Today started in a nonchalant way. Got up at 4:30 am, turned on the computer,
brewed some coffee, and did the Washington Post crossword puzzle online. Then, I opened
my mailbox before I went into Web-CT to read student journals and project evaluations. As
I rolled down the message headings, exercising my deleting index finger, I stopped and
opened a message titled, "no longer a by-stander." It was from a student whom I'll call
Don. His words sent me into silent, slow motion:
Dr. Schmier, in this course on the Holocaust you gave me a chance to completely
change the way I think, feel, and believe I didn't want or thought I needed. I have to be
honest I took this course only because it fit my schedule. I was one of those who laughed
as we were crowed into a make-believe boxcar on that first day as we were forced to watch
some pictures of a death camp. I wasn't happy that you required that we journal every day
on our own prejudices and on the prejudices we witnessed. I didn't see the point. It was
busy work to me. I thought it was stupid that you said that our prejudices have an impact
on our feelings, thoughts, and actions and that from such supposed little things that we
do unthinkingly and naturally come the big things of disrespect, hatred, segregation,
lynchings, and the Holocaust.
I guess you could say I grew up in a racist family, which of course is going to
make me somewhat racist. Well, more than somewhat. I never realized that growing up this
way had affected me the way it had until watching the films and answering those reflecting
questions and journaling and working on the play as a victim. And I didn't even know it
until a couple of weeks ago. Something happened then that changed my view of you, this
course, me, and of other people who were different than me. I was in the farmers market
getting a watermelon (I know that this is hard to believe because it isn’t the season for
watermelon but this is a true story) and I saw this black women who my dad would call the
“N” word and I thought to myself that she was a “N” because that was how I was brought up.
But, then, a flash of some people from the last film hit me and I remembered how it felt
being put in the boxcar heading for a death camp on that first day in class and I caught
myself saying 'That's not right' and feeling I had done something wrong. I let it pass.
Anyways I was checking out, but they don’t take credit cards, and I only had 2 dollars.
The watermelon cost like $3.68 and I hear some woman behind me say “I have to buy gas but
I don't need all of this 10 dollars and I have been helped out before so here is 2 more
dollars." The woman that gave me the money was the woman who my dad would have called a
“N woman.” This nice lady who I thought was just an “N” gave me 2 dollars just for a
watermelon that I didn’t even need. This lady was poor because she told me that she had
been waiting to get gas for a month just so the price would go down. My eyes teared up
and I felt like a horrible person. I saw her differently. She changed while I was
standing there. Well, I know I changed. She wasn't a 'n' (no more in capitals). She was
just a nice person with different colored skin. I thought about that and what I had
believed for days and days and went back over my journal entries and looked at myself. It
wasn't easy admitting stuff to myself. I talked with my friends who told me to forget it,
but I couldn't get it out of my mind. As you might say, it was stuck fast in my heart.
If it wasn’t for this class I wouldn’t have felt like this. It's your fault, but a nice
and important fault. Things were happening inside me I didn't know were happening and I'm
not sure I understand. My dad and I had a hot talk over Thanksgiving when I told him not
to use the 'n' word in front of me and even asked why he thought the way he did. I wasn't
going to be a by-stander and a perpetrator this time or anymore. He wondered what
'communist stuff' you were teaching here. For the first time in my life I stood up to him
(I surprised him and myself). I told him quietly, 'Respect. Plain old fashioned respect
that you always talk about. No exceptions. Respect for myself, respect
African-Americans, respect for women, respect for homosexuals, respect for other
religions. To treat everyone like us and different from us with respect. No exceptions.
That's what he's teaching me and that's what I'm learning.' He just gave me a startled
straight face and a humph. We were kind of quiet with each other for the rest of the
time, but something happened between us, something good I think. I think or want to think
that there's a respect that wasn't there before. So, I just want to thank you for
teaching this class the way you did. You didn't preach from high up. You just let us
find our own way by showing us the way with the films and speakers and journals and the
play. Thanks for helping me start to make myself a better person. I'm going to make sure
this lasts and grows, and start teaching my father--slowly.
"A nice but important fault." It felt warm to be "blamed" that way. God knows
how many times I re-read his message. It sure got me to thinking. In simplest terms, we
academics too often calculate success by status, renown, and position. The traditional
way of looking at someone's academic life is to read the resume of her or his accolades
and achievements, that is, the degrees, tenure, publications, grants, and administrative
positions. Seventeen years ago, my definition of success started changing from
"important" to "significant," from wanting to be important to wanting to do important
things. You know that's what Peter Drucker meant when he urge achievers to "move beyond
success to significance." Sure, feeling academically successful, having that list of
publications and grants, having secured tenure, having received that promotion, having
acquired that title, can make someone feel satisfied and accomplished. I know it did me.
But, feeling significant, feeling that your life means something, knowing that your life
matters, knowing that you made a difference--a positive--in someone's life, knowing that
the world is a bit better for you having been here, well, that's another thing. And, I've
found out since 1991, that's far more potent and lasting than any book, article, grant, or
title. I loved the scholarly things I did and accomplished, but it doesn't match up to
making a difference in someone's life. Having helped a few people help themselves to
become the people they are capable of becoming: that’s really what I want to be remembered
for.
Make it a good day.
--Louis--
Louis Schmier http://therandomthoughts.edublogs.org/
Department of History http://www.newforums.com/Auth_L_Schmier.asp
Valdosta State University www. halcyon.com/arborhts/louis.html
Valdosta, Georgia 31698 /\ /\ /\ /\
(229-333-5947) /^\\/ \/ \ /\/\__/\ \/\
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/\"If you want to climb mountains,\ /\
_ / \ don't practice on mole hills" -
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