I have signed up for Introductory Arabic class…again. I suppose the single biggest regret of this whole I-live-and-teach-in-the-Middle-East thing is that I didn’t become fluent in Arabic. Oh, languages…I used to love learning languages! I remember being in French I class with Mr. Hall at Gamble Jr. High—I loved that class! I was the best! And then in college I started in on German (after a brief foray with Spanish and Latin) and went to Salzburg, Austria to perfect my German. I even convinced a tourist one time that I was a native. What happened to my muse for languages???
If you are a long-time reader of the blog, you will remember the fanfare and excitement with which we all flocked to Arabic class four years ago. Khalil taught us, and our class of 18 met at the end of the week for two hours. That timing might explain why halfway through the year the class had dwindled to about a half dozen. I attended class pretty faithfully, hey, I even made a stack of flash cards. I learned vocabulary—but then something happened when we went to make sentences. The sentences didn’t really form very well. By the end of the year, I attended the class with two other friends—yes, it turned out our class of 18 had reduced to three—and I even cheated occasionally off of their papers. Oh, no I just announced via the internet that I have cheated. Well, I wanted to save face in Introductory Arabic class.
In the fall of 2008, I decided I should go back to Introductory Arabic again. Khalil had a fresh batch of ex-pat recruits, and this time I was going to practice more. I think I lasted three weeks.
Since then, I have learned that one can get by in Jordan without an extensive understanding of Arabic. But still, that isn’t how I wanted it to be. I wanted to be one of the “sensitive” ex-pats, one who enjoyed the knowledge of the different Arabic dialects, and could converse with everyone from the souk bazaars to the boardrooms. I did have a great line every time a parent asked me about the ex-pats learning of Arabic when I served on panel discussions. My ready line is, “I know the three most important words in Arabic: inshallah, wallah, yallah.” Cue the laughter. [Oh, I should translate for those of you who did not attend even rudimentary Arabic classes—those three words mean, “if God wills it,” “I swear to God,” and “Yeah, come on, let’s go!”] Every time I am on the panel they beam and laugh.
I have even bought four books over the last three years about learning Arabic. I am not sure if I have cracked those books very often (“I am not sure,” he asks????? I think we all know the answer to that one!) but they look good on the bookshelf. They make me look earnest. Well, I suppose they also make me look stupid since my level of Arabic is still at the advanced introductory stage!
Last year KA hired a new teacher to help the ex-pats in their Arabic immersion. I heard she made you work. I heard she gave homework and quizzes. I heard she was feared—and good. If you saw her, you would wonder where the “feared” part came from. She is a beautiful, 24-year old who studied in the UK. At the end of last year the adult students did a play in Arabic for the school…wait a minute—no one said there would be a play!! And applause!!!
I heard that our headmaster John planned to sign up for Introductory Arabic class this year. I decided I should probably sign up for it…again. Maybe this time…cue the Liza Minnelli soundtrack please.
Okay, so I looked at the lists of who had signed up for the two blocks of Introductory Arabic class, and I decided to go with the group I thought would be the most fun. So I am back in the game! The first class we all got to pick our Arabic names and practice with the “Isme John,” part—guess what that means…”My name is John…” Yes, I am back at the beginning.
I picked Yahya as my Arabic name. In part because that is the name for Christian John in Arabic (when you go to Mukawir, the site where John the Baptist had that unfortunate tangle with Salome, one sees that name on the signs) and I chose Yahya in part because I love the sound of it. Every time I say it, my shoulders go up with a little bit of whimsy. So Lina, the lovely teacher, told us the meanings of many, many Arabic names, and the adults start choosing names because they want to be “Gift from God,” or “Lovelier than All,” or “Tough Guy,” et cetera. So our class is comprised of the following in their Arabic guises: Yasmin, Hadi, Danya, Zein (whoops! She changed her name to Fareeda because she liked the meaning of it more.) and Sara, Qusai, Ali, Bader, Tarik, Khalil, and Heba…We enjoyed the practice and had fun.
We worked on the guttural sounds that just don’t have a match in English, we learned new words and she put each of us in the “hotseat” for about sixty seconds as she plied us with questions. Lina is an excellent teacher and we are doing well. I will speak for myself—I am doing well. Of course, it is my third time in Introductory Arabic class. So I should be a star.
Last week I learned that one of our classmates jumped ship to the other class because that student felt the other adults were having too much fun and weren’t serious enough. Well, I won’t comment because I do not use the blog to vent, but SERIOUSLY!! We can be a little rowdy and learn too. I suppose he or she will study so hard and be in intermediate Arabic class soon. He or she might not even repeat Introductory Arabic class.
So last week we learned words associated with weather, so everywhere we went we practiced our words for ‘sunny’ and ‘chilly’ and ‘hot’ and ‘gorgeous.’ Oh, as long as we are reciting these words, I am at the top of the class. We haven’t done much writing yet. I am interested to see how Lina does with the teaching of Arabic writing. It’s hard. It takes me back to third grade when there were all these comments and warnings about Johnny’s messy penmanship. Let’s see how this goes…
One day we practiced the, “How old are you?” question and learned numbers associated with age. Well, that is a hoot. The oldest in class is 61 and the youngest is 23. When it came time for me to disclose my age, I looked over at the young, newbie John and said, “I am John Wolf times two.” But it was funny when someone looked at another young ‘un and said, “I have pants older than you!” We have a 54-year old, a 44-year old, a 34-old year, and a 24-year old in class. So we had to muse about the march of time.
Anyway, so far class has been mumtaz (excellent!) and I am getting the gender classifications correct and I am even about to go look for those flashcards.
I mentioned last time that this is a difficult month—it is college-recommendation-writing-hell, or as I have called it for the last 15 years—October. I have stayed on my schedule. I have written 17 college recs in the last two weeks, and I have 3.25 left to write this week. (After I finish this blogisode I should go and finish that last .25 about the wonderful child—what is her name??!! Just kidding!) Then I have to write advisor reports about my five advisees…but the German train is arriving and departing on time so far.
The other day Fareeda asked for a quiz tomorrow—Fareeda!!! Oh, by the way, the other day I walked into Introductory Arabic class one minute late, so I was the first on the “hotseat.” I missed a response to “Good night” (Hey! It has like 6 syllables to it and doesn’t follow the model for “Good morning”!!) so Lina, asked me, “Yayha, did you study?” Oh, see, there is where the feared part comes in. I looked at her and answered honestly, “La!” (Which do you think it was? I was honest, No!). So we have a quiz tomorrow and I don’t want Qusai or Fareeda to beat me. However, the young wunderkind, Khalil, will probably beat me…but maybe if I go study…okay. I will report back later how I do! Here we go again: the third time may be the charm for Introductory Arabic class!
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Friday, October 14, 2011
Birthday Leftovers
Ten days ago it was my birthday. I think the biggest change since the birthday is when I go to the gym and sit on the exercise bike and have to plug in my age, it has to go one number up.
Ten days ago it was my birthday.
I’m not sure if that is especially blog-worthy, but as I looked back over the last four years of blogs, I do mention it every year. Gosh all-mighty! In 2009 I wrote, “Oh, I am glad October 4th and 5th are over. My birthday is October 4th, and frankly, I’m just glad the pressure that something might happen is over, and then the questions about my birthday are over. It was just a non-event, that’s all.
Don’t worry about me—I am not some sad clown crying in the corner acting any more needy than usual. It’s just an interesting thing, the birthday thing, to figure out and reflect upon, but rest assured I am not one of those middle-aged (gasp! when did that happen??) Bah- humbug-haters-of-birthdays. Actually I love the whole birthday thing. It’s just that this year, it was a non-starter.”
In 2007, I was brand-new and dear Elizabeth Berger organized an outing on October 4th—and that was at the time at KA when outings were few. No faculty had cars yet and we had to rely on shuttle buses or taxis to take us anywhere. I remember the excitement of going out then (and no one knew where to go either!) like it was when you were 14 and you went out without your parents…exciting indeed. In 2008 my dad came to Jordan and was here over my birthday. You know the best thing about that birthday was exactly what I don’t like about my birthday anymore—when my dad was here there was no wondering if I would go out. How funny is it that—in the absence of a spouse or partner—you wonder if anyone will ask you out. Any other day of the year, it is no bother at all.
