There are days when I’m positively sure I’m going to fail. Even if that feeling doesn’t last the whole day, the moments come with such intensity that I believe I’m unable to hold everything together and keep my fears from unraveling into gross reality around me. Yesterday was one of those said days.
I was at my internship school, frustrated at self for making ‘stupid’ mistakes in my presentation, sitting back observing a mentor teacher and growing more an more angry about my lack of control over the situation.
Urban education certainly has a way of flipping personal philosophy on its head. I find myself questioning methods and ‘rules’ of management all the time, asking, “Is this really what these kids need? And if not, how the heck am I supposed to know what students need? And if a kid still fails after a teacher has tried his or her darnest, is it the educator’s fault? Can those on the wrong side of the achievement gap be held responsible? And why should they if society isn’t held responsible? Does government really expect teachers to be these kids ‘saviors’?”…
My head starts spinning inside and I sink into the floor inches at a time, wondering when I’ll be able to come up for air.
Fortunately it comes when my mentor teacher hands me the pen and I stand up to lead the next part of the lesson. Suddenly, I’m in a role… not because ANY of my questions have been answered but because I’ve been given a distraction, a method of influence. I teach, interact, laugh with the kids, and start feeling better. The day ends with me feeling some sort of redemption through ‘doing.’ My body and mind went through the motions of success, whereby my tumultuous heart calmed.
I always knew acting skills were important, but in the ‘professional’ world they seem all the more vital for survival. Which brings me to another thought… if urban neighborhoods are all about respect and posturing of identity in order hold one’s own, how much should we teach ‘acting’ as a way of building esteem?
For example, I met ‘Compassion,’ a high school student today. She doesn’t have any friends and reads about seven grade levels below where she’s slated to be. I wonder how and who she communicates to… I wonder about her thoughts as I pull timid answers out with each question I ask. I try to leave my questions open-ended but she seems to search for words. Pointed questions appear easier to answer. I try to be direct without being political or rude. I want to see her express her self through some way… I’m thinking about bring in some one-acts next time, because ‘acting’ can be such a release from present limitations… “Quick, go don on your masks my friends! Be what you can’t, so that you can later stand what you are…” or something like that…
In somewhat unrelated thoughts, I like Talmudic way of asking things… even 'ridiculous' questions to God.
I like how Jews are not scared to question earnestly because that really means a person wants an answer from God, not merely complaining or avoiding the situation. I say this because I certainly have some questions about ‘why’ things are the way they are in the world… I understand why they think the Messiah hasn’t come yet if the Messiah is supposed to ‘Transform’ the world. Indeed Jesus DID transform the world at his coming, changing our very calendar from B.C. to A.D., giving us new philosophy such as “Love your enemies,” “Turn the other cheek,” “Give to the poor,” don’t forget the widows and so on… Christianity at its core is all about ‘Transformation;’ making fools wise and the wise, fools. Still, I can see their argument about injustices present in our world… It makes me wonder, “Does God allow injustice to occur as part of His judgment? And if so, why are ‘good’ people affected, what do Jews think about judgment in this life (is there any?) and how does the God of wrath (as seen in the Old Testament) make Himself known in the present?” Yes, indeed. How can questions not be loved?
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