Saw this in deadboydex's journal... Thought it was mildly thought-provoking...
He apparently got it from another list he's on....
--
From: "Chris Tremlett"
Subject: The View From Here
Date: Wed, 12 Sep 2001 22:01:58 +0400
(I'm mailing this to anyone and everyone I have contact with. Feel free to pass it on if you think someone needs to read it, so long as you keep my name with it)
The View From Here
5:00 pm, Wednesday, September 12th, 2001.
I walked into my classroom this morning, and found a room full of
scared, worried young women. Classes have only barely started for
this semester, so my students didn't know me that well yet. As soon
as I came in, they asked, "Are you from America?" When I said yes,
they asked if I had friends or family in Washington or New York. I
told them I had friends in Washington, but they were alright. I said I'd been awake until three am, to make sure everyone was safe.
And then we just sat and talked. Forget the lesson plans, and
getting into the meat of the semester. Today wasn't a day for
teaching. The quiz, the editing and the research guidelines just
didn't matter today.
Being a teacher, part of my job is to help my students make sense of the world. Since my students are University age, at that stage where one minute they are mature young adults and the next minute children, I'm here to help guide them as they sort out their worlds for themselves - along with teaching the subject matter in my class description, of course.
How can I help them make sense of this when I can't make sense of it myself? I'm in just as much shock as they are. I want someone to
say it's alright, just like they do. Nothing in this is
straightforward. All the emotions are complex. Relief that my own
family and friends are safe combined with worry for those whose
aren't, or remain unknown.
The most striking emotional cocktail of this for me is the
reassurance and heartbreak at how desperately my students want this
not to have been done by Arabs.
You see, I teach in the Middle East. All those young women who are
my students are Arabs. Muslims. I've seen and heard of people in
the US saying "Damn Arabs" or "Damn Muslims" or "Damn Middle
Easterners". That, and worse.
To some of you, Arabs may be nameless and faceless, counted as
suspicious or dangerous. Easy to blame. To me, Arabs are my
students and their families. Arabs are as diverse a group as any
other. Hating them all would be like hating all Europeans for the
atrocities in Kosovo or Serbia. Let me make them less faceless for
you.
My students are young women. Like University students anywhere,
they're worried about grades and exams, about course requirements and majors, and, of course, about juggling their classwork with their social lives. They have dreams and plans, about their careers, about marriage and family, about places they'd like to travel to. They may dress differently than a group of women the same age in the US, but underneath the shayla and abaya, they're not very different at all.
Today, they're in shock. They're worried about war. They're
concerned about their relatives who are in the States. They remember the Gulf War, and they're afraid this will be so much worse. Our University is near an airport. Normally, they just ignore the planes as they take off and land. Either they pause until the sound has died down, or try to talk over it. Today, they flinched. I've never seen the planes make them nervous before.
They're horrified by the attacks on the United States. While they
are angry that the US appears to support Israel, they cannot accept
what has happened. My students do not celebrate this, nor do they
take it lightly. They say it is harram - forbidden by religion. The
deaths of so many innocents can never be acceptable. Not for any
reason.
My students are still learning English. They had to struggle,
sometimes, to express themselves. They know how to talk about
classes and majors. They know the vocabulary for the lives of
University students. They don't have the words for the deaths of
innocents. I find it tragic that they had to learn the word
"innocent" under such appalling circumstances.
I can no more make sense of this for you, or for myself, than I could for my students. All I can do is pray for the victims, and pray for Peace.
Chris Tremlett
English Language Center
College of Arts and Sciences
Zayed University
Dubai, UAE
He apparently got it from another list he's on....
--
From: "Chris Tremlett"
Subject: The View From Here
Date: Wed, 12 Sep 2001 22:01:58 +0400
(I'm mailing this to anyone and everyone I have contact with. Feel free to pass it on if you think someone needs to read it, so long as you keep my name with it)
The View From Here
5:00 pm, Wednesday, September 12th, 2001.
I walked into my classroom this morning, and found a room full of
scared, worried young women. Classes have only barely started for
this semester, so my students didn't know me that well yet. As soon
as I came in, they asked, "Are you from America?" When I said yes,
they asked if I had friends or family in Washington or New York. I
told them I had friends in Washington, but they were alright. I said I'd been awake until three am, to make sure everyone was safe.
And then we just sat and talked. Forget the lesson plans, and
getting into the meat of the semester. Today wasn't a day for
teaching. The quiz, the editing and the research guidelines just
didn't matter today.
Being a teacher, part of my job is to help my students make sense of the world. Since my students are University age, at that stage where one minute they are mature young adults and the next minute children, I'm here to help guide them as they sort out their worlds for themselves - along with teaching the subject matter in my class description, of course.
How can I help them make sense of this when I can't make sense of it myself? I'm in just as much shock as they are. I want someone to
say it's alright, just like they do. Nothing in this is
straightforward. All the emotions are complex. Relief that my own
family and friends are safe combined with worry for those whose
aren't, or remain unknown.
The most striking emotional cocktail of this for me is the
reassurance and heartbreak at how desperately my students want this
not to have been done by Arabs.
You see, I teach in the Middle East. All those young women who are
my students are Arabs. Muslims. I've seen and heard of people in
the US saying "Damn Arabs" or "Damn Muslims" or "Damn Middle
Easterners". That, and worse.
To some of you, Arabs may be nameless and faceless, counted as
suspicious or dangerous. Easy to blame. To me, Arabs are my
students and their families. Arabs are as diverse a group as any
other. Hating them all would be like hating all Europeans for the
atrocities in Kosovo or Serbia. Let me make them less faceless for
you.
My students are young women. Like University students anywhere,
they're worried about grades and exams, about course requirements and majors, and, of course, about juggling their classwork with their social lives. They have dreams and plans, about their careers, about marriage and family, about places they'd like to travel to. They may dress differently than a group of women the same age in the US, but underneath the shayla and abaya, they're not very different at all.
Today, they're in shock. They're worried about war. They're
concerned about their relatives who are in the States. They remember the Gulf War, and they're afraid this will be so much worse. Our University is near an airport. Normally, they just ignore the planes as they take off and land. Either they pause until the sound has died down, or try to talk over it. Today, they flinched. I've never seen the planes make them nervous before.
They're horrified by the attacks on the United States. While they
are angry that the US appears to support Israel, they cannot accept
what has happened. My students do not celebrate this, nor do they
take it lightly. They say it is harram - forbidden by religion. The
deaths of so many innocents can never be acceptable. Not for any
reason.
My students are still learning English. They had to struggle,
sometimes, to express themselves. They know how to talk about
classes and majors. They know the vocabulary for the lives of
University students. They don't have the words for the deaths of
innocents. I find it tragic that they had to learn the word
"innocent" under such appalling circumstances.
I can no more make sense of this for you, or for myself, than I could for my students. All I can do is pray for the victims, and pray for Peace.
Chris Tremlett
English Language Center
College of Arts and Sciences
Zayed University
Dubai, UAE