A Teacher's Travels & Search for Math/Science Theorems that aren't Named after White Men |
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A Teacher's Travels & Search for Math/Science Theorems that aren't Named after White Men |
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Dumela and compliments of the season. "Neither here nor there." This phrase is used frequently in Bots and in South Africa. I actually had to urban dictionary its meaning because I have been understanding it differently depending on how it is used, and I also feel that we don't really use it. According to the world wide web, it can mean, "not important or relevant," "besides the point," or even "betwixt or between." Let's use the third meaning for this post. I feel a bit "betwixt and between." My work is betwixt and between at this amorphous stage too.
"Just don't be a dumb ass" This was my first official week as Fulbright DAT. It began with a massive extermination project of the ancient but resilient group, the cockroaches, in my new apartment. After that scary project, I woke up Monday morning excited to further explore sweltering Gaborone (Gabs as people call it). My mom's former student, Moabi, a documentary film maker, eclectic space creator, TV director, extraordinaire, showed me around the UB campus and some parts of Gabs I had yet to see. We went book shopping, and I was disappointed to find that most of the books in the bookstore fell into several categories---Christian/religious, on business, or were South African. I'll write more on religion, arguments on "modernity" and consumerism in Bots in future posts, when I'm better versed. Also, very few texts were in Setswana, which I was hoping to find, as I enjoy learning languages through literature. Instead, I picked up a collection of short stories all taking place in Soweto (which holds a dear spot in my heart, but is not Motswana). Wednesday, I met with my adviser at the University of Botswana, a sleepy, quiet campus still, and she introduced me to my mentor, others in the department and gave me my office. Everyone is very generous, accommodating--like, stop everything we're doing and find Tess a computer mouse, and give her a proper Tswana lunch, accommodating. Later in the week, I went thru a very American security briefing--simultaneously casual, joke-y and fear mongering. I met with the program officers of Fulbright in Bots, who can barely do their job, as they are still furloughed and/or forced to come to work without pay or permission to do the bulk of their jobs. I then traveled to a very large village about an hour away from Gabs called Molepolole, to accompany another embassy person to her post. There is a lot of traffic to get to Molepolole because of the frequent cow, goat or donkey crossings. I've made some new Batswana friends who have been showing me all the lovely spots, I was advised not to go to in my security briefing, such as a beautiful man-made dam--an ideal place for watching one of the world's best sunsets, but heavily frequented by Afrikaners who left South Africa, I'm guessing toward the end of apartheid, but I'm not entirely sure. "Hey Ms. Raser. It was many fights since you left" Also this week, my students back in Chicago have been messaging, emailing and commenting on my teacher Instagram and Facebook pages. They're struggling to make some good choices in my absence. A few fights have broken out between people I would never even think ever considered fighting, and of course some of the children have recently been impacted by the gun violence that is disturbingly always present in their lives. It is because of their contact this week, that I decided to read a stack of letters they wrote to Batswana students, that I brought with me. Students were prompted to write about life in America, which for them is life in their few blocks of west Englewood in Chicago, in their dreams of money and exploration and in their player mode in Fortnite. Not surprisingly, every student wrote about an aspect of beauty of Chicago---deep dish pizza, the lake, museums---coupled with, "but they shoot here;" "I think they shoot people because someone in their own family probably been killed;" "we have a lot of homeless people; " when it's hot out, they shoot the most." It's currently 95 degrees here, and that's not as hot as its been or will get. Tomorrow there is a high of 102 degrees. There are no shootings, no fighting and no real arguments I've seen. In fact, peace and being peaceful, is something, in which, Batswana take pride. Now, I think sometimes civil unrest is healthy and necessary for the progression and/or empowerment of people, but more on that in future posts, once I learn more. However, peace is a great thing and Botswana is a peaceful country with police officers who do not even carry guns. "Laleme le le lengwe ga le a lekanela" Today, I'm grappling with my joy---joy from this adventure, discovery, joy from the warm sun, and mostly, the joy that comes with a freedom I feel whenever I'm on this continent to carve out my own black identity, that is truer to the person I am as opposed to the person I often feel expected to be. This morning a student wrote me, "Can't wait for your comeback." My "comeback"--something I've already fantasized postponing, postponing and postponing, until a "comeback" will be only a visit. I'm just sitting with this feeling and meanwhile, hanging up their letters as a reminder of why I'm here doing this work in the first place. Anyone who knows me, knows how much I love to study---writing a 120 thesis, after intense fieldwork, interviews and yearlong research, was one of my favorite life moments. This week I've been deep into study--mapping out which schools I plan to visit not just in Botswana but in the region. I'm studying how Shona culture is taught in urban schools in Zimbabwe, exploring traditional Khoisan (Basarwa) practices that are still being implemented throughout the Kalahari desert, and reading about Namibia's attitude toward Pan-Africanism as seen through their classroom pedagogy. Betwixt and between study sessions, I'm walking thru the sandy, quiet city, passing by children in ironed school uniforms and lanky cows. I'm exploring tailor shops with hanging Leteishi or shweshwe fabrics and eating seswaa and sorghum porridge. Peace and well-wishes to you all! -Tess Laleme le le lengwe ga le a lekanela
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AuthorFulbright Distinguished Award in Teaching Archives
April 2019
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