2013年8月31日土曜日

やりかけ


 中学校教員時代の教え子がNYの自宅に泊まりにきた。顧問をしていた野球部で、副キャプテンをやっていた子だ。一年生から卒業まで、初めて全部係わらせてもらった学年の子だった。大学4年の21歳。立派に就職も決めてきた。中学卒業以来だったので、7年ぶりの再開だった。

「教え子」とは言うけども、この言葉は使う度に疑問がつきまとう。前にも書いたが、「先生」にもいろいろある。学校の先生の中で、真の恩師になるような人間は、そうはいないし、なるかならないかは生徒が決めることだから、本人にはわからない場合も多い。

NYの友人達に紹介する時、わざわざ会いにきてくれたという率直な嬉しさから、ついつい、「昔の教え子」という言葉が出てきてしまう。

「こう紹介されて嫌な想いしてないだろうか」そんな不安がないとは言えない。

それにしても、昔の生徒に会えるのはありがたいことだ。やりかけで気になっていた仕事に戻れる感じだ。

もちろん、それは覚悟のいることでもある。

生徒の前に立つということについては、『どれだけ真っ直ぐでいられるか 〜繋いでいくこと2〜』でも書いたように、自分の生き様が問われるものだ。昔の生徒に会う度に、当時からの自分の生き方と、今の自分を見つめ直す貴重な機会となる。

たいていは、胸を張って昔の生徒に「会いたい」と思えるかどうかがバロメーターなのではないかと思う。それは生徒にとっても同じなのかもしれない。

ニューヨーカーが知る地元の良さを案内し、夜、行きつけのビールバーで酒を飲んだ。何でも来いという気持ちでさんざん昔のことを訊いた。聞きながら、「サイテーだな」と反省することしきり。

そんな中、こんなことを言われた。

「失礼かもしれないですけど、先生の気合いだけは伝わってきてました。」

ナイーブな昔の自分だったら、「このヤロー、気合いだけかっ!!」と言っていたところだろうが、今の自分にとっては、妙に嬉しい一言だった。

教員3年目だった自分。下手クソなりに、こちらの本気だけは伝わった、と救われた気がした。

きっと小関先生が聞いたら、「オッケイ!!」と言って下さることだろう。

  

夜に二人で出かける前に、彼を家族に会わせたいと思い、夕食は自分でつくることにした。その間、彼に子どもの世話を任せた。

キッチンで野菜を切っていると、背中越しに、5歳と3歳のうちの娘達が、キャッキャキャッキャと楽しそうに彼と戯れる声が聞こえてきた。


胸が膨らむ想いだった。



2013年7月22日月曜日

Something Beautiful 9:「俺らはイスラム教徒だから」


マンハッタンにあるコロンビア大学から公園を隔てたハーレムに引っ越してきて、はや4年が経つ。僕はこのコミュニティーが大好きだ。

何よりも、人がいい。

主にアフリカ系アメリカ人主体のコミュニティーだが、セネガルを初めとした西アフリカからの移民も多く、日曜日になるとキラキラと色鮮やかなアフリカの民族衣装に身を包んだ人々が通りを賑わす。それに比べ、アジア人はまだほとんどいない。

僕は、「行きつけの店」を持つのが好きだ。ここら辺でもたくさんある。

ただ、飲食店とは限らない。

南米系のおばさんが営むクリーニング店、Fredrick Douglasと114丁目にあるアフリカ系移民のたまり場のセネガルの食堂、Manhattan116丁目のデリ(日本でいうコンビニ)、ドイツ人とセネガル人が共同経営するビールの店Bier InternationalFredrick Douglass113丁目)、他にも何件かある。

置いている品物も勿論大事だが、たいていは、人の温かさで選ぶ。

お金を払う時や、料理を待つ時の、ちょっとした会話が嬉しい。コミュニティーの良さを感じるひと時だ。

こんな人間関係が、窮地を救ってくれる時もある。

以前、昼食を買いにセネガルの食堂に寄った時にクレジットカードが使えなかったことがある。ランニングの帰りだったために現金も無く、焦った。もう料理は包んでもらっていたし、困ってしまった。

セネガルおばさんの対応はシンプルだった。

「代金は今度でいいわ。」

そんなことが、他の店でも何回かあった。落とした財布がちゃんと自分の手元に戻ってくることで知られる日本でも、こんなことは珍しいんじゃないだろうか。ニューヨークのような世界有数の大都市にして、こんなにも情緒豊かなハーレムは、とてもスペシャルだ。

