Today started in a nonchalant way. Got up at 4:30 am, turned on the
computer,
brewed some coffee, and did the Washington Post crossword puzzle online. Then,
I opened
my mailbox before I went into Web-CT to read student journals and project
evaluations. As
I rolled down the message headings, exercising my deleting index finger, I
stopped and
opened a message titled, "no longer a by-stander." It was from a student whom
I'll call
Don. His words sent me into silent, slow motion:
Dr. Schmier, in this course on the Holocaust you gave me a chance to
completely
change the way I think, feel, and believe I didn't want or thought I needed. I
have to be
honest I took this course only because it fit my schedule. I was one of those
who laughed
as we were crowed into a make-believe boxcar on that first day as we were
forced to watch
some pictures of a death camp. I wasn't happy that you required that we
journal every day
on our own prejudices and on the prejudices we witnessed. I didn't see the
point. It was
busy work to me. I thought it was stupid that you said that our prejudices
have an impact
on our feelings, thoughts, and actions and that from such supposed little
things that we
do unthinkingly and naturally come the big things of disrespect, hatred,
segregation,
lynchings, and the Holocaust.
I guess you could say I grew up in a racist family, which of course is
going to
make me somewhat racist. Well, more than somewhat. I never realized that
growing up this
way had affected me the way it had until watching the films and answering those
reflecting
questions and journaling and working on the play as a victim. And I didn't
even know it
until a couple of weeks ago. Something happened then that changed my view of
you, this
course, me, and of other people who were different than me. I was in the
farmers market
getting a watermelon (I know that this is hard to believe because it isnt the
season for
watermelon but this is a true story) and I saw this black women who my dad
would call the
N word and I thought to myself that she was a N because that was how I was
brought up.
But, then, a flash of some people from the last film hit me and I remembered
how it felt
being put in the boxcar heading for a death camp on that first day in class and
I caught
myself saying 'That's not right' and feeling I had done something wrong. I let
it pass.
Anyways I was checking out, but they dont take credit cards, and I only had 2
dollars.
The watermelon cost like $3.68 and I hear some woman behind me say I have to
buy gas but
I don't need all of this 10 dollars and I have been helped out before so here
is 2 more
dollars." The woman that gave me the money was the woman who my dad would have
called a
N woman. This nice lady who I thought was just an N gave me 2 dollars just
for a
watermelon that I didnt even need. This lady was poor because she told me
that she had
been waiting to get gas for a month just so the price would go down. My eyes
teared up
and I felt like a horrible person. I saw her differently. She changed while I
was
standing there. Well, I know I changed. She wasn't a 'n' (no more in
capitals). She was
just a nice person with different colored skin. I thought about that and what
I had
believed for days and days and went back over my journal entries and looked at
myself. It
wasn't easy admitting stuff to myself. I talked with my friends who told me to
forget it,
but I couldn't get it out of my mind. As you might say, it was stuck fast in
my heart.
If it wasnt for this class I wouldnt have felt like this. It's your fault,
but a nice
and important fault. Things were happening inside me I didn't know were
happening and I'm
not sure I understand. My dad and I had a hot talk over Thanksgiving when I
told him not
to use the 'n' word in front of me and even asked why he thought the way he
did. I wasn't
going to be a by-stander and a perpetrator this time or anymore. He wondered
what
'communist stuff' you were teaching here. For the first time in my life I
stood up to him
(I surprised him and myself). I told him quietly, 'Respect. Plain old
fashioned respect
that you always talk about. No exceptions. Respect for myself, respect
African-Americans, respect for women, respect for homosexuals, respect for other
religions. To treat everyone like us and different from us with respect. No
exceptions.
That's what he's teaching me and that's what I'm learning.' He just gave me a
startled
straight face and a humph. We were kind of quiet with each other for the rest
of the
time, but something happened between us, something good I think. I think or
want to think
that there's a respect that wasn't there before. So, I just want to thank you
for
teaching this class the way you did. You didn't preach from high up. You just
let us
find our own way by showing us the way with the films and speakers and journals
and the
play. Thanks for helping me start to make myself a better person. I'm going
to make sure
this lasts and grows, and start teaching my father--slowly.
"A nice but important fault." It felt warm to be "blamed" that way.
God knows
how many times I re-read his message. It sure got me to thinking. In simplest
terms, we
academics too often calculate success by status, renown, and position. The
traditional
way of looking at someone's academic life is to read the resume of her or his
accolades
and achievements, that is, the degrees, tenure, publications, grants, and
administrative
positions. Seventeen years ago, my definition of success started changing from
"important" to "significant," from wanting to be important to wanting to do
important
things. You know that's what Peter Drucker meant when he urge achievers to
"move beyond
success to significance." Sure, feeling academically successful, having that
list of
publications and grants, having secured tenure, having received that promotion,
having
acquired that title, can make someone feel satisfied and accomplished. I know
it did me.
But, feeling significant, feeling that your life means something, knowing that
your life
matters, knowing that you made a difference--a positive--in someone's life,
knowing that
the world is a bit better for you having been here, well, that's another thing.
And, I've
found out since 1991, that's far more potent and lasting than any book,
article, grant, or
title. I loved the scholarly things I did and accomplished, but it doesn't
match up to
making a difference in someone's life. Having helped a few people help
themselves to
become the people they are capable of becoming: thats really what I want to be
remembered
for.
Make it a good day.
--Louis--
Louis Schmier
http://therandomthoughts.edublogs.org/
Department of
History http://www.newforums.com/Auth_L_Schmier.asp
Valdosta State University www. halcyon.com/arborhts/louis.html
Valdosta, Georgia 31698 /\ /\ /\ /\
(229-333-5947) /^\\/ \/ \ /\/\__/\ \/\
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