It’s not like me to shy away from controversy so every night this past week I have had a discussion with my family about Park 51. There have been points made and arguments discussed. I could link to them, but I won’t. But I’m reading a lot.
It’s already all been said so far.
Today, my feelings are all about the Constitution. It is unconstitutional to deny the builders from putting up a community center. It’s also unconstitutional for Governor Paterson to suggest that an alternative to it would be to give them land elsewhere on which to build. Really, Gov? Because I think you’re opening up a whole new can of worms when other religious institutions come knocking on your door for free land. It got so weary for me this week after debating the issue with friends (ok, so it was via Facebook WHATEVER it still ended up being a really good discussion) that my status yesterday on Facebook was simply the First Amendment:
Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.
What I’ve read for this whole week about it consists of my daily news readings, political contributions, and what the rest of the world is saying about the United States. When Mason asked me about it he did so in typical teenage fashion.
“Mom, what’s up with this whole mosque issue in New York City?”
He could tell by the weariness in my voice and the sigh on my lips that I’d been thinking about it, too. We had been discussing it at dinners and at bedtime and whenever it came up on television or the radio or in the newspaper or online. He’s getting it. And that’s really just a part of my job as a parent, is it not? To teach and educate and teach some more. Well, maybe that last part is an overlap of my career choice.
Early on in my career I quit teaching public school because I wanted a varied experience. For four years I taught at a small, private Christian school and that is where I met a great philosopher who also happened to be a janitor. Allen cleaned my room and we met one night and had the most fascinating conversation that it lead to to a phenomenal friendship until he died from cancer years later. (I’ve written about him on my blog before so you can check the archives if you’re so interested.) But I tried desperately to fit in with the teachers and with the church that was attached to the building. At times, it worked and I felt accepted but it seemed that reminders of my being different and definitely NOT like others led me to finally break off and grow up and do my own thing.
But not before I allowed Allen to come to my classroom during the day (he was the nighttime janitor) and teach my class. He read poetry with them and my little 6th graders asked him questions and while he waxed philosophical about things the subject of religion came up and he answered just as I would have him do: honestly. Allen didn’t like to use the term “God” because “Alice” was a prettier name. He didn’t believe in the devil, either, but suggested that it was a man-made manifestation that helped us place blame.
The week after he visited my classroom one of the other teachers told on me (are we adults or what?) for having such blasphemy and un-Christianlike attitudes be on display in this Christian school. In hindsight this was, for me, one of the last straws that made it impossible for me to reconcile the fact that I was using MY OWN BRAIN FOR INTELLECTUAL PURPOSES and the beliefs of the school. I was called into the office with a school board member (also an elder of the church) and questioned about my intentions and what I was hoping to do with opposing viewpoints on their Christian doctrine.
“So, I can’t teach opposing viewpoints? We’re not supposed to let children see another side of things? The authoritative dogma is never to be questioned?”
My questions went largely unanswered. I quit teaching there and Allen became one of the few links I still had to the place. The kids I taught were great. It was the overbearing poor behavior of the adults that made me want to leave.
Yesterday I was thinking back on that story as I was reflecting on something said to me about the Muslim religion. In my lifetime I have gladly attended a Jewish temple, different Christian churches, and a meeting of the Baha’i faith. I was thinking this as I left my house and waved to my Muslim neighbor across the street and smiled at her. The teacher in me wondered how much more I could know.
My mom’s got a brother named Jim who is, by far, the best read person I know. Mom talks about him in reverence and with much respect as he is a man who once read Salman Rushdie’s The Satanic Verses when it was released when the rest of the world seemed to be shunning it out of fear, ignorance, and there were often violent protests due to the fatwa placed on him by Ayotollah Khomeini. I remember this vividly because it was the year I was graduating high school and I was aghast as what he could have possibly written to attract such attention. Here I was just starting out in the world as an adult taking my little 3 year old daughter with me and I was filled with fear.
I have since gotten over that.
As I was traveling around town for work I saw a building that made me pull over. I parked in the lot and sat there for a good 5 minutes wondering what I was going to say. It was the Islamic Society of Greater Springfield. When I went in I met Syed who listened as I stammered out that I am a mom and a former teacher and current assistant principal and I was worried, so very worried about this ridiculous debate that isn’t so much about rights or the constitution but about feelings and holy cow, if ever I understand the feelings thing it’s when I see things like the Confederate flag being bandied about, and oh, I grew up mixed in a Catholic family and my children are of many shades and I’m seeking information because I hate to regurgitate stuff that I hear from people but don’t read with my own eyes and SERIOUSLY, but I really do like to use my own brain and not hand over the keys to my sensibilities or politics to someone else and yes, I know I’m a woman who just came in off the street and you must think I’m a little bit neurotic…
It went on like that. Syed smiled. He knew I was there to learn. When I stopped babbling on in that run-on sentence I simply said, “I am here to learn.”
He gave me the name of a woman who would be happy to talk to me further and handed me an English translation of the Koran. He said to keep it. Syed also gave me 15 videos that might be helpful as I’m learning and asked that I please return them to him. But he didn’t even write down my name or ask to document just which 15 videos he gave me. He handed them over gladly, said that it was prayer time, and I shook his hand and left.
What I wish right now is that the mouthpieces of America would be in the process of learning. Not shouting or screaming or writing protest signs. Not telling me what I should believe or that I am stupid for agreeing that a community center can be built where they have planned. Not talking about of both sides of their mouths.
Whatever prayers come from my lips are this: Please let me learn. Please let me teach my children. Please let there be peace.
{ 21 comments… read them below or add one }
Hear, hear.
What a wonderful reflection.
