EDU Prosetry

They say the world changed that day
But did it really?
Millions screamed in awe and agony
at the changing face of democracy
but still others in parts of the country
were denied the humanity
and the ability to fall in love
Marry
Grow old with
Raise a family
and die in the arms of the one
They called husband or wife just because
their marriage did not consist of both
They say the world changed that day….
Did it really?
Cause still across the sea
Families cry in broken lands
Full of pain and misery

Caused by men whose skin

Is the same

The world had changed yet

Unjust Wars are still being fought,

Air is turning sour and unfit for breathing,

Empty tummies fall asleep

Not on cotton sheets

But cold concrete that offer

Pillows for dreams of better days

The world has changed

But little old white ladies

Write jokes on paper napkins

Of Aunt Jemima holding a chicken wing

Replacing the Statue of Liberty

Because their democracy has been tainted

And little seven year old girls bleed infection

Because their mama’s can’t afford

The price of recovery

And

A boy is charged with the killing of his father

And the Congo cries out
Flooding leaves kill many and leave

thousands homeless in Brazil
Teen gets 4 life terms for racist murders in South Africa
Deadly bomb attacks hit Baghdad

In this changing world

The world is changing

Slowly and yet still so much remains the same

I.

I had this dream

An Idea of mine

Through the water, through the sea

A quicker way to get my queen money

Look, see, all around

Were Unknown trees and Unknown ground

Dark skin

Hair long and straight

Language not of men but of apes

I took a step and a breath

And claimed the soil beneath me

We took them all

NOT as a friend

but as gifts for King Ferdanand

They were no match for the fight

Although they fought with all of their might

We searched this place

Sought the treasures untold

Looked for jewels and gold

We brought them sickness, ailments, and sin

All because we were true Christians

We raped their women and butchered their men

Casualties of war they were for me

But money, success, and fortune for your future economy

Years later I will be praised by thee as

One of the mightiest men of history

But at that time in my life I did not find

the favor of the queen to be mine

II.

Strange People all Around

Out of the water out of the sea

Strange People…

Not at all like me

Their skin was pale

Their hair was white

They smelled of things not quite right

We had no gold

Save the corn

We had no treasure but land in which we were born

17 ships

And an army galore

Guns, swords, dogs tearing flesh from skin

Tears shed, cries for help

We summoned for the God’s within

SLowly, slowly as I looked around

Not a friendly face was to be found

The places I once rest and called my home

Are now graves tainted by blood soon to be forgotten and unknown

The memories of this despair and unrest

Will become fables and legends at best

Indians we have come to be

Not Taino, Blackfoot, or Cherokee

Our history forgotten by those who have sworn

Americans, The true Americans They claim to be born

Serene Being

I am still afraid. The fear seems to be getting worse, but the passion I have for wanting to teach is growing. At the end of this week my fellow cohorts, professors, and I spent some time together at one of the most beautiful places I have ever been. Before I delve into this retreat and why it heightened my since of fear I am going to take the moment to explain the name of the place.

 It is called Serenbe. This word is a combination of two very important words to me: serenity and be. The reason these words are important is because I am on a quest to find the moment in life where I am serene and can just be…I am in search of true freedom. I believe that becoming a teacher will aid me in my quest in reaching that point. I believe this because in learning how to teach children and in challenging what I have learned about life and the world over the course of my academic career, I learn more about myself.

At Serenbe the quest to learn more about myself continued. I know I want to teach. However, it was here that I realized that I am still not doing enough. There is only so much one individual can do…however, I feel I can be doing more. During the retreat there was a workshop presentation done by Michael and Jessy Melina. They work with an organization called QECR: Quality Education as a Constitutional Right. This organization is fighting to get an amendment added into the constitution that will ensure that all children have the right to a quality education. In their fight for this, the organization is trying to define what the idea of a quality education entails.

During their presentation a video was shown about a demonstration that took place in Annapolis, Maryland. The demonstrators were part of a group called Algebra, an affiliate of QECR. A member of this organization was killed by someone who dropped out of school. The demonstrators concluded that the lack of education causes there to be no life. Maryland was awarded a large amount of money to be issued to the public schools; however, this money was never issued. The demonstrators were demanding that the money be issued to the schools in order to better the quality of education which in turn will aid to end the cycle of death.

Watching this video I found myself trying to hold back tears. Partly because I was embarrassed that I was the only person getting teary eyed, but more importantly I found myself holding back tears because I was not doing more. I feel there is so much I could be doing. It is one thing to talk about change but it is another to take real action. I felt moved by these young students taking a stand! I felt motivated! I am motivated.

But where do I begin? How can I start to become more active when I barely have time to do my homework?  Having real conversations about real issues is one way. Through conversation with my peers I learn more. For example, at the retreat we had a discussion about a chapter in the Steinberg book The Ethnic Myth. The chapter is entitled “The Ignominious Origins of Ethnic Pluralism in America”.  Steinberg writes about the ugly, nasty, and often ignored parts of America’s racial history. In reading the chapter I learned new things, painful things about the Trail of Tears and other events that shaped the United States. The question that seems to be the root of our discussion is: Why is history not being taught truthfully in schools? Why is it being water downed and condensed into something that is more palatable. History in schools is like sugar added to medicine…it is necessary but must taste good going down.

During this conversation I kept reviewing my experiences with the teaching of history. What I found to be a consistent is that teachers often taught history in a way to be considerate of their own feelings and the feelings of the students in the classroom. But this is the problem! History, in my opinion needs to be taught more like a science. The facts need to be presented and the opportunity given to students to form their own opinions about these facts. History happened and what actually happened, no matter how painful, needs to be taught in schools.

The teaching of real history is an act of activism. Like the students who demonstrated in Annapolis, a teacher who teaches the truth is ensuring a quality education and ending the cycle of death.

Knowing this causes fear in me. The reason being is because I wonder how I will respond. Do I have the courage to teach the truth even if that means risking being reprimanded?  What if in doing so I have to risk my job as a teacher? Will I still be able to stand up for what is right?  I like to think I have the coverage to…however I am afraid of what I will actually do.