Because he would have had the answer

I wanted to talk to Charlie about a few things that have been troubling me. So after class today I got a cup of tea because I knew I would be there for awhile, and I knocked on his office door. It wasn't until someone else opened it that I remembered that Charlie is dead, and I started to cry.

I wanted to ask him how I could teach my students to be excited about learning. I wanted to ask him how I could convince them of the value of asking more questions and understanding different perspectives. (I wanted to ask him how to get students thinking beyond Foucault!) I wanted to ask him when we know we've failed as teachers. I wanted to ask him how he keeps doing what he does every day, even when his students seemed completely disinterested in the things that light him up.

But, most selfishly, I wanted to ask him why I should keep doing what I do. Because he would have had the answer. And right now, I don't.