Hope, she said. He left a little trace of hope in the midst of all
that horror and despair. The last time I saw the painting, I was in Madrid, and
it has the most wonderful home in the Reina-Sofia. So now you are probably wondering what can art do for me in my current state
of mind?
The thing is, I teach teachers. All through this campaign I
have heard their fears and misgivings, the incredulity of how to explain to
young people the things that so easily travel through airwaves, TV, paper
headlines, and onto our devices that are perpetually in our hands. Just when we
thought it couldn’t get worse it did. Comparisons are being made to events in
our past that are still beyond our comprehension. The urge to flee, to escape
the daunting realities of our two political parties in complete disarray, our
rich-poor, urban-rural, black-white, straight-gay glaring divisions, and our
electoral map a sea of red and pink sandwiched between thin slices of blue, is
stronger than ever. We all feel the democratic experiment is blowing up, and
wonder how we can possibly find hope in the ruins.
Young people are our hope. If ever there were a time to
argue for the importance of education, for upholding the values that have been
the cornerstones of our still fragile democracy, it is now. We must all
participate in teaching the young what it means to deliberate on problems and
work together on solutions, how to compromise, listen, persuade, and compel
people to take action that will improve lives and livelihoods. We have to be
good role models for them, get off our devices and talk to them, get them to
talk to each other, ask questions, investigate answers, and get creative. We
need art. We need hope. Think of the flower. It is all about the flower.
I feel numb. But I will think of the flower a symbol of hope.
ReplyDeleteI used the painting in a Tuesday workshop with teachers.
ReplyDeleteFantastic
ReplyDelete