lessons from Joseph Priestley

Have you ever heard of Joseph Priestley?  Until a week ago I never even knew of the name.  Then I started reading the book, The Invention of Air, by Steven Johnson and I quickly realized that Joseph Priestley is a man with a great story and a great impact.  Here are a few ways you can sense the impact of this one man:

• John Adams and Thomas Jefferson wrote each other 165 letters toward the end of their lives that have become legendary.  In these letters Benjamin Franklin is mentioned five times, George Washington is mentioned three times, Alexander Hamilton is name dropped twice...Priestley is mentioned 52 times.
• He wrote historical accounts about Benjamin Franklin (the two men were friends).  The famous story where Franklin flew a kite in a lightening storm comes from Priestly.  There are no records of it from Franklin himself.
• He helped to found the Unitarian Church. Additionally, the Jefferson Bible was inspired by Priestley's religious ideas.
• He "effectively invented ecosystem science." (This was one of my favorite stories from the book.)
• And maybe most notably he "invented air."  In other words he was one of the first men to discover oxygen.  For this reason he is considered one of the founding fathers of modern Chemistry. 

All that to say, Priestley was a busy man!  One of the things that has struck me most in reading this book about Priestley's life is that he not only made significant contributions to humanity, but he did so in numerous fields.  Priestley had deep roots in scientific discovery, religious teachings, and the political foundations of the American Revolution.  This man is the antithesis of specialization.  He was a utility player in the true sense of the word.  Furthermore, Priestley went as far as to condemn people that only looked at the world through a narrow lens that segregated thoughts on religion from that of science.  "[He] refused to compartmentalize science, faith, and politics.  [He] saw those three systems not as separate intellectual fiefdoms, but rather as a continuum, or a connected web."  (Johnson, 236)  The author then goes on to point out many of the hot button topics of today like global warming, stem-cell research, and intelligent design cannot be discussed without considering this "connected web" of science, religion, and politics that Priestley understood so well.

Now I am not out here to completely condemn people that specialize in one field or on one topic.  You better believe that if that I get sick or break a bone (knock on wood) that I will go to a doctor that is an expert in dealing with whatever issue I may encounter.  Specialization does have its place, but then again, it is thought provoking that one man pushed himself to be at the forefront of not one discipline, but rather three.  What would Mr. Priestley think of the way our 21st Century culture seems to compartmentalize so many topics?  What would Mr. Priestley think of the way we structure our schools?

I write these musings humbly knowing that in my own classroom I fail to extend my students learning across disciplines; rather I can get focused in "teaching my students history."  It's easy as a teacher to get caught up in our own classroom, our own assessments, and our curriculum standards that we must reach.  But Priestley makes me wonder, how can I make make my students not just better at history, but better at being inquirers and discoverers in numerous facets of life? How can I encourage my students to see the interconnectedness of all these classes they are taking and all the information they are processing?

One may argue that Priestley was a unique man living in a unique time.  Maybe that is true, but what if I have a future "Priestley" sitting in my classroom?  How can I encourage students to see there doesn't have to be limits to our knowledge, expertise, and impact?