As a person I am horrified, shocked, and deeply wounded. As a teacher I am scared, worried, and want to hug my kids. As a Christian I want to weep with those who suffer, but I am moved to action. We are called to make this world "as it is in heaven.," and myself and many others are wondering how to do that in the face of the Connecticut tragedy.
While I would be fine with an assault weapons ban, fine with bullet-proof glass on the doors and windows of all schools, as well as putting a police officer on duty at every school, those are just ways to treat the symptoms of a disease. We are a fallen people with imperfect minds and bodies, and so often when we solve one problem, we create many more. We won't cure this disease alone with the aforementioned changes, but I think there are things we can do to help.
A few weeks ago in my classroom, I allowed students to bring their portable gaming systems or cell phones to play with during an advisory where we did not have anything else to do. Some of these gaming systems will connect to each other so that the two students can play with and/or against each other. I like to sit and watch them in their social time for entertainment and educational purposes, and I remember one student asked another, "Can we connect?"
In another generation, that might have been a question that, though forced and awkward, would have warranted two individuals sitting down to share their thoughts, feelings, dreams and fears, creating an enduring friendship and real community. I don't want to rail against the evils of technology (this is a blog after all). But I think this idea of having a real connection with someone, as opposed to connecting through Nintendo DS and a USB wire, is a real human need that we are losing in a crowded society without real human connection. The symptoms of these lack of connections are many, but after hearing about nearly every mass gunmen being a "social recluse" lost in computer games and internet anonymity, I can't help but see a correlation (which of course does not always equal causation) between a lack of human connection and real community and the increase of mass shootings here in the US.
We all have people in our lives who are on the same spectrum as Adam Lanza, Seung-Hui Choi, or James Holmes. Yes, they are the most difficult to connect with, and it is much easier on us to leave them be. But as a Christian and an ethical educator, I believe it is our duty to give the people in our lives a reason to share emotional and social common ground with the people around them. The good Samiritan went to the injured traveler while the holy men crossed to the other side of the street to avoid him. Jesus climbed up a tree to invite a tax collector into his home for dinner. Mother Teresa spent time with the sick and ostracized, but we have those same opportunities every day. Whether it is the guy in the office down the hallway who always eats lunch alone, or the student that doesn't have any friends, we have a responsibility to the stigmatized among us to love them, to be a community,and to give them real connection. We shouldn't do this to stop mass shootings, but because we are called to love our neighbor as ourself, but hopefully the fruit of that love will bring more peace to the world.
Monday, December 17, 2012
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Vocabulary in Action, or Why My Students Will Never Forget What "Disgorge" Means
My first few weeks as middle school teacher were fortunate enough to be full of what I had dubbed, the "puke and run." At least three times in the first few weeks of school, I would walk into the hallway after school, only to smell the acidic aroma of throw-up and look down the hallway to see a chair poised over wet paper towels like a penguin over it's egg.
When I approached the area, I asked the nearby students who had puked, and if they were alright. Without fail, no one knew to whom the spew belonged. I laughed/cried at the thought of a nervous and scared middle schooler, their first few days dealing with lockers, block schedule, and allegedly getting trampled in the hallways, feeling so sick and nervous that they had to ralph right in the hallway, unable to make it to the bathroom. Then, in true middle school fashion, the student fled the scene of their own upchuck, leaving a hallway hazard; a puke and run.
Throwing up is more common in middle school than I remember, but I had yet to suffer through it in my own classroom. Unfortunately, I had to go and select the word "disgorge" from the book we were reading, Malgudi Days, by R.K. Narayan. While disgorge can be applied to non-intestinal issues, that was the easiest and most popular way for the students to remember the word, so that is usually how we practiced it. One day, as we were reviewing the vocabulary words from the book (disgorge prominent among them), a student, let's call him Jose, told me he was feeling sick. Middle School students are always ailing in some way, so I am usually reluctant to send them to the nurse, but this was a student who didn't really play that game, so I sent him to the nurse. As usual, he returned a few minutes later with some water and some crackers. As we continued to work, I had my back turned to the student, and I heard a report from behind me, "Mr. Maddox, Jose puked!" This was a diction related self-fulfilling prophecy if I had ever seen one.
I turn to find chewed up versions of the aforementioned crackers and water all over the floor and a couple students shoes and pants. Jose sat frozen and covering his mouth with a look of what must have been the pinnacle of pre-teen embarrassment on his face. I quickly rushed him back to the nurse, and cleared the classroom for fear of a chain reaction puke waterfall triggered by the sight, sound and smell of our first accident. Yes, there was puke. In my room. On my floor. The smell lingered for days, which was probably much shorter than the shame lingered on Jose's face.
As we cleared the classroom and into an empty one for the final bit of class, I knew that these students would never forget the word disgorge. Unfortunately, they would also never forget that Jose was the one who lost his lunch.
The vocabulary tests proved me correct, as nearly every student nailed the disgorge sentence. I try my best to teach a relevant, engaging curriculum that connects to the real world, but sometimes life hands you little gifts (disgusting or otherwise) that provide the REAL learning in school. We learned all too well what disgorge mean that day, as well as the fact that the nurse shouldn't "just guess" about a student's temperature when she "loses the thermometer."
When I approached the area, I asked the nearby students who had puked, and if they were alright. Without fail, no one knew to whom the spew belonged. I laughed/cried at the thought of a nervous and scared middle schooler, their first few days dealing with lockers, block schedule, and allegedly getting trampled in the hallways, feeling so sick and nervous that they had to ralph right in the hallway, unable to make it to the bathroom. Then, in true middle school fashion, the student fled the scene of their own upchuck, leaving a hallway hazard; a puke and run.
Throwing up is more common in middle school than I remember, but I had yet to suffer through it in my own classroom. Unfortunately, I had to go and select the word "disgorge" from the book we were reading, Malgudi Days, by R.K. Narayan. While disgorge can be applied to non-intestinal issues, that was the easiest and most popular way for the students to remember the word, so that is usually how we practiced it. One day, as we were reviewing the vocabulary words from the book (disgorge prominent among them), a student, let's call him Jose, told me he was feeling sick. Middle School students are always ailing in some way, so I am usually reluctant to send them to the nurse, but this was a student who didn't really play that game, so I sent him to the nurse. As usual, he returned a few minutes later with some water and some crackers. As we continued to work, I had my back turned to the student, and I heard a report from behind me, "Mr. Maddox, Jose puked!" This was a diction related self-fulfilling prophecy if I had ever seen one.
I turn to find chewed up versions of the aforementioned crackers and water all over the floor and a couple students shoes and pants. Jose sat frozen and covering his mouth with a look of what must have been the pinnacle of pre-teen embarrassment on his face. I quickly rushed him back to the nurse, and cleared the classroom for fear of a chain reaction puke waterfall triggered by the sight, sound and smell of our first accident. Yes, there was puke. In my room. On my floor. The smell lingered for days, which was probably much shorter than the shame lingered on Jose's face.
As we cleared the classroom and into an empty one for the final bit of class, I knew that these students would never forget the word disgorge. Unfortunately, they would also never forget that Jose was the one who lost his lunch.
The vocabulary tests proved me correct, as nearly every student nailed the disgorge sentence. I try my best to teach a relevant, engaging curriculum that connects to the real world, but sometimes life hands you little gifts (disgusting or otherwise) that provide the REAL learning in school. We learned all too well what disgorge mean that day, as well as the fact that the nurse shouldn't "just guess" about a student's temperature when she "loses the thermometer."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)