True Thanksgiving
I have little sympathy for Americans wining. Including my own. We have so much to be thankful for; we know so little of what true pain is.
Today I had a glimpse of the suffering that ignorance has wraugt on much of the world. One of my adult students, who I will call Mr. Hendi, was a teacher in Sierra Leone. He lived there during their cival war. I had always guessed that he had lived through deeper attrocities than should ever be made upon anyone, but I had never really talked with him about it. Today, I was correcting some of his work, and I asked him about his past. He told me he was a history teacher in Sierra Leone. He said that all the men in the village were brought into a house, and the rebels asked where the women were. The men of the village had hidden all the women, and told the rebels that they didn't know where the women were. Unfortunately the rebels searched the house, and found them, and raped several of them, right there and then.
As punishment the rebels were going to cut a hand off from each of the men, but as they were about to start, one of the rebels who hadn't yet entered the house, came in and recognized Mr. Hendi. The new rebel shouted "Stop! That is my teacher" Even in the darkness of the hearts of these men, who would normally have had not a qualm, and in fact would have taken joy from their ignorant power, stopped. The new rebel respected Mr. Hendi, and saved his hand and possibly saved his life. It was then, as Mr. Hendi told me, that he realized teaching was truly a noble vocation.
On this Thanksgiving week, I feel so thankful that the only horrors I have seen have been on TV or in my imagination. We are the fortunate, and that is truly worth our thanks, and worth our effort to help bring this fortune to those who still suffer in the darkness of ignorance and violence. That is why I am a teacher.
Today I had a glimpse of the suffering that ignorance has wraugt on much of the world. One of my adult students, who I will call Mr. Hendi, was a teacher in Sierra Leone. He lived there during their cival war. I had always guessed that he had lived through deeper attrocities than should ever be made upon anyone, but I had never really talked with him about it. Today, I was correcting some of his work, and I asked him about his past. He told me he was a history teacher in Sierra Leone. He said that all the men in the village were brought into a house, and the rebels asked where the women were. The men of the village had hidden all the women, and told the rebels that they didn't know where the women were. Unfortunately the rebels searched the house, and found them, and raped several of them, right there and then.
As punishment the rebels were going to cut a hand off from each of the men, but as they were about to start, one of the rebels who hadn't yet entered the house, came in and recognized Mr. Hendi. The new rebel shouted "Stop! That is my teacher" Even in the darkness of the hearts of these men, who would normally have had not a qualm, and in fact would have taken joy from their ignorant power, stopped. The new rebel respected Mr. Hendi, and saved his hand and possibly saved his life. It was then, as Mr. Hendi told me, that he realized teaching was truly a noble vocation.
On this Thanksgiving week, I feel so thankful that the only horrors I have seen have been on TV or in my imagination. We are the fortunate, and that is truly worth our thanks, and worth our effort to help bring this fortune to those who still suffer in the darkness of ignorance and violence. That is why I am a teacher.