Monday, April 13, 2009

Back to the Bus

On the morning that we boarded the charter buses for Cape May, Leila made it a point to sit next to me. With ten days left in the school year, I guess she figured it was now or never if she wanted to mend our friendship.

I recognized that it took a lot of courage to approach the wounded me: It could have been very unpleasant, but it wasn't. We passed the seven hours in polite small talk. In fact, the thing I remember most about our conversation on that trip was when she told me about a new TV show that she and her husband were hooked on. "You would really like it, Tracey. It's called Survivor." It took her a few minutes to explain the premise of the show... reality TV was in its infancy, and I had never heard of these strangers marooned, by choice, evidently, on a deserted island in the Pacific.

She was right. I did like the show-- the mixture of conniving, false alliances, physical strength, and sheer force of will was riveting. I still watch today, although I confess that there comes a point in every season where I declare my hatred for the show and its premise, and I swear I'll never watch again. It's ageist. It's sexist. It's racist. Contestants are forever getting their feelings bruised by others who excuse their hurtful behavior by insisting that it's just a game or that there are a million reasons why they've done what they have. There's no such thing as trust in Survivor. It's not fair. It never turns out the way I want it to. Still, I watch.

I think one of my strengths as a teacher is in recognizing a good lesson when I see it. Websites, books, presentations, professional development, you name it, if there's half a good idea there, I can find the value in it, adapt it, and use it to help my students learn.

Here's where this story ends: We got off the bus in the warm, golden light of an early June evening. Tired and happy, our students dispersed like seeds from a dandelion, floating across the parking lot to their waiting parents, murmurs on the breeze about the trip, the ship, the ocean, the dolphins, all the things they would never forget. A few days later, Leila cleaned out her classroom and moved her stuff to her new school.

2 comments:

  1. Some of your phrasing makes my heart ache: "...seven hours in polite small talk" and "the warm, golden light of an early June evening."

    I, who subscribe to the "change is good" mentality, have left without thinking of the people who remain, and my reasons for leaving have often been entirely selfish.

    Tracey - this is a powerful testament to your committment to your students, your team, your beliefs, and to our school.

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  2. Ditto Ellen.

    I'm impressed by your metaphor of the Survivor show to illuminate the drudgery and skullduggery of teaching, of school politics, of teams and non-teams and even team divorce.

    Eloquent series, thoughtfully written.
    Thanks,
    Elizabeth
    http://peninkpaper.blogspot.com/

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