On Peace in Israel and Lebanon (Or, I saw it with my own eyes)

I have a unique opportunity in my profession, which is to rule upon high over my own miniature version of the UN. Okay, so I’m really only an ESL instructor and it's really only a classroom of students from all over the world, but as the professor, I wield my authority respectfully and with great appreciation for what I, too, can learn from my students. Take Israel and Lebanon, for example.

I’m not talking about the nations here but rather of two students in one of my classes – both beautiful, intelligent, and outspoken young women who sit near each other and are, therefore, often made to work together when we do small group activities. They are both worldly women in their own ways: Israel is born of Persian and Libyan parents, while Lebanon is a professional ballet dancer who has lived in Paris. Today in class, they were put together with Nicaragua (another lovely and not-so-shy girl) and Colombia (an attractive and reserved middle-aged woman).

During the activity, these four women made up only one group out of five, but watching them gave me the most food for thought. The activity required the students to work together to rearrange items on a list and divide them into main points and supporting details – a task that would easily eat up 20 minutes of class time. Colombia gracefully sat back as Nicaragua, Israel, and Lebanon strongly but civilly debated the various options.

Israel saw things one way, Lebanon saw things another way (they both were correct), and Nicaragua disagreed with both of them as she firmly and rather confidently stated her position. So adamant was she (and so wrong as it turned out) that Lebanon could only sit back and shake her head, waiting for the opportunity to prove Nicaragua wrong. Israel kindly tried to tell Nicaragua where her reasoning had lost its footing while Colombia opted out of the debate, and it was during that moment I noticed a glint of respect in Lebanon’s eyes. She knew she and Israel were right even though they saw the situation differently, and I think she was proud of the way Israel was trying to logically argue the point, which was a challenge given Nicaragua’s dramatic facial expressions. Israel and Lebanon never teamed up against Nicaragua; they seemed to understand that some battles just aren’t worth fighting...which is when I asked myself why their home countries can’t see things as clearly.

Yes, this is an oversimplification of real-world dilemmas, but for a moment, Lebanon and Israel were on the same page albeit through different viewpoints, and with nothing more than a glance, this was understood. I imagined Lebanon and Israel (who never talk to each other apart from these forced exercises) going out for coffee after class and reveling in their newfound commonality.

Eventually, though, I had to burst Nicaragua’s bubble (because I wasn’t sure how patient Lebanon would really be – she was actually sighing deeply) and tell her she was completely off track. She took it like a trooper and openly listened to Lebanon explain the point. All the while, Israel’s bright smile told Lebanon that she concurred even if she would have expressed it differently.

As we discussed the activity as a class, all eyes turned to the board, where I was outlining the final results, and I felt a bit sad. I wished I could have prolonged the group activity so I could fool myself into believing there was hope in the world simply because two young ladies of such different philosophies had found a common ground. With all that’s going on in Egypt, Tunisia, and North Africa and the Middle East in general, the ESL classroom seems the only safe place for these nations to come together. I’m proud to be part of that, and I will go to sleep tonight thinking about Israel and Lebanon and dreaming about their newfound friendship. I know these girls said nothing to each other when class ended, but it’s my dream. And it all has to start somewhere, doesn’t it?

On NOT Passing the Buck (Or, You'd think after 19 years I'd have this thing down pat)

I need you, my blogfriends. I need to vent about the "other" career I have - the one they pay me for. I'm an ESL professor, and I'm presently feeling less than professor-like.

A couple of days ago, I gave my grammar students their final exam - a composition meant to demonstrate that they've learned all their grammar and are ready to move onto the next level, Advanced Composition.

But they are not. Most of them are barely squeaking by. And I am ashamed.

Many of my colleagues in this situation would start by blaming the students as being pig-headed and lazy about thinking while they write. Others would remind me that they can't all be successes. After all, many of these people would never have been eligible for a university career in their home country, but ours is a community college with doors open to all.

But I don't buy it. I've always taken responsibility for my actions, and I feel these guys are failing because of me. If I vent about this to my colleagues (the ones whose opinions I respect and who I think are on my side), they'll surely act more as cheerleader than constructive critic. So what's a girl to do?