In 2010 old friend Gary and new friends took me out—and Gary is wise enough not to wait to make plans. As another bachelor with the “plus one” status perpetually added to invitations, he understands you just want to know you have a plan.
So as the birthday rolls around, one wonders—who might want to take me out??? It’s okay to laugh at that sentence—I just did after I typed it. It reminds me, in a strange way of the Seinfeld episode where Jerry is appalled that Keith Hernandez would ask for help moving. Jerry reflects, well, comes close to reflection, I don’t know if any of those characters actually reflected much. Jerry thinks about what level, what class, of friendship you must be to ask someone to help you move. Those aren’t the regular friends—no!! It is that special bond of friendship. That’s the birthday thing. One might have many friends, but only a certain level, or class, of friendship is the take-you-out-on-your-birthday, or organize-the-birthday-dinner mate.
So how was birthday #5 in Jordan? Well, my students were tickled at the whole thing. Now remember, students get excited in part because they hope you won’t have class on your birthday, and so everybody wins! I don’t do that. But some of my advisees had told many people so as I walked around all day, many students wished me a happy birthday. At lunch my advisees tried to figure out a way to skip sports practice that afternoon and take me out. I advised them that we would all get in trouble! But they wanted to go out. The only problem is that I had choir practice at 7:00 and needed to be back before that, and since many of my advisees are day students, 8:00 was too late to wait to go out. So that was the end of that.
Mohammad Attar, a student from last year’s AP Art History class, delivered a gorgeous cake, similar to the cake he delivered last year from Sugar Daddy’s in Amman, and, bam, that 20th century class got to have a party for 15 minutes.
As the day progressed, the students were so enthused about a birthday and wished me well. The mail didn’t help out—no mail came, but that is hardly a surprise. So at 7:00 I went to choir practice (have I mentioned this in a blog yet? I don’t think so—I will have to chronicle the progress of the choir in a blog soon) and then went back to my apartment and enjoyed some birthday calls. At 10:30 Tristan came by with flowers and a pecan pie.
Here is where the bachelor status is most noticeable—there just isn’t anyone designated as the One to take you out. Again, here is what I wrote in 2009: “it wasn’t a day for pining, just wanting a little more of something…and then the following day when some people asked, “So, what did you do??” and I tried to change the subject to a less vulnerable topic. So October 4th and 5th ended. Regular life could resume without the pressure and potential letdown of a New Year’s Eve like day.”
This year on October 5th a number of colleagues asked what I had done the night before. I looked non-chalant and replied, “Nothing really. I talked on the phone with some family and friends.” They looked almost upset—see that’s what you want to avoid—and said, “I just assumed so-and-so was taking you out. I’m so sorry.”
That’s exactly what you don’t want at a birthday!! “I’m so sorry.”
So anyway, the days since the birthday are better because that strange pressure is off, and the person you think will ask you out, well, it just recedes into the background. And frankly, I have had some nice offers. Last Friday, the advisees got it together and we went out for a Friday lunch. Friday lunch in Jordan is not some quick affair—this is an all-afternoon event of eating and relaxing and talking and visiting. My advisees planned for us to go to Ren Chai, my favorite Chinese place in Amman. This is a swell-egant place and I had been there just once before but very excited to go again. We arrived at 2:30 (lunch is late on Fridays here!) and didn’t leave until almost 6 PM! The guys were so excited for the lunch and we had the best time. They even came with birthday presents!
Then on Monday this week Randa’s advisory group said they wanted to take me out! Maybe to rival my advisory group! So Randa organized the group and we went in between soccer practice and evening study hall. I had only taught one of the group, Hussein, but it was a delightful chance to go to Haret Jdoudna, my favorite place in Madaba, and have a nice 90-minute meal with a group of tip-top students.
Thursday—about 9 days after the actual birthday—some cards arrived by mail. My family and the Ungers in Dobbs Ferry never forget, but of course, the mail coming here is as lazy as it wants to be. In an age when everything can happen by email, it is invigorating to get a real card in the mail. My sister’s card is about how much fun I am to be a kid with, and the Ungers’ cards are always about the ideal happy life. How kind they are to remember, and how much richer they have made my life since I met them in 2000.
So today was kind of the closing of Birthday 2011—Lubna and I planned to go to the Dead Sea. Lubna is the friend at KA who is a secretary for the Office of Student Life and I am exactly two weeks older than she. Last year I realized the best gift I could give her was a treat for a massage at the Dead Sea. So we made plans to go again this year. Lubna also wanted to treat me to lunch at the Dead Sea and surprised me with a shirt and tie as well. So here we are—two late 40-somethings—giggling over an Italian lunch overlooking the Dead Sea enjoying talking about family, and surprises, and struggles, and joys and pains. When the check came Lubna quickly snatched it and smiled broadly. After that we walked around the lovely pool area over to the Spa for our birthday massages. This was the way to spend a birthday!
Going to the Dead Sea is always therapeutic. The drive down is stunning, and now with 51 months of trips to the Dead Sea under my belt, a great chance to look in the rearview mirror of the KA experience and think about what has transpired here. You drive down the windy road that takes you from Mt. Nebo, where they say Moses died, and you head down past the multi-colored shades of brown to the oooo-la-la resorts, and finally let go of the angst of the real world. As I ascend the mountain at the end of the day, I am a rested soul.
So back from the Dead Sea, back from the birthday angst of 2011, and I decide my last treat for this year’s birthday is to watch the final episode of Friday Night Lights. On my schedule I planned to write a college recommendation, but that can wait until Saturday morning. I need to enjoy that mellow feeling and watch the last episode ever of one of my favorite TV shows of all time.
Sometime if someone learns I like that show they are incredulous…I hear, “But it’s about football?!” I guess these aren’t the people who would know you enough to ask you out for your birthday! Gary gave me the book Friday Night Lights around 1999, and I have been in love with the tale of the small Texas town ever since. It is about making your way through high school, struggling to define who you are and what is truth, it is about relationships and passions, and it is about aiming high and maintaining integrity. Actually watching the final show, watching the team and the characters I have loved—it was the perfect way to close out the birthday chapter for this year.
There is one piece of Mohammad Attar’s rich dark chocolate cake left in the refrigerator…um, yeah, I think it is time to finish the birthday leftovers!
On a final note, October is a terrible month to try and maintain blogisodes current. October is the month when we write student comments, but I also have to proofread about 500 other comments, and it is college recommendation season. I have about 30 recs to write. I have started though! I have done three of them, aim for three more tomorrow, but…that is why there aren’t many blogisodes these days. Stay tuned, I will return.
Ten days ago it was my birthday.
I’m not sure if that is especially blog-worthy, but as I looked back over the last four years of blogs, I do mention it every year. Gosh all-mighty! In 2009 I wrote, “Oh, I am glad October 4th and 5th are over. My birthday is October 4th, and frankly, I’m just glad the pressure that something might happen is over, and then the questions about my birthday are over. It was just a non-event, that’s all.
Don’t worry about me—I am not some sad clown crying in the corner acting any more needy than usual. It’s just an interesting thing, the birthday thing, to figure out and reflect upon, but rest assured I am not one of those middle-aged (gasp! when did that happen??) Bah- humbug-haters-of-birthdays. Actually I love the whole birthday thing. It’s just that this year, it was a non-starter.”
In 2007, I was brand-new and dear Elizabeth Berger organized an outing on October 4th—and that was at the time at KA when outings were few. No faculty had cars yet and we had to rely on shuttle buses or taxis to take us anywhere. I remember the excitement of going out then (and no one knew where to go either!) like it was when you were 14 and you went out without your parents…exciting indeed. In 2008 my dad came to Jordan and was here over my birthday. You know the best thing about that birthday was exactly what I don’t like about my birthday anymore—when my dad was here there was no wondering if I would go out. How funny is it that—in the absence of a spouse or partner—you wonder if anyone will ask you out. Any other day of the year, it is no bother at all.
In 2010 old friend Gary and new friends took me out—and Gary is wise enough not to wait to make plans. As another bachelor with the “plus one” status perpetually added to invitations, he understands you just want to know you have a plan.
