Dead men walking

Not long ago, I woke up one morning and heard a crack coming from the Earth. Without warning, everything began to fall apart. What happened? I wondered. Was this a sign from the heavens? Or was it the foolishness of men?

I stand at the cliff of this earthquake. The destruction is unfathomable. Hadn't I beckoned long enough? Was my voice not clear or loud enough? Were we not talking in the same language? Was my advice not wise enough? Was my desperation to avoid this destruction what threw you over the cliff? Was it you? Was it me? Us?

What hope is there for our world if we, after all that we have been through, cannot simply sit down and talk? What lies beyond the horizon when walk as unsynchronized bodies pretending to be our individual selves? What a ridiculous sense of self we possess! And what great egos... all blown up. Cannot, will not, take responsibility for our actions. Cannot and will not back away from our wrongs.

And you, yes... you. I know that you wake up every morning and shake the sleep of your swollen eyes from the night´s tears. One more day you kiss your babies. One more day you plan, one more meal, one more bed sheet, one more broken glass. You wake up and gather the troops. 'Let's go!' You smile although your heart is flooded with pain. But you can't help it because their eyes have this magic power to make you laugh. Their voice is the fuel that allows you to go to work and come back home and continue work, non-stop till nightfall. You wonder to yourself if this was meant to be that way. You had asked and tried for so long that loneliness began to set in as an age old friend. 'Hello friend', you whisper in the mirror... 'Here we go again...one more day... Lord give me strength.' And you pretend that your prayers and your deep breaths fill your life. Somehow you know that this was not supposed to be. Inside you are infinite amounts of joy and laughter. You miss yourself and you lost yourself in your struggles. 

And you...I don't know you well enough. But I see you engulfed and trapped in this tiny box. You are folded and pressured from all sides. I see you like a caged lion passing back and forth. Depression sets in you too, but its anger that lashes out. And you run, you run away to places where no one can find you. But your tormentor is inside you, can't you see? This judge that you have made it yours. This voice that won't shut up! This guilt that drives you further away from all that you had. You lose grip of meaning. Why live? For what? I'm not needed. I'm not good enough. 

Perhaps we are dead men walking... walking along the river's bank. You are doing exactly what was expected of you. And so am I. 

(And even in the end of this, I scream to myself: there must be a way! there must! I cannot give up! I cannot surrender to what is not beautiful and peaceful and filled with bliss!)

Radical

Henry James is quoted in the book Rules for Radicals (by Alinsky) as saying: "Life is, in fact, a battle. Evil is insolent and strong; beauty enchanting but rare; goodness very apt to be weak; folly very apt to be defiant; wickedness to carry the day; imbeciles to be in great places, people of sense in small, and mankind generally unhappy."

When I read this... words came pouring out of my heart. This is what my heart was saying:

"This was the world as I understood a couple of years back. And I was a warrior willing to fight for more justice at any and all cost! But then, my world came tumbling down and I realized that I was not as strong as I thought I was. At least, not strong enough to win in such a world.

Why live then?

But, I remembered the birth of my sons. I saw into their eyes as their bodies grew. I heard their voices deep in my heart. And I realized that if I live in a battlefield, I will be passing on to them a war.

Yet their eyes, their voices, their hands beckoned me to recognize that my sons are not children of war! They are children of Light, of Life, of Love!

So I concluded that I did not want to pass on war - didn't want to live in a battlefield and see them die as I felt death engulfing me. I had to, therefore, live in the world of Light, of Love, and of Peace. So that my sons can grow up at home.

I will fight no more.
I will resist with gratitude.
I will strike with a smile.
I will love and I WILL let go.
I will struggle with open arms.
I will build by bowing down.
I will create and not destroy.

