Pathway

Last week the Ministry of Education closed schools on Thursday because of inclement weather in the forecast. Thursday was beautiful. I felt that in that moment I learned something essential about the way weather threats are regarded in by officials. 

So this week, when people warned about thigh-height snow, I raised an internal eyebrow. 

Friday morning looked like this:

Elizabeth called me and asked if I wanted to take a traipse through the town to Jean's house. Yes, I did. So on went the plastic bags inside my polyester black boots which water soaks but doesn't ruin, and went out to the street to meet her. 

Huge tractors were driving past, manned by exceedingly pleased-looking Palestinians, who were shoving snow around in no particular pattern. (On the way back from Jean’s we saw that someone had been doing donuts in the parking lot which is usually crammed with buses going to Jerusalem and the villages.)

We ploughed our own path, leaving some of the first footprints in central Ramallah where the only establishment open was a coffee cart, whose operator emphatically and with much gesticulation entreated us to “go slowly, slowly”. 

I feel as though I need to take that advice to heart in my mental and spiritual life as well. It shocks me how easy it is to run ahead of the present day, seeking answers about what will happen long from now - what subjects will I be teaching? What will I do this summer? What will be the next thing after Ramallah? Will I be a teacher all my life? Will I live abroad for longer, or return to the U.S.? 

Slowly, slowly.

Yesterday the morning Daily Word reading spoke to my condition. 

“Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace.” - Proverbs 3:17

I know I’m taking this verse wildly out of context, but the feminine pronouns seemed to refer right to me, reminding me that God will lead me on ways of pleasantness, and that every pathway open to me is a path of peace. I cannot make wrong decisions when I’m paying attention to where I can be of the best service today. 

Elizabeth has proper boots and hat.

I have to say, I love that being of service today involves reading up on Albert Camus’s relationship with Algeria, in preparation for class discussions of The Stranger this week.

I’ll be treading more paths through snow today, trying to remember that I don’t need to see where my foot will fall meters or miles hence. 

Reeling the boys back in

Last week we finished Laurie Halse Anderson's Speak in the tenth grade. It's a story about an American girl who gets raped at an end-of-summer party before her freshman year of high school. Melinda's sarcasm and candour create a poignant narrative which ... did very little to keep the 15-year-old boys' attention. 

Monica and I figured this might draw them back in:

The ten minute opening of Baz Luhrmann's film adaptation of Romeo and Juliet worked magic, real magic, on these boys. The image of their faces during the viewing should go in the dictionary next to the word "rapt". 

Lest they think they're in for another quarter of discussing feelings, (widespread misconception: "R&J is purely a love story") Monica thought to start with a shoot-out at a gas station where the frame showing a close-up of Tybalt's face as he says "Peace? ...Peace?", as if trying to remember when and where the concept was ever relevant, fairly wraps a hand around the back of the viewer's head and jerks it toward the screen. 

They loved it. 

Thank goodness again for Monica, because I have never read Romeo and Juliet. (I hope the students don't know just how sincere I am when I tell them: "You don't have to understand every word in Shakespeare - just appreciate the beauty of the language!!") The play is required reading for all ninth grade Britons, so Monica has taught it dozens of times. 

Once again, I am thrilled, thrilled to be a teacher in this day and age, when I can buy this film on Amazon Instant for $9, and use it next period from my computer, and take screen shots of key moments (the images above) and print them for the students to analyse during group work. 

I simply can't imagine how teacher taught this text for the past 400 years....