つい先ほどもこんなことがあった。

昨年に続き、今年も7月中はボストンで勉強する妻の所に、子ども達を連れて行った。高速バスでボストンからNYに着き、すぐタクシーを拾った。

いざカードで支払いをしようとしたら、またしても何らかの理由でカードが使えなかった。運転手さんに頼んで、116丁目のデリまで行ってもらい、ATMで現金をおろすことにした。

カードが使えないのも当然だった。残額が足りなかったのだ。

カードも使えなければ現金も手元になく、タクシーの運転手さんは子ども達と外で待っているという信じられない状態。残された道は一つしかないように思えた。

一か八か、顔見知りのデリのおじさんに、事情を説明してみた。

これこれこういうことで、申し訳ないがお金を貸してくれないだろうか。

イエメン出身のそのおじさんは躊躇せずにこう言った。

“No problem. How much?”

こうして$40彼に借り、無事タクシーの運転手さんに払うことができたのだ。

客が逆に店から金を借りるなんてこと、前代未聞だ。借りておきながら、自分自身、びっくりした。

子ども達をおいて、すぐさま家にあった現金を持っておじさんの所に引き返した。

ついでにビールも買い、「ありがとう」と言って$10手渡そうとした。でもおじさんは頑として受け取らなかった。

そのおじさんの言葉が印象的だった。


“We are Muslims.”
「俺らはイスラム教徒だから。」


アラーの神に感謝したい。



2013年4月24日水曜日

We Are the “Liberty Plaza”

* This is an elaboration of the speech I delivered at Occupy DOE 2.0 in Washington DC, 
April 5, 2013. 




We Are the “Liberty Plaza”

It’s so good to be here with all of you.
Earlier today, Sam Anderson talked about power, Kevin Kumashiro talked about movement, and Karen Lewis talked about action. Now, I would like to talk about public space, which, I believe, is a precondition of all of these.

Given that this event is called “Occupy DOE,” it may make sense to talk about the Occupy movement first.

How many of you have been to so-called “Liberty Plaza” during the Occupy Wall Street? How many of you have seen Zuccotti Park after the movement?

Of course, Liberty Plaza and Zuccotti Park signify the same geographical space, but I ask this question because Zuccotti Park and Liberty Plaza—that is, Zuccotti Park during the Occupy—are two fundamentally different spaces. If you go there now, you would not believe that the space used to be the home of the Occupy movement, with hundreds of people and tents, library, kitchen, and various centers providing unique workshops. It was so lively with all the engaging conversations, music, and activities. Liberty Plaza was huge and I even remember feeling lost at one point. On the other hand, what strikes me about Zuccotti Park today is how small it looks. It looks stunningly empty, cold, and lifeless. The holiday season Christmas lights and ornaments put up by the City seemed nothing more than a disgrace.

Looking back, there was something so symbolic about how Occupiers renamed Zuccotti Park “Liberty Plaza.” What it signified was that the name Zuccotti Park became no longer sufficient to represent their lived space, and that the space they created had become fundamentally different from what was previously known as Zuccotti Park.

Now, I have a great mentor named Maxine Greene. She is a philosopher of education and imagination and continues to teach today at the age of 95. I work closely with her as her teaching assistant, and she is one of the major reasons that I do what I do today.

In 1988, Maxine wrote a book called The Dialectic of Freedom.[1] Just as Kevin Kumashiro urged us this morning to question the “common sense” to which corporate ‘deformers’ are appealing in order to sell their policies, Maxine starts the book by disrupting two fundamental assumptions of U.S. society. First is freedom. She points out the tragedy of how Americans think they are born free. The false assumption of freedom—that it is something endowed by the government at birth—anesthetizes Americans, depriving them of direction and agency. Second, she conceptualizes public space as a pre-condition of freedom and troubles the widespread assumption that public spaces already exist in parks and squares. Do they? What is so public about the empty Zuccotti Park today?

Maxine believes that authentic public space is not a physical space but something that emerges among individuals when they come together in plurality with a sense of incompleteness and possibility. First of all, an authentic public place would not be possible in a totalitarian community where people are denied their individualities and forced to think in the same way. Look at us. Today, we have gathered here from various places: New York, Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, Florida, Illinois, Michigan, California, Oregon, Denver, not to mention Japan where I come from. We have different backgrounds, experiences, voices, and perhaps we may disagree even on some of the educational issues. Yet, improvisational, collaborative art forms like jazz helps us understand that our individualities are in fact the very ingredients of beauty and possibility. Just like jazz musicians who come together with different instruments and musicalities, we will make music together, listening carefully to each other, attuning to the rhythm and sound played by others, adding each of our unique note to the music, sometimes provoking, pushing back, redirecting, imagining and resonating. This is an open-ended undertaking that requires participants’ willingness to take risks, but this unpredictability at once becomes the music of possibility that takes musicians to places where they cannot go alone or ever return. In this sense, an authentic public space is like jazz that emerges like chemical reactions among diverse musicians.

