Regardless of the reasons why it didn't happen, I know what I want: engaged students every step of the way. That investment in time must provide me immediate return, onto which I can bank that long term effects are plausible. I am building daily on a blueprint created many years ago, when a long trip provided me a clear life goal. Of course, I also must find ways to steady my mood and know I cannot control all the variables that allow a student to be an engaged one.
How an e-mail scored me another travel gig
But for me, nothing proves more fruitful than re-engaging in this multi-faceted industry. I like travel, media, the digital realm, education, art, and a unique combination of all. While my involuntary immersion practices don't allow for fully connected 'field' time with my peers, it's in those months between travels that I reemerge a human with new ideas and the ability to answer e-mails. And on this particular instance, I truly realized how few degrees are in between me and something I would love - the same goes for you, too, I'm sure.
Tooty in the Classroom: Day 23
This post was syndicated to Semester at Sea's Shipmates publication for a new column called "My Life at Sea." As if every day isn't a remarkable gift, I experienced something today that had me choking back tears from unfathomable intensity.
Today, I slept through class due to an unknown time zone change and punished myself in the form of compartmentalized exercise and resumé construction. After our typical hilarious lunch time antics, I struggled through a tedious exam, ran down to deck 2 for a quick shower, and then situated myself within arms length of the front chair in my next classroom.
Desmond Tutu
While I am normally magnetized to the window seat in the back, which usually curbs my seasickness, I relocated in order to improve the vista that I am sure remember my entire life. That swiveling seat and chilled glass of water sitting ahead of me was reserved for the most accomplished man I've ever shared oxygen with, Archbishop Desmond Tutu. His tangible presence summoned immediate attention and respect upon entering the room, even though his wardrobe included board shorts, knee high dress socks, and black leather flip flops. We were all poised with smiles, straight backs, and pencils in the air when he rose to speak from the adjacent podium, but he immediately expressed his own humility ever so subtly in an attempt to homogenize the classroom. Tutu transformed himself from a living legend into the every man within minutes, contradicting all our preconceived assumptions as to why he became an priest and what he was like as a child (entranced by comic books). He became a cartoon character, a goofy man with a drive to inspire the youthful that inspire him unknowingly.
I left with welling tears in a state of intrigued confusion, knowing it would be a while before I could fathom what just happened.
On this ship of dreams, it's just another day when the most famous archbishop in the world speaks to your classroom. At home, it's a jaw dropping phenomenon.