Eye opener

So, the history teacher across the hall from me is doing a pretty powerful demonstration on slavery today. About two minutes into the period, I started hearing two people yelling in some funky language (German, Dutch, something like that) Concerned that there were kids in the hall yelling/fighting, I went out there. It was then that I realized that the yelling was coming from the class across the hall. I shrugged and went back to my work.

A few minutes later, I went out to look again (the yelling has not let up or stopped) only to see all the kids lined up along the center of the room, laying parallel to each other on the floor. Then, I remembered; they are doing a unit on slavery. Suddenly, the screaming and awkward placement of the kids made more sense.

With this new knowledge, I was just a little jealous of the kids at my school. It is a pretty awesome demonstration; strange men come into your classroom, start yelling and giving orders in a language you do not understand. All of the sudden, you realize your teacher is nowhere to be found. Then, they start picking off the kids who are defiant or do not follow directions (directions which are given in a foreign language!). You are forced to lay practically on top of each other (all the while trying to understand the constant screaming) and then taken to another room, where you see the kids who were taken out getting "whipped." It would be an awesome day to be in an 8th grade US history class at this school.

I wish the kids in these classes would really stop and think about how powerful this demonstration could be if they let it. None of us really knows what it was like to be a slave in the 1800s. None of us can fully understand the fear and confusion, but for one 90-minute block, these kids were able to experience just a little. Hopefully, one day they will look back on this day and silently thank their teachers for the lesson they learned. Maybe they will realize that it has helped make them more compassionate, more empathetic, and just an all-around better person.

I guess that's the goal of every teacher for every child, that someday they will realize that a you had an impact on them for good. I know that I vividly remember only a few of my teachers all through school, but the teachers I do remember are the ones who cared enough to help me succeed. The ones who gave up on me because I talked a lot or gave them attitude or constantly ditched their class are gone from my memory. I am left only with the ones who pushed me even when I pushed back, who refused to let me become one more statistic. It is for those teachers that I am forever grateful.