However, a coming together of diverse individuals alone does not lead to the creation of a public space. There needs to be a strong enough force that holds them together amidst the differences and dissonances, so that individuals would patiently listen to each other in an effort to create harmonies. This force often takes the form of shared struggle. A legendary jazz musician Wynton Marsalis has once said that what draws many Black musicians into playing jazz is their exclusion from participating in the American society and their longing for a civic participation.[2]

The “sense of incompleteness” manifests itself in the form of resistance when it is shared among individuals who come together. One of the books Maxine often refers to is a novel by Albert Camus (1947) called The Plague. The plague suddenly breaks out in a society much like ours, where people are preoccupied with earning money and entertaining private hobbies. To prevent the plague from spreading, the entire town of Oran becomes segregated from the external world. With no trains coming in or going out, no guarantee that the town gates will ever be reopened, the people of Oran gradually find escape in pleasures and extravagance. Cafes and restaurants are quickly filled and the streets become crowded with drunk men and women. Regardless of these gatherings of people, the first time a public space emerges in the novel is when a group of individuals—a doctor, clerk, tourist, journalist, and others—come together to create a “sanitary squad.” Not knowing what they can do or how effective they can be, they come together because of a shared urge to fight the plague.

A geographer Don Mitchell calls our attention to the notion of “public” and says, “it is by struggling over and within space that the natures of ‘the public’ and of democracy are defined.[3] Today, we have gathered here with a sense of incompleteness and the urge to fight the plague. Yet, it is this very sense of incompleteness that unites us and at once embodies our possibilities. Paulo Freire (1970) reminds us, “Hopelessness is but hope that has lost its bearing.”[4] Maxine, too, urges us to be patient and see the dark always in a dialectical relationship to the light. She teaches us that it is only when we perceive hopelessness and hope as separate entities that they become mutually exclusive. Once we recognize the oneness of the two and their interdependent relationship, then we know that they secure two ends of one spectrum, constantly reinforcing the possibility of each other. Hopelessness is not a void, but darkness that awaits the light of hope that is yet to come.

Another lesson we can take away from the Occupy movement is that a public space is never permanent. It’s fluid, dynamic, alive, and therefore evanescent. Unfortunately, the Liberty Plaza has been reclaimed by Zuccotti Park once again. Yet, this should not discourage us, for it only calls for our resilient effort to create and recreate it. 

Chris Hedges, a journalist I admire has said, “It’s better to think of Occupy not as a movement but as a tactic.” The movement may have died but the spirit of civil disobedience and the seeds of public space live on as we can see in the Chicago Teachers Union strike, MAP boycott by Garfield High School teachers in Seattle, and more parents opting their children out of high stakes testing in states such as New York, Florida, and Pennsylvania. We should also acknowledge that the seeds of public space live in each of us who have come together today. It’s not that we came together in a pre-existing public space. We came here to the footsteps of the U.S. Department of Education and together created a public space. Next time, we will perhaps reconvene elsewhere to create another one. I’m reminded of a beautiful sign that appeared in Zuccotti Park immediately after the eviction of occupiers. On a cardboard it said, “You cannot evict an idea whose time has come.”

Today, we have proven it. “Liberty Plaza” is here, everyone. It’s us. We are the public space.

Now, there is one keyword missing not only from the corporate deforms but all the resistance against it. That is “imagination.” In 1995, Maxine Greene wrote a book titled Releasing the Imagination.[5] In it, she writes, “In many respects, teaching and learning are matters of breaking through barriers—of expectation, of boredom, of predefinition” (p. 14). Later she writes,

To tap into imagination is to become able to break with what is supposedly fixed and finished, objectively and independently real. It is to see beyond what the imaginer has called normal or ‘common-sensible’ and to carve out new orders in experience. Doing so, a person may become freed to glimpse what might be, to form notions of what should be and what is not yet” (p. 19).

Maxine also conceptualizes imagination on a collective level and calls it “social imagination.” As I understand it, it signifies a cyclical process of social dialogue, reflection, and experiment for the purposes of intervening in the given reality as if it could be otherwise.

