I grew up with a brother who was and is a Trekkie.  On a normal day, after school and football practice, he was found glued to the TV set watching the most recent episode of Star Trek.  Not only was he glued, but he ran with a crowd in our high school who were also glued.  They were Trekkies.  It was as simple as that.  It was an identity thing.

Not only that, but they had a teacher who was also a Trekkie and encouraged Trekkiness in the Trenches.  Language.  Culture.  Connection.  Perhaps even belonging.  These were some of the upshots of “those happy days.”  It was a clique of Trekksters who were also very bright and into both science and mathematics.  Geeks.  Total Geeks.  Of course, my opinion.

The only saving grace for my brother was his being an All-State Football Player in the State of Pennsylvania.  Really?  Brains and brawn in the same body?  Wisdom suggested I don’t make too much fun of him, if you know what I mean.

I, on the other hand, did not appreciate Star Trek at all.  I never watched it.  Too “out there.”  Speculative.  Imaginary.  Scientific.  Weird.  Boring.

Now, some thirty plus years later, I find myself remembering the theme song.  It’s like an internal voice inviting me to go back there.   It’s like all this time it has been lying dormant, in the subconscious of my mind, just waiting for a story in my  life to “need it,” call it forth, resurrect it.

Trekkies are called to three things:

To explore strange, new worlds.

To seek out new life and new civilizations.

To boldly go where no man has gone before.

Do you remember this stuff?  It’s crazy!  How can I remember these streams of thought from a show I did not like at all and was certainly not drawn to?

The answer, I believe, has to do with circumstances.

Now I find myself as a teacher;  a teacher in the 21^st century when change, whether we like it or not, it upon us.  Circumstances dictate the need for the new.  Present day realities voice the invitation to be…well…I don’t want to say it, but…Trekkie?

Please don’t tell my brother I said that!

As an educator, I have to admit that it may be time to “Go Trekkie.”  If you are an educator, like me, and you have a heart for your students and the unique, sacred trust of this calling to teach, this thing called education, you know what I speak of.

Isn’t it true that it’s now our turn to explore new worlds?

Last semester, I began to explore the brave new world of MOOC’s.  I brought MOOC content into our Community College classroom.  Hmmm….that’s not something that has happened much in the past.  But imagine the possibilities.  Are there any limitations/borders/boundaries to what might be possible?  Asked another way, “What might we do that we are not currently doing?”  Wow!

Certainly my own unwillingness to participate and let such a paradigm stretch me might be an issue.  But that is true regardless of our present realities.  And then there is my ego.  Do I really believe that I am the one true sheriff in town when it comes to the subject matter of my classes?  Really?  Am I that good?  Or is this simply a sign of my own insecurities?

These are only the beginning rumblings of a brave new world of education which is rapidly approaching us.  I wonder if Captain Kirk is smiling?

Second, isn’t it also true that it’s now our turn to seek out new life and new civilizations?

Globalization and a global economy are not going away.  Salman Khan’s recent work, “The One World Schoolhouse:  Education Reimagined,” will convince even the harshest of critics, those who just don’t like change, that “our world” no longer has geographical boundaries, whether of the physical or pedagogical kind.

Others are having the courage to want more from life;  seeking out “new life.”  They are redefining and determining to not settle for simply a job, but to address the deeper, more difficult, but deeply rewarding question, “What does it mean to be human?”  For these courageous souls, life is not a matter of breathing in and out, simply drawing air.  While these are signs of existence, they are cheap substitutes for life.  They want more, something tethered to eternity, their eternity, and the paradoxical freedom which such tethering brings.

They are seeking out new life and hoping, believing that education just may have a role to play on their pilgrimage.  I honor such courage and believe in my own heart, they are onto something…

Lastly, consider the possibility of boldly going where no man has gone before?  This is tricky language for a profession which is not known for its entrepreneurial spirit.  This is education we are talking about, not the Silicon Valley!

But, this is the future and it is our turn now.  Because of the weightiness of our calling, we have no choice but to turn our back on turning back.  We must go with boldness into the unknown of the future.  We must make tracks where there are no tracks.  And it is the significance of our cause which beckons our confidence.

Education “unplugged” is before us.  That which is dormant in so many needs to be awakened.  And education, well done, is there to draw out;  to set free;  to guide;  to coach.   Inherent to this art is potential either realized or unrealized.  It’s that weighty!

For some, it’s a question of Captain Kirk.  Or Spock?  I still do love his pointy ears – they were cool.  For others though, of the non-scientific type, perhaps it’s Gandalf?  Gandalf The Grey?   Gandalf the White?

My brother blessed me by watching Star Trek.  I didn’t realize it at the time, but it is true.  Thank you, Eric, for that gift.

Is it possible that before us lies a community of emerging “Gandalfians?”  I want my life to be a blessing, a gift,  by “educating well,” by being more “Gandalfian” in nature.

And you?