As people who know me can attest, I want to know "why" all the time.
"Why do we call it a shekere sometimes and a hyotan other times?"
"Why are the shime bachi all the same length when we're all different sizes?"
"Why don't we want more input from the audience?"
This philosophy doesn't always endear me to people, and I've censored myself over the years somewhat because I realize some just get tired of it. I'm still inquisitive as ever, but I've found it better to either phrase things in a better way, or as part of a conversation instead of during practice.
So what's the big deal about questions? You ask or you don't, you get them answered or you don't. Not so fast...
- Questions don't have to be said.
- Teachers who *won't* tell vs. *can't* tell.
The danger is when you have an instructor who doesn't know the answer and is hiding the fact that they don't know the answer. I'd rather have someone say, "I don't know; that's a good question" than pretend they know and turn the question around towards me. It may not be easy to know when a teacher won't versus can't, but sometimes that knowledge is more important than the answer to your question itself.
- Question yourself first.
As one who teaches workshops and groups, I want to know that the students are trying to figure out the answers, even if the answers they come up with are, well..."interesting." Being spoon-fed the information all the time leads to a stupid student, no matter how much they might "know".
---
It may be annoying to deal with over-inquisitiveness , but the opposite of that is someone that thinks they know it all. Someone who wants answers will keep learning; the one who doesn't has stopped growing.
No comments:
Post a Comment