teaching learning growing connecting

Today was one of those big picture days that connects all the little details.   I was sitting at the playground during my students’ recess with the other teachers and tutors from second grade.  Some of the kids who aren’t as crazy about running around in the 100 degree heat were hanging around us as we chatted.

“What’s the best place you’ve ever been?”  a little girl from the other class asked the college tutor from her own class.  The same girl asked me this question the day before.

“Washington, D.C.,” replied the tutor, who, minutes before, shared with me that he had left Haiti only six or seven years ago.

“My sister lived there,” I told him.  “So I’ve been a few times.  I have also been there for protests,” I said.

“Protests against what?” the tutor asked. 

“Oh, you know, against the war and things like that,” I said.

“The war in Afghanistan?” he asked.

“Yeah, and Iraq.”

“But they attacked us on 9/11.  What would you have done?”

“I honestly don’t know what I would have done if I were in the position to have to make a decision about it.  What I wouldn’t have done, though, is respond to violence with violence.”  I looked around at the kids playing on the playground.  “I mean, we teach these kids not to hit a classmate back if he hits him first.  Why is it any better to do on a large-scale, political level?” 

“But that’s what the military does.  It protects its borders,” he replied.

“Well, you might think I’m a little bit out there, but I actually don’t believe in militaries.  Or borders.”

“But the military does good things.  They stabilize other countries when they can’t do it themselves.  They give aid to those in need,” the tutor argued.

“If the United States hadn’t put them in these positions though, they wouldn’t need the aid. The United States has robbed these countries of their own resources.”

“Yeah, they took all the gold from Haiti.”

“Exactly. Just because they are greedy.  No wonder even our second graders steal things from each other.  It’s what they see.  Who can blame them?”

“So does this have to do with your work at the Coalition?” the other teacher, who knows the other place I work, chimed in very timely. 

“Well, we work for the dignity of the farmworker.  We want their hard work to be recognized with fair pay.  Then instead of relying on charity, they could provide for themselves.  The multibillion dollar grocery stores can give whatever percentage of their profits away to the poor, but remains a position of power, in which they control the industry—keeping those at the bottom reliant on them for their handouts.  It’s the same thing the United States does to the rest of the world.”

The teachers and tutors were all attentively listening at this point.  I looked around at my kids.

“And that’s why I’m here,” I said, things suddenly becoming clearer after using the examples of what we teach our kids.  I looked at my watch.  Second grade would be ten minutes late for lunch due to our conversation, but the engaged audience and connections I made for myself was well worth it. 

In solidarity.

Julie