Education

Today was the first day of school here in Lexington. Last week my boys faced the exhilaration of buying new supplies, new clothes, and new shoes. Today they had to face reality.

At the end of the day, both were happy to be home. The first day of school somehow doesn't measure up to the expectations.

Because I was raised in this country, as a youth I didn't value formal education. I loved to read, write, and explore on my own, but the thought of sitting behind a desk failed to thrill me. It wasn't until I met my (future) husband that I thought about what education really means.

He was raised in Thailand where schooling is much more competitive. He craved formal learning. At first I didn't understand that. But in Thailand, as in many other nations, education is not a given. The young person must earn the right to go to school and pass through the different levels.

I've tried to explain all this to my sons. The older ones get it. The younger ones still feel as if they're being tortured by homework and equations. After all, they're Americans.

There has been much talk about educational reform in this country. Standardized testing is definitely not the answer. I know there must be a better way.

(And, personally, I think August 13 is way too early to be going back to school.)

Avoiding Hypocrisy

Muhammad said there are three signs of the hypocrite:

1. When he (she) speaks, he lies.

2. When he (she) makes a promise, he breaks it.

3. When he (she) is given a responsibility (a trust), he betrays the trust.

A true Muslim speaks the truth, keeps promises, and fulfills responsibilities.

I try to remember this daily. Hypocrisy is certainly not something to strive for!

Excuses and Downright Lies

I heard them often when I was a teacher. "My printer ran out of ink." "My computer wouldn't work." "My parents were out visiting people all weekend and they made me come too." "There's no one to take me to the library." It was an Islamic school so there were no dogs available to eat the homework. Usually it was the computer's fault, though sometimes the parents were to blame. Never the student, of course.

It would be nice if this type of behavior were simply an adolescent phase. But my guess is that many of my students had parents who also made excuses. "My car broke down." "The baby was sick." "We had relatives visiting from overseas." As I got to know the families, I could tell which were downright lies. Some--students and parents--chronically lied.

It doesn't stop there, either. Ask someone in Congress why he or she voted for the war against Iraq. Many excuses. Ask someone in the White House why the war was started in the first place. Many lies.

My father was easy going, for the most part, but one of his frequent sayings was "No excuses." That annoyed me when I was young. I've since learned to appreciate his attitude.

Being a responsible adult, or a responsible student, means accepting responsibility for your actions.

No Excuses. (Thanks, Dad.)

Who's Responsible?

The collapse of a major bridge in Minneapolis last week finally made the media, politicians, and American public pay attention to the crumbling infrastructure in this country. Though, I'm sure, most average Americans have already noticed that.

So now there are grand plans to build the Minneapolis bridge in record time. What about the thousands of others throughout this country which are also substandard? Will it take another accident and more lives being lost?

In the 1950s, when I was born and Eisenhower was president, the U.S. had a "can do" attitude. The new national highway system made it possible to drive from coast to coast. "See the U.S.A. in your Chevrolet." Trains played an important role in transporting goods and people. The bridges were new and the country had a spirit of hope which extended into the next decade.

Now people are depressed. The infrastructure is depressed. They tell us that even household pets are depressed. Optimism sprouts like grass through a concrete sidewalk, only to be cut down far too often. There are good things still happening in this country, at the grass roots level. There has been no real good news out of Washington D.C. for a very long time.

So who is responsible? The people? Or the current Republican president who, unlike Eisenhower, destroys rather than builds?

I'm not sure how much more abuse this country can weather.

Taking Responsibility

Responsibility is an essential value among Muslims. We are taught that everyone has something for which he or she is responsible, whether it's the mother who's responsible for her children or the doctor who's responsible for the patients.

Imagine if everyone in a society took his or her responsibility seriously. There would be no neglect of duty. Those who depend on others would not go wanting. Families and institutions would run smoothly.

It's a utopian vision, of course. In reality, family members might be neglected or abused. Students might fail to learn from lazy teachers. Governments might fail to function under self-centered politicians.

But we can always imagine how things should be, and strive for this.

Staying Hopeful

I hope the U.S. pulls the troops out of Iraq sometime during my life time.

I hope Afghanistan finally becomes stabilized, after more than 30 years of political instability and outright war.

I hope the world wakes up to the plight of Palestine.

I hope that, in the future, this country has a president who cares more about infrastructure than about building bombs.

I have many hopes. I can't do anything about the ones I've just listed. They are more like wishes and dreams.

But I also hope my sons all grow up to be good husbands and fathers, and productive members of society.

I hope my grandchildren are raised with manners and morals.

I hope my writing will make a positive impact on those who read my works.

These I can do something about. I have some control. That's what I can work toward.

In terms of the rest. . .I'll keep praying.

Prompted by Hope

Hope causes people to attempt difficult feats.

Someone once said that the most amazing thing about childbirth is that any woman does it more than once. Hope, or maybe a really bad memory, causes the mother to have more children and build up her family.

Hope prompts athletes, students, and (we hope) leaders. Not blind optimism but cautious anticipation of something better.

Hope produces paintings, sculptures, symphonies, and novels. The artist slaves away day after day, usually in solitary, with the goal of reaching and inspiring others.

And hope brings me back to writing my blog every Monday through Thursday. Every day I look anxiously for comments. There are few. But I hope someone is reading and benefitting from my words.

Imagine where the world would be without hope.