The Courage to Cry

Last week I attended a conference for English teachers in Morocco. It was a magnificent event organized by the incredibly committed and hard working Moroccan Association for Teachers of English (MATE). One of the highlights was the opportunity to attend the workshops of my colleagues (the English Language Fellow program teachers in Bahrain & Morocco also attended the conference). I learned a lot from them and it was also really wonderful to see their smiling faces during my workshop.

One of my colleagues, Julie, led a fascinating workshop about literature circles. During the session we read a short story by Sandra Cisneros and then we participated in a simulation activity so that we could learn how to implement a literature circle in our classrooms. One of our tasks was to think of connections to the story. Many teachers shared their connections to books and short stories they had read as well as their personal experiences. One of the teachers made a connection to Dolly Parton's "Coat of Many Colors." Julie, our amazing facilitator, had never heard this song (or maybe she was just pretending) so of course we all had to sing it for her.

A teacher sitting next to me told a story about a student who came to class with a baseball cap. He asked him to remove it and when the student refused, the teacher ordered him out of class. The student later informed the teacher that he had an injury on the side of his head and didn't want the other students to laugh at him. The teacher apologized and let the student wear his hat in class until his wound healed. After telling this story, another teacher began to tell a similar story about a student she taught who wouldn't take off his hat. I could see from across the room that she was starting to get emotional as she told the story. I got out of my chair to be close to her but it was too late to reach her before the tears started to stream down her cheeks.

Her student had died a few hours after her class while he was taking a math exam. She never had the chance to apologize to him and she felt responsible for his death. Everyone in the room froze. Reassuring words could be heard from every corner of the room, "It's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's not your fault." She had never told anyone about the incident and I don't think before that moment she had realized how much it still affected her. As I wrapped my arms around her, tears began to stream down my cheeks as well. 

I asked her for the name of the boy so that I could keep him in my heart but she said that she didn't want to repeat his name because she has been trying to forget it for two years. All teachers have stories of children we feel that we disappointed or didn't work hard enough to help. I have so many, Juma, Daniel, Bobby... I could keep reciting their names but I will never be able to bring them back or fix their broken lives. 

The workshop continued while I sat next to this brave woman. She was embarrassed for her uncontrollable emotions. I was proud of her for sharing the story that produced them. As teachers we are so isolated in our classrooms, alone with our students as the only witnesses of our joys, failures, frustrations, or successes. Yet we all need the opportunity to share our experiences and reflect on our practices in order to grow professionally.

During the conclusion of her presentation, Julie explained that literature circles can build a sense of community in the classroom by establishing trust. Her workshop perfectly modeled these principles; she provided a space for all of us to share our true selves. Afterwards I felt as though I had become close friends to everyone in a room that was previously filled with strangers. I wish that every teacher could have been there to experience such a powerful demonstration of solidarity and support.