It’s odd how exhausted you can become just trying to be understood! I can’t imagine being one of the Jordanians and trying to speak, learn and understand in an entirely different language. Still, their English is remarkable, and their stamina much better than my own!
I woke up this morning to booming thunder and lightening, and decided against my morning run. After yesterday afternoon's excursion to Theo Chocolate Factory, I probably shouldn't have skipped! Before the chocolate factory, we spent the morning with Mark Winschitl, a UW professor and long time colleague. Mark and I have worked together numerous times over the years, most recently on the HIV curriculum for NWABR. As we discussed theories of teaching, I was impressed by the Jordanians earnest wish to express their ideas, and also with how difficult it is to communicate complicated ideas in another language. I can easily see how misunderstandings develop between people who may be communicating in a different language from their native tongue. It’s like unfolding a paper that has a complicated picture drawn on it. If there are many folds, and you open just one or two, you may get the wrong impression of what the picture really is portraying. You must be patient, and unfold the paper carefully, making sure you don’t tear it, and then the picture, like the idea, becomes revealed in all its complexity and beauty. Today, as we worked on a constructionist approach to teaching math with Sunshine (yes, that is her name!), I was again impressed with the fact that we all need to listen carefully. Mustafa was explaining his ideas, using tiles and gestures, and finally, after much drawing and demonstration, I understood his idea! It was a great way to approach the problem, and we used it in our presentation. The point of most of these sessions is to introduce other ways to view teaching and how students learn, but I find myself more impressed by the underlying lessons, about people's views of the world and how we can relate better to other cultures. Kevin and Tina, both 2007 participants in the JET program, spoke of the “moments” that would occur, those special times when you realize that this particular conversation, event, or personal interaction will change you forever. As Mustafa, Richard and I walked back to the dorms yesterday, one of those “moments” occurred. I was explaining to Mustafa that I felt differently about the Jordanian women’s custom of covering up. It had not occurred to me how freeing that could be. When I first met Rabia, she was, of course, completely covered. She has lovely, flashing dark eyes and a smile that lights up her face, but she also has a personality that is intense, serious, and yet fun loving. As we interacted throughout the day, I found myself concentrating on her, her ideas, her personality, what she felt and thought. It was as though her personality was distilled and intensified, because the physical shell was covered and closed to me. All I had of Rabia was her words, her expressions, her ideas. I found myself paying close attention to her as she spoke, carefully regarding the ideas she was sharing. It was all about Rabia’s ideas, her meaning, not her physical self. As I explained this to Mustafa his eyes lit up and he exclaimed, “Exactly! You have it exactly! You understand!” He was so delighted, as was I, that we had understood one another so completely, that an aspect of their culture was understood by a westerner. I now understand why some women choose to continue to wear the head scarf and long, concealing coats. There is a certain sense of freedom that comes with knowing that others are relating to you based completely upon your ideas and personality without the distraction of relating to you as a woman. I will never consider that form of dress a limitation or a lack of freedom for women. It’s not. It’s a choice and I not only respect it, I can see why many women, especially professional women, choose to adopt this dress in their own countries. Lessons like these I will treasure forever. These are the lessons that speak to my heart.
I woke up this morning to booming thunder and lightening, and decided against my morning run. After yesterday afternoon's excursion to Theo Chocolate Factory, I probably shouldn't have skipped! Before the chocolate factory, we spent the morning with Mark Winschitl, a UW professor and long time colleague. Mark and I have worked together numerous times over the years, most recently on the HIV curriculum for NWABR. As we discussed theories of teaching, I was impressed by the Jordanians earnest wish to express their ideas, and also with how difficult it is to communicate complicated ideas in another language. I can easily see how misunderstandings develop between people who may be communicating in a different language from their native tongue. It’s like unfolding a paper that has a complicated picture drawn on it. If there are many folds, and you open just one or two, you may get the wrong impression of what the picture really is portraying. You must be patient, and unfold the paper carefully, making sure you don’t tear it, and then the picture, like the idea, becomes revealed in all its complexity and beauty. Today, as we worked on a constructionist approach to teaching math with Sunshine (yes, that is her name!), I was again impressed with the fact that we all need to listen carefully. Mustafa was explaining his ideas, using tiles and gestures, and finally, after much drawing and demonstration, I understood his idea! It was a great way to approach the problem, and we used it in our presentation. The point of most of these sessions is to introduce other ways to view teaching and how students learn, but I find myself more impressed by the underlying lessons, about people's views of the world and how we can relate better to other cultures. Kevin and Tina, both 2007 participants in the JET program, spoke of the “moments” that would occur, those special times when you realize that this particular conversation, event, or personal interaction will change you forever. As Mustafa, Richard and I walked back to the dorms yesterday, one of those “moments” occurred. I was explaining to Mustafa that I felt differently about the Jordanian women’s custom of covering up. It had not occurred to me how freeing that could be. When I first met Rabia, she was, of course, completely covered. She has lovely, flashing dark eyes and a smile that lights up her face, but she also has a personality that is intense, serious, and yet fun loving. As we interacted throughout the day, I found myself concentrating on her, her ideas, her personality, what she felt and thought. It was as though her personality was distilled and intensified, because the physical shell was covered and closed to me. All I had of Rabia was her words, her expressions, her ideas. I found myself paying close attention to her as she spoke, carefully regarding the ideas she was sharing. It was all about Rabia’s ideas, her meaning, not her physical self. As I explained this to Mustafa his eyes lit up and he exclaimed, “Exactly! You have it exactly! You understand!” He was so delighted, as was I, that we had understood one another so completely, that an aspect of their culture was understood by a westerner. I now understand why some women choose to continue to wear the head scarf and long, concealing coats. There is a certain sense of freedom that comes with knowing that others are relating to you based completely upon your ideas and personality without the distraction of relating to you as a woman. I will never consider that form of dress a limitation or a lack of freedom for women. It’s not. It’s a choice and I not only respect it, I can see why many women, especially professional women, choose to adopt this dress in their own countries. Lessons like these I will treasure forever. These are the lessons that speak to my heart.
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