Every week I write a quotation on the board and ask my students to write responses to it in their journals. One of our favorite quotes is by William Butler Yeats: "Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire." This quote aptly captures the reason why I teach. A group of minds in a room — thinking through problems together — can generate amazing heat and ignite a fire.
The students in my adult education classroom range in age from 16 to 65. Most have dropped out of high school and made the difficult decision to return to school to improve their skills or earn GEDs. Many of them feel discouraged about their academic abilities and are often shy about sharing their writing with each other. They live in impoverished parts of the city or rough parts of rural communities.
When a 26-year-old man was killed by a random gun incident in downtown Tallahassee, the students were upset. The local newspaper carried articles about the murder, noting that the victim was an innocent bystander and the culprits were members of local gangs. The newspaper ran an editorial called "Break a chain of violence" asking for community input on how to create a "safer and better community."
I shared the editorial with my students and asked them to brainstorm causes of the violence and solutions. Their list of causes was thoughtful and thorough: Lack of jobs and knowledge, violence on TV, too easy to get guns, parents not teaching values, video games, lack of mentors and lack of love and attention. Their solutions, too, displayed a deep understanding of the complexity of the problem: More after-school programs, police enforcement of gang laws and drug laws; neighborhood patrols, community cooperation, curfews.
I assigned my students the task of writing a letter to the paper on how to "break the chain of violence." Even the most hesitant writers were eager to take on the task. They wrote eloquent and heartfelt letters. They shared them with the class and received well-deserved praise from their fellow students on their insightful prose.
When I asked students to send those letters to the Tallahassee Democrat, most were reluctant. One young man expressed fear of retribution by the police. Another was afraid to use his name because he was concerned that other young people in his community would think he was a "snitch." Others weren't confident about their ideas or were timid about sharing their thoughts with the public.
Mazie finally took the chance and emailed her letter to the paper. The following day it was in print. "We need to have all mothers take time with their kids and talk to them. Tell your kids that they can be anything or do anything in life,” Mazie wrote. "Hug them and tell them you love them. Let them know hanging out with the wrong crowd can lead them to jail or somebody's graveyard…"
Inspired, the other students sent in letters. And one by one, they were published.
Darian's letter was particularly moving. A quiet young man with limited reading skills, Darian wrote:
"We can't be at war with our own people. We have to stop thinking it is cool to shoot somebody. We need to talk to our young kids and tell them that if you got a gun, that doesn't make you a man. Guns don't solve problems. We need to come together and talk to our people and get the problems figured out."
The next day, a response appeared in the paper praising his "powerful and insightful letter." The writer said that Darian "expressed many of the issues associated with why our youth think that having guns is either cool or in some cases necessary."
Darian and his classmates were delighted that his letter had received a response. And Darian reported that his parents were so proud of him for getting published that they took him out to dinner and told him they believed in him — something, according to him, they very rarely did.
Mazie and Darian and the others drew on their personal experiences — and on each others' wisdom — to generate ideas about how to solve one of our most immediate social problems. By writing letters to the editor, they demonstrated that they have something meaningful to say and that their voices deserve to be heard in a public forum. And perhaps most importantly, they began to see themselves as a vital part of the larger community conversation about how to end the scourge of violence. They caught a spark and lit a fire. This is why I teach.
Meisenzahl is an adult education teacher in Tallahassee, Fla.
