More Than Anything Else

My stomach rumbles, for we had no morning meal. But it isn't really a meal I want, though I would not turn one down.

More than anything else, I want to learn to read.

Every year, regardless of the grade I'm teaching, I read this book, by Marie Bradby and illustrated by Chris Soentpiet, based on the life of Booker T. Washington, to my class. It's why I'm there. It's why they're there. The most important thing that I can teach them is to crave more knowledge, more understanding.

I think about the hunger still in my head -- reading. I have seen some people -- young and old -- do it. I am nine years old and I know, if I had the chance, I could do it it, too.

I think there is a secret in those books.

I tell my kids that there is a secret in books.

I tell my kids that it was illegal to teach slaves to read. We discuss why that might be. I want them to see what a treasure and privilege it is to have something that some of them consider a chore and nearly all of us take for granted.

I see  a man reading a newspaper aloud and all doubt falls away. I have found hope, and it is as brown as me.

I see myself the man. And I watch his eyes move across the paper, it is as if I know what the black marks mean, as if I am reading. As if everyone is listening to me. And I hold that thought in my hands.

I will work until I am the best reader in the county. Children will crowd around me, and I will teach them to read.

I look at my little 4th graders and, without exception, every one of them has high hopes for their life. They love stories, they care about injustice, they are enthusiastic to learn new things.

I want that to be nurtured and sustained--not just in my kids, but in all kids, all adults. In myself. It's been an exhausting seven years, seven years of paltry hopes, seven years of having even my cynicism disappointed.

The bright spot of 2004 for me was having the privilege of voting for Barack Obama in Illinois Senate race. I followed the race closely--read what I could find, listened to him speak. And I was blown away--by his intelligence, by his respectfulness even towards the contemptible Alan Keyes, for his thoughtfulness and reluctance (or inability!) to reduce complex ideas to soundbites.

My brother and I made a date to vote for Obama. We got coffee and breakfast and drove to the polls. We voted and came back overjoyed to have cast that vote. I remember my brother saying that we would vote for him for president someday.

As I look toward this year's presidential election, I find myself daring to hope that the corrosive fear and anger we have suffered from can be turned around. I find myself daring to hope that my kids will grow up in an America of reinvigorated ideals, recommitted to a quest for knowledge and understanding.

More than anything else, I want my kids to grow up with a Thinker in Chief, not a Warrior in Chief.

More than anything else, I want my kids to come of age with a president who insists on understanding and rational discussion.

More than anything else, I want my kids to see the value of seeking truth, where ever it may lie.

More than anything else, I want my kids to grow up committed to protecting the rights of all people.

More than anything else, I want my kids to grow up in a country recommitted to our greatest ideals of freedom and justice.

I get to vote for Barack Obama this year--sooner than I thought I would be able to. But not too early--at this time when this change is most needed; at this time when I am hungry for intelligent, thoughtful leadership, at this time when I want, more than anything else, a president who can inspire the people to intelligent, thoughtful action.

"Most leaders spend time trying to get others to think highly
of them, when instead they should try to get their people to
think more highly of themselves.
It’s wonderful when the people believe in their leader.
It’s more wonderful when the leader believes in their people!
You can’t hold a man down without
staying down with him.
— Booker T. Washington"

•  Tip Jar

  To support Obama, we must permit ourselves to feel hope, to acknowledge the possibility that we can aspire as a nation to be more than merely secure or predominant. We must allow ourselves to believe in Obama, not blindly or unquestioningly as we might believe in some demagogue or figurehead but as we believe in the comfort we take in our families, in the pleasure of good company, in the blessings of peace and liberty, in any thing that requires us to put our trust in the best part of ourselves and others. That kind of belief is a revolutionary act. It holds the power, in time, to overturn and repair all the damage that our fear has driven us to inflict on ourselves and the world.

  My tip: if you are at all interested in Obama, go read this amazing editorial by Michael Chabon.

  by Albatross on Mon Feb 04, 2008 at 05:31:40 PM PDT

  •  I am one of those kids

    I want a organizer-in-chief personally. But that's just my niche.

    Great diary Albatross.

    by Populista on Mon Feb 04, 2008 at 06:31:10 PM PDT

•  Wonderful diary, Albatross

  Thanks so much.

  by casperr on Mon Feb 04, 2008 at 05:35:39 PM PDT

  •  Thanks casperr.

    I appreciate the kind words.

    The Chabon editorial about the "Phobocracy" was so moving to me--children's literature tends to be a great cure for fear. :)

    by Albatross on Mon Feb 04, 2008 at 05:40:03 PM PDT

•  great diary, Albatross

  I'm not familiar with that book but I think I should dig it up.

  I remember many years ago talking to a friend about her daughter's plans to attend college, the first in her family to ever do so. I think this friend wanted to talk to me because I was one of the few people she knew well who had gone to college. She asked me what her daughter should focus on in choosing a school. She was most worried about which school would train her for the best job. I told my friend that the best thing you could learn in college was how to think. My friend was shocked -- she wasn't going to spend all that money just so her daughter could learn to think. And I tried to explain to my friend that, when you can think, you can learn to do anything. She hadn't thought about it that way and I hope what I said made some difference. We moved shortly thereafter and I lost touch so I don't know how it worked out. But I know that learning to read and learning to think are the most important things you can know how to do.

  And learning to dream is a damned good choice for third.

  by kainah on Mon Feb 04, 2008 at 05:48:08 PM PDT

•  This is really beautiful.

  Children learning to read, learning to empower themselves through knowledge... An inspiring story. Thank you for sharing it, and thank you for sharing this book with your students! They are lucky to have you.

  by kath25 on Mon Feb 04, 2008 at 06:04:33 PM PDT

•  This is absolutely beautiful!

  I wish it was not falling down the list of recent diaries, more people should see this. I vote that you re-post it at a later date at a time when it will get more attention.

  Absolutely gorgeous diary, tipped and very enthusiastically recommended!

  by Jennifer Clare on Mon Feb 04, 2008 at 06:57:58 PM PDT

  •  Thanks so much for the kind words,

    Jennifer.

    There were some pretty fabulous diaries that were posted last night.

    by Albatross on Tue Feb 05, 2008 at 03:20:20 AM PDT

•  How to know a "natural" teacher:

  s/he says "my kids."  We do end up with rather extended families, don't we?  What I like best is that they stay my kids forever.  I just had a call from a former student who wants me to play for her wedding in October.  I've played for dozens of them and they are still mine, even when they are all grown up!

  Thanks for the tip on the book.  I will share it with my colleagues, too!

  by luckylizard on Mon Feb 04, 2008 at 07:37:49 PM PDT

  •  oh, how wonderful!

    Enjoy playing at the wedding.
    Even the big kids are just kids who still need all of those people who meant so much to them.

    by Albatross on Tue Feb 05, 2008 at 03:17:04 AM PDT

    •  One advantage

      to working in a parochial school is that I get to see many of my kids on Sunday.  It's always fun to see a guy who was an awkward 8th grader grow up to be a foot-and-a-half taller than I and say to him,  "Hi, Shorty!"  They always hesitate a tick and then get that really big, aw-shucks grin.  And there are always the "kids" who still need a hug.  Most of them, both young men and women, now have to bend over to hug me :-)  (Yes, I do have a thing about being short...)  Teaching is  a great profession - except for the nearly-starving part ;-)

      by luckylizard on Tue Feb 05, 2008 at 03:58:04 AM PDT