Sweet Surrender

I came to school this morning with knots in my stomach. I could not eat. I was so concerned about seeing my students, my senior girls who I have had for 2 years. They were my initiation. I am their finale. I waited in front of my hallway, watching the door for these girls who have given me laughter, hope and tears. The first one came in, head in her hands, crying. I have never seen this girl not smile. I ran to her, as tears welled up in my eyes, I threw my arms around her and guided her to my room, her arms clinging to my torso, my shoulder soaked from her tears. I ushered her, along with two of her friends, into my empty room. She sat atop a desk, I sat next to her, crying, saying only that I wished I could take this pain away from her; I cannot, so tell me what you need. After ten minutes I had six more of my girls in my room. I made some phone calls, pulled some strings . . . Some simply came to me. They were silent with tears for thirty minutes. I hugged them all, tightly, and told them how sorry I was, and how precious it is that they are here, together, to grieve and support.
Then I asked them if they thought about what their names would be when they married. Laughter. Precious, precious laughter. And questions. And more tears.
What would they do for graduation in memory of A? Ah, someone wanted to let out balloons. No, no. If they pop, birds will eat them and die. No surprise. They all laughed. Hippie Kinzie. Always thinking about the little animals and the environment!
Ok, how about butterflies? We can order them. Um, really? They all looked at me, what? What is wrong with this? Well, when you get them, most of them are usually dead.
What, pray tell, is your suggestion?
Thank god, I thought you would never ASK! Much laughter.
Flower petals. Flower petals on the football field.
Fabulous. We are all appeased!
Now, they need something constructive. PLANT A TREE! YES! Perfect. Survey the scene. Here is the perfect spot. A cherry tree . . . No, NOT a weeping willow. With a bench underneath it.
They were talking about me on Friday. They decided I was the one to go to if there was any problem. Love my "mediocre hippie style" . . . and what on earth does 'wicked' mean, anyway? More tears and laughter. Still no answers for them. But I surrendered to this beauty.
Tomorrow is the funeral. Things are not going to be easier tomorrow. If only I could have them for four hours again tomorrow . . .
There is no protection I can give to them. No answers that will make them sleep at night. Teaching is about learning, especially learning how to let go--and then turn around and embrace. If you offered me hundreds of thousands of dollars to quit this job, I would not.
Think about that--and ask yourself if you are willing to surrender.

Forever Young

Tragedy has struck my school this weekend. One of our seniors was killed in a car accident on Saturday night . . . struck by a car driven by three other of my students. They said she was killed instantly. She was the passenger in a car driven by another student. Five lives in all have been ruined. One has ended.
Today we have a scheduled teacher workday; there are no students at school. It's raining. I am sitting at my desk looking at the 30 empty desks staggered on my ugly carpet and I wonder why this has happened. Of course you will all say there is no reason. I know that. As a teacher, who does not have children of my own, my goal is to protect my students from pain. I have no control over this. As I wipe my swollen, sore eyes in anticipation for tomorrow I can only hope that this will bring out the best in this community, not vengeful rumors and blame.
They are already blaming themselves. And there are already rumors. Some were drinking. Refused a breathalizer. The car was going 70 mph. She never had a chance.
Tomorrow will be the most difficult day I have ever had. The living must go on living. Tomorrow's essential question will never be answered.

Toolboxes

I have read Elie Wiesel's memoir of the Holocaust, Night, approximately ten times. Each time I read it with my classes I have to stop a little bit earlier than the time before. Each time I read it tears well up in chapters 3, 6 and 8. Each time I see something within this man that pushes me to my utmost limits as a human being. This time I decided not to remain idle any longer.
I have taken my liberties with my English classes and have been questioned about my motives. I show Hotel Rwanda after reading Wiesel's memoir; I show the documentary Ghosts of Rwanda; I keep on my board the legal definition of genocide, as defined by the Genocide Convention from 1948. Often times my class feels more like social studies. But it is all worth it. I believe we cannot study Night without following through with Wiesel's message to promote zero tolerance when it comes to genocide. I would not be doing my job as an English teacher if I gave my students one piece of the puzzle, and I have been brought up to not expect someone else to do my job for me. This has led to the most profound moments of my life; even as I write this my eyes are watering and I have chills.
When my tenth grade students came to me in January they had not learned the term 'genocide'. They had never heard of Rwanda. They knew very little of the Holocaust. Darfur was a new 'concept'.
I now have 36 letters written to the Secretary General of the United Nations urging him to do whatever it takes to stop the genocide in Darfur. I also have 36 toolboxes. This was the task I gave to my students:
To create a REAL, tangible toolbox that will help you recognize where you can make change and will help you to make that change in regards to the acceptance of difference and the elimination of difference.
Many different things can go in your toolbox and there are a number of questions that you need to consider in the creation of your toolbox.

