As I continue to think about my classmate's death, these are some things I wrote in my journal.
A classmate of mine felt strongly about not going to teach in the Chicago Public School system. Afraid for her life, she wouldn't go. Within two weeks of expressing this fear, she was dead, killed in her own bed by her own heart.
Her fear isn't lost on me. I, too, am fearful. I am fearful of the unknown, fearful of the rough inner city neighborhoods. I don't have street smarts. I don't know if I could bridge the gap between my own experiences and theirs. I don't know if I could be successful in any classroom, much less one so under funded, under supported, so set up for failure by outside influences.
But we never know what will happen. We never know what is around the corner or in store for tomorrow. You can die from poor choices, unforeseen circumstances, or just being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
I don't want to live in fear, and I don't want fear to stop me if I have something to offer. It's easy for me to dream about what it could be like, how successful it could be. I could be the next Erin Gruwell, Jaime Escalante, or Geoffrey Canada. It's also easy for me to exaggerate the danger, thinking people are waiting to shoot me at each corner. But the truth is, I haven't experienced Chicago Public Schools, inner city life, or life in the projects. I don't know where I'll end up. It could be inner city, a town, in a corn field, or a mission school in some other country.
My classmate's death has me thinking, though. I don't want to be driven to something or away from something because of fear. Whether naive or not, I want to be driven by passion, purpose, a sense of calling. I don't want me fears to imprison me. Today has reminded me that I truly don't know what is around the corner, but I want to turn the corner with my head held high, confident in life or death.
No comments:
Post a Comment