Here's a truth I wouldn't like to admit - I stick with this experience because I'd like to say I've had it and done it. Clearly there's more, but I feel that very honestly. I think part of that "more" is the effect that my students have had on me. Yes, they have gut-wrenchingly tried my patience every single day, but when I saw a bunch of them leaving the internato (dormitories) with all of their belongings packed into one sack, some of them knowing they would not come back next year - I think it really hit me. I've left my fate to those who don't necessarily share my priorities and I've been forced to look at the world in a different way. I don't feel sad to see them leave because I pity them - I feel sad because they've become a part of my life and I know I will never see some of them again.
I tried to shut off the incoming stream of memories from high school and college, when I felt the same way. There's only so much sympathy - or sentimentality - I can take, especially when earlier in the day, half of them were begging me (some of them girls in very provocative clothing) to raise their grades. It's this constant battle I've fought for nine months, between being pissed off at a developing educational system and being humbled by unquenched desire for knowledge.
Little by little, like every natural system, the lows stop being so low and highs are evened out as well. Next year, I'll be a much better teacher, fully equipped so handle my students.
And tonight really marks the beginning of that second year. I'm only a week away from my half-way point (from being away from Cleveland), I've completed - more or less - the first school year, I'm set to help out in training and get to know the new group, and my mother is coming out to visit. Then, I'll help out with training once again, come back here and participate in activities for world AIDS day, plan out and go to Portugal for Christmas with Eric, go to South Africa to see Cara, Allison and Adam, then start the school year with a new volunteer under "my wing".
Which got me to thinking...why is it that I try so many different things? I think I visualized it by picturing myself walking on a perfectly round plate, balanced in the middle on a sort of giant needle. Head towards the edges, and the plate begins to rock slightly.
But this plate is not normal in any way. It provides the only light in a dark universe, emanating light only where territory has been discovered. And so I am constantly walking this plate, searching dark spaces to bring illumination. And every once in a while, I find the edge - the limit of my abilities. And I don't spend very much time there, because this plate does not like to be unbalanced for very long. So I often return to the middle so that I can look at the big picture and see who I have become and where I would like to go.
I feel like I have discovered only a fraction of the space on this plate, and that areas turn dark with disuse. I must make peace with the fact that I will never find the never-ending edge - the circle that goes around and around without end. Knowing this, I can tell myself to be a wanderer and not have any pressure to try EVERYTHING.
And not all of the space on this plate is occupied by activities I have yet to do. There are emotions I have yet to feel, people I have yet to meet, decisions I have yet to make.
So what occurs to me as I see my students leaving school, possibly for the last time, is whether I have done my best to give them the power to explore their own worlds. Do they see their world a little differently because of me? Do they seek to question what they've been told? Do they know better how to learn?
The randomness of being where I am hasn't escaped me. But the idea that I can adapt and offer my abilities to a community's needs is not only attractive, but is powerful. Sometimes I hope that it's this idea which rubs off on my students.
Peace
John
