I kind of feel guilty that I advertised that I would be blogging about my experiences in Britain. You probably weren't expecting such ideological posts from me. I wasn't anticipating it myself either, but these are thoughts that have been swirling around in my head for quite some time. Gaining clarity in these topics has been a quintessential (Britons use this word ALL the time) part of my "me journey" I think. It was probably the mixture of scholarly ambience, impressive reading sources, and delightful coffees that have been a catalyst for understanding my role in life, and consequently, my career, all stemming from the values my family has built my entire life.
So, I thank you, readers, for sticking with me even when pretty pictures didn't make it onto the screen or juicy descriptions of jaw-dropping cathedrals. Just know, the trip to Stonehenge or Isle of Wight all fits into this somehow. It reminds me that I truly am just reaching for how to best serve as a human. I feel as though God has given us such incredible unity as a body of people that it's only right for all to feel connected to other humans. I have a bit of a habit of glorifying the good and skimming over the bad. This trip, of course, wasn't perfect. I didn't walk down the streets feeling absolutely filled of joy everyday. Some days, I laid in bed a bit longer than I wanted or should. Some days, being pummeled by rain really pissed me off. Some days, studying the phonetics of Middle English was quite peeving and tiresome. Some parts of my days were just plain dull. But, I tried my best to catch myself in my downtrodden hours and purposefully plan to 'make it up.' My goal for this trip was to balance spontaneity with itineraries. What do I want to see, no if's or but's about it and what do I want to come across in my explorations? Food would drift in and out of my path each day, giving me the space to choose on a whim what seemed tasteful that day. Museums would loom next to me throughout my time, begging me to come inside. So, I checked the planner and marked a date for the exhibits. And to top it all off, I didn't even have to choose spontaneity or planning when it came to being in the natural world. My feet would take me next to ponds and roses every day. It's where I feel closest to that sense of being human. Someone asked me, "So they teach LGBTQ+ history in school now?" It wasn't necessarily in a pleasant tone. I took a second to absorb the question. Are they asking if teachers specifically leave out certain people or stories? To be frank, I'm not sure they understand what history means. History = facts. Would I leave out Jewish history in my classes even though a majority of my students do not practice that faith? Would I leave out black history in my classes even though a majority of my students aren't black? Oh, wait, we do that already... The point is, I am a teacher who will present knowledge. My students are free to choose their ideologies, but I am prepared to not manipulate my curriculum to fit people's opinions, including my own. I captured this image at the Pride Parade in Oxford City Centre. This was the first time I saw a flag that stood for 'straight ally.' I was happy to see that. We're all in this together and it's not heterosexual vs. homosexual.
"People are starting to realize there are marginalizations, but they are still the ones writing the margins" (The Development of Standard English).
We as humans like the idea of others conforming to our opinions. Because, obviously, yours is the best one, right? I know that's how my mind works. Right now, I wish everyone conformed to environmentalist practices because I believe it will help our planet. But, the person next to me might not believe in climate change. We have differing values. In the end, I'm not a dictator. I think that's the argument people may have with reproduction rights. It seems to be an infringement on the separation between religion and state. Are they asking others to conform to their beliefs? But where's the line? We have to come up with laws eventually. Which side does it go to? Shouldn't it go to majority? That's the problem. There will always be a minority. The question is, who has power and who is being represented? The more representation, the more accurate view of public interest, or majority really. Even when it comes to standardized tests, the concept is still there. We want our students to be successful and in order to measure that, we had to create a standard curriculum and testing across the board to be informed on where they stand. But, what if they don't fit those intelligences, those standards? Then what? They won't be successful? They aren't as valued? It's a big internal struggle for me. I can't let the majority of my students be forgotten in order to help those who may not fit that majority, but I cannot give up on the marginalized either. Will there always be margins? Who gets to write them? Even though I enjoy my English classes, I will spend hours upon hours in my Education course work. I'm fired up about students. I really am. So, I honestly wasn't sure why I felt such a pull for Medieval Literature in Oxford.
