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Thursday, May 10, 2007

National Day Of The Teacher 2007

The line between good and evil, hope and despair, does not divide the world between "us" and "them". It runs down the middle of every one of us. I do not want to talk about what you understand about this world. I want to know what you will do about it. I do not want to know what you hope. I want to know what you will work for. I do not want your sympathy for the needs of humanity. I want your muscle. As the wagon driver said when they came to a long hard hill, "Them that's going on with us, get out and push. Them that ain't, get out of the way."

Robert Fulghum (1937 - )
Source: It Was On Fire When I Lay Down On It, Page: 107

Teachers live on the line. For they work towards the day when will all "get there together, all to the promised land". They are doing something, full of all the contradictions of their humanity. But as I look at our world I see our teachers shouldering their share of doing. (I wrote this last night vomiting with a stomach flu trying in my illness to gather thoughts about teaching. The vomiting and the thoughts are somehow hooked. This quote one that started a training I had to attend this year... )

And so, we teachers.....We show up, we assess the lay of the land and work towards the future.
As I look out on the Day of the Teacher May 2007, in a time recognizing "The creativity in the Art of Teaching ", this year something tells me that the capacity of teachers to "get out and push" has probably defined the last year, as we have (many of us) struggled often under-valued, under-respected and perhaps diminished as creative and thinking within many processes that have felt at best "political" and at worst a gathering storm. And yet here we are, teachers together, with our metaphorical umbrellas and rain gear,
tarps, our maps and boots, projects and yardsticks trying to guide the young through this hurricane into the calm day of future.
Here we are. Guides. Beacons. Light. Here we are.

This year my children had, as ever, very good teachers, support, safety, curriculum, tests, tasks and sometimes, sometimes moments of inspiration. And it's hard to know exactly with teens what these inspiring lessons are, for the children hold so much close to the vest. But I do watch. I see the dedication to tasks, their concern to do good works, I see their events, their projects, the concerts, science events, awards. And I know teacher energy and teacher dedication put these things into place for them.

I'm incredibly grateful for public school and the opportunity to see my children grow their capacities and human gifts in that space where everyone is welcome. And no one is considered sorted for their money, race, religion, because like our country itself we create a microcosm, a school, to represent the kind of opportunity our country represents. A land of the free and brave. A place to come together, learn, work, achieve, share, make friends and work to understand one another so that we may live peaceful lives on our journey on earth.

I am deeply appreciative to public schools and to the teachers here in the Oxnard plain.
And to you reading out in the world.
You showed up. You make a difference.

My daughter Sylvia is graduating this year. It's almost more than I can address here the complexities of my feelings about her 12 years in our schools. I'm proud of her work, thankful for her instructors, aware of everything that has changed nationally in these times.

Central to my hope for Sophia, Luca and Sylvia was that they would attend the school in which I taught, work to do their best, and learn about their world through this process both our national greatness and to understand those that need our compassion. Understand our foibles , our unfairness, see dignity and humanity up close. I wanted my children to understand that among the finest people on earth are often those we discount, we project our pathologies upon. I wanted my children to look at the content of our character. I wanted my children to value their character, the active lexicon of love as a first line of response. I think they have had a phenomenal education in being human. I wanted them to grow to understand why I became a teacher, why we choose this work, and to see daily something I kind of thought of as "what really matters."

And I'm afraid, as great as they score, it isn't for me contained in a test measure. I value a test measure as an indicator of something. But I'm in it for the long haul. And that takes a lifetime to know and get the results back. But know, I think everyday children are being given bits of future 'stardust", inspiration.....I see them enough to know this work matters no matter how a teacher is scapegoated or a society is blinded by political rhetoric. Each day children are taking in our lessons.

We teach reading so that we can use the love and beauty of reading to work on our knowledge, our understanding, our ability to consider with story and with metaphorical constructs what our world is, to see new things, to communicate, to process and define, to become able to make our world a better place. To work out freedoms, peace, understanding. We read to know. We read to question. We read, therefore we are. And school brings us to those who help us reach for this. Inspiration.

We compute, do math, inquire, explore, invent, hypothesize, test, design so we can build our futures with the hope it is a better world, not only for us and our own but for the meek, the ones born to least advantaged situations. We cannot know if the medical advances, the science, the inventions can contain all of the unfairness and pain and suffering. But we can know that if we teach of the capacity for this, if we inspire it, believe it, work with this as our light, we will model it. We give hope.

And so.....I hope you know that we appreciate all you do, all you try to do, all you represent. You showed up, fought a good fight. You were here for children. Surely at the end of the day that matters. That's an artful and important kind of way of being in this world.
I saw you here on the front line. Giving a hug and maybe reading a story.

Thank you, Happy Teacher's Day, Sarah Puglisi

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