So as the birthday rolls around, one wonders—who might want to take me out??? It’s okay to laugh at that sentence—I just did after I typed it. It reminds me, in a strange way of the Seinfeld episode where Jerry is appalled that Keith Hernandez would ask for help moving. Jerry reflects, well, comes close to reflection, I don’t know if any of those characters actually reflected much. Jerry thinks about what level, what class, of friendship you must be to ask someone to help you move. Those aren’t the regular friends—no!! It is that special bond of friendship. That’s the birthday thing. One might have many friends, but only a certain level, or class, of friendship is the take-you-out-on-your-birthday, or organize-the-birthday-dinner mate.
So how was birthday #5 in Jordan? Well, my students were tickled at the whole thing. Now remember, students get excited in part because they hope you won’t have class on your birthday, and so everybody wins! I don’t do that. But some of my advisees had told many people so as I walked around all day, many students wished me a happy birthday. At lunch my advisees tried to figure out a way to skip sports practice that afternoon and take me out. I advised them that we would all get in trouble! But they wanted to go out. The only problem is that I had choir practice at 7:00 and needed to be back before that, and since many of my advisees are day students, 8:00 was too late to wait to go out. So that was the end of that.
Mohammad Attar, a student from last year’s AP Art History class, delivered a gorgeous cake, similar to the cake he delivered last year from Sugar Daddy’s in Amman, and, bam, that 20th century class got to have a party for 15 minutes.
As the day progressed, the students were so enthused about a birthday and wished me well. The mail didn’t help out—no mail came, but that is hardly a surprise. So at 7:00 I went to choir practice (have I mentioned this in a blog yet? I don’t think so—I will have to chronicle the progress of the choir in a blog soon) and then went back to my apartment and enjoyed some birthday calls. At 10:30 Tristan came by with flowers and a pecan pie.
Here is where the bachelor status is most noticeable—there just isn’t anyone designated as the One to take you out. Again, here is what I wrote in 2009: “it wasn’t a day for pining, just wanting a little more of something…and then the following day when some people asked, “So, what did you do??” and I tried to change the subject to a less vulnerable topic. So October 4th and 5th ended. Regular life could resume without the pressure and potential letdown of a New Year’s Eve like day.”
This year on October 5th a number of colleagues asked what I had done the night before. I looked non-chalant and replied, “Nothing really. I talked on the phone with some family and friends.” They looked almost upset—see that’s what you want to avoid—and said, “I just assumed so-and-so was taking you out. I’m so sorry.”
That’s exactly what you don’t want at a birthday!! “I’m so sorry.”
So anyway, the days since the birthday are better because that strange pressure is off, and the person you think will ask you out, well, it just recedes into the background. And frankly, I have had some nice offers. Last Friday, the advisees got it together and we went out for a Friday lunch. Friday lunch in Jordan is not some quick affair—this is an all-afternoon event of eating and relaxing and talking and visiting. My advisees planned for us to go to Ren Chai, my favorite Chinese place in Amman. This is a swell-egant place and I had been there just once before but very excited to go again. We arrived at 2:30 (lunch is late on Fridays here!) and didn’t leave until almost 6 PM! The guys were so excited for the lunch and we had the best time. They even came with birthday presents!
Then on Monday this week Randa’s advisory group said they wanted to take me out! Maybe to rival my advisory group! So Randa organized the group and we went in between soccer practice and evening study hall. I had only taught one of the group, Hussein, but it was a delightful chance to go to Haret Jdoudna, my favorite place in Madaba, and have a nice 90-minute meal with a group of tip-top students.
Thursday—about 9 days after the actual birthday—some cards arrived by mail. My family and the Ungers in Dobbs Ferry never forget, but of course, the mail coming here is as lazy as it wants to be. In an age when everything can happen by email, it is invigorating to get a real card in the mail. My sister’s card is about how much fun I am to be a kid with, and the Ungers’ cards are always about the ideal happy life. How kind they are to remember, and how much richer they have made my life since I met them in 2000.
So today was kind of the closing of Birthday 2011—Lubna and I planned to go to the Dead Sea. Lubna is the friend at KA who is a secretary for the Office of Student Life and I am exactly two weeks older than she. Last year I realized the best gift I could give her was a treat for a massage at the Dead Sea. So we made plans to go again this year. Lubna also wanted to treat me to lunch at the Dead Sea and surprised me with a shirt and tie as well. So here we are—two late 40-somethings—giggling over an Italian lunch overlooking the Dead Sea enjoying talking about family, and surprises, and struggles, and joys and pains. When the check came Lubna quickly snatched it and smiled broadly. After that we walked around the lovely pool area over to the Spa for our birthday massages. This was the way to spend a birthday!
Going to the Dead Sea is always therapeutic. The drive down is stunning, and now with 51 months of trips to the Dead Sea under my belt, a great chance to look in the rearview mirror of the KA experience and think about what has transpired here. You drive down the windy road that takes you from Mt. Nebo, where they say Moses died, and you head down past the multi-colored shades of brown to the oooo-la-la resorts, and finally let go of the angst of the real world. As I ascend the mountain at the end of the day, I am a rested soul.
So back from the Dead Sea, back from the birthday angst of 2011, and I decide my last treat for this year’s birthday is to watch the final episode of Friday Night Lights. On my schedule I planned to write a college recommendation, but that can wait until Saturday morning. I need to enjoy that mellow feeling and watch the last episode ever of one of my favorite TV shows of all time.
Sometime if someone learns I like that show they are incredulous…I hear, “But it’s about football?!” I guess these aren’t the people who would know you enough to ask you out for your birthday! Gary gave me the book Friday Night Lights around 1999, and I have been in love with the tale of the small Texas town ever since. It is about making your way through high school, struggling to define who you are and what is truth, it is about relationships and passions, and it is about aiming high and maintaining integrity. Actually watching the final show, watching the team and the characters I have loved—it was the perfect way to close out the birthday chapter for this year.
There is one piece of Mohammad Attar’s rich dark chocolate cake left in the refrigerator…um, yeah, I think it is time to finish the birthday leftovers!
On a final note, October is a terrible month to try and maintain blogisodes current. October is the month when we write student comments, but I also have to proofread about 500 other comments, and it is college recommendation season. I have about 30 recs to write. I have started though! I have done three of them, aim for three more tomorrow, but…that is why there aren’t many blogisodes these days. Stay tuned, I will return.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
A Panel Of Experts
Last Sunday we had our first of five Sundays in the school year that we call “short days.” From the get-go you need to know that these are not short days for the faculty, but short days for the students. Classes begin at 12:30 and are shortened classes a bit and the class part of the day ends, oh I guess at 4:30 before they go off to co-curriculars. For the faculty we spend the morning in professional development activities. We joke and call these “Long Short Days,” or “Short Days for the Students,” or “Anything But Short Days.” One of the new facets of my new responsibility at KA is that I am in charge of planning and executing these professional development days. For this first one Mary Tadros, long-time consultant at the school, was scheduled to conduct a workshop on planning inter-disciplinary units. I also made sure to have a component on educational technology workshops. But my favorite part of the day was a panel I created of six teachers so that they could just talk to the faculty and start our day off.
I love teachers. For all of you, this should come as no surprise. I love what teachers do and I love when teachers wax eloquently about our profession.
I wanted a panel of three veteran teachers to share insights they had gleaned in their respective long careers about the secrets to success in education. I paired three veteran teachers with our three youngest teachers, fresh from college, at the beginning of what may be a teacher career. While the newbies did not have experience prior to the month of September, 2011, I wanted to showcase their expertise as college students and ask them to share what we need to make sure we do for our students in preparation for the KA students’ college experience. They are a resource as well!
In light of the whole morning—a little over three hours—it was only 30 minutes, but still my favorite part, just to get train a spotlight on these six teachers and celebrate their insights and expertise.
The first to speak was Majid, the oldest of our faculty at KA. He has been teaching for 45 years and always has a twinkle in his eye. He spoke in Arabic—he apologized to me for that, and I had no problem with him speaking in the most comfortable language for him—and he began by saying, “I love the work we do.” As Lilli translated for him, he clearly enjoyed reminding everyone that the secret to his success is that he treats them “as grandchildren.” He spoke about his classroom that he wants “to give each student an opportunity to speak and to feel important.” In terms of his classroom management he said, “good eye contact is important. That eye contact makes them feel respected. My job is to engage them and to be firm with them.” As he spoke for his several minutes, he ended with another reminder, “Never forget that we can always learn from our students. I am always learning from them.”
