Breakfast in Rome Diner in Paris

Sunday morning I stumbled out of bed in time to hug Brandon goodbye. While he was on his way to Spain at 6am I slept the morning away. The hostel was deserted when I woke up at 9ish. I leisurely got ready, walked around the neighborhood, and then headed off to the airport.

I found my friend Anna in the heart of Paris at 6pm. Anna and I met in my last French class spring quarter. We were both eager to graduate and impatient to see if we would be offered a teaching position in France. I regret that I didn’t meet Anna sooner. I really admire her creativity and the way she thinks. That evening Anna and I went to diner at Jim Haynes apartment.

Having diner at Jim Hayne’s place was a dream come true. Jim hosts a diner every Sunday with the goal of bringing people together. It was neat to be in an environment where so many people were willing introduce themselves and have conversation.

Jim has been bringing people together and sharing his vision of community since the late fifties. He’s started bookstores, theaters, papers, festivals, and written books. My couchsurfing host in Oslo introduced me to Jim. I read his books, “Thanks for Coming.” And “Workers of the World Unite and Stop Working.” His other books are on my never-ending reading list.

Unexpected Invitations

Saturday night we went to the Pantheon so that we could see the home of the gods and goddesses lit up. The Pantheon is the oldest functional building in Rome.

Everyone was hanging out and chatting in front of the Pantheon and some of us were trying to figure out how to take pictures in the dark. Then we wandered over to the gelato stand because small talk and old buildings are always better with gelato in hand.

After mastering lighting issues, I tried to find the best angels to take pictures. Capturing the Pantheon is challenging because it is a huge building in a small square with an obelisque (stolen from Egypt) in the center. As I was pretending to be an amazing photographer my comrades were debating the merits of various illuminated ruins and the desirability of bar-hopping.

Suddenly, Brandon, and our six new friends, were led toward an apartment. Someone quickly whispered to me in the stairwell that we were invited to the private apartment of the Peruvian ambassador to Italy.

It turns out one of the two Argentinean women in our group met these 4 young men on the train. After the formality of hand shakes and kisses we were led through the beautiful apartment and onto a balcony which had a perfect view of the Pantheon.

We did the best we could to get to know each other. One of the four men who welcomed us spoke basic/intermediate English. Two out of our eight spoke Spanish as their first language and three out of our group spoke very basic Spanish. Unfortunately I don’t speak any Spanish and neither did two others in our group. When talking failed me I resorted to dancing.

Vatican

Saturday Brandon and I struck out early to explore the Vatican. The weather was so nice we didn’t wear coats! At St. Peters Cathedral we huffed it up more steps than Rocky. The view was absolutely outstanding! Rome is colorful, it has palm trees, and a river. Seeing it all from above was really special.

After we saw St. Peters we grabbed a quick bite to eat and headed over to the Vatican Museum which contains the Sistine Chapel. I would love to go back to the Vatican museum because we didn’t have time or energy to see it all. We spent a lot of time in the Sistine Chapel, but it is so intricate that I didn’t feel like I had enough time to adequately burn the images on my retinas.

As I was touring the Vatican I kept thinking “My Grandparents have been here!” This made me feel really connected to the place. I also couldn’t help thinking of my Dad and how meaningful a trip to the Vatican would be for him.

I’m pretty sure Brandon and I borrowed energy from Saturday to pull off Friday. We were both sound asleep in our hostel beds by 5pm. I Felt like I could have slept right through to Sunday, but Brandon prodding me, and the promise of free diner lured me into the common room at 8:30 pm. Diner, conversation, and guitar music put the life back into everyone. We set out with our hostel mates again and what ensued is so exciting it requires its own blog entry.

Rome

Last week was extremely enriching. I topped it off by meeting my cousin Brandon in Rome Friday morning. It was so good to see someone I’ve known fro years!

We set out immediately to explore the Forum. It was captivating and larger than I imagined. We spent several hours their. It was interesting to see how the perspective and angles of the ruins changed based on where I was standing. I’ve always been enthralled by ruins and abandoned buildings.

Hanging out with Brandon was fantastic we caught up, made jokes, etc etc.:):):):) After the Forum we had some delicious pasta and then we joined a tour at the Colosseum.

Our guide told us about the Colosseum’s glory days and the tragedy of gladiators who were enslaved to perform violent entertainment. After centuries of looting and abandonment the Colosseum has been partially restored to entertain tourists.

