Little bit of politics

President Clinton was in town campaigning this weekend.

Not my town. But the town where many of my students live. The town with the closest grocery store. Best gas prices in the area, because its large enough to have more than two pumps at one store. He was there. Where the tribal college is. That's actually where he spoke. On the steps to the museum. Drum group and tipi to the left*.

I found out less than 48 hours before the event. I wish I'd known sooner. School ended on Thursday. (And most students stopped coming before then.) I would have encouraged them to go. I don't want to promote one policital agenda before another, but I do want my students to feel empowered in national politics.

I saw my politically active student at the event. He's already clear on his candidate of choice. (More so than I am of mine.) He came to school about three weeks ago telling me about a rally he'd attended in a city 4 hours away. But he was the only one.

I hadn't attended political rallies before this year. At the campaign events I've attended this year, I've learned that I get snarky when listening to political schmooze. I'm not sure that they've really influenced my vote in the primary. Still, it's the type of live-it education that I want to offer my students. When it comes so close to us, is so accessible to us**, it's so frustrating that the school can't do anything with it.


* It was interesting to classify the people at the event as locals or coming from elsewhere for the event. Racial sterotyping? Oh yeah. I say this knowing that I look like an outsider. Then again, after only living here a year, I am an outsider.

**I arrived three minutes before start time and still got to shake hands before leaving. Totally different from waiting outside in the cold for three hours to see a speech in January.

Reflections during inservice

The prayer at the beginning of the day. The songs on the drum, so solid that the room buzzes with the vibrating sound. These are the moments that help me remember that this area is a separate nation. A reminder that I am living in a foreign land.

We talk a lot about the native language dying. What I rarely hear is a discussion of how quickly, how easily, languages die. Preventing one generation from learning the language is really all it takes. The next generation the grandparents know the language, but the parents don't. Children are able to understand bits of the language they hear from grandparents, but so few are able to speak it themselves. I think any skill works this way--I didn't grow up baking bread the way my grandmother did. But I've been able to learn how to bake from cookbooks and the little experience I had when my grandmother was younger. I wonder what resources will be available in the future to help my students learn their language.