I know that quite a few of my followers out there are teachers. If any of you teach grammar and/or composition, I'd love to hear some of your teaching tips. I've been doing this since 1991 (a time before many of you could write your own decent paragraphs), yet I know I can still learn so much from others.

To my readers who are not teachers, you may still have good advice since most of you are writers. My eyes and ears are open to you all. And I thank you in advance. Mwah!

On Rendering Me Speechless (Or, I must have done something good)

Happy Monday to you all! Before I start today's scheduled entry, I must first give thanks and toot my own horn (which is really what today's post was about anyway)...

First thanks: To Lola at Sharp Pen/Dull Sword for giving me the Butterfly Award.

Despite the grammatical error in the award's description (no fault of Lola's, I'm sure), it is an honor. I know we're supposed to pass these awards on, but since this one is not specific (like awards for commenting, or creativity, or humor, etc.), I choose not to single anyone out as being the coolest blog on my blogroll. I chose to follow you ALL for a reason.

Now for tooting (my horn, silly): I'VE HIT 50 FOLLOWERS! Strangely enough, I never had the goal of having a bunch of followers because I feel obligated to follow everyone back, and I'm not that good of a multi-tasker. Still, I'm thrilled. And in true going-against-the-grain spirit, I will not hold a contest. (Mostly because I have nothing good to give away right now.)

Instead I will ask those who comment on this post to include a made-up definition of the word verification "word" that appears when you respond. I will include these in my next post as part of the New Blogger Dictionary, co-authored by Wendy Ramer and her followers. Sound like fun? I hope so.

OK, time for a post...so here we go. 

Last Thursday was a remarkable day. I'm only posting about it now because I had already prepared a post for that day. So here's my story.

It all started when my nine-year-old daughter came down the stairs, presumably to have breakfast and get ready for school. Instead, the first words out of her mouth were a series of questions fired off one after the other:

"Why do all living things have to die?
Why can't they live forever?
Why do some people live longer than others?
Why do some medicines work on some people but not on others?"

Oy! Now I know why my mother always drank coffee first thing in the morning...so she could deal with the myriad of out-of-left-field questions I must have thrown at her. Since my daughter is very much like me, I suddenly realize the steamroller effect I must have had on my mother.

Anyway, I was speechless. So before tackling my daughter's questions, I asked her a much simpler one: "What's on your mind, sweetie?"

Turns out she was thinking about our cat, Pluto, who died about a year ago at the tender age of four.

Diabetes had suddenly attacked his system, and within one month - despite immediate vetinerary care and insulin - his organs shut down completely. Since my daughter doesn't believe in God (see past post: On Coexisting), all her questions were thrown at me. And despite my bumbling answers, my daughter seemed content and a bit more relaxed. I felt I handled the whole thing rather well...for not being God, that is.

I went to work feeling quite proud of myself. I had no idea that my ego had much more inflating to go through until one of my students answered the following question (to practice Unreal Conditionals in Grammar class): If you could have another person's brain, whose brain would you want?

The first student chose Abraham Lincoln and followed up with her valid reasons. Then came the guy I will now affectionately refer to as Golden Boy, who said, "If I could have another person's brain, I would choose yours, Professor."

Oh me, oh my! I was momentarily rendered speechless for the second time in the same day, and I'm sure I also blushed. Finally, I composed myself and asked why.

The answer? (Keep in mind this is a class of second language learners - ESL - so their priorities may surprise the average student.) "Because you are intelligent, funny, and you speak very well."

But you forgot beautiful and a remarkably talented writer. Still, I was touched. And once again speechless.

To finish it all off, when I picked my daughter up from school, she hugged me (unsolicited!) and told me I was a good mommy. If you understood how infrequently I receive such praise from said daughter, you would appreciate how I found myself speechless for the fourth (and, thank God, final) time that day.

I'm not sure what I've done lately to deserve such accolades, but in the words of Julie Andrews from The Sound of Music, Somewhere in my youth or childhood, I must have done something good.