Yours truly,

My Soul

Philosophy of Education

“Sanctuaries are made not found¹” is a quote that continuously speaks to me.  It succinctly describes the many processes involved in our development. I believe that learning and development are synonymous – that is, when we are growing and developing as beings, we are learning. The moment we stop learning, we stop growing. However, this growing/learning process does not happen in isolation. We are structured and designed for connection². Therefore, learning is the process through which truth is constructed by the weaving of experiences. This unraveling of an experience is informed by knowledge, shaped by skill, and enriched by communication. If belonging to a group is not contingent upon performance, freedom of expression and action make the experience sumptuously rich for everyone involved.

This, of course, is growing/learning in an environment where unconditional love is strived for. In our modern society, we view the years spent on school as years dedicated to academic learning. This view on learning requires a specific structure in order for it to be beneficial and not detrimental to a student because it is based on performance. Belonging, therefore, becomes dubious grounds, and with it, freedom of expression and action are continuously vulnerable to the imperatives of an institution.

What, then, are the requirements of learning within an institution? It is essential that we recognize the act of learning as a process that only happens within a relationship³. This learning relationship is influenced by and exerts influence on the environment under which it operates⁴. Therefore, keen awareness of the environment, from the physical classroom where both teacher and students meet to the era in which we live, is one pre-requisite to being able to teach. The development of this awareness also allows the teacher to view her students as morally solvent⁵. This is a pre-requisite because the learner must choose to enter into a learning relationship. And he will only choose to do so if he views the her other as morally solvent. If the learner views the teacher and his classmates as morally bankrupt, the learner will choose to not enter into this learning relationship and, therefore, will choose to not learn⁶.

This sounds like an insurmountable task within an environment afflicted by competition and stained by paradigms of scarcity – we cannot be completely solvent in scarcity. Yet, it is not impossible to create because we are wired for connection. It is impossible for us to NOT connect when given the chance -we have to work hard at ignoring; just as it is impossible for us to NOT learn (because learning is growing). How, then, do we create such environments were moral solvency is default and, therefore, where we would choose to enter into learning relationships with our peers and teachers? I believe that it begins within the teacher and it is maintained by a firm grip on hope.

In order for a teacher to be able to impart her knowledge to her students and in order for her students to be willing to learn from her, she must first become their student and remain as their student. She must take in everything about them from their mannerisms to their expressed hopes and dreams. She must put her thoughts, experiences and judgments on hold and allow herself to be opened and to be changed by them. She must be willing to enter into this relationship without preconceptions or preset measuring sticks. This earning to learn from her students, this openness toward them will only draw her students into a reciprocal stance. They will, little by little open to her, be drawn by her, and by her hopes and her dreams. Her moral solvency is only perceived in their minds in as much as they know her – or better yet: in as much as she makes herself known to them.

Entering into a learning relationship takes time. However, at some point in the course of experiences, the learner solidifies his choice to learn from the knowledgeable one⁷. When the learner makes this choice, he allows the teacher to see him in all his capacities. It is then and only then, that a teacher can define an accurate ‘Zone of Proximal Development⁷.’ And this space between what the teacher imparts and what the student is able to do on his own is maintained because neither one will distance or hide. They will both move at the same rate as in dance. All the strategies and scaffolding techniques can now become efficient tools to increase the ability of the learner because they are based on an accurate representation of the student’s capacities (the student has not hidden them) and they are accepted by the student (as opposed to being coerced or manipulated).

Learning is a process of the construction of a new common reality. It is not side-by-side work. It is the weaving of our understandings, the creation of the world WE want. It is a deeper realization of who WE are. I would slightly change Shailor’s quote: sanctuaries are not found, WE make them.

Cited Works 

1.  Shailor, Jonathan
2. Brown, Brené (2007). It thought it was just me (but it isn’t). New York: Penguin Group, Inc.
3. Freire, Paulo (1969). La educación como práctica de la libertad. México: siglo xxi editores, s.a. de c.v.
4. Brofenbrenner, Urie (1994). Ecological Models of Human Development. The International Encyclopedia of Education, 3(3), 1643-1647.
5. Parker, Palmer. (1998). The Courage to Teach. San Francisco, CA: Jossey-Bass Publishers.
6. Kohl, Herbert (1994). I Won't Learn From You. Minneapolis, IN: Milkweed Editions.
7. Graham, Sandra (2005). Developing Through Learning: A Review of the Work of Piaget, Vygotsky, and Bandura. Alverno College 

