GranolaBox

My second period class is in an ultra-large room divided by a removable wall. Usually it’s a curse because it doesn’t block any sound, but this morning it was one of the greatest blessings I’ve ever received.

My friend Jim teaches Genocide Studies on the other side of the wall, and asked if I could get my kids to be especially quiet to accomodate his guest speaker. As I mentally pictured my kids doing a half-assed job learning about the rise of Communism in China, I asked if we could move the wall over and combine our classes which he agreed to most enthusiastically.

I’d taught about the holocaust before and a couple days after the Christmas break and was very disappointed both with my inability to really “punch” the kids in the stomach with anything they found meaningful, and with my students to get their heads out of their day to day minutae of life to have just the slightest bit of empathy for the victims of the holocausts we’d studied.

This, I thought, was my chance.

Mr. Mutz was about 9 years old when the Germans invaded Poland, and shortly thereafter began his journey from one ghetto to another, then one labor camp to another, and finally, miraculously to liberation at the end of the war. He and his father both survived and moved to the United States, where Mr. Mutz was drafted into the Army where he served, ironically in Germany. This was fortuitous because it enabled him to testify against some of the people who’d murdered friends, family and other people he’d come to know on his torturous journey.

No child, woman or man should ever have to endure what this man went through so early in his life. We’re all familiar with what went on the holocaust, but to hear it from a living person, and in such detail was far more moving to me than any documentary or reading could possibly be. This man went through hell at the hands of the Nazis. What makes him far more amazing to me is that he’s willing to mentally relive this hell through his presentation.

His presentation shook me to the core for several reasons that I’m only now starting to put my finger on.

My wife and I have been putting a lot of pieces together about the economic future of our country. I’ll be writing more about that as I’m able, but let me assure you folks… it ain’t pretty. Between imminent economic collapse and the very real arrival of peak oil production throughout most of the world, life is destined to get a lot tougher for all of us except the ones who’ve brought these conditions about. They’ll be fine.

However, even in the worst case scenario, which is what the Queen of my Universe is kind of obsessing over now, we won’t go through anything even close to what Mr. Mutz went through. All of what I’ve perceived as hardship throughout my life, and what I’m starting to believe I’ll face in later life will be trivial compared to his experiences. It makes me feel like a real asshole for complaining about ANYTHING.

My students, especially this year fill me with a sense of dread about the future. I’m not one of those typical old farts who bitch about today’s kids a lot, and I try like hell not to be one of those old fart teachers who feels nothing but contempt for their students and bitches about them every chance they get.

That being said, I’m going to do it now anyway. The kids in Jim’s Genocide Studies class were far more engaged than mine. They have to have at least a few ounces of empathy to enroll in the class at all. They were fine.

My kids, after several REALLY dirty looks on my part got the picture that they needed to be respectful and that they’d better shut the hell up for this presentation. Most of them managed to do that. Many got fidgety, which I can forgive easily enough, but then many took advantage of the anonymity in the back of the room to doodle pictures, and exchange some quiet “tee hee’s” and giggles with others sitting near them. One boy, ironically the only Jewish kid in class, fell asleep.

Kids in years past have been riveted on these presenters, and on just about any lesson on the holocaust. As years go by, I see increasingly more apathy and far less empathy. Sleep, tearing up sheets of paper and making funny faces at friends took precedence over hearing a survivor of one the many tragedies of the past century.

This, I fear is typical of the kind of pervasive apathy that we face as a nation. This war won’t stop because we’re divorced from the day to day reality of what it means to be killing innocent Iraqi men, women and children. We don’t see graphic pictures of the aftermath of battles, and if we did, I’m not sure it would make any difference. The body count of American soldiers as of today is just eight short of 4,000. We’re forbidden from seeing their coffins in the press, or seeing those soliders lying dead in the battlefield, but I’m not sure it would make any difference if we could.

This cloud of apathy has me frustrated and depressed as a teacher and citizen. As a history teacher I try to get students to recognize the mistakes made in the past and inspire them to do something when those things are obviously happening again. But with few exceptions, the next band coming to town, Apple’s latest product, where the party is next weekend or who the next American Idol will be are far more important issues.

With the dumbing of America by the mainstream press, and to a large extent by the system I’m a part of, it’s hard to see hope for change and hope for the future. It’s getting harder and harder to work for change, and to write for change.

And after writing all this, and thinking “why bother?” I think about Mr. Mutz, and I have hope again. He’s seen humanity at its absolute worst and represents what’s best about humanity. So I’ll keep on trying to make the world a better place. Today my inspiration comes from Mr. Mutz, and after that I’ll have to dig for even more inspiration because I refuse to give up hope.

Filed under: General Observations, History, Politics on January 14th, 2008