el ritmo

The dust of the day is still whirling around in my head...I feel the need to write but I can't latch on to any one specific moment. Maybe the barest and truest way to talk about it is to say that it flowed completely in rhythm with me.

It wasn't a starfish story day...there was not one particular cathartic moment. But my kids are learning my name, and I can't take a bathroom break without one of them badgering the teacher with "Where's Maggie?" I got some "one second side hug" practice (the only permissible physical contact with students) when three sweaty little athletes attacked me in the hallway after football practice. I've seen some kids reach way deep down and surprise themselves with something intuitive, hilarious, quirky or inspiring...and I can't wait to see what else is in there!



By seventh period, I'll be the first to admit that the kids don't seem like such little miracles anymore. The fluorescent ceiling lights make my eyeballs feel as if they're being slowly wrenched around in circles in their sockets. Those couple kids with the too-cool-for-school veneer have pretty much lost all my sympathy by mid afternoon. Right as my brain and my patience feel like they're liquifying into a gooey alphabet soup, some kid (today it was the perpetual pencil-tapper) will say something that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. At this point there's nothing left to do but mentally throw up my hands and surrender my(usually justified) frustration. Because deep down in the barest, truest part of myself, I know that never in my life have I been this happy.

Sin saber...

About two minutes ago I was brushing my teeth trying to figure out how I want to teach my ASH kids about oppression and prejudice. I guess I got distracted by the minty flavor because my mind wandered around to lunch today. It settled on a particular scene in which I was trying to mingle a bit with the students as they ate. At one point I sat down with two well-groomed white boys from the magnet school program and asked them the typical generic questions about their day and what they were eating for lunch, etc. They were both very polite and seemed reasonably pleased that I was sitting with them. After a few minutes, however, I decided that these two boys didn't need anything from me, so I said goodbye and wandered around a bit until I came across a cluster of overweight black and latina girls sitting off to themselves in the corner of the lunch room. "Aha!" My subconscious piped up. "These are the students that need me." So I sat down to chat.

I think what's bothering me most about this situation is that I didn't think twice about it until tonight. Here I am, Maggie the anthropologist. I think I know all about cultural relativism, oppression, hegemony and my own personal biases. And yet it took me three seconds to decide that the white, "well-mannered" magnet school boys lead completely privileged lives, while the overweight girls of color must be disadvantaged and have self-esteem issues. What's scary to me is that I arrived at all these assumptions completely subconsciously. I didn't even realize I was thinking them until ten minutes ago.

Alas, the journey has no ending...

I think this experience also raises questions about my definitions of "disadvantaged." Although I've heard otherwise a million times, I still operate on the "obvious" definitions...like poverty, unstable family life, limited English, etc. I still subconsciously see black and white as indicators of disadvantage/advantage. Perhaps now more than ever in my life, these biases I hold matter. All these assumptions and prejudices that I can't fully shake could be hindering my potential to reach the students that may need me.

So what to do? Well, I'll do better tomorrow!

En camino...otra vez!

It's been over a year since I last blogged...but now that my next adventure is well underway I can't put it off any longer. So I return here to pour out mi alma de aventura otra vez!

I'm not sure where to start. I've lived here in San Antonio for a month already...how can I possibly put all that into words? So I suppose it's best to just close my eyes, spin around, point somewhere and start there...

This past week, my fellow Corps Members and I had the last bit of training before we go into the schools full time. Although I will be the first to admit my mixed responses to the seminars, I really enjoyed some of the writing exercises. One of my goals this year is to write again...something that's fallen victim to four years of college coursework. So in the spirit of re-connecting with my words I wanted to share one of the exercises...



The little girl's name is Lily. this is the moment in which she sees herself for the first time. She is learning the limits of her body--where Lily ends and everything else begins. As she presses her miniature hand to steady herself against the mirror frame, she feels the smooth metal, hard and tepid against the peachy soft give of her fingertips. And Lily recognizes that the fingertips, the palm, the joints, the nails, the skin, and the blood pulsing beneath it is hers, and the metal frame is not.

Lily's mind begins to grasp the difference between what is foreign and what is familiar. Lily, like all children, is learning to define by difference. Just as she learns to put her hand in one category and the mirror frame in another, Lily will learn to put other things and other people into categories.

Sometimes, Lily will feel guilty about her categories, like when she learns that other people have other categories for defining the world--and for defining her. Maybe learning this will wound her. Maybe Lily will try to unravel everything she has ever learned, because she thinks that is the only way she'll find out what's True.

Until one day, Lily will realize that the categories are what make people beautiful...that the point is not to unravel, but to rejoice in the vibrant tapestry of human creation. Then Lily will know the only Truth is that our divinity lies in our ability to categorize our world. That is how we make meaning from nothing, how we define who we are and who we love. Our humanity lies in our categories...without them we would cease to be human. Without them, we would cease to be.