the tragedy of imagination

The euphoria from my most recent teacher training is beginning to wear off.....but there is an image that has stayed with me. It sneaks up in unexpected places---drives in the car, over the stove while I am cooking dinner, or flickering across the screen as I browse late night TV. It seems to occupy a place in the very back of my thoughts churning and tumbling in an effort to take form.

A sign of any good training is that participants are asked to create something tangible, work together to discuss ideas and use MARKERS! All of these were present at the IB training I attended in NJ. I was able to further establish my educational philosophies and develop techniques that will allow me to acheive a classroom that is consistent with what I believe education should be. And, of course, there is the invaluable experience of meeting with a variety of teachers and trading stories, methods, secrets and other fun stuff.

It was in this context that I found myself on a carpeted floor, marker in hand, writing down what I believed to be most important in developing "international mindedness" in students. Most of us came up with 3 or 4 phrases that involved similar ideas. It always seems to come down to a matter of semantics in these exercises. When I looked up to see what others had written, I saw part of a song lyric that stopped me cold. Actually stunned me into silence for a moment.

The words came from a John Lennon song...Imagine. The participant had chosen the phrase "imagine there's no religion....." I think there was probably more but I couldn't get past the last two words. No religion? Keeping in mind, I am moderate, at best, in my religious practices, I could only  think, if this small phrase had the power to block me so utterly and completely, imagine what it could do to someone more devout. Close the doors of communication with a final and resounding bang!

I understand the sentiment behind it all and certainly, clashes in religion have caused more wars and deaths than any other 'reason,' but sitting there, in the cool comfort of an air conditioned conference room, it seemed the wrong direction to be wishing in. International mindedness did not strike me as a concpet that should include erasing lines of distinction, or even worse, wishing we were all the same. I believe there was a simpler intention behind the sentiment (Can't we all just get along? type of thing) but we are so far beyond this kind of niavete---or we should be.

There is a line in the Qu'ran that points out how we were made and separated into nations. We weren't all lumped together with one language, one color, one solution to living a meaningful life. It seems unlikely that the solution to our problems, as a world, as a human kind, lies in trying to merge our varied beliefs and cultures into one or pretending them out of existence. We've had more than enough proof that fighting over these differences does not lead to stable lives, stable solutions or successful problem-solving. And so it seems all the more relevant that the IB mission includes one important statement--an acceptance that others, with their differences, might be right.

It's a powerful statement. One that, according to the presenters, is occasionally a turnoff to prospective schools who might otherwise be interested in the curriculum and methodology. It was the ultimate selling point to me. Yes, I want my children learning that there are many solutions to the same problem. I want them learning that multiple perspectives can lead to enlightment not just arguement. Yes, I want them to be interested, curious and able to understand and accept the beliefs of others without feeling a need to 'fix' or change them. I want them living in a world where there is peace not because we've erased boundaries but because we are no longer afraid to cross them.

So much of what we attempt to do in this world is motivated by an internal sense that there is one right and one wrong. It is a sense that two opposing sides cannot live peaceably or simultaneously. It is this last and most complicated sentiment that I have grappled with most, here in my latest sojourn to the US. I have felt it. Two opposing states of being existing within me at the very same moment. Learning to accept their existence, without question, dissection, or disolution has been one of the more challenging aspects of this emotion. But I've seen it can be done---and probably should be done a lot more often.

I did not take the time to engage in a conversation about the alarming message written on one corner of our group paper. From my perspective, we tread lightly around it. We had not developed the safety or group cohesion needed to engage at that level. It didn't make our final definition. But I worry about the path that educator will take---the students who will be affected by him. I have some confidence that with experience will come revision. A year in another country, another world, facing cultural surprises at every turn is certain to force a re-evaluation of the most well intentioned beliefs. Or so I really hope.Whenever I see that message, those 4 words scrawled so quickly and innocently in blue marker, I feel the same chill, the catch of my breath and the incredulous shake of my head. A world with no religion? Who would want to imagine the tragedy of such a thing?

Victim of environment

I've come to recognize these trips to the US as one long assault on my emotional memory. I spend the time in a series of adjustments. First I am reacquainting myself with the life I lived here, the material comforts and ease of navigating about the daily business of life. I remember how to make consumer choices in stores and ignore the extraneous fluff- something my children are not as good at -becoming quickly and easily overwhelmed. I marvel at the ease of crossing streets as a pedestrian (I actually have the right of way- no need to dive into the roadside brush to escape an oncoming taxi!!) I note the developments for the disabled and elderly (buses that lower a ramp to accommodate motor driven wheelchairs and passengers that stand to make room so they can be locked safely into place) and long for that level of dignity to be brought to the African men, women and children that make their way down crowded city streets on their hands or rolling across dirt pathways because they are turned down by overflowing public transportation--no room for their clunky wheelchairs cobbed together from various bike and automobile parts.


I try to fit the pieces of my American self together as I watch commercials urging me to buy, upgrade, furnish, and acquire goods I no longer need or want. I remember wanting these things for my house, my family, myself, but I notice these parts have been shed, replaced slowly by a desire to have things for humans.

As the days turn into weeks, I begin to wonder if I can manage the two parts of myself...the two lives I am living. Naturally, the reflection moves from global to personal. Memories from my life confront me at every crossroad, tugging at emotions I'd thought had long been dealt with. I start to wonder which life is 'real,' akin to Jake embracing his Avatar self as more genuine than the body he left behind. What began as a journey of delight and wonder turns quickly into self-questioning and reminiscence as I greet old friends and reconnect with family.

But the roller coaster is far from finished. The weeks turn into a month and I begin to long for my own space, my familiar pace of life. I must prepare for the journey back and yet another metamorphosis. I must become a bit practical and think of the items we will need to make it through another year in Congo cut off from the quality supplies we can find so easily and cheaply here. It becomes more difficult to remember the things I "need" surrounded as I am by such bounty.

I begin to fear I am nothing more than a victim of my environment. Each space welcomes me with its unique version of who I am and who I could be. Each place seduces me with dreams of an existence that could satisfy my every need---needs that change and morph depending upon the exterior, needs that are defined by the environment surrounding me, needs that melt away as the scenery changes. Adaptation: a human condition that leads to as much confusion as potential solutions.