Walking to school with the masses en route to work... heavy heads hang with the weight of late nights and early morning dreams still lingering in the corners of eyes glazed with what might be. Suddenly there is routine to my life - a morning commute Africa style, not quite the hustle and bustle of a subway or freeway but somehow that familiar look on faces painted with the stasis of struggle to survive be it in a boardroom or a streetside market.
I wonder if the laughing bird is mocking my hubris, thinking I might transform young minds through drama. Perhaps I too have fallen into the trap so beautifully expressed by Freire: the banking concept of teaching in which the teacher holds all knowledge and deposits it into the empty receptacle of the student mind with no regard for the intricacies of what comprises each individual - seeing all as void of content. Did I think I would fill these minds with a passion for theatre? Was I so blind to my own arrogance thinking they would open arms to the art I love? "Ha ha ha hahahaha," says the bird. I can't help but laugh along with him.
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Your passion is contagious. Screw Friere! Students learn more from non-verbal cues than the phrases teachers spew at them. If you love what you do, your students what love you and what you do.
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