It has been more than a year since my last attempt at writing my thoughts. Make no mistake, I do write, every f*****g day in fact. I make reports of my online queues, some papers on this and that, and oh, that reflection paper on the roadblocks to democracy in Russia. All of these however do not require my thoughts, as in “Bingkai’s thoughts”. It’s either I write like one of the bottom-feeding robots in the online planet or someone suffering from the atrocities of communism in Russia, or a beaten papist in Northern Ireland, take your pick. It’s crazy, I know. But it’s what brings my sanity back – to be able to escape the sham and drudgery of my so called life, teaching, by living on someone else’s just-bang-yourself-on-the-wall struggles.
Usually, school ends with me still hanging on, and then I come home and get recharged by everything having-a-family-around could bring.
But it is not this day! (read this line again LotR style --- like Aragorn giving his war speech at the gates of Mordor, because honestly, this is a war of some kind).
Today, the hypocrisy is too much to ignore.
Lesson: Breaking Free
The Crisis, No. 1 by Thomas Paine (yup! Thomas Paine! On a high school textbook so help us god!)
“It is the business of little minds to shrink; but he whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves his conduct, will pursue his principles unto death.”
Lesson: Methods of Paragraph Development
Self-Reliance by Ralph Waldo Emerson
…A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines. With consistency a great soul has simply nothing to do. He may as well concern himself with his shadow on the wall. Speak what you think now in hard words, and to-morrow speak what to-morrow thinks in hard words again, though it contradicts everything you said to-day. — 'Ah, so you shall be sure to be misunderstood.' — Is it so bad, then, to be misunderstood? Pythagoras was misunderstood, and Socrates, and Jesus, and Luther, and Copernicus, and Galileo, and Newton, and every pure and wise spirit that ever took flesh. To be great is to be misunderstood.
… Man is timid and apologetic; he is no longer upright; he dares not say 'I think,' 'I am,' but quotes some saint or sage. He is ashamed before the blade of grass or the blowing rose. These roses under my window make no reference to former roses or to better ones; they are for what they are; they exist with God to-day. There is no time to them. There is simply the rose; it is perfect in every moment of its existence.
The question on how to reconcile between what I teach and what my students should learn has bothered me like a plague for years. Should I marvel at their budding radical views or cut it from the roots? Now that being a complete doormat is generally considered mature, and doing what is right has become downright wrong, should I let my students develop logical opinion and character at the price of being misunderstood, and shunned, and wronged?
Should I teach the ideals, make sure they live on, make sacrificial lambs of these eager minds…or should I teach them how to feign affection, kiss someone’s arse, and just every obvious how-to’s on surviving reality?
Should I teach both? Be eclectic. Be normal. Be less complicated. But where and when should I draw the line? Because if everything ideal is wrong and peripheral, for what reason am I teaching? I don’t care about promotions. Or positions. Or grades. Or praises. For some odd, unexplainable reasons, I never really cared about things people shove down my throat. Like every f*****g day. Not that I don’t care about anything… I sure care about my nail polish, and sleeping on fresh linens, and having time to eat breakfast twice, and finding balance between family and work.
I care about growing as a person.
I care about being happy at what I do.
I care about doing what I love.
True. How I weeded my life of toadies and toxics this year and what TRULY happened in Tate in March, I admit to not have addressed them, not even the lies.
I see no reason to.
In fact I find it funny when people use the “she’s maldita jud” argument on the table whenever they try to cover the fact that they fucked up or too scared to admit they’re wrong.
I always believe that a maldita’s strength lies in being right. Oh, you don’t mess with us when we are right (take pity on yourself). When we’re right, we kill (well, at least not LITERALLY in my case…geez). But get the gist? When we’re not doing anything wrong, you can’t just stomp at our foot and not expect a little interjection to say the least because I’ll say ouch alright, with at least three !!! to cross my point.
Why shouldn’t I?
I’m pretty sure that in my deathbed, it’s not work, or promotion, or those antagonists who’d matter. It’ll be me. My life. And how I made the most of it by creating something – something more lasting, more important. I trust teaching to do that. I’m just really hoping I’d endure it longer.