My daughter is 12. I'm not sure how that happened. Sure, it sounds nostalgic, the imagery etched with too much pathos and saccharine. But, the granularity of moments is infinitely small in hindsight; they never add up to the squares on the calendar, the steps pressed into the memory of the carpet pad.
I'm surrounded by students--or rather I'm sitting with students as a peer, as a member of our mutual discourse community. The space is hard to define: sometimes bound by walls and time and space, other times asynchronous, defined by our interests and the give and take of conversation. Everyone asks questions of each other, seeks answers. Together, we seek knowledge.
If there was a goal, a way for me to measure how I have become to be situated in the world, I'd reflect on my interactions with students. How have they influenced me? How have I influenced them? Has our temporary convergence made us more empathetic, compassionate, able to achieve the goals we set for ourselves, to encourage us to seek understanding instead of conflict?
In this way, I'll have given my best to her.
"Waiting for the Lord to rise, I look into my daughter's eyes and realize I'm gonna learn through her. The Messiah might even return through her. If I'm gonna do it, I gotta change the world through her." - Common, "Be"
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