When I was a sophomore in high school, we learned about world religions. In a very early form of project-based learning, we researched religions in small groups and presented to our class. My group researched Shinto, and our presentation included a cake with a torii gate made out of frosting. (Like all good Midwesterners, we tried to turn every event into a potluck.) Mrs. DeVore, my World History teacher, wasn’t trying to convert us; she was trying to educate us. I grew up in Pomeroy, Iowa, with a population of approximately 800 people at that time. I’m guessing more than 95% of them would identify as Christian, so I didn’t know a single Muslim. When I went to college, my worldview expanded a bit, but not much, as Wartburg College had a fairly homogeneous student body. But because of Mrs. DeVore and 10th grade World History, I understood that others had different beliefs than I did. Now as an adult I am a committed Christian and follower of Jesus. I of course have friends who are Christians. I also now have friends who are atheists, Buddhists, Muslims, and agnostics. I love them as well. My friendships with those of other faiths do not diminish my faith in Christ; in fact, learning about other beliefs has only strengthened my own. Today I teach high school English in rural Northwest Iowa with a student body that closely mirrors that of my high school in Pomeroy: homogenous in race and religion. Last spring I worked to dispel my students’ preconceived notions about race as we read To Kill a Mockingbird, and this fall I’m realizing that I face a similar challenge in their staunchly held notions about Islam. We’re in the middle of a unit in our textbook focusing on how history and culture influence literature. Last week we journaled about major events that have influenced the lives of my students. Our discussion led to the war on terrorism and fear of Muslims. One girl shared about the palpable fear she felt upon seeing a woman in a hijab in a store. In response to a question based on “The Montgomery Boycott” by Coretta Scott King another boy shared that he believed Donald Trump was trying to positively change society by deporting Muslims so that we Americans can enjoy our country. Most frightening of all, one student reflected after reading about internment camps for Japanese-Americans during World War II that he thought internment camps for Muslims might be just what our country needed to feel safe again. So many of my students are scared of that which is different. I think that sums up the mindset of many Americans. These students are reflecting the sentiments of their parents and their grandparents: You are different than I am, and I am afraid. When we are children, we fear the dark because we don’t know what is lurking there. Our imaginations lead us to worst-case scenarios of boogeymen and kidnappers, and because of the dark, the truth of light cannot penetrate. Similarly as adults, many fear those who are “other” because their reality is unknown. “What does it mean to be a Muslim?” I don’t understand, so therefore I am afraid. The threat of terrorism, of course, only heightens that fear. However, without education, our children will stay in the dark. My job grows infinitely more difficult as I attempt to break down the walls in my students’ minds. I love my students, and I don’t want them to live an existence ruled by fear. I’m sure teachers around the country are facing similar difficulties. Yes, I must teach the standards of developing a claim in writing and drawing evidence from informational texts, but I also feel that it’s my duty to prepare these students to live in a world where not every person will look and believe exactly as they do. Historical selections from our textbook bring us to the difficult conversations. The lens of literature provides a springboard, so we leap. Like Mrs. DeVore before me, I seek to educate, not convert. After all, God is not a God of fear and ignorance; He is a God of truth and light. Hopefully someday soon my students will forge friendships with a Muslim boy or girl or get the chance to interact with a refugee. That relationship, like my friendships with those who believe differently than I do, just might lead to a deeper love for humanity, and I truly believe that love will drive out any fear.
1 Comment
Emily Parrott
12/14/2015 08:37:15 am
This is really sad to me. I suppose if I were to think of a demographic of people to be the least afraid and the most open to changing the world around them, it would be teenagers and young adults. It's disheartening to hear that they are buying into the fear as well.
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