The next in the panel is another veteran from the first year of the school as well, the venerable Tessa. Before coming to KA she had run a girl’s school in Capetown, South Africa, and is, like Majid, an iconic presence on our campus. Tessa began by turning to her right towards the three young teachers and said, “I envy you new teachers. I envy you the chance to do all of this. Every minute is new.” As she reflected on her 40-plus year career in education she said, “It has been more treasurable than I ever expected.” She said her advice was not all that earth-shattering, but simple: “Respect other people and you will be respected. Make sure you get to know the children—know them properly. Know what they knew yesterday. You have the chance to build them, to build fine young people. Tessa is famous for taking faculty on side trips to archaeological digs and anywhere someone needs to go to learn, and reading all the time. But she admonished us, “Make sure what you teach them is relevant for them in Jordan. Relate Huck Finn to them as Jordanians.” She ended her comments with an interesting, “And if you want to see the most spectacular teaching of all, go watch the good teachers of 3 year olds. They will teach you everything you need to know.”
Our last speaker of the veteran side is a new teacher to KA named Mark. I interviewed him last February in Boston and was astonished by his excitement for teaching and what all he had done in his decades of work. Mark began saying, “I am supposed to offer you some pearls of wisdom about teaching. Well, as a science teacher, let me remind you that pearls evolve. Teachers evolve. Pearls never quite get finished entirely. Teachers never quite get finished evolving entirely. Both keep adding and removing layers.” Mark continued to refine his pearl metaphor about how he was as a new teacher and that that “inside pearl” has changed dramatically. I especially liked when he compared pearls and teachers again saying, “And just like the pearl, I didn’t do it all myself.” From there he exhorted his new colleagues that “we must enrich each other. We are all our own pearls and I can learn so much from all the other different pearls.”
Each of the three earned applause—no surprise at all—for the respect they have cultivated as well as the excellent insights about education. It was wonderful when we moved from the three seasoned teachers to the three new ones. They more than held their own. They commanded the panel and spoke with ease and conviction about what they learned about college, about the demands of college, and how one can successfully manage the college years.
John from Yale spoke first. He spoke emphatically: “More than anything, students must be able to write well in college. Besides that important task, students need to know how to deal with failure.” He stated his two choices, explained the importance of them, and spoke excellently about how we rarely allow students to fail in prep school and help them bounce back from failure. He spoke about writing, and not just in the Humanities, but lab reports, and in every class he took at Yale. Thanks, John—I probably couldn’t have picked two more important topics for us to ponder.
But Melissa from Davidson added to John’s list explaining that college-level expectations are far beyond most high school expectations. “I would say the most important things students can learn to do is #1 learn how to think independently and then #2 learn to advocate for themselves and #3 learn how to question things.” Melissa explained beautifully how these things are at the core of the college experience and asked us to consider how we are preparing our high schoolers for such expectations.
Lastly, Katie from Brown smiled and said, “I learned the hard way that time management issues are crucial” and she was shocked in college how “hard and fast the rules are.” She asserted that we must help coach them to work on time management skills and help them set clear expectations for themselves. She concluded that she also hopes students know that the close rapport they may wish with professors in college comes from their own assertions and wishes.
Frankly, I could listen to teachers all day—not the whining part one occasionally hears in a faculty lounge, which I usually just tune out if it is the drab, dreary kind. But I love to listen to what teachers hope for their students, what life-giving force the classroom gives to teachers, and how they would rather not be anywhere else on earth.
Excellent panel. A Wonderful 30 minutes.
So I am an expert after having been on this job for six weeks?
Some things have gone well, but oh, I have learned a number of things that I hope will smooth the future roads for me. I have learned that most questions from faculty are not “innocent,” i.e. when I am asked an opinion, it may be more about soliciting my support for an agenda or a “side” in a battle. And be careful of those opinions and sides. I am not just another teacher now, but my name can be used in a way I may not like. I must also ask, “Did I ask enough questions to get enough of the story to understand a sore point?” Am I seen as intervening on someone else’s territory?
None of these has been tragedies, but I stop and say, “Hmmm…this pearl can continue to evolve as I understand the hazards of my administrative job.”
But all around me are experts, from the inspiring headmaster to the indefatigable Jules to my colleagues from Majid all the way down to those newbies. And by the way, people look at those newbies differently now. They are not just babes in the educational wilderness. They are savvy young educators with talent and vigor and are gonna make gorgeous pearls.
I love teachers. For all of you, this should come as no surprise. I love what teachers do and I love when teachers wax eloquently about our profession.
I wanted a panel of three veteran teachers to share insights they had gleaned in their respective long careers about the secrets to success in education. I paired three veteran teachers with our three youngest teachers, fresh from college, at the beginning of what may be a teacher career. While the newbies did not have experience prior to the month of September, 2011, I wanted to showcase their expertise as college students and ask them to share what we need to make sure we do for our students in preparation for the KA students’ college experience. They are a resource as well!
In light of the whole morning—a little over three hours—it was only 30 minutes, but still my favorite part, just to get train a spotlight on these six teachers and celebrate their insights and expertise.
The first to speak was Majid, the oldest of our faculty at KA. He has been teaching for 45 years and always has a twinkle in his eye. He spoke in Arabic—he apologized to me for that, and I had no problem with him speaking in the most comfortable language for him—and he began by saying, “I love the work we do.” As Lilli translated for him, he clearly enjoyed reminding everyone that the secret to his success is that he treats them “as grandchildren.” He spoke about his classroom that he wants “to give each student an opportunity to speak and to feel important.” In terms of his classroom management he said, “good eye contact is important. That eye contact makes them feel respected. My job is to engage them and to be firm with them.” As he spoke for his several minutes, he ended with another reminder, “Never forget that we can always learn from our students. I am always learning from them.”
The next in the panel is another veteran from the first year of the school as well, the venerable Tessa. Before coming to KA she had run a girl’s school in Capetown, South Africa, and is, like Majid, an iconic presence on our campus. Tessa began by turning to her right towards the three young teachers and said, “I envy you new teachers. I envy you the chance to do all of this. Every minute is new.” As she reflected on her 40-plus year career in education she said, “It has been more treasurable than I ever expected.” She said her advice was not all that earth-shattering, but simple: “Respect other people and you will be respected. Make sure you get to know the children—know them properly. Know what they knew yesterday. You have the chance to build them, to build fine young people. Tessa is famous for taking faculty on side trips to archaeological digs and anywhere someone needs to go to learn, and reading all the time. But she admonished us, “Make sure what you teach them is relevant for them in Jordan. Relate Huck Finn to them as Jordanians.” She ended her comments with an interesting, “And if you want to see the most spectacular teaching of all, go watch the good teachers of 3 year olds. They will teach you everything you need to know.”
Our last speaker of the veteran side is a new teacher to KA named Mark. I interviewed him last February in Boston and was astonished by his excitement for teaching and what all he had done in his decades of work. Mark began saying, “I am supposed to offer you some pearls of wisdom about teaching. Well, as a science teacher, let me remind you that pearls evolve. Teachers evolve. Pearls never quite get finished entirely. Teachers never quite get finished evolving entirely. Both keep adding and removing layers.” Mark continued to refine his pearl metaphor about how he was as a new teacher and that that “inside pearl” has changed dramatically. I especially liked when he compared pearls and teachers again saying, “And just like the pearl, I didn’t do it all myself.” From there he exhorted his new colleagues that “we must enrich each other. We are all our own pearls and I can learn so much from all the other different pearls.”
Each of the three earned applause—no surprise at all—for the respect they have cultivated as well as the excellent insights about education. It was wonderful when we moved from the three seasoned teachers to the three new ones. They more than held their own. They commanded the panel and spoke with ease and conviction about what they learned about college, about the demands of college, and how one can successfully manage the college years.
John from Yale spoke first. He spoke emphatically: “More than anything, students must be able to write well in college. Besides that important task, students need to know how to deal with failure.” He stated his two choices, explained the importance of them, and spoke excellently about how we rarely allow students to fail in prep school and help them bounce back from failure. He spoke about writing, and not just in the Humanities, but lab reports, and in every class he took at Yale. Thanks, John—I probably couldn’t have picked two more important topics for us to ponder.