* Where do I have the power to make real change?
* Who is in my universe of obligation?
* What will I need in my toolbox to sustain me when this work gets hard?
* What will I have in my toolbox that will help me to remember why this work is necessary?
* What do I have in my toolbox as far as a ‘difference alarm,’ to wake me up when I need to do the work?
The toolbox itself needed to be symbolic of their quest for change. With each object they used they had to also write a short description about HOW it would be used and it's purpose. Let me share with you a few things that are surrounding me at this moment. Try to keep dry eyes. I certainly cannot.
Antibiotic Ointment: to keep infectious ideas about genocide from spreading.
Permanent Marker: to help people understand we need to permanently eradicate genocide.
Megaphone: so people cannot say they could not hear the genocide victims asking for help.
Glue: so people will stick to the promises they make, including the countries who ratified the Genocide Treaty but who have yet to acknowledge Darfur.
Vile of Ashes: to represent lives and humanity lost during genocide.
Night Vision Goggles: to allow you to see the truth about genocide while the rest of the world is kept in the dark.
Puzzle pieces: if a few pieces of the puzzle are missing then the puzzle as a whole is worthless, just as the world. If a few places in the world are forgotten about the rest of the world should feel worthless.
History Book: to remind people about the past so we can learn from our mistakes.
Paper Clips: for people who are discriminated against to stick together and make their voices heard to change people's views.
Rubber Band: to remind people to be flexible
Aluminum: so when people cover up these horrors they can see their reflection of ignorance staring back at them.
Screws: represent a STRONG solution to end genocide. What will endure longer? A house put together with tape, or one built with screws?
Door Stopper: to remind us never to close the door on countries who need our help.
A Chicken: to remind us that backing down from difficult situations is cowardly. Also, to remind us that it IS ok to back down from bullies who will try to persuade the world otherwise.
Q-Tips: so people can clean out their ears to hear clearly what is happening.
Eyeglasses with Wipes: to see the reality of how cruel our present world is by seeing clearly. If they get grimy, clean them with the wipes.
Mirror: to allow you to see yourself clearly and the power that you have.
Candle: to illuminate parts of the world that need light shed on them.
Bar of Soap: to cleanse the world of hateful thoughts.
A Net: to capture people's attention
Band Aids: to allow those who are hurt a chance to heal
Microphone: to give to people whose cries for help are not being heard.
Compass: to guide us back on the path of zero tolerance when we lose our way.
Pencil and Paper: documentation.
A Clock: so people realize that time is running out.
Energy Drink: so the world wakes up to what is happening.

These are just a few of the hundreds of objects my students have chosen to put in their toolboxes. I am beyond humbled. The last part of this project was a formal letter, as I mentioned above. More than anything, I want these students to be recognized for their work and compassion. They want to know if the UN will respond. I cannot tell them they will. I only hope that they realize their power to make a difference. Without acknowledgement, that might be difficult. I will end this with what I will put in my toolbox, and an excerpt from a letter written by one of my 10th grade students. I also will encourage you to make your own toolbox, and USE it.
Poisonwood Bible: to remind me how dangerous it is to preach my beliefs
Picture of the Dalai Lama: reminder that kindness is just as infectious as hatred and oppression CAN be overcome.
Picture of my sister: reminding me that one person can make a difference
Coffee: to keep me going when I want to give up; also acts as a wake up call for the rest of the world.
Bleach: to disinfect the world of discrimination
Seeds: to plant change wherever I go

Here's an excerpt from a letter. Read it, then go write your own.
When the Holocaust ended in 1945 people all around the world were ashamed that a country could get away with killing millions of people with no one stepping in. Many promised that "never again" would such a terrible thing occur. What many of those people do not realize is that 400,000 people have already been killed in Darfur, and 2.5 million people have been displaced. Up until a few weeks ago I myself had never even heard about Darfur, and the genocide has been going on for over 5 years. I understand the United Nations if doing certain things to help, but I am convinced that more must be done to end this genocide.
The UN must continue to send troops to Darfur and the refugee camps. Furthermore, we in the United States must do whatever we can to get other countries involved. The UN must educate more countries about what is going on and remind them to honor the Genocide Treaty. 139 countries ratified the Treaty, and I know if all of those countries come together we will have more than enough resources to help one country . . . It is your responsibility to ensure these countries take necessary action at any cost . . .One thing is for certain: pretending there is nothing more that we can do is not an option.