I’m not sure why it fascinates me so entirely, but the idea that every profession seems, on the surface, to involve only X number of thought processes and actions, when, in fact, the professional in question has a collection of education and experience that’s actually pretty vast in its breadth and depth. The world is full of these little iceberg-tip professionals, marching around and doing their professional thing, and the majority of what they know and draw from isn’t visible to the rest of us.

Educators in particular intrigue me. Have you ever heard a teacher explain some kid’s behavior issue to a freaking out parent? The teacher, who has done a certain amount of coursework in the field of child psychology, tends to be way less addled by little Billy’s behavior than Billy’s unglued parent, who has a degree in something totally unrelated to children and the teaching of them. The teacher has gallons of information to pull from about how kids’ minds work, how they develop, how they absorb new input, how they interact with other kids and with adults, and how they deal with their inner noise in conjunction with the chaos of their surroundings. Even Sesame Street, not a show to take molding young minds lightly, has developmental psychologists on its research staff.

For the record, education junkie though I may be, I’m just as fascinated by stockbroker icebergs, plumber icebergs, architect icebergs, chemist icebergs, and stock-car driving icebergs. I think I’m wired to always think about what’s behind the curtain and what’s hidden beneath the surface. I took a film class once (and only once) in college and I was wrecked for all movie watching for months. I couldn’t just watch a damn movie after that without my brain being overrun with thoughts about camera placement, shot angles, what the director was trying to show me, what the director wanted me to know about the plot (and when, and why, and on and on and on). It was annoying and exhausting and made watching a movie suck.

I stopped watching cartoons on Saturday mornings when I was about eleven because someone explained how each frame is drawn and colored, etc. and from then on all I could think about while watching Wiley Coyote were the poor animators and all the drawing they were having to do just so I could veg out while scarfing Corn Pops twice a month at Dad’s house.

Curiosity is basically good and necessary—mankind wouldn’t have gotten very far without it. But sometimes it’s less than calming to have the draining combination of innate curiosity and an impossible-to-turn-off obsessive side to one’s thought process. I can’t not think about stuff all the damn time. This is why I will end up on a nice, quiet tropical island someday with finite levels of input like moon phases, tide tables, mango season, and which book is next on my reading list.

Further Reading for Potential Teacher Icebergs:

Teaching Career Outlook
Education Schools
Child Psychology Degree
Educational Psychology Degree
Sesame Street and the ‘Whole Child’
‘Sesame Street’: The Show That Counts

Posted by Alexa Harrington

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