But Melissa from Davidson added to John’s list explaining that college-level expectations are far beyond most high school expectations. “I would say the most important things students can learn to do is #1 learn how to think independently and then #2 learn to advocate for themselves and #3 learn how to question things.” Melissa explained beautifully how these things are at the core of the college experience and asked us to consider how we are preparing our high schoolers for such expectations.
Lastly, Katie from Brown smiled and said, “I learned the hard way that time management issues are crucial” and she was shocked in college how “hard and fast the rules are.” She asserted that we must help coach them to work on time management skills and help them set clear expectations for themselves. She concluded that she also hopes students know that the close rapport they may wish with professors in college comes from their own assertions and wishes.
Frankly, I could listen to teachers all day—not the whining part one occasionally hears in a faculty lounge, which I usually just tune out if it is the drab, dreary kind. But I love to listen to what teachers hope for their students, what life-giving force the classroom gives to teachers, and how they would rather not be anywhere else on earth.
Excellent panel. A Wonderful 30 minutes.
So I am an expert after having been on this job for six weeks?
Some things have gone well, but oh, I have learned a number of things that I hope will smooth the future roads for me. I have learned that most questions from faculty are not “innocent,” i.e. when I am asked an opinion, it may be more about soliciting my support for an agenda or a “side” in a battle. And be careful of those opinions and sides. I am not just another teacher now, but my name can be used in a way I may not like. I must also ask, “Did I ask enough questions to get enough of the story to understand a sore point?” Am I seen as intervening on someone else’s territory?
None of these has been tragedies, but I stop and say, “Hmmm…this pearl can continue to evolve as I understand the hazards of my administrative job.”
But all around me are experts, from the inspiring headmaster to the indefatigable Jules to my colleagues from Majid all the way down to those newbies. And by the way, people look at those newbies differently now. They are not just babes in the educational wilderness. They are savvy young educators with talent and vigor and are gonna make gorgeous pearls.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Ridiculous!
When you live in the Bible Lands (and no, I don’t mean the Bible Belt—I did that 20 years ago!) or rather, the Holy Land, it is not surprising that biblical phrases rattle around in your head a little more than, say, when I live in the mid-west.
So in this last week—where a class of mine misbehaved, and the world watched Mahmoud Abbas address the United Nations—I had a strange commandment from the apostle Paul rattling around in my head. “You owe no one anything … except to love them.” That is pretty good, actually. Let’s repeat it—“You owe no one anything … except to love them.” Can I get an Amen?
It has been a pretty long time since a class of mine misbehaved. Frankly, they kind of know what they are in for when they sign up for AP Art History. But last Thursday, the last class of the school week, it was hot in my classroom (now there is nothing abnormal about how hot it is…) and they just weren’t terribly interested in the art of ancient China. Pity—it really is great and moving art. But several times I asked them calmly to pay better attention—you know you can always level them with, “We have a test coming up and you need to be prepared for this!” But they weren’t having any of that last Thursday. So about 10 minutes before the end of class, I pulled the plug on the laptop, quietly said, “I’m done. You may go.” And I proceeded to unplug the powerpoint projector and clean up. They were all of a sudden totally silent. As I reached the door, I turned and said, “You may go. I’m finished for the day.” And I left the class early. I think I may have done that three times ever in 23 years of teaching!
When I returned to my apartment after visiting Lubna in the gym after the disappointing class, I found a note under my door. I don’t know if it was the work of one student or more (it was signed from “D-Block”) but it was a genuine apology note. It was well-written and very thoughtful. The writer said, “We are all ashamed of ourselves for what we have done. You treat us like adults and today we abused it. We honestly know what we have done is wrong and we will not do it again. You deserve the best and utmost respect. You inspire us with your art and we cannot explain how sorry we are. Again we owe you our sincerest apologies.” Wow. The note blew me away.
Over the next day or so I watched a number of news sources, from Arabic news to BBC to CNN to ABC, all comparing the coverage of the Abbas speech and the impending vote in the UN on the status of Palestine. I am interested for a number of reasons—first of all I live here, and the recognition could not be more important for these Palestinian friends of mine. It reminds me of how important it was to Germany and Austria when I lived there in 1985 when Ronald Reagan visited there and “forgave” them (kind of, but at least diplomatically) for World War II. I also teach offspring of two of the speakers this week, the son of the King of Jordan, and the grand-daughter of Mahmoud Abbas. It is also important to me since this is a subject of which I used to know almost nothing until I moved here.
But back to Paul—I kept having that commandment rattle around in my head. Paul, the man who spouts more rules in his writings than anyone else, the one obsessed with right conduct and right living, here tells the Romans and you and me that all of those rules and guidelines about how we are to live with one another really all boil down to love. Love fulfills all of the law in regards to one another, Paul says. Love is the only thing we owe one another. It is the thing we are called upon to extend to family, friend, neighbor, stranger, teacher, student, ally and enemy alike.
We think we know about love, and yet, I wonder how often we think deeply about or explore it closely. Exactly what love is. In the midst of the brokenness of this world, where pain, suffering, injustice and scandal seem to be the norm, we somehow seem to still trust that we know what love is, what it means and how to give and receive it.
Julian Barnes wrote a stunning book entitled A History of the World in 10 ½ Chapters. Each of the 10 Chapters covers the reality of life and its consequences—how trouble seems to be intertwined with living. Now the witty, sarcastic, dry and hilarious Barnes may be among the last people I can imagine grabbing a burger with Paul, but what he says about love, though, is something I think Paul would raise a glass to.
It is in that half of a chapter, named “Parenthesis,” stuck between chapters 8 and 9 that Barnes writes about the single most important thing in the history of world. He says that human history is and I quote Barnes “ridiculous without it.” That one thing of course is love. Barnes writes that love is essential precisely because it is unnecessary. He says that love does not guarantee that either you or the object of your love will be happy—love in no way makes everything alright. Barnes reminds us that we can build damns like the beaver without love, we can organize complex societies like the bee without love, we can travel long distances like the albatross without love, we can put our head in the sand like the ostrich without love, and, if we are not careful, we can even die out as a species like the dodo did without love. Love is not necessary, but it is essential. Without love, the world, Barnes claims, becomes brutally self important.
Barnes argues you cannot love someone without imaginative sympathy. You cannot love someone without beginning to see the world from another point of view. It is love, Barnes writes, that “moves us beyond ourselves.” Without love the history of the world is ridiculous. And the future … well it is meaningless … a long slide into self absorption and decay.
Love is essential according to both Barnes and Paul because love is generative. Paul grabs our attention and focuses it directly on right living. But rather than talking about all the thou shalt nots, Paul turns our focus and imagination toward the generative power of love. Because Paul knows love is a power that can never, ever be content with status quo. Love is a force that builds upon itself and one that binds us together. Hmmmm…
It is interesting to live a life of faith here at the contested crossroads of our world and to try and engage in service and justice making. I am privileged to be part of a “taskforce” that has been charged to wrestle with how we may live our way into that kind of life. This taskforce, or rather, this school, has been charged to get this community not just to think about, but to get involved directly with acts of kindness, justice, compassion, service and learning.
His Majesty created this school as a place to be synonymous with mercy and with justice. Yet mercy without love descends into pity. And justice without love? Well, the great Reinhold Neibhur said this, “Any justice which is only justice soon disintegrates into something less than justice.” As I look at the world, I believe we need that passage from Paul to be engraved on our hearts, for we are called not just to serve the world but to engage in love making with our world. We owe the people of the world nothing … except to love them.
Without love even the greatest of actions we might conceive of would be nothing more than clanging gongs or noisy cymbals … they would be ridiculous! But bathed in love the work we are being called to undertake becomes ways of co-loving this world with God. Bathed in love they not only affirm that all human beings are already God’s beloved, they suggest that each of us is a being capable of as yet unimagined possibilities. Each of us is God’s love song waiting to be sung. Service without love is meaningless ... Justice without love is ridiculous.