Ah, so **this** is hope. I like it. The most important quality of one who seeks to educate others is their desire to learn. You are an example for others. I’m glad to know you.
(This is the reason people like us can’t be politicians. We feel the need to substantiate things before they come out of our mouths.)
Thank you for you prayer. May more people think like you.
I want to be like you when I grow up. You are amazing!
I wanted to go to an elementary school & check it out when I was in Japan. I wasn’t brave enough to knock on the door & ask to be let in. I regret that.
Thank you. Now maybe I can . . .
The overall notion of being able to swallow one’s pride, fears and security in the name of “I want to learn” has been very dear to me throughout the years.
I went to a Jewish school from kindergarten through high school. My family had brought me up with a very solid Jewish background. I interacted mostly with Jewish people, but there were a few who were not. But I never felt like we had enough in common to dialogue about our religious differences.
When I started college at a large, public university (which also has a sizable Jewish population), I started immersing myself in other groups and became the “Jewish friend.” Not that there weren’t other Jewish people around; I just happened to express more of the traditions and culture outwardly than many of my Jewish peers.
I remember one day when I was asked a specific question about being Jewish — one which based itself on a rumor that my friend had heard from another friend. That rumor about Jewish people which he asked about wasn’t true, and I told him so. But his comfort level asking me the question was of paramount importance. Here we were, friends who had talked about so much else, and he had been walking on eggshells as not to personally offend me and upset the balance in some way. I let him know that I don’t offend easily — and especially not when people are asking legitimate questions.
And it made me realize: _I_ had held back as well. For similar reasons. Because I didn’t want to sound insensitive or ignorant when asking questions of those different from me. Of course — not a problem if anyone were to ask me these things; i don’t get offended easily. But somehow I assumed that…
… wait a sec. What if _they_ also don’t offend so easily? Maybe then I could engage them in dialogue?
And so I did. I have been. I’ve been doing better since then, trying to understand people of different religions, cultures, sexual orientations, races and political affiliations. I can’t say I’ve mastered the skill. I certainly have a ways to go. But I honestly feel that we need to cease silencing ourselves when we yearn to learn more simply because we think that silence will be the more peaceful alternative.
I hope more people want to learn. And ask to learn.
Wonderful post.
Everything I want to say here is very fan girlish and little more than ecstatic agreements, but…
well…
I just wanted you to know I liked this.
Well said. Now how do we motivate others to learn?? Or even be open to learning?
I’m not at all surprised that comments here are civil. Thank you for that. Maybe I should close them in a week or so, but we’ll see.
The only answer I have to motivating others to learn is to be a learner myself. I can’t control anything else.
Thanks, y’all.
xoxo
Love it!! I am always wanting to learn. I learn more from reading stuff that I know I won’t agree with than reading the stuff I know I will support.
Also not all Christian schools are like that, I even wrote in my blog post yesterday about my science teacher that taught many many different theories of the origin of the universe and let us decide what to believe.
It is a challenge for me each semester to encourage my students in the deep, conservative, Southern Baptist South to keep their minds open…for other options, for other points of view, for new ideas. There isn’t a standardized, bubblized answer for everything. Even those who profess Christianity (I am one of those) astound me with their unwillingness to love others…if Christ, the man upon whom we base our faith was able to open His heart and mind to others, then why can’t the rest of us?
Of course, they crucifed Him.
Kelly, I love that you went there to learn and that you are learning. I, too, want to learn. And I love the comments on this post.
I am so glad I work at a Christian school that supports my efforts to teach my kids about multiple viewpoints. For one thing, they won’t do very well out in the real world if they have no idea why they “believe” what they claim to believe, and no idea what the other beliefs are in the world. And more importantly, how can we expect anyone to really genuinely follow a faith if they’re only doing it because it’s the only option they know of? G.I. Joe taught me long ago that “knowing is half the battle,” and I pass that on to my students whenever I can. Even though they have no idea who G.I. Joe is because their generation didn’t have any of the good cartoons. But that’s a totally different issue.
Why is it that every janitor I’ve come across is either Freddy Kreuger in the making or Willy from The Simpsons? I never find the wise old ones.
Wow. Good for you.
I grew up Muslim, and while I am not an adherent to any religion now, I still identify as that because . . . well, because it’s what I knew. My parents each were raised in separate subsets of Islam and we were raised in both, but I don’t feel as if I have blanket knowledge of anything. I don’t practice anymore, except to not eat pork [except bacon, because seriously? BACON.], but I don’t demand that everyone else do the same. I respect people’s faith because that’s a very personal thing.
I know what I was taught and what I’ve read in the Koran and the bible and random other religious texts and it never ceases to surprise me that people refuse to acknowledge that, at base, it’s all the same: Be kind. If everyone managed that little bit, I’d feel a lot better about the world today.
Short version: I adore you.
Long version: I grew up overseas. Christian, to be sure (my parents were missionaries), but never close-minded. My father would not have allowed it. Every time we drove to the beach for vacation we would stop at a Sikh temple for the best Indian food in the region and the cleanest bathrooms on the journey. The food was free… a gift for the travelers on the road. My father the Southern Baptist minister always, without reservation, stopped by the temple office and left a large donation as we returned to our car. This was how I was raised. Growing up I had, and still have, friends who are Muslim (and Hindu and Jewish and Atheist, etc.). My biggest source of frustration in this debate is those who blatantly choose ignorance over enlightenment.
Thank you for choosing education over hearsay and letting everyone know that you made such a choice.
The most important quality of one who seeks to educate others is their desire to learn. You are an example for others. I’m glad to know you.
If only we could get more people to do the same. Fear of the unknown only divides people.
Thanks for being honest, as always.
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