The caring teacher paradox

There is a sculpture in a museum near my home that I keep rediscovering. The sculpture, “I Need You” by Rose B. Simpson, depicts a mother and a young child embracing. It is placed in the middle of the room, allowing visitors to observe it from all sides and build their journey of discovery as they circle it.

At first glance, it is a commonplace sight: a mother and her child embracing in a bond we easily recognize and many of us relate to. The mother is holding her child, guarding and supporting her, fully, without hesitation or restraint. Her commitment to holding and safeguarding her child — making sure that she knows she is being held and protected — is unmistakable. Nothing could disrupt her commitment and embrace.

As we walk over to the other side of the sculpture, we see a matching certainty. The child clearly fully abandons herself to her mother’s embrace, knowing that she is safe and cared for, no matter what. The mutuality of this unquestioning, reliable, caring-for and being-cared-for is unmistakable in this stunningly beautiful sculpture.