"Teaching" community

Maggie says:
Fresh from my last class, I'm sitting here thinking community and education and organizing and empowerment. Even better, I'm feeling hopeful about all of these things.

I've been co-teaching an undergraduate planning course this semester - my first-ever stint at teaching. It was one of those, "I'm scared of this so I should try it" whims, and much to my surprise, I love it. We have great students, great minds, great hearts, people that I hope will stick with planning and stick to fighting for their communities. This group can do things, and I hope they see that about themselves as much as I see it as an outsider.

The best thing about teaching is when the students challenge you, think critically about your words. I'm most certainly not a lecturer, and I think they appreciate that. A couple of weeks ago they told us that this class was different than any they'd taken because they're not being talked down to; we sit in a circle and chat and throw questions and critiques back and forth. We tell them to think critically about what's around them and who's saying what, about how to see through "expertise" and really look at underlying values. And we get gems as a result - like when a student suggested we take a break from planning to work on overthrowing capitalism, or when another brilliantly concluded that "If it's messy, you're probably doing it right."

Today our friend James Aranda came to class. The students were just captivated by his passion and commitment to his community. James brought with him two very important lessons: 1) Loss of cultural identity isn't just in history books, it's happening today, just across the river, everywhere, and 2) Education and organizing are always the answer.

I told the students that I believe the value of what James is doing - and he's working his ass off with the Westland fight, make no mistake - is in reminding us of our own agency, our own power, our own ability to create change. If my measly little planning class of fourteen undergrads comes away with a sense of their own ability to do great things and to fight for what they believe in, how much could the world be a better place as a result?

Revolutions start small. In whatever tiny way, I feel good that I'm doing something to start one of my own.