On the first day of school, i told my class of 20 students, that there are 21 students in this classroom; I then asked them how many teachers they thought are in the class, and thankfully one student said: “21”.
They were not all sure, not totally convinced of what this crazy teacher with crazy hair was telling them; but as the days marched on they began to witness as my eyes light up at hearing their insight; their own eyes so too lit up when they heard me exclaim what I had just learned – from them!
There is an unfortunate immaturity which possess students, be they 14 or 20, as they enter a high school. There is a sense of safety, especially when there is a good and comfortable environment, which allows their maturity to melt away as they see fit to whine and complain and beg for pity (no words needed). With this constant façade it is easy to forget that underneath lie intelligent human beings, ones who have lived great tales of tragedy and hope and despair and survival and perseverance. These teachers of mine, of ours, fumble like idiot savants through the labyrinth of human interaction and at the moments when they are needed most to snap out of their forced idiocy – there is silence and nothing but their voice, as it speaks the truth and the nature of our reality, is heard penetrating my own concept of truth, my own perception of reality.
For this I thank them; by this I am reminded why I teach.