Student Protest

Work/Community:

In 1998, a journalist by the name of Norbert Zongo was killed. Shortly there after, students protested across the nation in order to force the government to investigate further what they called an assassination of the highest member of the free press. Every year, the protests continue. It is student led and student decided. This year, the protest started today.

English class at 7 this morning was interesting and fun. My students were in a fit of laughter due to my exaggerated stick figures meant to describe certain adjectives like short, tall, fat, thin, pretty, ugly and your mama, when there came loud chants across the courtyard. Before long, there were students yelling and banging on the door and windows of the class. They then came pouring into the room, snagging students, forcing them into their chants and protests. It was a zoo.

I have to acknowledge a bit of pride in my class. While they were being man-handled by student much older than them, they frantically wrote the remaining notes that I was furiously scribbling on the board. Some even protested the start of the protest in order to draw out a particularly large stick figure, plump and full of cake.

Once the class finally emptied, the drone of the road lay beneath my bike, I began to wonder; does anyone remember the reasons for the protest? Most of my students were not alive when Zongo was killed. They were not even twinkles in their father's eye. Is the protest just a rhythm, a part of the cycle and pulse of class here? Or does it show new generations the value of remembrance and justice, no matter the length in time?

I often wish I could open up the head of one of my students and view their the thoughts that go whirling by, to watch the zoo and riot before it breaks out in my class. Perhaps, it would make me a more effective teacher. There would be no more days of struggling to jump the cultural/generational gaps. Perhaps, I could contain the riot and tame the zoo? Or perhaps, I would join. I like zoos (though not as much as my brother) and I'm down with a little riotous action now and then.

Personal:

Since I mentioned my brother, I have wonderful news. HE IS COMING HERE! Yep, that old guy that reports to be my younger brother will be stepping off a plane to be met by his first hot taste of African air. Thrilled hardly captures it. What a Christmas gift to be able to share my work here with my family (at least a part of it)!

It will break my heart to not be with my the rest of my family this Christmas but Skype will help to heal some of that tear. I can honestly say such will be a new experience for me. In all my 28 years, I have NEVER missed a Christmas with my family. A part of me does fear that without my family, Christmas will not come. The 25th will disappear into the oblivion. Maybe, just maybe, having my little bro here will retain that day. Maybe that is why he is really coming, to deliver, with postage, the 25th.