Just One Thing

A long time ago now, in “City Slickers,” Jack Palance sat on a horse, balanced a droopy cigarette between his lips, and told Billy Crystal that the secret to life is “just one thing.”

We could build a whole course around the question of whether Jack Palance was right–is the secret to life focusing on one single, most important thing? (I’m skeptical.) But throughout my professional life, this scene plays in the back of my head whenever I feel overwhelmed or frustrated by the number of things that I am expecting myself and my students to accomplish in any particular class meeting or semester. 

There are so many different elements at play in the kind of teaching and learning excellence we’re pursuing: content, practice, reasoning, analysis, conversation, teamwork, awareness of metacognition, study skills, community-building, critical thinking, communication, AI fluency/criticality, effective feedback and grading. And just as many others than I haven’t named.

In the midst of constantly increasing expectations and pressure on a static amount of class time (and finite time beyond the classroom, too), I often find it helpful to ask myself: What is the one thing here? In a class day of multiple activities, what is the one thing that I most want or need my students to carry away with them and bring back next time? A specific concept? Way of asking questions? Ingrained habits of active listening? Broad curiosity about semester connections?

Identifying the one thing can be a painful process because it feels like I’m oversimplifying or prioritizing among equally important things. But in terms of planning, knowing my one, underlying thing helps me to make sure (ideally) that a class period with a variety of activities in it still feels coherent to my students. It reminds me to tie everything back to the main goal as we segue from one conversation to the next. And in terms of how I feel when I walk out of the classroom, returning to the one thing for that day can help me (ideally) to focus on what we accomplished instead of what didn’t go perfectly.

Where “City Slickers” should (or shouldn’t) exist in your film canon is another question entirely. But you just never know where helpful inspiration awaits.

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