“I just want to see it.”

I have to write this quickly—I have two dishes of roasted potatoes and carrots to take out of the oven in 40 minutes to go and join my pot luck dinner of 9 colleagues as we feast on an American dinner of fried chicken and watch the Inauguration festivities in under two hours.

I had wondered if I would miss America especially today—January 20th is always exciting for political and history junkies—but oddly enough, today I don’t have an especial longing for America. Indeed, in the last two days I have been steeped in Americana—political and historical glories so much in the last two days.

Yesterday I headed a panel of four adults and two students to select a delegation to participate in the Harvard Model Congress in about four weeks in Boston. When the two students made the announcement originally that there would be a trip to the United States, and work with Harvard students, there was intense interest in the Model Congress. I mean—missing a week of school to play in Boston (they don’t get exactly what that might mean weather-wise for Boston Februaries!) and visit Harvard (Holy Grail!) was intoxicating.

Then I announced how we would select the delegation of 15 students. There was work involved. Since the Harvard Model Congress is a simulation of governmental procedures where about 1600 high-school students role play governmental officials, I figured we should have a mini-version of that so as to screen and select the best possible students. I handed each interested student a slip of paper with a name of a member of the U.S. Congress. They had one week to research the official, craft a speech that might be given in January, 2009 to a group of supporters, and then would stand to be grilled by the panel, and need to continue the role play with an extemporaneous Q&A. I figured we would lose most of the students with that kind of work involved, pressure, and necessity for public speaking.

During the week, a handful of students asked for advice, clarification on party ideologies, and many asked if I could be bribed. Sadly, few ever try and see how many scruples I may or may not have…

In the last two weeks two donors have come forward to underwrite the trip for all of us flying to Boston, staying in the hotel, food and expenses. One is a graduate of Harvard, but the other said to me, “I have not yet gotten to America. But if I can help some students go, that will be wonderful. American students need to see how great our Jordanian students are. But someday, I want to go to America. I just want to see it.”

So yesterday, at 4:00 I greet a group of 50+ students, eager to make their speeches and face our questioning squad. Good Heavens! We allowed each student 5 minutes for making their 2-minute speech, and answering questions. It was going to be a long session!

But over the course of the next four hours, there was no wasting of time, no necessary cajoling, no whining—it was as mature a gathering and execution of a plan that I have ever seen with teen-agers. I had volunteers to start, and we got in places, asked the students to be a respectful audience, and we began.

Each student did a credible job. Each student had striven to understand the point of view of his/her assigned official, trying to make that difficult way through policy statements, websites, and arcane political jargon. From the first student to the very last, it was a pleasure to listen to the speeches, a wonderful challenge to pick apart the language of the speech, challenge them on issues and problems, and watch these poised Jordanians echo the values Americans hold dear.

They may not really care about these issues of alternative energy sources, universal health care, homeland security, ‘No Child Left Behind’ statistics, automotive bail-outs, farm subsidies or investor confidence hyperbole, but our students rose to this challenge. Some of them have thicker Arab accents than others, and many would not be what some would think are “the real Americans,” but as I watched them trying to be selected so that they could visit Boston, that cauldron of independence and seat of learning, it was the most American of afternoons.

Once in awhile there were gaffes—a Texas Republican senator endorsing gay marriage, or another senator calling for donations from state governments to help the federal deficit, or another senator who, when questioned about the “great products from the great state of Iowa,” couldn’t think of any products. The Californian who believed home rentals would solve the foreclosure crisis, and a Louisiana senator who felt fluoride in the water was the greatest crisis his state faced. But you know, as I sat there hearing their sincere speeches, many peppered with the all-American salvo, “God bless America,” I was so impressed.

One 9th grader had his speech memorized, and answered questions as skillfully and correctly as the man himself—I should know, he played the representative of my family’s district in Ohio. Steve Chabot himself would have been moved by this Arab Omar’s wonderful delivery and handling of questions.

There was the student who is very frightened of public speaking—but there he was, doing what every teacher hopes to curry—taking a risk. There was the new student, dramatic and flamboyant, playing a lesbian Hispanic representative from California. There was another new student, playing a pro-Israel Senator, railing against Palestinians and sounding the way the Senator would in real life—even if the words were painful for an Arab to embrace. There was my buddy Hamzah playing Kentucky Senator McConnell, quoting native son Abraham Lincoln. And there was the talented 9th grader playing African-American James Clyburn and reminding everyone of the importance of a day dedicated to Martin Luther King, Jr.

53 students. 53 speeches. 53 Q&A sessions—long, without question, but rewarding, and moving to see my students investigate and explore the process and vagaries of American democracy. Would that we could take them all.

Today I visited a class taught by my former student Greg. He was brilliant. He has been student-teaching a United States history class, and while I have watched him before, he has grown in stature as a teacher in the last month. He commanded the class, eyeing the clock carefully so he could make the points he desired at the precise moment in the lesson he had designed. He taught about Abraham Lincoln’s steps toward the emancipation of slaves. It was never just a “tell ‘em the story” history class. It was a carefully constructed lesson about the words Lincoln said, when he said them, the rejections he made of emancipation, public opinion, and how it all culminated in 1863-65. How proud Greg made me watching this class—how involved these Jordanians were in a class about a history that is not their own.

CNN is on in the other room as I speedily bring this to a close—and they keep saying how the crowd has a feeling of “idealism” and “hope” coupled with a “polite, serious and purposeful” mood. That is just like those students vying for a few spots to travel to America, see what it is all about, work at portraying government officials, with Arab accents and points of view, all because of their idealism and hope.

How magnificent to celebrate the very values I treasure in my home country, and how moving to see these values taking blooming in my students in faraway Jordan.

Tonight we will eat American-style food, breathlessly watch the transfer of power from one party to another, see Dr. King’s dream fulfilled, hear a monumental speech, and take it all in.

Yes, I would love to be in America today, just to see it, but I have a beautiful vantage point right here, thousands of miles away, as we debate and clarify, and stake our hopes on the future.

That was the timer. Any other thoughts will have to wait!

Enjoy this day, and ponder the beauties of the American promise.