If we do our work at the crossroads right, we cannot love the world without encountering it and seeing this place and our world and ourselves through a whole new set of eyes. As we look at the differences of the people we encounter through the eyes of love we will end up seeing our own differences through their own eyes. As we love their differences we will have the chance to love our own. And when, through love, we see the unimagined possibilities that God has placed within them, we will have the chance through their eyes to see our own unrealized and unrecognized potential in ways we never could on our own. The truth is we could never be who God has dreamed we might be unless we love others and gain the eyes to see who we might be. So if we are to engage in love making with the world, we will miraculously discover that we will end up saying the exact same thing to those we meet at the crossroads, “You make such a difference in my life that I would not be the same person with you.” Bathed in love, our actions of service and justice will tether us to our brothers and sisters in ways that unleash God’s design for our lives. That is the first miracle of love making.
The second miracle is this—if we truly love the world we will not just give love away—we will create it. As human beings are loved, we have a natural tendency to return love to those who love us. It is a great gift of our creator, it is a tendency hard wired into who we are. Sure, people can and do refuse to return love. Each of us bears the scars to prove it. But that refusal goes against our very created natures as God’s beloved. When we infuse justice with love we cannot help but to foster it in those who we love. Love is a generative thing. We owe the world nothing but to love them.
In the end, Paul says it all comes down to love and Julian Barnes would certainly raise a glass to that notion. Barnes concludes his half of a chapter, that one stuck between chapters 8 and 9, with this observation: “How you cuddle in the dark, governs how you see the history of the world.” How you embrace love in the quiet and stillness of the night affects how you live into the morning.
There will be a vote in the UN as to whether or not there is a new dawn for the Palestinians. But either way the vote goes, I will crawl out of bed tomorrow and face the world in all its beauty and all its pain. Remember: Owe no one anything … except to love one another because love fulfills the law, love brings us closer to God’s dream for us, and without love, the whole world and anything we might do, even in the name of God would be ridiculous. Can I get an Amen?
Monday, September 19, 2011
Hip, Hip Bourrage!
Not very often does one person earn an entire blog entry…but not everyone is like my friend Tracy. Today is Tracy’s birthday and it seemed fitting to muse about and celebrate this friend who has been a part of my world since I was but an 18 year old in Granville, Ohio!
Two years ago Tracy’s birthday fell during one of the celebrated Denison Singers’ reunions. At the stroke of midnight on September 19th we sang to her and at 11:59 at the end of the 19th of September, we sang to her one last time for that birthday. She thought it was her best birthday ever. The company was good!
Tracy was a senior when I was a freshman at Denison and ever since my induction in the Denison Singers I have loved knowing her. We enjoyed the legendary Europe trip that January singing in churches and cathedrals throughout Germany, Austria, Italy and Switzerland. It was an exhilarating year. Tracy teaches music to young children in an Ohio public school now, and while there was a stretch of maybe 12 years that we were out of touch, for the last decade her friendship and counsel have been among the loveliest I have known.
What is it about this friend? It is always an interesting challenge to decipher the magic of a relationship and point your finger at the source of the love and admiration. Other friends may have their own list of what they most treasure in Tracy, but for me, it is all about a French word, oooo lala—bourrage.
This summer I had a conversation with a friend of mine named Nancy who lives in New York. Nancy had just come back from one of the most unusual trips I have ever heard of—she and her 18 year old daughter went to the south of France to be part of a team to restore a medieval town wall. I had never heard of such a trip—such a quest, but as she explained the importance of the job of wall-building, the care and thoughtfulness in building a wall in the manner done a thousand years ago became fascinating to me. Nancy explained that it is not as simple as throwing big stones together in a big pile. Nancy, ever the interesting wordsmith, explained that the most care had to be done in the part of the wall called “bourrage” in French. The bourrage is the part of the wall that holds everything together, and if the wall does not have the proper or supportive bourrage, the wall collapses. The big, fancy rocks just don’t do the main job—it all depends on the bourrage.
So that idea of the bourrage is exactly what Tracy represents. She acts, nay, embodies, bourrage in every facet of her life. As I came to know her initially in the Denison Singers in the 1980s I quickly realized how important she was at being the bedrock of her senior class. I have long called her the “Earth Mother” of the Singers, the person who made my freshman class aware of the importance and seriousness of the Singers, but the word bourrage fits even more—the glue that cohered the group as I came to know this meaningful group.
As I have come to know Tracy as an adult, or a post-college adult, in the 21st century, I have come to see that she is the bourrage of her family, of her faculty—as far as I can tell, she embodies the significance and potential of what that term bourrage must do. Tracy holds people together, families together, groups together. She is not a showy “big rock”—that is not her style. But if anyone looks closely at a relationship, at a group, at an institution, she is the lynchpin, the cornerstone, the necessary bourrage that ensures that the structure exists neatly, formally, and with strength and dignity.
I would never have given a medieval wall much thought if Nancy had not exhorted to me how much she enjoyed her trip and her back-breaking work to recreate the work ethic and success of a medieval wall-maker. Nancy’s unusual trip inspired me to realize how much like the elegant, timeless, seemingly effortless medieval wall my friend Tracy is. People rely on her to define boundaries, set a tone, and symbolize strength like the medieval wall.
Many happy birthday greetings to Tracy, that beautiful bourrage!
Two years ago Tracy’s birthday fell during one of the celebrated Denison Singers’ reunions. At the stroke of midnight on September 19th we sang to her and at 11:59 at the end of the 19th of September, we sang to her one last time for that birthday. She thought it was her best birthday ever. The company was good!
Tracy was a senior when I was a freshman at Denison and ever since my induction in the Denison Singers I have loved knowing her. We enjoyed the legendary Europe trip that January singing in churches and cathedrals throughout Germany, Austria, Italy and Switzerland. It was an exhilarating year. Tracy teaches music to young children in an Ohio public school now, and while there was a stretch of maybe 12 years that we were out of touch, for the last decade her friendship and counsel have been among the loveliest I have known.
What is it about this friend? It is always an interesting challenge to decipher the magic of a relationship and point your finger at the source of the love and admiration. Other friends may have their own list of what they most treasure in Tracy, but for me, it is all about a French word, oooo lala—bourrage.
This summer I had a conversation with a friend of mine named Nancy who lives in New York. Nancy had just come back from one of the most unusual trips I have ever heard of—she and her 18 year old daughter went to the south of France to be part of a team to restore a medieval town wall. I had never heard of such a trip—such a quest, but as she explained the importance of the job of wall-building, the care and thoughtfulness in building a wall in the manner done a thousand years ago became fascinating to me. Nancy explained that it is not as simple as throwing big stones together in a big pile. Nancy, ever the interesting wordsmith, explained that the most care had to be done in the part of the wall called “bourrage” in French. The bourrage is the part of the wall that holds everything together, and if the wall does not have the proper or supportive bourrage, the wall collapses. The big, fancy rocks just don’t do the main job—it all depends on the bourrage.
So that idea of the bourrage is exactly what Tracy represents. She acts, nay, embodies, bourrage in every facet of her life. As I came to know her initially in the Denison Singers in the 1980s I quickly realized how important she was at being the bedrock of her senior class. I have long called her the “Earth Mother” of the Singers, the person who made my freshman class aware of the importance and seriousness of the Singers, but the word bourrage fits even more—the glue that cohered the group as I came to know this meaningful group.
As I have come to know Tracy as an adult, or a post-college adult, in the 21st century, I have come to see that she is the bourrage of her family, of her faculty—as far as I can tell, she embodies the significance and potential of what that term bourrage must do. Tracy holds people together, families together, groups together. She is not a showy “big rock”—that is not her style. But if anyone looks closely at a relationship, at a group, at an institution, she is the lynchpin, the cornerstone, the necessary bourrage that ensures that the structure exists neatly, formally, and with strength and dignity.
I would never have given a medieval wall much thought if Nancy had not exhorted to me how much she enjoyed her trip and her back-breaking work to recreate the work ethic and success of a medieval wall-maker. Nancy’s unusual trip inspired me to realize how much like the elegant, timeless, seemingly effortless medieval wall my friend Tracy is. People rely on her to define boundaries, set a tone, and symbolize strength like the medieval wall.
Many happy birthday greetings to Tracy, that beautiful bourrage!
Saturday, September 17, 2011
New Guys In Town
This last week I inaugurated our weekly professional development seminar with a poem I found by John Steinbeck. What better way to introduce a year designed to heighten and/or deepen teacher effectiveness than with these lines. Savor this poem from the 1930s:
Captured Fireflies
In her classroom our speculations ranged the world;
she aroused us to book waving discussions.
