When learning any craft, one’s mind and body have to undergo changes in order to execute the skill. One of the first hurtles for a guitarist, for example, is to overcome pain until calluses form on the tips of her fingers. These calluses are necessary for the future musician to achieve any degree of dexterity. The pain hinders the artist’s freedom. This phase, however, is short lived, and the artist must soon train her fingers for faster and more precise movements. The calluses must be limited in their circumference. If the entire hand were calloused, dexterity would be stifled. The guitarist’s hands then must be slightly callused, but mostly quite sensitive.
This same lesson can be applied metaphorically to other disciplines. A teacher must form calluses. In order for a teacher to have enough courage to be gripping, he must be in the habit of shrugging off certain bothers that come with the territory. Minor disapproval, wandering attention, thoughtless or malicious criticism, or personal nervousness must bounce off his tough skin.
These callousness, however, cannot be the norm. They cannot be characteristic of the teacher. Ultimately, the teacher must be attuned the thoughts of his audience, open to critique, and compassionate with his words, even when they must move against the grain of received opinion. He must teach with dexterity.
Either extreme in this regard is to be avoided. We have all had teachers who are characterized by callus; they care little about their students, cause unnecessary controversies, and are understood only with great effort. On the other hand, teachers cannot be too soft. Many teachers will bend to the opinions of their audience and, consequently, teach with impotence. They are also often difficult to understand because their evasiveness becomes inarticulateness.
A good teacher must have the necessary calluses, yet move with dexterity.