The question seemed simple enough. “Education - I’m going to teach,” I replied. “What are you going to do?” the older man sitting across the table from me questioned again. “I’m going to teach kids in villages,” I responded, hoping this time my explanation would make sense. No such luck. He threw the question at me once more, this time with greater force. “No, what are you going to do?” By this point I was starting to get a little frustrated, as were some of the other residents sitting around the dinner table at Crossroads House. I had joined my friends from the Intervarsity Graduate Group at UNH to serve a meal at Crossroads, a transitional homeless shelter in Portsmouth, NH. As I sat down and chatted with the residents over dinner, Mr. Iditarod (I call him that b/c he was wearing a teal blue Alaska Iditarod t-shirt and he never offered his name) seemed to enjoy questioning and challenging me.
I responded to his question a third time, offering more details, hoping this seemingly educated man would be satisfied with my response: “Education – I’m going to teach in outskirts villages in Tanzania with an organization called Village Schools International.” One of the residents sitting next to him piped in “She’s going to do general education,” trying to help me out by offering Mr. Iditarod her own explanation of my response.
“No. You’re not going to teach,” he asserted with an air of authority, “You’re going to learn.” This brisk, 65 year old, salt and pepper bearded, dogmatic man continued, “Too many people go over to Africa to teach – thinking they know it all...they don’t know anything. You’re going to learn.” I wasn’t sure how to respond. I expressed some words of agreement that didn’t appease his need to expound. Mr. Iditarod proceeded to tell me – and everyone else at the dinner table who cared to listen – that I was young and naive, and an idealist. And he’s right. He’s right about a lot of things.
If 25 is young, Mr. Iditarod is right.
If being a naive idealist means, as my friend Ken says, “believing/doing the impossible in spite of ourselves,” Mr. Iditarod is right.
If teaching in Africa is more about learning (and I would argue that it is), Mr. Iditarod is right.
"If you have come here to help me, you are wasting your time,
but if you come because your liberation is bound up with mine,
then let us work together."
- Lilla Watson, Aboriginal Educator and Activist, Brisbane
- Lilla Watson, Aboriginal Educator and Activist, Brisbane
4 comments:
Mr. Iditarod is absolutely right, but he also needs to give a bit more respect to my (adopted) sister. She understands more than he realizes, and she's a humble learner, every day of her life.
If he'd listen, he'd learn something, too. ;-)
saying something profound and witty here just doesn't work... so WORD, Jen, WORD! Oh, and you forgot the worst of his cutting statements (how he responded when you said "yea, I'm getting you"). :)
Thanks for the encouragement, guys. :)
Hi~ I'm Kate's friend, and she linked your blog in a recent post so I decided to check it out. I have an Aunt who has lived in Dar Es Salaam for over 30 years. If you'd like to connect with someone who lives there, I can get you her email address. Mine is jporter@homenetnw.net. Take care~ Lisa
Post a Comment