Every morning we came to her carrying new truths, new facts,
new ideas cupped and sheltered in our hands like captured fireflies.
When she went away a sadness did not go out.
She left her signature upon us.
The literature of the teacher who writes on children's minds.
I've had many teachers who taught us soon forgotten things,
but only a few like her who created in me a new thing, a new attitude, a new hunger.
I suppose that to a large extent I am the unsigned manuscript of that teacher.
What deathless power lies in the hands of such a person.
---by John Steinbeck
I mean—it is profound what a great teacher can do…and look at two lines especially, lines 7 and 8, and right there is the fork in the road for teachers: Steinbeck speaks of the “many” who “taught us soon forgotten things,” but oh, that important, and sadly, too “few” who created that “new hunger.” Oh my—doesn’t that just inspire you to new heights to try and be one of the “few”???
Well, one of the great features of a new school year, of course, is the introduction of new people. There are new students, new faculty, and you wonder every year from that grand parade who will be some of the great ones you will come to know and admire. I want to introduce you to two new guys, and I have a feeling they will be starring in the line-up of great ones.
There is John, a fresh-from-college-brand-new-teacher-from-Yale, who is teaching Chemistry. When I interviewed John last February at the job fair in Boston, I sensed that he had the goods to be a great one. When you interview college seniors, it is a little difficult to tell which ones might emerge as great teachers since they have had little or no experience teaching. But with John I liked him especially for his devotion to technical theater. I realize that hanging lights and enduring theatrical “hell week”[s] may not mean you understand chemistry, or any other discipline for that matter, but as I talked with this guy, I could tell from his theater work that he had dedication and stamina and grit, three things that mean oh so much in the educational world.
I took John out to Chili Ways after the second day of school, and, well, first of all, he liked my fast food of choice in Madaba. But the real pleasure of the evening was the privilege of hearing him talk about those first hours in the classroom. He had had to ask a young man to leave class and speak sternly to him in the hallway. He said that when they both came back in, he could tell it wasn’t going to cast a pall on the classroom. He had dealt with his first issue of classroom management. Then his mood changed, his eyes got misty as he spoke of the first lab, that introduction to chemistry and when he saw the power in a students’ eyes as the student understood a chemical principle. Watching John explain that wonderful moment, and hearing him realize the power and obligation he had as a teacher, was a genuine thrill. John observes other teachers’ classes, asks questions, wonders about grading and even keeps a journal about how a class goes (Why was a good class good? What might improve a class?). He is excited by the teaching and I look forward to what he all he will add to KA.
The other new guy I wanted to make sure you knew was a young man from China named Li. Li was actually the first new student I met this school year—he arrived a day before the others, and I met him at lunch and was struck by his friendliness. We talked about my 2001 trip to China and I learned that he came here with two other Chinese students, but they had not met before the plane ride. I marveled at how far he had come and his enthusiasm for Jordan is infectious. What a brave soul to come all this way for school. He has ended up in my AP Art History class, as well.
Last Sunday I was quite moved and impressed by a speech Li asked to give to the whole school. Julianne told me he asked her to give this speech, yet was nervous since this was the first speech he had ever given in English (!). I asked Li if I could print his speech and offer it to the world in my blog. Here is Li’s speech to the KA throngs:
Yesterday was a very traditional Chinese festival called “Teacher’s Day.”
In China, teachers are held in high esteem. This day is in honor of all those involved in the teaching profession.
September 28th is the birthday of Confucius who was a great philosopher and a world-famous teacher. In the history of Chinese education, Confucius is a paragon of all teachers, symbolizing the philosophy of “Educate all without discrimination, and teach according to the abilities of ones students.” Using the six arts of rites, music, archery, chariot driving, learning, and mathematics, Confucius had more than three thousand students during his lifetime.
In the ancient times, Confucius’s birthday was regarded as a Teachers’ Day.
Now In the People's Republic of China, Teacher's Day is held on September 10th each year. This year is the 27th annual festival.
On this day, there are some activities for the students to show their appreciation to the teachers, such as holding a concert, making a lecture or presenting gifts including cards and flowers. And the Confucius Memorial Service is also solemnly held at the Confucius Temple to show respect and honor for him. “Teachers Day Celebration” will held by the Ministry of Education and the various local governments, teachers are recognized for their contribution to society.
In China, every day when our class begins, we need to stand up and say hello to teachers and when class is over we also need to stand up and say thanks. Why do we do this? That’s because the teacher plays a very important role in our lives. We all know the population of China is very large. The only way for students to achieve their goals or change their destiny is to get the chance to study in university and have a better education. So teachers may help them a lot. They are very kind and do anything they could to help students.
And I think all the teachers here in King’s are really nice and responsible too. They came on campus two weeks earlier than the students to prepare for the new year. They made many activities for the new students to make sure they can adapt to the school life quickly. They gave a warm welcome to all the international students and always asked us whether we needed help which made us feel at home. They try to make every class interesting and enjoyable to ensure that we learn and be happy.
Since yesterday we were in weekend. Today I want say “Happy Teachers’ day” to all the king’s teachers and thanks for your excellent job!
Teachers are engineers of souls, are the people who tell us ways to explore the world, to give us wisdom and knowledge to create our own life.
I think no matter whether or not we have a teacher's day, we all need to be highly respectful and grateful to our teachers every day. To remember all the things they have taught us and appreciate the person who brings us to a new life.
Thank you!
That evening Li performed a musical piece on the flute for our first “open-mic” night. As he started he said, “I am playing a Chinese piece and I want you to think about a Chinese sailor as he brings his boat back home from the sea.” Li proceeded to play the flute with exquisite beauty. I once took the flute just for fun and I know the breath support and the care it takes to produce the quality of tone he offered us. What will he do next?!
In many ways this was a perfect week to think about John and Li. Both of them are excited about teachers and teaching. Thinking about these new guys came in a perfect week: this past week witnessed the birthdays of two of my greatest teachers ever. I have a list of my 5 greatest teachers (do you? I think you should make on and savor those teachers!) and this week saw the birthdays of Nina Wilson and Mary Schneider, two of my icons on my list. I could write on and on and on about the profound effects these two have had on me (search other blog entries if you do not know them) but Li really said it very well—these two educators are “engineers of the soul,” and every day in their classes was like the excitement of “captured fireflies.”
Captured Fireflies
In her classroom our speculations ranged the world;
she aroused us to book waving discussions.
Every morning we came to her carrying new truths, new facts,
new ideas cupped and sheltered in our hands like captured fireflies.
When she went away a sadness did not go out.
She left her signature upon us.
The literature of the teacher who writes on children's minds.
I've had many teachers who taught us soon forgotten things,
but only a few like her who created in me a new thing, a new attitude, a new hunger.
I suppose that to a large extent I am the unsigned manuscript of that teacher.
What deathless power lies in the hands of such a person.
---by John Steinbeck
I mean—it is profound what a great teacher can do…and look at two lines especially, lines 7 and 8, and right there is the fork in the road for teachers: Steinbeck speaks of the “many” who “taught us soon forgotten things,” but oh, that important, and sadly, too “few” who created that “new hunger.” Oh my—doesn’t that just inspire you to new heights to try and be one of the “few”???
Well, one of the great features of a new school year, of course, is the introduction of new people. There are new students, new faculty, and you wonder every year from that grand parade who will be some of the great ones you will come to know and admire. I want to introduce you to two new guys, and I have a feeling they will be starring in the line-up of great ones.
There is John, a fresh-from-college-brand-new-teacher-from-Yale, who is teaching Chemistry. When I interviewed John last February at the job fair in Boston, I sensed that he had the goods to be a great one. When you interview college seniors, it is a little difficult to tell which ones might emerge as great teachers since they have had little or no experience teaching. But with John I liked him especially for his devotion to technical theater. I realize that hanging lights and enduring theatrical “hell week”[s] may not mean you understand chemistry, or any other discipline for that matter, but as I talked with this guy, I could tell from his theater work that he had dedication and stamina and grit, three things that mean oh so much in the educational world.
