Intersecting circles of life and death

Today was a day that had a roundness to it that I appreciate. I spent the morning cutting pieces for the Home of the Brave quilt I have taken responsibility for making to give to a local family whose son was killed in Iraq in January. As I cut, of course I thought about this family, the grief they must be experiencing, and I thought about the war which has now brought grief to thousands of families in this country and in Iraq. A week ago last night I stood in a vigil to draw attention to the 5th year of the war. Last night and this morning, I heard with a sick feeling about the upsurge in violence in Sadr City and in Basra. Another NH soldier was killed 2 days ago, making 41 casualties in our small state.

This afternoon, I took the quilt pieces to the high school, where seven others joined me in sewing blocks. Together, we made ten blocks in an hour and a half. I was glad to see my former colleagues, and I SO appreciated their willingness to help on this project. Some of us had taught the young man who died, or one of his older brothers. All of us knew the family, and some of us had been on the faculty and two had been students when the oldest son died of brain cancer during his senior year. Every year, the mom makes a beautiful quilt and raffles it off to raise money for the memorial scholarship which they established after the death of their oldest son. It seems more than fitting for those of us who have been part of the extended Oyster River family to be making a quilt to express our desire to comfort them at the time of their second horrific loss.

I was most touched by the presence today of one of my close friends from the English Dept. whose brother happens to be currently stationed in Bagdad. She is not a seamstress and had not even the least idea of how to pin fabric together, but she became our seam presser, and made an important contribution to the ease with which we were able to complete so many blocks. When I thanked her for coming, she said "I have a ton of work to do, but I just thought.....if something happens to my brother, I hope someone will make a quilt for my mom." I was struck by how differently she was perceiving this afternoon's activity from all the rest of us, and just how much fear and anxiety she holds in her heart every day for her brother who is directly in death's path with every day that he remains in Bagdad.

On my way out of the building, a former student, now a sophomore was standing in the entry area, and greeted me warmly. "Hi Ms. Morgan," she said. "Hi," I said, "How are you?" "I'm doing great," she said. "I was just talking about you to one of the interns today," she said. "Oh?" I said. "Yeah," she said. "I was telling her that you were someone who knew how to tame a ninth grade class." "Well, I tried," I said, turning and smiling at her as I walked out into the parking lot. I wish I had said, "Yes, but I hope 'tamed' was not synonymous with 'squashed."" Her name was Gabby, and she was. Gabby, that is. Fortunately, she was also very smart, and had always done her reading and preparation for class. I appreciated her, at the same time that I had to constantly sit on her. So to speak.

Arriving back at home, I spent a few minutes re-planting my "Support the Troops, End the war in Iraq" sign in the stump in front of the house. All the wind and weather this winter had partially uprooted it. I will be very happy when I no longer need to have this sign out front, when the Home of the Brave quilt project can come to an end, and when we have a leader in the White House who will not risk the lives of our young people so needlessly.

On television tonight, I flipped channels and saw a rebroadcast of an interview project we carried out in American Studies called the Power of One. My dear friend Emma was the teacher/environmentalist being interviewed by two of the smartest and nicest students I have ever worked with. I had never seen their entire tape, and it was a joy to watch and to think back on the whole project which was designed to encourage kids to realize the difference that one person can make through the way he or she lives his or her life. It's a lesson for me to remember as well, when I become discouraged about the large events in the world over which I have no control.

Today, I felt the threads of my life weave together in an interesting way, through my life as a teacher, a friend, a quilter, an organizer, a political activist . . . . . a tamer of ninth graders.

Back on the Couch.....Potato

What can I say.....the new Dancing With the Stars season has started, and I'm right here, watching with just as much enjoyment as I have watched the previous 2 seasons. Some people, I'm sure, will be surprised to know that I'm a devotee of "Dancing." Others, who know that I harbored hidden desires to be a Solid Gold dancer back in the early 80s know that behind my staid, English teacher demeanor is someone who LOVES to dance, and would have loved even more, to be a dancer on ice!! Along with those two passions (hidden and unrealized) I would have loved to swim on a synchronized swim team.

So....there you have it. I'm trying hard to accept the fact that sychronized swimming, professional dancing and figure skating, along with roller derby, are probably not in the cards for me (at least in this lifetime.) Of course....I could, perhaps, start a "bucket list" and take some steps toward at least TRYING some of these hidden desires.......

Lest anyone think that I have lived an unfulfilled life because of what I've written above, that is not the case. I will let my earlier blog entries, as well as those to come reveal the generally interesting, and sometimes even exciting life I lead!! Why, just a week ago today, I was at the Boston Flower Show with three of my best friends, and that was even better than watching Dancing With the Stars!!

Three Cups of Tea

If you only read one book in 2008, make it Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortenson. It is the true story of his attempt to climb K2, only to fail, but find his calling as a builder of schools in remote Northern Pakistan. Not only is this a riveting story, it throws into sharp relief the failures of our "War on Terror." Mortenson understood very early on that education was the key to peace in the region. Even more, he understood that educating girls held the key to social change.

I had the privilege of hearing him speak a couple of weeks ago, before I had read the book, and he quoted a proverb to the effect that "If you educate a boy, you educate an individual; if you educate a girl, you educate a village." Needless to say, educating girls in some of the more extreme Muslim communities was not always a popular idea. Mortenson has had two fatwahs issued against him, he was kidnapped and caught in a firefight in Afghanistan, where he has continued his school-building in recent years.

I am in awe of the work that he has done almost single-handedly. One of the most impressive parts of what he has done is that he not only builds the schools, he buys supplies and pays or makes sure that teachers are paid. He has more than 60 schools that he keeps up and running - through earthquakes, bombings, landslides and human failures.

Mortenson himself is a self-effacing, shy person. He comes across as an ordinary person who has been able to make a difference. In reality, he is an absolutely extraordinary person, who could be a role model for all of us. Hearing him speak, I felt that he educated the audience to the truths of the history and politics of the Iraq, Afghanistan, Pakistan region in a way that was both powerful and believable. If only he could have educated the Bush regime before they started bombing the region into oblivion.

The Peace Abbey awarded Greg the Courage of Conscience Award, and indeed, he lives the courage of his convictions every single day. He has joined Atticus Finch in my pantheon of heros. They are two men, one real, one fictional, who live their lives according to the highest principles of compassion and justice. I would like to see every school in our country adopt his book as required reading for students before they graduate.