Learning to teach.

Each summer, the International Women's Writing Guild moves onto the campus of Skidmore College in Saratoga Springs for its annual conference. Days later, hundreds of participants from all over the country and the world leave. Many of these women are moved or changed in some way, be it small or profound.

What occurs during that week to affect so many women? Simply, good education. All over the campus, women attend their choice of over 50 workshops-share stories, make music, and create art together. On a deeper level, though, women teach and learn from each other in a joyous, challenging, nonhierarchical setting.

The contrast with traditional education is startling. In the latter, students often feel intimidated, caught in the grip of an unkind system. They seek encouragement and instead encounter apathy. They say "I cannot" and believe it, even as instructors complain about the low quality of "material" (that is, the students), assuming and accepting that less-than-brilliant students are doomed to mediocrity or failure. Both students and educators gripe about arrogance, manipulation, and exploitation.

What is so different about the learning experience at the IWWG conference? More importantly, what can our educational system learn from a group of totally dissimilar women who come together for only one week? A lot.

The first lesson is respect. The women respect each other as human beings, regardless of whether one has a high-school education or a Ph.d. They respect each other for what each individual has to offer. The efforts of a student are respected as much as those of a professional. Such attitudes as "I know more thank you," "Your opinion isn't important," "I've been doing this longer than you:' and "You're not very good at this; maybe you should try doing something else" are conspicuously absent.

So is, dishonesty. People are remarkably honest with each other, being forth, right about expectations and what makes them uncomfortable. They are honest about belief systems and orientations and about how and where someone's work can be strengthened. There is no need to read between the lines, to play games, or to try to do the "right" thing.

This honesty does not disrupt the creative process. In fact, it encourages people to take risks, to push themselves harder. Could this be because, in contrast to the existing educational system--which often seems to disdain that which is not tried, tested, and deemed to be "right"--the emphasis here is on fostering creativity. On celebrating leaps into the unknown? How can people learn if they are forbidden to create? Learning itself is an act of creation: creating the capacity within each of us to open ourselves to the infinite wisdom of the universe.

Creative learning occurs best in an atmosphere of mutual support, not competition. For a student to measure herself against someone else is self-defeating. For instance, no one enters an essay contest for admission to the IWWG conference. There is no curve. No one is left questioning her abilities as an instructor be, littles her. Participants come to learn how to improve, not to see who already knows the most.

In fact, this system of support stems from the sense of community that pervades the campus all week. Is community important to education? You bet. Community enables individuals-to relate to each other as people rather than roles. It enables us to ignite the sparks of mutual affinity that allow us to see every other person as our teacher and our teachers as truly human.

A sense of community also allows us to celebrate the unique value of each individual. Traditional education, unfortunately, tends to squeeze the human spirit into straitjackets. Students are expected to conform. Many of the stipulations, however, have more to do with establishing hierarchical and authoritarian roles than with education. The truth is, educators can force students to obey them, but they cannot force respect. Given that, perhaps the only norms should be those designed to avoid chaos. Then perhaps we could begin to celebrate the meaningful and personal knowledge that each student has to offer--rather than expecting them to buy into preexisting biases.

To accept this means breaking through stereotypes. The members of the IWWG implicitly understand that ethnicity has nothing to do with the capacity to impart knowledge and the capacity to learn. All women are treated equally: with equal respect, equal candor, and equal expectations. Everyone is assumed to accept responsibility for herself, and everyone does. Who we are--our ethnic, gender, and perceived role identities--can only cease to be a handicap when we stop teaching and learning that it is a handicap.

Finally, there is a spirit among the women of the IWWG that is more and more lacking in the world of learning. It is love. It is the understanding that, to continue down the path of knowledge as student, as teacher, or as both, we must love who we are. We must love what we do. We must pass on that love.

There is nothing simpler, nothing stronger. There is nothing more effective in a world grappling with problems and grasping for answers. And in the final analysis, that is all education is ever really about.

Nancy J. Thompson is an instructor of history and English composition at a college in Troy, New York. She is also a freelance writer; her latest short story appeared in the summer 1995 issue of Atom Mind.