what I wish for, what I work for

penIn the days after extremists murdered magazine staff in France, I read essays from several journalists I admire.   This admiration reminds me of what I wish for and what I work for on behalf of students. The first essay was written by David Kirkpatrick, a former student from a school where I used to work.  This fact by itself occasions a certain pride.  Beyond this feeling, though, I admire the perspective he brings to the subject because he lives with his family in Cairo.  He knows his subject because he has made the commitment to inhabit the place.  As transplanted correspondent, he has credibility.  In a sense, he has done his homework.  His new home is his work.  The second essay, by David Brooks, I admire for its memorable metaphor–that and its ability to draw valuable distinctions in this challenging conversation.  For example, he distinguishes between the “adult table” and “kids’ table” of journalists.  Though I do not entirely agree with his placement of some professionals, his image remains with me.  Finally, the third essay, by Nicholas Kristof, shares qualities with the first two.  In addition, it expresses a thoughtful caution for those of us who might react to extreme intolerance with our own version of the same: “One of [the] things I’ve learned in journalism is to beware of perceiving the world through simple narratives, because then new information is mindlessly plugged into those story lines.  In my travels . . . extremist Muslims have shared with me their own deeply held false narratives of America as an oppressive state controlled by Zionists and determined to crush Islam.  That’s an absurd caricature, and we should be wary ourselves of caricaturing a religion as diverse as Islam.”  Kristof’s essay invites me to imagine the world I wish for and work for.  I wonder what extremists imagine as their intended world.  For my part, as a teacher, I wish for and work for students who can respond credibly to challenging situations, create memorable metaphors and beware of unquestioned thoughts.

p.s. I shared a draft of this paragraph with my students, as a way of showing them some of the reasons we do what we do together, in and out of class.  Periodically, I need to show these reasons to myself and to them.  The events of this past week reinforce my sense of purpose as one adult guide of their development as writers and thinkers.

photo credit: http://www.endlessicons.com/free-icons/fountain-pen-icon/


Filed under challenge, expression, imagination, reasons for writing, work

4 responses to “what I wish for, what I work for

  1. These three essays are a smart and thoughtful collection, Bill — all reflective of the complexity of the Paris attack. And they also serve as a mirror for any error of forming too simple an explanation for that attack – and for our response. You set the essays’ context well. I appreciate your putting them forth. They all gave me pause, time to further explore our culture and other cultures, my religion, and other religions. There is nothing simple about violence, and why people commit it. We have to keep talking, all of us, even when the other brings weapons to the conversation.

  2. Thank you, Stephen. I value your observations about these pieces. We are reading Hosseini’s KITE RUNNER, and several students have already written about the need to keep talking with each other.

    • Nan, Callie, and I saw “Selma” yesterday…All very timely…And I still wonder how such inordinately complex problems can be “solved” without massive resources of all types being applied when we can’t solve such simple ones. But hope remains a piece of twine that binds the bluebird’s nest together….

  3. Pingback: Brexit, sheep and students: knowing the bones of the land | maroonballoon

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