I have lost count of the countries I have traveled to, worked in, and lived in. I spend my days speaking French at home and English at work. My kids take German and Chinese classes after school. On Mondays and Wednesdays, I spend my days teaching foreign students--their places of birth circle the globe: Mexico, Guatemala, Honduras, Brazil, Cuba, Japan, China, Korea, Taiwan, Cameroon, Egypt, Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, Afghanistan, India, Germany, France, Spain, Italy and on and on and on and on. None of this makes me special. It make me an aberration in a family of otherwise blue collar workers and anti-intellectuals, but not special in the positively attributed sense. What it makes me is lucky. Very very lucky.
Perhaps not surprisingly, the ubiquity of internationalism and languages and cultures in my life has served to normalize them. On the one hand, this has been positive. I want my children to grow up in a household of global citizens; but it has a downside, too: it sometimes removes the excitement and newness that travel offers the less globally seasoned. This is of course a good problem to have and you will hear no complaints from me. But it’s the truth. A life lived across the globe is sometimes one desensitized to the small pleasures of minor cultural differences. I’m telling you all this because South Africa did not feel that way. South Africa, for whatever reason, felt wholly and entirely new all while it was wholly and entirely comfortable. I have no explanation for this except to say that it reminded me of what I love about traveling and learning amongst others. This trip was everything I might have hoped and more. South Africa was everything I hoped and more. The amount I gained as a teacher, a profession I consider a vocation, was everything I hoped and more. I joked about a South Africa 2.0, but I was only half kidding (more like 0% kidding if I’m honest). The truth is that this course highlighted for me all the things I still have to learn about inclusive education in international contexts. And any course that leaves you with more questions than you started with is worth its weight in gold for me. There is no pursuit more worthy that realizing how little you know and diving back in for more. Thank you for everything, South Africa! 2.0!!!!!
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AuthorI'm Kelly. I teach English as a Second Language, business English, and writing. I eat poems for dinner. Archives
January 2019
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