A Bit of Frustration and a Drop of Water

I was quite a bit frustrated today: the volume in the class was beyond my tolerance level, the 'not following instruction' seemed to be the norm for the day. It was almost as if I could count in one hand how many were truly 'following instruction.' The most painful reality, however, was the amount of invalidating and demeaning comments that rolled out of the lips of children - as if it was their nature to find enjoyment in the manipulation of someone else's vulnerability.

And I was swayed from one thought into the next: "How dare?????" Haven't they been taught to listen to an adult?!? Haven't they been taught to respect and be kind?????  and then...

I remembered what I have heard from adults, from the voice that dominates our society, from government, from all sources - it seems.

Here is a quick example of an interaction that took place in class today:

Child A: 'I wish you would go back to ______ (where the child came from)! Because I don't want to see you again!

Child B: Well, you are not the only one in this class! She wants to see me again, don't you? (to child C)

Child C: Yeah! (yelling) I want to see you again, you (to child A) should have not come to school today!

OUCH!!!! but wait a minute! I have heard this before! Here is how the story went about 6 years ago. My husband (at that time), my mother (from Ecuador and monolingual Spanish speaker), my son (4 years old at that time) and I were shopping at Woodman's. My husband was speaking in Spanish with my mother who was holding my son's hand . I, thankfully, was not next to them when this happened. A stranger walked by my husband and yelled: "You should be speaking in English!!! This is America for Christ's sake! or you should go back to where you came from!" My husband was startled and taken aback and my mother had no idea why the stranger was angry. When we got home, my 4 year old son began to refuse to respond to me in Spanish (something that I have always asked of my sons to do in the hope that they will grow bilingual), a few days later, he announced to me that he will no longer speak in Spanish because this is America.

This is one of many stories that have happened to us or that have happened to someone we know or that are heard on TV.

It seems to me that when we, the adults, want a child to behave differently because we are not happy with his/her behavior, we tend to place the responsibility of such changes in two general areas: 1. The child - we truly feel that it is the child's fault and that they should know better. We, adult society, punish, shame, blame, give them medicine, take them to counseling and repeatedly ask children to change. 2. The other adults involve in the child's life: the teacher should have done something about it! the doctor should have taken care of that.  ... the parents, the grandma, the auntie, the step mom, etc.

Yet, we are not willing to look at ourselves and the environment  that WE provide for our children. We are much quicker in accepting medication to calm a child than shutting off the cell phone, the laptop, the TV to give him our undivided attention. Don't get me wrong. I am able to understand why sometimes medication may be necessary. However, to just medicate a child, to blame it on some internalized mechanism without so much a look at who we are, how we live, what we do and say, is, to me, the epitomy of hypocrasy. The word 'medicate' can easily be substituted with 'punish,' 'put in time out,' 'blamed,' etc. We are much quicker to yell at our child to stop running than we are willing to get our butts of the couch or desk, or perhaps leave work on time, to take the children to the park to play. We so easily get upset when our child uses inappropriate words, yet we are not willing to change how much we undermine and invalidate our colleagues, relatives, neighbors, and that damn idiot who just cut me off!!!!

By one in the afternoon, I began to feel overwhelmed with what seems an impossible task: one teacher standing in the middle of a group of children that cannot relate to each other attempting to teach. How is change ever going to happen when we continue to place responsibility in someone else? All the dreams I had and have of a more peaceful world seem to collapse in the mouths of a group of hurt children. The curse of Adam and Eve seems to be an inescapable reality - it is always someone else's fault! someone else's responsibility.

Truly overwhelming... all I could do is attempt to be as attentive, attuned, and responsive to the child that was sitting next to me as I would be to my own sons. All I could think was that, at the end of the day, I am fully responsible for 2 boys in this world, and that after I put them to bed tonight, I would have to face myself, my ancestors, and that which is sacred to me: Life itself, and choose who I will hold accountable for all the actions, thoughts, feelings, and interactions that I experienced throughout the day.

