testing. Yet, I am comforted by the fact that learning is a phenomenon that cannot be contained or limited by space, time or technology.