Wednesday August 6 \u2014 \u201cHurry\u201d<\/p>\n
Yesterday our Fitness Center looked alive and fresh with the energies of c 375 teachers and administrators from the Schools of the Archdiocese. \u00a0 I stopped by late in the morning; \u00a0they weren\u2019t in Fitness then, just some of UDM\u2019s host team prepping for lunch. \u00a0The teachers were out on campus in learning sessions. \u00a0They had already heard UDM\u2019s announcement of education grants for grads from diocesan schools, a new collaboration for us and a smart one.<\/p>\n
What mostly got me thinking, though, was what it means when teachers come to learn. \u00a0Who teaches teachers?<\/p>\n
Lots of people. \u00a0For starts, teachers share research with each other. \u00a0 \u00a0That happened on campus yesterday, fresh ideas on offer to mix in one\u2019s \u00a0skill set. \u00a0 Professionals teach each other too, when they take time to trade stories and care for each other, again like yesterday.<\/p>\n
Most of all, \u00a0students teach teachers. \u00a0They bring us the news about changes in the world, the creative news and the hard news. \u00a0 Students bring us their energy and their wounds, and strong teachers spend a lot of energy, day after day after day, paying attention to precisely how students surprise them, spend teaching time laughing in delight and absorbing grief and violence. \u00a0 Strong teachers learn all the time. \u00a0 That\u2019s what yesterday was about.<\/p>\n
All this\u00a0reminded me of a very cool poem by Marie Howe, given to me by one of UDM\u2019s teachers back in early summer. \u00a0 Doing ordinary chores, a mom’s \u00a0daughter teaches her while they shop. \u00a0 Every time I read \u201cHurry” I smile inside, probably smile outside too. \u00a0Try reading it out loud.<\/p>\n
Have a blest day.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
john st sj<\/p>\n
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Today\u2019s Post: \u00a0from The Kingdom of Ordinary Time<\/span>\u00a0(2008)<\/p>\n We stop at the dry cleaners and the grocery store p.s. \u00a0To Listen to the author read the poem click the play button below:<\/p>\n\n
\nand the gas station and the green market and
\nHurry up honey, I say, hurry hurry,
\nas she runs along two or three steps behind me
\nher blue jacket unzipped and her socks rolled down.
\nWhere do I want her to hurry to? To her grave?
\nTo mine? Where one day she might stand all grown?
\nToday, when all the errands are finally done, I say to her,
\nHoney I\u2019m sorry I keep saying Hurry\u2014
\nyou walk ahead of me. You be the mother.
\nAnd, Hurry up, she says, over her shoulder, looking
\nback at me, laughing. Hurry up now darling, she says,
\nhurry, hurry, taking the house keys from my hands.<\/p>\n