I make the daily choice of taking a deep look at who I am, what I do, what I think, how I feel, and how I respond. I make the daily choice of keeping myself real - no expectations put on my sons that I wouldn't put on me; no expectations put on me that are not born from my heart; no actions taken that are not based on compassion and connection; no direction followed that does not take in consideration my own humanity and the humanity of all around me.

I cannot think how far reaching the impact of my actions may or may not be -that is almost fathomless and, very often, hopeless. I choose to only worry about the drop of water that will cause the first waves... let the rest come when it may.

Fading dreams

When did your dreams begin to fade? Was it that you succumbed to the inevitable reality of your life? or that you began to recognize the pearls that lie hidden within the ordinary?

Dreams? I've had many. Dreams of revolutions that level the plain field, that cross the divide between rich and poor, that bring peace and justice for all... oh yeah... such dreams that stoke the fire of my childhood and youth.

And tonight, because of that damn Margarita that I drank, I feel the pain of such dreams never realizing, of feeling, perhaps too old, too tired, or too busy living, too powerless to make them a reality!

Revolution???? no such thing! I'm staying away from cops so they don't give me a parking ticket because, God Damn it!  if I get a ticket, how the hell could I pay it?!

Dreams of a family? of a mom and a dad... bullshit! that's for sure! I got divorced! ha! i got divorced! because simply said... love just was not enough, was not there, was not what we were looking for.

Teaching? yeah.. that's right... being a great teacher, changing lives, inspiring, molding, fighting! young people filled with hope???? nope... perhaps filled with bag! I have also failed as a teacher...

My dreams seemed to be fading fast... the problem is that I have nothing else to hold unto! if they disappear  then what fuels my hope? hope in what? going where?

In this land, this arid land, hope rapidly loses its meaning and I rapidly lose my life.

Números en Fiesta

Anoche sumé los números en mi cabeza.
Números que se revuelven y se mezclan
se suman y se restan.

Ayer sumé los números
que nos separan y nos dividen
y no pude encontrar manera de balancear
la ecuación...

la educación...

y ¿cuántos años tienes?
¿cuántos tengo yo?

y ¿cuántos dedos tienes?
¿cuátos tengo yo?

Los números comienzan
a cantar su canto
a bailar su baile;
se revuelven, se mezclan,
se suman y se restan.

Y hay muchos otros y otras
con más y
con menos que yo
con números igual que vos.

Los números comienzan
a cantar su canto
a bailar su baile;
se revuelven, se mezclan,
se suman y se restan.

Y las lágrimas se suben a mis ojos
y el vacío aumenta en mi corazón

En tal fiesta me pierdo
... en el temor...
que tal vez me dejes tú
o te deje yo...

Y la suma y la resta
se revuelven y se mezclan
y se ponen en fiesta

...y me pierdo yo...

hasta que decido sentirte
esta noche, este instante
y decirme que
el hoy no es mañana
ni es ayer

(entonces comienzo a escuchar una nueva canción)

Cierro los ojos y apago la luz
Hasta aquí ha llegado esta fiesta!

Una arruga más

Esta mañana me desperté

Y vi una arruga más cerca de mis ojos

Me pareció hermoso.

Camino y el camino

es mi maestro.

He vivido suficiente para sentir

mi cuerpo – querer sentirlo

He crecido suficiente

para añorar las risas instantáneas del día,

los momentos no planeados,

las conversaciones inesperadas.

He creído suficiente

como para saborear

con más ganas

los sabores más simples.

Las ilusiones de grandeza

van desapareciéndose.

Poco a poco son reemplazadas

por tus miradas.

Y no estoy cansada… aún no.

Falta mucho por caminar.

Y no estoy vacía… todavía no.

Falta mucho por dar.

Y no me canso de buscar

porque hay mucho por recorrer.

Camino y el camino es mi maestro.