I took John out to Chili Ways after the second day of school, and, well, first of all, he liked my fast food of choice in Madaba. But the real pleasure of the evening was the privilege of hearing him talk about those first hours in the classroom. He had had to ask a young man to leave class and speak sternly to him in the hallway. He said that when they both came back in, he could tell it wasn’t going to cast a pall on the classroom. He had dealt with his first issue of classroom management. Then his mood changed, his eyes got misty as he spoke of the first lab, that introduction to chemistry and when he saw the power in a students’ eyes as the student understood a chemical principle. Watching John explain that wonderful moment, and hearing him realize the power and obligation he had as a teacher, was a genuine thrill. John observes other teachers’ classes, asks questions, wonders about grading and even keeps a journal about how a class goes (Why was a good class good? What might improve a class?). He is excited by the teaching and I look forward to what he all he will add to KA.
The other new guy I wanted to make sure you knew was a young man from China named Li. Li was actually the first new student I met this school year—he arrived a day before the others, and I met him at lunch and was struck by his friendliness. We talked about my 2001 trip to China and I learned that he came here with two other Chinese students, but they had not met before the plane ride. I marveled at how far he had come and his enthusiasm for Jordan is infectious. What a brave soul to come all this way for school. He has ended up in my AP Art History class, as well.
Last Sunday I was quite moved and impressed by a speech Li asked to give to the whole school. Julianne told me he asked her to give this speech, yet was nervous since this was the first speech he had ever given in English (!). I asked Li if I could print his speech and offer it to the world in my blog. Here is Li’s speech to the KA throngs:
Yesterday was a very traditional Chinese festival called “Teacher’s Day.”
In China, teachers are held in high esteem. This day is in honor of all those involved in the teaching profession.
September 28th is the birthday of Confucius who was a great philosopher and a world-famous teacher. In the history of Chinese education, Confucius is a paragon of all teachers, symbolizing the philosophy of “Educate all without discrimination, and teach according to the abilities of ones students.” Using the six arts of rites, music, archery, chariot driving, learning, and mathematics, Confucius had more than three thousand students during his lifetime.
In the ancient times, Confucius’s birthday was regarded as a Teachers’ Day.
Now In the People's Republic of China, Teacher's Day is held on September 10th each year. This year is the 27th annual festival.
On this day, there are some activities for the students to show their appreciation to the teachers, such as holding a concert, making a lecture or presenting gifts including cards and flowers. And the Confucius Memorial Service is also solemnly held at the Confucius Temple to show respect and honor for him. “Teachers Day Celebration” will held by the Ministry of Education and the various local governments, teachers are recognized for their contribution to society.
In China, every day when our class begins, we need to stand up and say hello to teachers and when class is over we also need to stand up and say thanks. Why do we do this? That’s because the teacher plays a very important role in our lives. We all know the population of China is very large. The only way for students to achieve their goals or change their destiny is to get the chance to study in university and have a better education. So teachers may help them a lot. They are very kind and do anything they could to help students.
And I think all the teachers here in King’s are really nice and responsible too. They came on campus two weeks earlier than the students to prepare for the new year. They made many activities for the new students to make sure they can adapt to the school life quickly. They gave a warm welcome to all the international students and always asked us whether we needed help which made us feel at home. They try to make every class interesting and enjoyable to ensure that we learn and be happy.
Since yesterday we were in weekend. Today I want say “Happy Teachers’ day” to all the king’s teachers and thanks for your excellent job!
Teachers are engineers of souls, are the people who tell us ways to explore the world, to give us wisdom and knowledge to create our own life.
I think no matter whether or not we have a teacher's day, we all need to be highly respectful and grateful to our teachers every day. To remember all the things they have taught us and appreciate the person who brings us to a new life.
Thank you!
That evening Li performed a musical piece on the flute for our first “open-mic” night. As he started he said, “I am playing a Chinese piece and I want you to think about a Chinese sailor as he brings his boat back home from the sea.” Li proceeded to play the flute with exquisite beauty. I once took the flute just for fun and I know the breath support and the care it takes to produce the quality of tone he offered us. What will he do next?!
In many ways this was a perfect week to think about John and Li. Both of them are excited about teachers and teaching. Thinking about these new guys came in a perfect week: this past week witnessed the birthdays of two of my greatest teachers ever. I have a list of my 5 greatest teachers (do you? I think you should make on and savor those teachers!) and this week saw the birthdays of Nina Wilson and Mary Schneider, two of my icons on my list. I could write on and on and on about the profound effects these two have had on me (search other blog entries if you do not know them) but Li really said it very well—these two educators are “engineers of the soul,” and every day in their classes was like the excitement of “captured fireflies.”
Sunday, September 11, 2011
It really was a beautiful morning
I remember driving to school ten years ago today quite frustrated about the lesson I was to teach later that morning in AP Art History. It was only my fourth day in this brand-new course of this massive survey of world visual arts, but I just wasn’t “feeling” this lesson. According to my very new syllabus, on September 11, 2001 I was going to teach about these votive figures from ancient Sumer. Ordinary citizens in the city-state of Sumer, oh circa 2500 BCE, would pay to have a statue placed in a temple to pray for them continuously. Usually I had a good sense of the art works, but as I drove to school I remember wondering how I would successfully engage the students on these ancient ancient bug-eyed statues.
As I drove up the hill at Hackley, I remember looking at the perfectly beautiful morning, struck by how gorgeous it could be on that early September morning.
As you might imagine given the date and the tumult unleashed 90 minutes later, I didn’t need to worry about the lesson that day. After my first period 20th century history class, the headmaster called the school to the auditorium to explain what had happened in Manhattan, about 20 miles away, in the previous half hour. There was no formal school for the rest of that day.
Of course as we all know today marks the 10th anniversary of the terrorist attacks in the U.S. on that gorgeous morning. It’s hard to think of that date now without mental images of the destruction, grief, and loss that swept over America and the world following those tragic events. The loss of thousands of lives was compounded by the depth of loss felt by New Yorkers in general, and corporately about the lost sense of security as a country.
There are many, many events and forums today in which to discuss 9/11. You don’t really need one more blabbering blogger discussing or remembering that day. I wouldn’t have anything new to say about the incredulity we all felt about those planes and those smoking buildings…but remembering that art history lesson may offer another perspective about that day and the reactions around me.
All through that day and into the night I spent in one of the common rooms on campus at Hackley, eyes glued to the television set. At various times I looked around the room and the scene was the same all evening—bug eyes at the television and the incomparable disaster it showed in nearby Manhattan. I saw more than one person punch a wall in anger and grief. But mostly I saw people silently watching, straining to take it all on, clasping and folding their hands in a strange disbelief over and over as they stared in fear and wonder and pain and hope. What would happen next? Was this the beginning of more attacks? How do we make sense of it all? What horrific and unexplainable events—how could we make sense of it all?
As I watched students and adults drink in this sorrow, I thought of those Sumerian votive figures that did not get taught that day. Those figures, two of them seen above, are made of ordinary material representing ordinary people. They stare in fear and wonder and pain and hope at the unexplainable forces in their lives. How do we make sense of weather disasters and food shortages and injustices and wars? In that void of sense and logic, artists made these votive figures to stand in for the real people, so they could beseech the gods day and night, seeking solace and answers. As I watched the people around me, they were doing the very same thing—seeking solace and answers. These New Yorkers were bug-eyed too, awestruck at the events unfolding around them. That afternoon those 4,500 year old bug-eyed Sumerian votive sculptures all of a sudden made a great deal of sense to me. That morning I couldn’t imagine a connection to those statues. Hours later I had a connection I would never forget as people around me hoped and prayed for relief from this sorrow.
Today people in the United States will gather together and light candles, read names, lay wreaths, hold hands, cry at the loss of life and innocence, render requiems and pray for mercy. Ten years after that day I live in the Middle East—something I could not have imagined a decade ago—and am only miles away from where David wrote the psalm crying out for mercy: “My eye wastes away with grief, yes, my soul and my body.”
Tomorrow I will teach about ancient Sumer again—this is the 9th year I have taught this course, and I will teach those votive figures again, and I will explain as I do every year, that I was to teach those sculptures on that beautiful sunny morning but the world stopped and I found a poignant and heartbreaking connection to those ancient gypsum sculptures.
It doesn’t provide the balm in Gilead, but it is one of the ways I remember that sunny morning and grief-stricken day.
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