Written by Radha Gopalan, Mentor, LEC 2021
‘Rigour’ is a culture. This was reinforced for me in many many ways as I deep dived into LEC 2022 officially in the role of a mentor but also other wonderful parts including ‘breather’. The only way to truly experience a culture is to immerse oneself in it and the culture of LEC is such that you cannot do otherwise. The imagination and design of this course demands immersion of everyone – participant, faculty, mentor, the course team (on the scene or behind it).
As a school teacher I remember being part of conversations, often laden with anxiety, on the “need to build rigour in learning”. Lessons and assessments need to be more rigorous, students must be given more work or harder work etc. What often did not get enough attention was the need for work that challenges students’ thinking in new and interesting ways. The LEC challenged our individual and collective thinking, not just in new and interesting ways but in ways we may not have imagined thinking possible. It pushed us intellectually, often physically (the games, body & mind-shifters as we moved from one session to another and Panten’s Zumba did that incredibly well!), and emotionally, stirring and moving us to face our own selves in myriad ways. Our entrenched conditioning and world view, biases, ‘no-go’ areas. Our bodies, minds and hearts were asked to shift!
The ‘rigour’ began, for me, with the essay on the title of the course. Nothing to be taken for granted or assumed. Right through the course, in one way or another, I was encouraged, cajoled and pushed towards asking why and what is the purpose? In trying to find answers to this, I ‘discovered’ a few things about the LEC culture of rigour.
It was there in the structure of the course, the selection of readings where stories of and from libraries and librarians, pedagogy of reading and library practice, readings about and from different contexts, exemplars of library practice and many others were woven together into a rich compendium. When poring over the readings challenged one’s thinking, threw up many questions and when texts seemed inaccessible, one reached for the Reading Circle that opened the text revealing its insights. The discussion forum where many of us deliberated and argued freely, opened ourselves up, shared and heard thoughts, memories, apprehensions, imaginations, stories and poems. Thinking and learning truly happened in new and interesting ways. Play, art, theatre, music, dance, quiet spaces, pauses, stitching and drawing together presented us with other ways to learn and construct knowledge as meaningfully as we could at that time and place (virtually and in person).
When a curriculum asks (and demands) that we engage rigorously with our mind, heart and senses for true learning to happen, it can be revelatory. Joyful and exciting as it can be (the visit to Chorao and together creating the books, treasure hunts, dressing up as our favourite book characters), it can also unsettle, disturb, challenge our abilities and certainties, make us confront things we do not want to (discussions on ‘risky’ texts, facing caste in our lives which make us face and question our own prejudices and biases and its influence on what we curate for children). When this is held and supported with empathy, understanding, care, humour and the giving of time and energy then meaningful learning happens. I experienced it and saw it happen in many others, revealing itself often outside the ‘classroom’.
Living together as a community, working, sharing our ideas, thoughts, dreams, finding solitude and stillness when needed but also knowing that we can reach out for support, unhesitatingly. This was the web, built on relationships that allowed us to learn with rigour and without fear. Relating with each other, examining our relationships with books, reading, children, learning, education, our society and the larger world.
This web allowed me to understand and ‘practice’ the culture of rigour more deeply through one of these relationships – mentoring a strong and vibrant group of four. To nudge, encourage and sometimes push hard on assignments, urging that one challenges oneself by taking on tasks outside one’s ‘comfort’ areas; think together about the need and value of critical feedback in learning; to pause and take a breath, go beyond the ‘doing’ and reflect on the why and what of our doings (why we journal) not just for the course but to move towards praxis. I learnt to try and balance the expectations of the course and my responsibilities with each one’s personal goals and challenges, so that none of us falls off! I watched the shifts in my own learning and role as a mentor as I began understanding the immense possibilities of libraries, and that of library educators. In reading Emily Ford I found my ‘purpose’ and responsibility – keep asking of myself and the group, at every turn, why? what is the purpose? why am I saying this? why am I writing this? why this question? towards learning with authenticity and rigour.
This was a new experience in mentoring. For the first time I was engaging with adult learners rather than young adults and children. Adults who are on their own learning journeys and see the course from and for their own contexts. I learnt to recognise that each one must take responsibility for their own learning.
Finally I am left with thoughts about the foundation on which this rigour culture was built. The vision, scholarship, practice and praxis of those who built this course. A vision that draws from a deep commitment to education, to build, learn with and from each other and grow as professionals and communities of practice. A deep conviction of the transformative power of libraries and library educators. A praxis that has allowed re-imagining and re-creating of the course every time it has been offered.
