Compassionate learning
Please call me by my true names,
so I can hear all my cries and laughs at once,
so I can see that my joy and pain are one.
Please call me by my true names,
so I can wake up,
and so the door of my heart can be left open,
the door of compassion.
Thich Nhat Hanh
This part of Call me by my true names opened a session on Introduction to APIs I taught this week.
Asking questions to improve your understanding on a subject is a form of compassion. It helps you and others present or in this async world, everyone else that watch the recording later. It is a way to show that your curiosity matters and that you are willing to show up for it.
I’d go as far as to say that is also a small act of courage. We often think of courage as grand acts or displays of bravery, but we build our courage with the small acts. In raising our hands, in showing up for the workshops, in following up with practice, in raising our voices and in letting others raise theirs.
Why start with a poem for an introduction to APIs? I started the workshop with this poem because I wanted the students to feel safe to ask questions, and maybe help them recast what it means to ask questions in a learning environment. We sometimes get coy about asking questions because we have been burned before with answers that intend to show our lack of knowledge instead of highlighting our will to improve. I am here to tell you to forget about those times, they might have hurt in pointing to what we are not yet, but there is so much more to be later, if only we lean into thoughtful questions and continue seeking understanding.
The poem is not about learning, at least not in the context of APIs and their design. However, it allow us to prompt for the question of compassion in every stage of our lives. Since learning is fundamental to our personal and professional growth, we need tools that allow us to continue learning even when we make mistakes and ask seemingly foolish questions.
Let this be a reminder of the impact of compassion in your learning journey.
