Tracks to Clementine

The Terrible Trivium

I'm assuming everyone remembers the Terrible Trivium from The Phantom Tollbooth, but I'll go ahead and frame him for you:

Milo, Tock, and the Humbug are nearing the Castle in the Air. Just when they are this close they are stopped by a well-dressed, faceless man with an extremely pleasant voice. The man kindly asks for their help and they are only too willing to give it as he is so gentle. Their tasks are to empty a well with an eye-dropper, to dig a hole through a mountain with a needle, and to move a mountainous pile of sand from one spot to another with a pair of tweezers. They work on these tasks for a very long time until it finally occurs to them that they have been distracted. More or less.

So, a few years ago I realized that the Terrible Trivium is not always out to give people absolutely meaningless tasks, that in everyday life that pleasant, faceless man can take the form of activities that one finds meaningful and valuable but can still distract one from a larger and possibly more important goal in big picture perspective.

In my case, ol' TT shows up in much of the teaching that I do. Not that I find myself taking dreary residencies or choosing to teach in a style that I find repugnant: I'm working with interesting people and have been offered a variety of curricular challenges...but I'm getting bored. This brings me to another pop culture reference, that of a performance piece on Alive From Off Center about a woman whose mother told her never to learn to make good potato salad because, if she did, people would always ask her to bring her amazing potato salad and forget that she could do other things...be careful what you get good at.

I'm a very good teacher. I am well-organized. I have innovative ideas. I can work with a wide range of ages and abilities. I'm funny. I can think on my feet. I am very patient. (Before you go pointing fingers, I am patient with students. I am much less patient in everyday situations with adults.)

But I'm bored. And burnt out. I have plans to take a sabbatical. During that sabbatcial, I'll try something difficult and new. Maybe four things difficult and new. I'm excited even typing those words.

I know I haven't died yet because I was at a meeting yesterday that was inspring and exciting to me even though it was just about planning a week of training. Details! Theory! I eat you for breakfast!

But not everyday anymore. I've developed too many allergies...even though it tastes so good.

Why have just one metaphor when you can mix them altogether, huh?

Posted by Ida at January 19, 2007 12:38 PM