Monday, May 10, 2010

Isolating Awe....

The beautiful thing about awe is that it is uncompromising in its jarring you into the present moment. Awe grabs your attention and shakes all the loose thoughts out of your mind. Sadly, most of us don’t have time for awe. We don’t have time for the moment of captivation, because we are so concerned with where we’re going and what it’s going to be like then. I’m really not an Aerosmith fan but in one of their few songs there is a line, “Life’s a journey, not a destination” that came into my head as I was reading this chapter on Awe. We have lost our appreciation for the journey in our expectations of how much better it will all be once we’re there. I see this with many of the students at MCCS. They are in such a hurry to grow up, be tough, be cool, be accepted, be popular. They are always in a hurry to be something or prove something that I wonder if they would even know when they achieved whatever it is that they are striving for. I want to say to them: “slow down. Put down your phone and think. Your friends aren’t going anywhere. You don’t have to be in a gang to be accepted. You don’t have to destroy your life to be loved. Slow down and think. Think about your life and what you want it to mean.” But all that comes out is: “First you have to isolate X, then you divide by 10…” And when I look up they are texting or pretending to shoot one of their classmates. Sometimes I wonder if I am only making matters worse by trying to force math upon them. Am I only reinforcing their disdain for school? In the reading, the author said something that really resonated with me. He suggests,
The point is that if we are to respond with depth, attunement, and embodiment, then we will need to engage with as many sides of a problem as possible. We will need to immerse ourselves in the ambiguity if we are to emerge with conviction, intention and integrity. (p. 171)
This experience at MCCS has made one thing very clear: The problem isn’t just their math. Shit, the problem is probably everything and anything but math. So am I really benefiting these kids by tutoring them in math? I don’t know. I know that I’m trying. I know that if I wouldn’t have been a math tutor, I wouldn’t be asking this question and I wouldn’t now understand that sometimes inability to isolate X isn’t really about X at all. Sometimes it’s about everything but X.

No comments:

Post a Comment