The Perfect Lesson: A Never-Ending Pursuit
The Perfect Lesson: A Never-Ending Pursuit
As I soldier away, working on my horror writing course, I notice an objectively frustrating behaviour in myself: I constantly find new things to add, or things to edit, or things to tweak, or things to rewrite - in every. single. lesson.
This, I know, is the perfectionist in me - a part of myself I have done battle with since my days as a high school student. I also know that this perfectionist is, in fact, a sneaky little devil, and that I can, under no circumstances, allow them to win.
But does that count, even in education? Shouldn't I want to edit and edit and edit and edit until the lesson is sparkling with perfection - for the good of my students, so that they can get the best experience?
Honestly, that's a rhetorical question. The answer, of course, is that I want to provide students with the best possible educational experience that I can. But this doesn't mean perfection. It means doing the best that I am able to do - and the best that we are able to do can change over time. As I become more skilled, more experienced, and more knowledgeable, I am able to provide better learning experiences for learners.
There is a fine line between pursuing excellence and pursuing perfection, but the distinction is significant. Perfection is unattainable; as humans, we are by definition imperfect. Excellence, on the other hand, is something we should strive for with every important work that we undertake. Where, in our lives, is this more important than in the field of education?
And yet, there I am: trying to edit, and edit, and edit the same lesson I've revisited four days in a row - after marking it complete earlier on. Where does it stop being pursuing excellence, and begin to be perfectionism in all of its ugliness? When the work doesn't stop, that's when.
The defining feature is time. I do not have forever to work on my educational programs, and there are many that I want to create. As an educator, I have so much to share with learners, but so little time - and energy. Have you heard that saying, "Work expands to fill the time allotted"? It's bloating at its finest, and that's where I found myself. Scope creep, if you will.
How many lessons did I start this writing course off with? I actually started this course as a workshop with 10 sessions. That's right. 10. Simple dimple. Where am I at right now? A full-blown course with 7 units and 60+ lessons, quizzes, a final project, and - if you can believe it! - I actually considered making lecture videos to go along with all of these things earlier today.
There's nothing bad in any of that - except that time is passing me by and I don't have forever. And I could spend eternity pursuing perfection, because I will never attain it. The work must stop, and so it's time to reel it back. It's time to return to the pursuit of excellence.
Do the best in the time that you have, with the limits that you have, and put it out there for the world to benefit from. Come back in a year or two and revise your project. Give it an update - within the time and limits that you have - and send it back out into the world again, a better version of itself.
That's all there is to it.
Perfection is not something we can craft with human hands and human minds. And that's alright.
Stop pursuing perfection. Start pursuing excellence.
And keep an eye on that calendar.
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