Henry Rollins and Education

A colleague of mine and I went to go see Henry Rollins speak on Monday night. The audience was eclectic to say the least: young people, hipsters, punks, metal heads, people with their kids, older people, and a few greyhairs. And of course at least three educators (that I knew personally), including myself. I wish there had been more.

Henry was in fine form. Sweat beading as he spouted off articulate and satirical commentary, he spoke of growing old, the importance of doing the right things, fighting the good fight, working with National Geographic, his punk rock background, and inspiring youth to invoke positive change. Without taking as much as a water break for the entire two hours and forty-five minutes he spoke, he captivated me.

I am always moved by people who are passionate about their calling in life. Being in education, I've heard many speakers who commented on why they do what they do; few have inspired me as Henry Rollins has. And he's not an educator... At least in what people would think of in the traditional sense. He has a grade twelve education, dresses like a punk Johnny Cash (ie. all in black), and has had a colourful background involving drugs, music, and murder (well, at least witnessing one close hand). But in the sense of being someone who, for the past 30 years, has had youth look up to him and find true guidance and inspiration, he's an educator in the highest degree.

Henry spoke mostly of doing good things with your life. He spoke passionately about trying to make a positive difference. And he spoke about the importance of doing this with young people.

As I sit here, a few days later, this has really resonated with me. Henry told stories, the kind of stories that I can relate to as a previous alternative ed teacher - stories of suicidal kids, of depressed kids, of vulnerable kids. He stressed the need for adults (read: educators) to give honest and direct advice to really help. To honestly help. Not the kind of tripe that people want to hear, or the kind of advice that we think we should say given a set of circumstances. When kids come to us, often it's because they don't have anyone else they trust. It matters what we say and do. It can make the difference.

Anyway, I wish Henry Rollins could keynote my next District professional development summer institute. It would ruffle a few feathers, but I guarantee it would cause some meaningful reflection and would bring about change. Isn't that what Mr. Rollins has always done?