Mexican Mindset

Talking with a good friend of mine, a co-worker whom I consider a good friend, about the Mexican State of Mind...

...and we were discussing that fact that The problem with the Mexican people is that these people are afraid to change. They're resistant to it. They are scared of it.

I don't know where they get this fear. Maybe it's from their parents. Maybe it's from their church (Catholic). Maybe it's because they've been beaten down by their own government and police force for so long that they don't want to make trouble. Maybe it's because the average citizen doesn't have the right to own a gun and can't enforce change even if they wanted it.

And this presents a problem for my friend. His problem is that he cares about his country and wants to see change. He wants to see change for the better here. He wants the kids to grow up with a fighting chance at living a happy life. He wants his people to be proud of who they are, proud of where they're from, and proud of where they can go.

But he doesn't see that here. He doesn't see hope in his countryman's eyes. He doesn't hear them talking about the things they want to do in the future. He doesn't see them choosing a higher, and often more difficult, position, or deciding to take matters into their own hands. And worse, he doesn't see them teaching said higher aspirations to their kids.

Instead, he sees the values of money and sex being taught and talked about. His pet-peeve is that the people only think that they're pretty if they have money, and they're teaching that to their kids. They are only happy if they have the newest cellphone or newest car or the newest furniture, or clothes. They are only happy if their kids are foresaking their own personal happiness with regards to career choices so that their chosen professions will be money-earners, thereby making them so-much-better than the others.

And this bothers him a great deal. It frustrates him, and makes him second-guess himself regarding the work he does as a teacher. You see, unlike most teachers, he teaches life skills as well as Chemestry and Mathematics. He teaches his core subjects and also talks about the future with his students. He asks questions like, "What do you want to do with your future?" He also asks, "Where will you be in ten years?" And his students don't have a clue as to how to answer him! He's the first person in their whole lives that asks these questions in their native language! They're stimied, stupified, shocked, and stunned by his questions.

And because they can't answer him, he winds up second-guessing himself as to what changes he is making or could possibly make in his students' lives. He wonders if he is actually helping his kids find happiness in their lives. He only sees the kids one, maybe two hours a day. He knows that he is fighting an uphill battle because as soon as his students walk out the doors of the school and on to the streets and into their homes, they'll be bombarded with ideas and concepts that are quite the opposite of what he says. He doesn't know how to fight uphill.

Remembering my "Art of War" I told him that the wise man doesn't fight uphill. Instead, he plants the seeds of discontent in the other army. Since he doesn't have access into the minds of the students' parents, he can instead plant the seed of hope in his students' minds. This seed, this seed of hope and realization, once planted in their heads, will eventually sprout and take root in some of their heads. Maybe a year from now, maybe ten years from now, this seed of hope will be an oak tree, fully grown into fruition, strong and sure.

And planting that seed now... that's the best we can hope for as teachers, given our limited time and funding.

It may not sound like much, but it's been my experience that these types of seeds do take root and grown very well. The trick to our understanding is that we can't expect results right away. Great change takes time.

Beyond the Edge

I know where the edge of sanity is.
I know exactly where it is for me.
I know the way, and every day
I can recall it from a perfect memory.

Once, on a whim, I walked myself there.
I wanted to see the colors blue and grey.
It didn't take long, the journey was light.
There was no getting lost along the way.

I have been to the edge.
And I have looked down.
I have seen what is down there.
And I can tell you now.

There must be something more.