A good teacher, like a good entertainer first must hold his

Hear the voice of John Henrik Clarke, sage of history and teacher of nations, who declared: “A good teacher, like a good entertainer, first must hold his audience’s attention, then he can teach his lesson.” In this saying is revealed the sacred art of instruction. For knowledge, though precious as gold, cannot be poured into an unready vessel. The mind must be awakened, the heart stirred, the eye drawn in—only then can wisdom enter. The teacher, like the entertainer, must weave light and sound, passion and presence, to capture the wandering spirit, and once it is held, he may inscribe upon it the truths that endure.

The ancients knew this well. In the marketplaces of Athens, Socrates did not lecture like a dry stone tablet. He questioned, provoked, drew laughter, and lit the flame of wonder in his companions. Only after their attention was seized did he guide them toward virtue and truth. In the courts of India, the Buddha spoke in parables and images, stirring the imagination of farmers and kings alike, so that the message of liberation could find root. These were not mere teachers of facts; they were masters of presence, enchanting before instructing.

Consider the story of Frederick Douglass, the self-taught slave who rose to become one of the greatest orators of his age. When he spoke against slavery, he did not recite laws alone. He painted pictures with words, gripping his audience with vivid tales of his own suffering and the longing of his people. Only after capturing their attention with the fire of his voice did he deliver the lesson of justice and equality. Without his gift of presence, his truths may have been ignored. But because he mastered both the art of teaching and the art of holding hearts, his words reshaped a nation.

The meaning of Clarke’s wisdom is plain: to reach the soul of another, you must first win their gaze and their ear. A teacher who ignores this is like a farmer who scatters seed on stone—it bears no fruit. But one who understands the need to seize attention is like a farmer who tills the soil before sowing. The seed then falls on fertile ground, and the harvest of wisdom is abundant. This is why the great leaders of history have always been great storytellers, poets, orators, and visionaries. They knew that hearts must be captured before minds can be instructed.

The lesson for us is this: when you teach—whether in classrooms, in families, or in daily life—do not mistake information for education. Facts alone do not transform; only when they are clothed in passion, relevance, and connection do they become wisdom. The child, the worker, the seeker—each must first be moved, engaged, drawn in. Then, and only then, will the lesson take root in memory and action.

What, then, are the practical actions? Cultivate the art of speaking with life. Tell stories, for they are bridges to the heart. Use images, humor, questions, and silence wisely, so that minds lean forward to listen. Be present, not only in words but in spirit, so that those before you feel seen and valued. And above all, remember that teaching is not the mere transfer of facts—it is the awakening of souls. To awaken, you must first stir; to stir, you must first capture attention.

Thus the words of John Henrik Clarke resound across generations: “A good teacher, like a good entertainer, first must hold his audience’s attention, then he can teach his lesson.” Let us honor this truth by becoming teachers who enchant before instructing, who inspire before explaining, who seize hearts so that they may shape minds. For in this union of art and wisdom lies the power to change not only individuals, but the very course of history.