I didn't understand why I wanted to go right into the heart of privilege when I could've been spending my time with children who haven't been given access to education, power, or privilege in a Zambia opportunity. It's here, in Oxford, that I'm starting to understand how privilege even began, meaning white Western privilege. God knew I was struggling with the 'why.' He knew I wasn't going to be able to get past this gap without going back to the beginning of "The Standard." I knew oppression existed. I knew I was part of the privileged. But, I no longer could take anyone else's claims as to why this divide existed until I dove into it for myself. The thing is, it has landed in my lap. I thought, well I guess my heart is telling me to go to Oxford because it's a "me" journey. That has still held true. I also thought it was an opportunity to dig into my expertise to be an English teacher, for me to really become an expert in my field. That has also held true. However, time and time again, my readings about the history of English has come to life in how I understand oppression, how language has played into privileges since the beginning. We see it all the time. Black dialects impact privilege. People with dyslexia are impacted, those with a Spanish accent or someone with a speech impediment. The list goes on. We create a standard because it's easier for our brain, but yet we know it's harmful to those left on the outside of it. I knew my heart was drawn to the history of language for a reason. Language gives us access to power and it started from the dawn of Geoffrey Chaucer who decided what Standard English was going to sound like due to his literary piece, The Canterbury Tales, that served as a bridge between upper and lower classes. The narrative poems were a huge success and timing was everything; he was cited continuously by other writers, making his dialect the desirable one. People with other dialects didn't have a Chaucer to represent them. Thus, a standard is made... It would be completely unfair of me to make the leap from Chaucer to white privilege, but the concept is there. When only one type of dialect, race, religion, sexual orientation, body type, viewpoint is voiced, then oppression thrives. The importance of representation is often pushed to the wayside. "It's not my fault for what I was born with." That goes both ways. And it's not about fault. It's about accepting the fact that we don't understand what it's like to be in each other's shoes unless we listen to lots of different stories. We can't listen to only some. It's important to have representation of many and not just the fantastical ideal standard if we are truly going to be a nation committed to public interest. I am in awe of these architectural wonders that I get to study in. I wonder who built them... I wonder if they were paid... I wonder how many wish they could have gotten an education...
Even though I've been thoroughly enjoying my studies in Oxford about the history of language, I have to realize that I am still shielded from the truth. I have only been able to find two female Medieval Literature writers so far. I have not found any person of color's writing in Middle English. I have to believe that someone out there wrote during that time period. Yet again, think about who was privileged enough to be taught how to read and write in the United Kingdom area. Not very many women. Not very many people of color. Not very many poor people. Not very many Jewish people. Not very many... Not very many... I will always celebrate the process of finding the roots of my language and the roots of communication in general; it impacts how we convey messages and opinions everyday, but as a responsible citizen, I have to be aware of whose stories are left out. Prejudice affects all of the historical findings. “The best safeguard against prejudice is knowledge.” And that, is also why I teach. It occurred to me that I might never truly be a writer because the joy I felt after walking into the largest bookstore in Oxford didn't match the joy of this squandering process, transferring these thoughts into visible words. I'm a learner really. And I want my students to become learners. I'm not sure I have a ton to say. Maybe one day I will. But overall, I want to teach so that my students are heard one day, not that I am heard one day.
I love all the new thinking spheres that this city offers. There are century-old libraries, dreamy park benches, robin-egg-blue cafes, and stone-walled pubs. You see books propped up in neighborhood house windows and newspapers adjacent to coffee cups. I walk past more bookstores than I do ice-cream shops, much to my demise sadly. I wish it were equal!
Croissants have been my thing though which is odd. I keep telling myself that I'm not in France silly goose, but there I go again, ordering a fresh, buttery croissant to keep my Shakespeare and I company as I sip on a mocha. I haven't had a cup of tea yet. I'm thoroughly disappointed in myself! It's apparently what you drink with other people, or at least that is what I have observed so far. They give you a pot of it and sip on it together like royalty. It's awesome. I'll have to amuse people enough to become my friends so that I can have my very own tea party. I'll try to invite the Queen. Putting the food aside, my favorite element of the town would be the landscaping. The lushness, oh my! Greenery is chomping at the bit to sprawl onto sidewalks or brick walls. The blooming flowers are limitlessly lovely. My favorite walk has been right behind my apartment. There is a pathway that runs along a river, sprightly with shiny navy boats, healthy ducks, and families of willow trees. |
Greetings!I'm Kelly! I like to find beauty in what might seem mundane to us over time and bring to life what we experience each day. Check out the About Me tab for an additional look at who I am. Archives
July 2019
Taking an image, freezing a moment, reveals how rich reality truly is. |