Words of hatred to my ears appeared to be words of truth.
I think it's a real problem that I judge myself in the way I do. I really just figured out that I truly judge myself by how others view me - well, maybe it's just that I finally admitted it. I think part of me wanted to believe that I could overcome that and not be dependent on the opinions of others. But I hopelessly am.
And so when others see me as the big, bad white guy - and I'll explain the truth in that - then I feel like shit.
Though I know they joke with me and try to push my buttons, there's brutal truth found in anonymity. When students are missing from my classes, say 20 or so, the class is a whole lot easier to handle, no matter who the 20 are who are gone. There's this power in numbers that reaches a critical point somewhere around 40 or 45 where you can go ahead and completely ream out the teacher and there's almost nothing justifiable the teacher can do.
And even when some students are alone, they think that you can't tell you're being poked and prodded - and there's still no recourse.
Come to think of it, this is much like my own high school experience - very much alone and continually emotionally berated because of this necessity to judge myself based on how others think. And so to compensate for what I feel I must do on principle, I work extra hard outside the lines to try and improve people's opinions of me - to the bone, sometimes. I say that I don't care what others think, but even that is to improve the idea that others have about my self-confidence (but I won't get into the idea that self-confidence is completely illusory in anyone). I undersell myself because I want to be seen as humble and I know that it makes more of an impression on someone if they find something out about me on their own.
But I shoot myself in the foot when I can't decide when to stand on principle and when to try and improve others' opinions of me - because that same conflict exists inside of myself. And I've seen this as a problem for some years now, but I don't think I've ever put all of myself into trying to solve it. Simply because I know how I should be, and it keeps on superficially covering up the problem underneath. Which is that I need the approval of others.
Or is it?
Maybe the problem really is that I see this as a problem. That I don't embrace this piece of myself and end up in conflict. That I don't want to admit to others that I'm as vulnerable as I am because it's not an American quality to be allowed to be judged by others. And not acceptable by Mozambican standards either, least of all a professor be judged by his students.
And so when I expose myself, I don't get the reaction I need, which is an open mind and open ears and understanding of what I'm trying to do, but merely a punching bag (and why that is is still beyond me). Sure, there are a few students who make the effort and forgive me for punishing the larger group because of those who I can't single out. But even they don't understand me and they go along with the abuse because they think it doesn't hurt me - why would I be here if it did? And why should they strive to understand me? They think that they already do. They listen to American music, watch American movies - they're inundated with unfortunately representative culture. As Americans think they know what Africans are like, because we need Africans to be financially poor but spiritually strong, traditional and driven by culture. We expect Africans to be opposite of Americans because we don't want to believe our vices are human nature but instead are something reparable with changing an ideal or two. The truth is, Africans - Mozambicans - have spirituality and tradition that transcends anything an American can conceive of. They have religion that Europeans and Americans brought and it poisons their spirituality. There are more rich Africans than you'd think, but it's because the Western world dumps money on the continent and the ones in power become corrupt - simply because they grew up poor and want to not be poor any more.
And so my point, which is quite a ways away at this stage, is that I wanted to, and almost did, punch Dinho tonight because I ran out of ways to deal with the way I'm treated by the students. He doesn't understand me and doesn't seek to understand me. He is one of the many.
I spend endless hours trying to understand my students in order to teach them better, and not only should I not expect the same from them, but maybe I shouldn't want it.
Which leaves me back where I started. Vulnerable.
Peace
John
