This week, I was prouder of my middle schoolers than I think I’ve ever been. You see, this week we discussed refugees. I know you are probably shocked that I would dare such a thing, but the fact of the matter is that back in October, God laid it on my heart to open my students’ eyes to the global refugee crisis. Doctors Without Borders had set up a free exhibition here in Pittsburgh called “Forced From Home” which highlighted the intense experiences that refugees endure, and while I could not secure permission for an official field trip, I did have a copy of the educator’s guide. As I flipped through the extremely well thought out activities, one, in particular, jumped out at me: refugee classification. I knew immediately that the activity would fit perfectly into our text-dependent analysis focus, and looking at our curriculum guide, I excitedly penciled it in for the week of January 30th.
Fast forward to this past week. Among all of the executive orders that were signed, it was the immigration order that brought me to tears. As each individual story rolled in, my heart broke a little more. I couldn’t bear to hear about these children being forced back into the violent chasm from which they were fleeing. And then I suddenly remembered the lesson I had prepared for the week. My first reaction was panic at having to change plans at the last minute and anger that an innocent lesson about the world was being railroaded by fear. And in the midst of my anger, my frustration, my heart’s desperate prayers that the world would come to its senses, I felt a nudge from God, and I knew. I knew that I had to forge ahead, had to keep that lesson in place, had to help my students make sense of a world gone crazy, whichever side of the issue they were on.
Oh, I was nervous, but I am one stubborn lady who comes from stubborn stock. (Immigrant stock, in fact.) I double and triple-checked with my fellow English teacher and good friend that she was still willing to use the lesson for her classes, and she wholeheartedly agreed with me. I combed through the Power Point slides, searching out anything that might garner an angry email from a parent. I laid carefully worded ground rules for our discussion, explaining clearly that the purpose of our lesson was to learn the background facts and statistics about the global refugee crisis so that students could better analyze the news they were hearing and understand what all of the disagreement stems from, and that we were decidedly NOT voicing or judging any political beliefs or policies. The students promised to listen and speak respectfully, I said a silent prayer, and off we went.
What resulted was a beautiful exercise in critical thinking and text-to-self connections. We learned that our own families are from many different countries from Ireland to Poland to Morocco and even St. Croix, and that some of us know or are even related to refugees. We learned that war does not pick and choose whom it affects and that refugees have many different levels of education, speak many different languages, and practice many different religions. We learned that not everyone who flees is technically considered a refugee—there are also internally displaced people and economic migrants. We learned that there are more than 65 million displaced people in the world about whom nobody can agree what to do with. We read true stories from displaced people and analyzed them to identify whether or not they would be considered refugees. We put our reading and writing strategies that we had been practicing all year to good use. Everything that we talked about was strictly informational, and the lesson went off without a hitch.
At the end of our lesson, I told my students that I was so proud of them for handling it with dignity and respect, and one of my girls observed that they were able to have a civil, academic conversation when none of the adults they knew could. And that’s really the point, isn’t it? In a few short years, these middle schoolers will be able to vote. As a public school teacher, I cannot (and would not) force my beliefs on my students, but I can provide information and build critical thinking skills in the hopes of growing informed, involved citizens with a world view. I may not be able to save the world from itself in this moment, but I am blessed to be able to teach our future doctors, lawyers, teachers, and politicians. Nobody ever bettered the world by being chained by fear.
“Therefore, my dear brothers and sisters, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain.” 1 Corinthians 15:58
