Week of February 12, 2018
I made the most brilliant decision, this week. I took the week off from my full-time job at the Larner College of Medicine to focus on my internship applied research project research and final product. Coming home after my first "work day" on the internship project was such an incredible change - to walk in the door at 5:30 p.m. and to know I was finished work for the day... it was bliss. I hadn't realized how exhausted I was working in two incredibly different places at the same time - the effort it took to change gears between emails and content...
Last night, I knew it was going to be a good week.
Today, I "went into the office," meaning I spent nearly an entire workday at Mercy Connections. I intend to work at a coffee shop for the week; however, my time off allowed me to attend my first-ever Fostering Hope & Strength course debrief and planning session, and it has lead to one of most wonderful milestones as an educator...
Heather Gilbert, the co-course designer and instructor (alongside Kelly Moran, the VWMP mentor coordinator), presented us with "A Soft Answer" by Terry Dobson - a story for us to consider for the upcoming class, "Renewal." We read through the story and paused for reflection. Looking around the room (2 course coordinators, myself, and a fellow intern, Reid Lee), we all clearly didn't feel the story was a perfect fit.
Kelly spoke up first, "It just doesn't feel like it's applicable or relate-able. I'm not sure it will get through to the women. Culture... the gender..."
She nailed it. The story takes place in Japan, with cultural references (the drunk wrecked on too much Sake, persimmons trees, and Aikido), and all of the lead characters were men. We all nodded, and Heather shared her personal struggle in selecting it. "I know; I know," she said with disappointment and defeat. "But the message was just so good. I was just hoping we could make it work."
And then, I asked, "Well, is there any reason we can't change it?" And everyone lit up. "We could make all of the characters women," Kelly said. "And it could take place somewhere closer to home," followed Reid. "And wine. We could make it wine," Heather shared last. "I love wine." We all smiled at the simple and beautiful solution, and I volunteered to re-write the story and have Reid review it for any missed pronouns or other change ideas.
Converting the story was such an amazing experience. Suddenly, it was so much better - the perfect fit for our class and our students with the simply cultural and gender switch to ensure it spoke to our readers. Suddenly, the story was incredible - a better read for me, as well.
The experience led me back to my teaching days in the Marshall Islands, prior to the development I've undergone in the UVM Educational Leadership program. I found an english textbook lesson where a little girl struggles being Latina in an American school; it was written as a play, so I could assign roles to the students and engage them in a mini-in-class play. I had been so proud of myself - finding a story about a little girl of color, struggling with her American and Latina cultures colliding in school and her social circles - "So applicable!" I thought. The children I taught struggle with this everyday as American culture infiltrates every aspect of their traditions. "Wasn't I such a clever and culturally competent teacher?" However, I quickly found myself not only struggling to support the students through the deep messages in the story; I was suddenly teaching them about the spanish language (Pepita, the lead's pet nickname, meant nugget in Spanish) - what hola and abuela meant. I was asking them to work in three cultures! How much better would my lesson had been if I had taken the template and aligned it to their lives - use the same story and script, but have little Ajri try to renounce her Marshallese culture, questioning her use of words like yokwe and bubu?
When presented with something that almost fits, however, there is something just a little off - something that makes it not quite the best lesson, handout, or presentation, it helps to stop for a moment. Don't just toss it. And ask, "Well, is there any reason we can't change it?"
The new version of "A Soft Answer" is perfect for our course session on Renewal with the women of the Chittenden Regional Correctional facility. I can't help smiling, thinking how our soft answer today was "change it" - make it new. How fitting...
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