Seeker Magazine

Reflections in a Blind Eye

by Thomas J. Acampora

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An Open Ear, An Open Heart

Gary Zukav in Seat of the Soul (Simon & Schuster, 1989) explains that, "The decisions that you make and the actions that you take upon the Earth are the means by which you evolve. At each moment you choose the intentions that will shape your experiences and those things upon which you will focus your attention. These choices affect your evolutionary process." Where we chose to do our service, and how we chose to do it, is part of a broader process of understanding humanity - both our own and others.

For my service, I worked at a grammar school in the Bronx where my main task was to teach a reading and writing workshop for seventh and eighth graders. I wanted to do a good job and actually help these children. So, I asked other educators to help me with explaining certain material. I prepared lessons and assignments and prepared myself to grade hundreds of papers. I remembered the methods that had taught me and thought of ways of implementing them. I even readied myself for something I know I would hate to do: discipline students to keep order in the classroom. And after a few weeks, I realized I was completely unprepared.

Sure, knowing the material I was teaching and how to break it down for others, I could do. But I learned teaching these students involved so much more than that. I quickly found myself floundering in the problems that these students brought before me.

How do you tell a student to study more at home when their home life is a series of moving from shelter to shelter? How do you tell a student to ask for help at home before a test when he lives with his latch-key aunt because he has a drug-addicted mother and a father in jail. How do you comfort a seven year old that bounces from grandmother to aunt to mother to father so much that he has absolutely no clue where "home" is? Try keeping the attention of an abused and battered girl and explaining to her the difference between a noun and a verb when she is trying to hide last night's bruises.

Swarmed with the troubles of the class, I did the best I could inside the classroom: I tried to make sure everyone understood the material before I dismissed the class. I developed a system of grading papers where I hoped to help the students understand their mistakes and have the ability to correct them for a higher grade. I read about alternative educational tactics and tried to implement them. But in the end, I think I did one more thing that was significant: I took a personal interest in each one of those children.

I began to spend more time with students outside the classroom then inside. I would arrive early to school, skip lunch, or stay late to try to help each student as best as I could. I tried to comfort them when they were upset, tutor them when they were having difficulties, and simply, if nothing else, listen to their stories. I talked with them about things outside of school and I tried to answer the multitude of questions they had: about their papers due tomorrow, what high school was like, or life in general. I discovered that many students simply needed someone in their corner to cheer them on. I tried to show them that, at the very least, I cared about them.

I wish I could say I was Michelle Pfeiffer. More accurately, I wish I was more like her character in "Dangerous Minds." In that movie her character managed to transform a group of students into an academic class where each student greatly improved. Although I have noticed that the class's overall writing skills and grades have improved since I began working with them, there are so many students that I feel I have not been able to reach. I hope that I have at least helped them make it to the start of a long process that will ultimately lead to their success.

As someone who has planned for a long time to go into teaching after college, I was absolutely thrilled with the opportunity to try my hand at it. Months later, I am only more cemented in my desire to pursue that route later on in life. But my experience has helped me understand something about the way in which people need to be helped. Although the broader needs of justice ought be met, we must take a personal interest in those we help.

I no longer feel it is enough to simply give huge sums of money to charities worldwide or to only make a political policy change. Although both those avenues do help others, we can not truly solve the problems in our global society with only this detached help. Assistance must also be personal; our hands, hearts, and souls must help others, not simply our wallets or our voice. It is not only those less fortunate that need this personal touch; WE need it. It is important to the evolutionary process of our soul; it is key to becoming a truly human, human being. I truly believe that if everyone were to have such an experience, we would have a more enlightened society that would empathize with the plight of others.

Thus, no matter what you do later on in life, you not only help others, but you give the personal touch that is needed to truly assist others and that allows your soul to grow. In keeping with this spirit, I'd like to conclude with a very personal and intimate greeting that is used in India: Namaste. I have heard various English translations of this ancient word but I prefer this one above all others: "the divine in me honors the divine in you." To those who serve and to those who are served by others, Namaste.

Note: This was a speech I gave to my fellow classmates about my community service that I have done throughout my four years of high school.


(Copyright 2001 by Thomas J. Acampora - No reproduction without express permission from the author)

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Letter to the Author:
Thomas J. Acampora at LrdTarus@aol.com