After our class ended yesterday with guest lecturer, Mr. Larievy, I distinctly remember telling someone that this class session was "one of the most memorable classes I've been a part of during my existence in education since day one." A slight exaggeration, yes, but I couldn't help but cave into the raw, bitterness sentiment I had felt at the end of the day. Maybe it was the Spanish-speaking father in the film who was somber when speaking about how proud he was to see his son graduate from elementary school. Or maybe it was Mr. Larieyy emphasizing how where everywhere else in the world, it is wrong to learn more than one language here in the United States.
Those words struck a nerve with me, because (as discussed within our small group), may it be an ethnic or cultural accent, prejudice/discrimination are commonly indirectly and directly displayed to those who spoke that way...in this nation...in 2011. As educators, hell, as Americans...hell, as humans, being able to communicate and connect with all walks of life should be a fundamental aspiration and tool for our multicultural, 6.93 billion world to learn/grow/work/live with each other. I wonder why my parents never taught me our family's Ghanaian native tongue growing up.
That could be a great dinner table discussion when I head back down to Virginia in August.
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