I borrowed the title for this entry from a quote I referenced in my last post. It fits here because I’m mired in a problem evaluating whether to go it alone with something that I have next to no experience with - leaky faucets - or paying for expert help.

According to situated learning theory, newcomers to a community are motivated to learn by a desire to become full participants in a socio-cultural practice. But what happens when a person’s identity hasn’t intersected with the group that has the necessary basic information? Obviously we can’t know everything, but every day we have needs for specialized knowledge. For big needs we call in experts. I’ve never wanted to be a plumber. I don’t especially enjoy fixing broken stuff. But I also don’t like to depend on other people to perform basic tasks that I should be able to do myself. I’m not a newcomer to the plumber community - I’m a complete outsider. I only want to know how to fix a leaky faucet, so I don’t feel a need to participate actively in plumber communities.

The leaky faucet didn’t sound like a major repair in the beginning, but it’s now approaching research project status. I did what any economy-minded homeowner with a few simple tools would do. I tried to take the faucet apart to see if I could find the problem and then take the defective part to the store and say, “I need another one of these.” But of course, it wasn’t that easy (or I wouldn’t be writing this!) After getting the faucet handle off I found a valve stem and no more moving parts. I tried vice grips, but I’ve learned from experience that vice grips can do a lot of damage quickly so I gingerly, and then a little bit more forcefully, pulled and twisted what I could grab with them. To no avail.

There is a lot of do-it-yourself information out there. So I took the next step: I went to eHow and found out that I may have a “cartridge faucet” (but I’m not sure since none of the illustrations match the faucet that I own). I was feeling hopeful until a critical information breakdown occurred between step 3 and 4.

3.Remove the handle from the faucet; virtually all handles are fixed with a screw, which may be hidden under a decorative cap that can be pried off with a small screwdriver. Remove the screw, then lift or jiggle the handle off. Set the handle aside after you’ve removed it.

4.Carefully pull the cartridge out of the fixture with pliers. (Some brands of faucets may have a lock ring or lock nut that holds the cartridge in place. This must be removed - use a screwdriver or pliers - before you can remove the cartridge itself.)

The place where it says “pull the cartridge out…” doesn’t mesh with my experience. I pulled on everything there was and nothing turns or slides. How? I ask. But that information isn’t provided. So my choices now are as follows:

  • Call a plumber;
  • Buy a new faucet;
  • Look for a repair kit with instructions;
  • Continue messing with the faucet until I destroy it and end up having to buy a new one and maybe need to call a plumber to repair the mess I made.

Update: Sept. 20 - repair complete. Special tool enabled removal of cartridge. No mention of such a tool was made in any of the online sources I checked. I ended up asking the school custodian about it, and he told me about the “key,” which is what the tool is called. After that, the repair was trivial.

All of this may seem unrelated to the concerns of a teacher reflecting on his professional practice, but it emphasizes for me the value of knowledgeable experts and the need for community to facilitate learning. Despite suggestions to the contrary, teachers are not going to become obsolete (but classrooms might) because there is always the possibility of a breakdown in meaning for any communicative act, and we need teachers to bridge that gap. I agree with Will that the nature of our work will -and must- change.

Teachers are not knowledge mongers but we do serve as interpreters of the world for our students. Wenger talked about the need for people to serve as bridges between one field and another, for people to shift their identities so that they can speak to different groups. The need for a bridge describes my current situation precisely. To get from step 3 to step 4 I need a plumber who is also a teacher. I can then become a teacher, with a working faucet, who understands more about plumbing.

Students come to us from vastly different backgrounds and on a range of personal trajectories. Communities of practice will increasingly be joined by the internet, and teachers will serve to bridge the gaps between those communities. The world will, as it has been for ages, be our classroom.