The Colosseum tour led right into another 45 minute tour of the Forum. We’re pretty sure this was a mistake on the guide’s part because we only paid 5 euro. We went along with it, and the Forum was even better the second time around. We saw a part that we accidently missed the first time, the lighting was better for pictures, and the history was fascinating.

After the tours we walked around Rome and then went back to the hostel to relax. That night we went out with our very awesome hostel mates. Everyone was truly lovely. The most interesting conversation I had was with t a Jewish-American man who spent three years in Israel.

At the bars we learned that there are a lot of Americans in Rome. They are all illegally living the Italian dream as under the table English teachers, tour guides, and leaf letters. Sounds exciting to me!

Patience

Teaching has provided plenty of opportunities for me to practice patience, acceptance, and living in the moment. It has also been a humbling reminder that I still have such a long way to go. When I start to master being patient in one context, I am inevitably provided with a new situation and I start the process of practicing patience all over again.

Some of my students are really strong in English, others can’t conjugate the verb to be. Some students are willing to participate, others are like stone. Since I only see each student once every two or three weeks it is hard to know what I am in for. Sometimes I take on a group of students who I know are strong, but they are tired and having an off day. The result is; I have to live in the moment, and work with what I’ve got.

I know that if I become frustrated or impatient my students will become withdrawn and they will feel bad about themselves. My defense against impatience is encourage, encourage, encourage. Slowly, I’m genuinely starting to be more patient and truly happy with however my students arrive to me. It’s been work though, and I have a lot more work to do. It’s hard to be patient if I’m tired or having an off day, but I’m getting better. Fortunately I don’t have very many tired days.

Poverty

Last year, when I applied to Teach for America, I learned that schools In the United States are primarily funded by property taxes. Therefore, a school that is in a neighborhood with a lot of public housing receives less property taxes, ergo less funding. Less funding, means less of everything. Less salary for teachers, less supplies, after school programs, honors programs, music programs, theater programs etc. Lack of funds is seen as a major player in the under education of millions of children. The solution that was presented to me through Teach for America is that more money and a few hyper-motivated teachers would render better schools and better students.

In France I teach in an Education Priority School. This means that the students in my school underperform on national exams and they are largely economically underprivileged. At my school over 50% of the students failed the national exam. In addition to poverty my school has a high percentage of students who are immigrants or come from immigrant families. The students at my school have a reputation for being difficult.

There are numerous schools in the United States that fit the above description. However in France, all schools have the same amount of money per pupil. Despite the socioeconomic status of my students, my school is in a new building, and has plenty of supplies. Teachers are paid extra to compensate for teaching in a challenging school. My experiences here in France have presented a challenge to my cultural assumptions about how to deal with educational disparity and cyclical poverty.

I think all students regardless of social status should have equal access to high quality education. Their is no doubt that education has an important equalizing force on society. However it is clear to me that education isn’t the only thing needed to stop cyclical poverty. In analyzing culture there is far more than one variable. France, for example, doesn’t have the same tradition of afterschool programs, music programs, and honors programs. It’s hard to measure the extent that supplemental programming contributes to the development of students. Nevertheless, it seems clear, that money and teachers are not the only things necessary to solving poverty. How do we bridge the gap between the haves and the have-nots?

Next year I’ll be a tutor for AmeriCorps at an underprivileged school in St. Louis. I’m excited for the opportunity to compare next years experience with my experiences in France. Hopefully I’ll have a better understanding of culture, education, and poverty.

Sad

Today I found out that an arrest was made in connection to the murder of Jeremy Scully, who was one of my pole vaulting coaches.

I’m sad all over again for the loss.

I’m sad for the person who killed my friend. Two types of people commit crimes; those with big hurts and those with severe mental illness.

I’m sad that I don’t know what to do with the person who killed my friend. All the great religious profits would undoubtedly say forgiveness. Forgiveness seems to have magical powers of healing and peace making.

But how? How do I see past my own hurt, to connect with the hurt of the person who hurt me and so many others?

Can I still continue to hurt and forgive? If not, how do I stop hurting?
I have some reading and thinking to do. There are a lot of incredible stories out their. I would really like to take an abnormal psychology class as well.

I’m sad that as a society the best idea we have come up with for dealing with social hazards is prison. Prison isn’t a place of healing.

I’m sad that the person who killed my friend will be dehumanized into nothing more than a murderer. I am sad that we will probably take our collective hurt to the point of murder.

I am hopeful that one day society will acquire such a heightened state of collective consciousness and responsibility that prisons will be archaic and crime unheard of.