From my boyhood on my mother took delight in quoting Bobby Burns to me. "O wad some Power the giftie gie us/To see oursels as ithers see us!" she'd say, a twinkle in her eye, knowing, as many did not seem to, that the lines came from "To a Louse, On seeing one on a Lady's Bonnet at Church." Because she has been gravely ill, my mother has been much on my mind of late, and I have been pondering all that I learned about irony and context from her. So, perhaps it's natural that I recall the gift of those lines of verse when I think of Marilla Svinicki's cover story, "When Teachers Become Learners."

In the article Marilla speaks to faculty developers, knowing that faculty are listening in. She is herself a faculty member, a psychologist, and quite obviously a sensitive, lifelong learner and self-observer. Who could not be taught by someone so open and clear about their own learning? Faculty will see in what she's written, not only how to work with students better, they will see how to work with themselves better. And faculty developers will see the same thing. It is always a gift to see ourselves as others see us, one that is humbling and uplifting at the same time.

Notions of simultaneity, cognition and re-cognition inform Barbara Mossberg's essay, "Teaching For Turbulence." For several years, Barbara has been spreading what she celebrates as the good news, the news that science now affirms that those seemingly chaotic processes in this world are actually higher forms of order. It's a dynamic order that contains contradictions and inner tensions which are constantly working themselves out and rearranging the furniture of experience. Barbara's article suggests that this perspective brings together a number strands in our intellectual heritage. It weds the general perspective of the humanities with the most advanced postulations of science and, in some senses, locates the point where faith and knowledge, certainty and uncertainty, meet. What does this have to do with teaching and learning?

Chaos theory offers a reframing of experience, a reframing which Barbara would say, adds energy to the system. Many of the specific ideas about how to teach well are already being practiced as aspects of active learning, cooperative learning, and so on. And some of her notions about knowledge will remind readers of what Horace Rockwood had to say about collaborative learning a few issues back. It's the shift toward understanding what we do as part of a dynamic system that is fresh and valuable. Yes, we solve problems. Yes, we create procedures. But life is not a machine that is always breaking down, and we are not simply mechanics keeping things running.

Even our new tools—computers and software—lift us (or drive us) into new ways of knowing. They change our epistemology and thus the content and character of our knowledge. But despite the advertising, that isn't always a painless process. Ginny Elsasser and Barbara Hollywood's article on what they learned about the importance of frustration in learning as they introduced AutoCAD into their design program at Centenary College speaks to the human, cognitive, and curricular issues that surround introducing new computer technology into some of our courses. As one who's just switched operating systems and found it equivalent to having a stranger rearrange my kitchen, I feel acutely the importance of what they have to say.

Finally, I've reviewed dozens of videos on teaching and selected a few to write about as examples of what seems to me to work best in this medium. To make critical distinctions some things end up being judged better than others. Criticism and especially comparative criticism of anyone's efforts has been scarce in publications like this. By introducing some, I guess I'll find out if we're ready for it. Is it a gift to see ourselves as others see us? You tell me.

James Rhem