Teaching Hope: Anticipation
The first story I picked came from part sixteen and resonated with me in a different way than with what most other people probably considered when choosing their sections from the first part of Teaching Hope. I selected part sixteen because the story of Shane’s first encounter with a black person reminded me of a story my parents, especially my mother liked to share with me or remind me of when I was growing up. It begins with my family off on vacation somewhere and staying in a hotel, across the hall or somewhere adjacent to us was another young boy who was around the same age as us at that time, maybe around two or three years old. My brother and I both would play with him when we weren't busy with some other itinerary that my parents had plans for us or getting our rat tails braided and beaded (uggh). After about four day of playing together I took my mother aside after our most recent play date and sheepishly asked her if she had noticed this whole time that his skin was black. I think I might have been concerned if he was alright or that there may have been something wrong with him. After I was assured that there was nothing wrong with him or his skin I very triumphantly replied that, “I think it’s beautiful!” Similarly to Shane I was met with a new experience, but like him we both embraced the novelty and new-ness of the situation rather than shut down or try to escape from it.
The first story I picked came from part sixteen and resonated with me in a different way than with what most other people probably considered when choosing their sections from the first part of Teaching Hope. I selected part sixteen because the story of Shane’s first encounter with a black person reminded me of a story my parents, especially my mother liked to share with me or remind me of when I was growing up. It begins with my family off on vacation somewhere and staying in a hotel, across the hall or somewhere adjacent to us was another young boy who was around the same age as us at that time, maybe around two or three years old. My brother and I both would play with him when we weren't busy with some other itinerary that my parents had plans for us or getting our rat tails braided and beaded (uggh). After about four day of playing together I took my mother aside after our most recent play date and sheepishly asked her if she had noticed this whole time that his skin was black. I think I might have been concerned if he was alright or that there may have been something wrong with him. After I was assured that there was nothing wrong with him or his skin I very triumphantly replied that, “I think it’s beautiful!” Similarly to Shane I was met with a new experience, but like him we both embraced the novelty and new-ness of the situation rather than shut down or try to escape from it.
The second part I
chose, part eight, described a teacher’s presentation at a teaching seminar, or
other speaking engagement. The teacher conducting the presentation on autistic
students was herself autistic, but the part that really stuck out to me was the
change that many of the teachers had undergone from the beginning of the
presentation to the end. When the teacher on stage first asked the audience
about what they thought of when they heard the word “autistic” what they
thought. Instantly she was bombarded with a series of negative adjectives like,
“lost”, “broken”, and “incapable”. Soon as she went on though she was able to
change those word to much more positive ones like “unique” and “artistic”, that
shift alone was very encouraging to see.
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