One of the experiments some of us are undertaking is a conference titled “Reclaiming the Conversation on Education” scheduled on May 4 in NYC.
One thing I’m learning from my involvement in organizing this conference is the power of idea-based initiatives. Rather than being organized by one organization, its organizers participate from various organizations without their organizational badges: Peter Taubman from Brooklyn College, Barbara Madeloni from Can’t Be Neutral, Janine Sopp from Change the Stakes, Lisa Edstrom from Parent Voices New York, Ruth P. Silverberg and myself from Edu4… That is because we started with an idea of having a conference that brings together various education stakeholders and activists. It’s just a bunch of like-minded individuals coming together to do something. In a large sense, this Occupy DOE is the same thing. We have come together not because it is organized by United Opt Out but because we resonated with its vision to “occupy the U.S. Department of Education.” The power of such an idea-based initiative is that it reduces organizational egos/frictions that so often prevent us from collaborating with each other.

I am reminded of how Wynton Marsalis said we will never see child prodigies in jazz: “You will not see that because this music deals with the world a certain way and with humanity, and it requires a certain type of adult understanding of the complexities of things that are going on. So you talk about Duke Ellington, you’re talking about your genius, the most sophisticated, most adult.”[6] To participate in the creation of public spaces perhaps requires similar characteristics of maturity such as patience, empathy, capacity to listen, understanding, appreciation, courage to speak up, willingness to take risks, humility, hope, resilience, and love. Maxine, quoting Hannah Arendt, puts it this way: “The aim is to find (or create) an authentic public space, that is, one in which diverse human beings can appear before one another as…‘the best they know how to be.’”[7]

While striving for human decency, we will move from one place to another, uniting diverse individuals under a vision, creating public spaces for social imagination, and connecting those spaces. That is how we make a movement. 

I want to end this speech with something Maxine wrote in 1988, as I believe its message might resonate with us even stronger today:

“We may have reached a moment in our history when teaching and learning, if they are to happen meaningfully, must happen on the verge. Confronting a void, confronting nothingness, we may be able to empower the young to create and re-create a common world—and, in cherishing it, in renewing, discover what it signifies to be free.”[8]





[1] Greene, M. (1988) The dialectic of freedom. New York: Teachers College
[2]  West, C. (1997) Restoring hope: conversations on the future of Black America. Boston: Beacon.
[3] Mitchell, D. (March, 1995) The end of public space? People's park, definitions of the public, and democracy. Annals of the Association of American Geographers, Vol. 85, No. 1., pp. 108-133.
[4] Freire, P. (1994) Pedagogy of hope. New York: Continuum. 
[5] Greene, M. (1995) Releasing the imagination: essays on education, the arts, and social change. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass.
[6] West, C. (1997) p. 135
[7] Greene, M. (1988) p. xi.
[8] Greene, M. (1988) p. 23


Here is the actual speech (https://vimeo.com/63814999)

Daiyu Suzuki at Occupy the Dept of Ed from Schoolhouse Live on Vimeo.

2013年3月2日土曜日

なぜニューヨークで、なぜ今、東北を語るのか?

震災2周年を今年もニューヨークで迎える。

これまでも、ここで見つけた仲間達と様々な復興支援の取り組みをしてきたが、今回行うのは、今までやってきた中でも一番やりがいを感じている。自分の色を出せているからだと思う。

日本人として、教育を志す者として、アクティビストとして、そしてこっちで見つけた恩師、Maxine Greeneの自由とイマジネーションの哲学の影響を受けた者として挑んだビジョンが、数多くの仲間達のビジョンやエネルギーと融合し、3月10日、一つの形になる。

勉強をそっちのけにしてやっている部分も否めない。自問自答の連続だ。

でも、自分は要領が悪いから、「割り切る」ということができない。

今、その瞬間に自分に取って大事なこと、それしか考えていない。今までそうやって何とか生きてきたし、そんな瞬間瞬間の蓄積が今の自分をつくっている。

何とかなるだろう。そんな境地だ。



そんな今回のイベント、ちょっとここで宣伝しておこう。



なぜニューヨークで、

なぜ今、東北を語るのか?


今回の取り組みの根底にあるのは、そんな哲学的な問いであり、Chim↑Pomを始め、日本とアメリカから様々なアーティストや建築家、医者、その他アクティビスト達を招き、この問いと正面から向き合う。





今回の一つのポイントはアートだ。

イベントを訪れる多くの人々が、地理的な枠を越えた、もっと深い、人間的なレベルのダイアローグに参加できるようにとの願いを込めて、アートに力を入れたイベントとなっている。

だから、「東北のことはあまり知らないけれど」、という日本人以外のアーティストやその他ハートのある人達に多く来てもらいたいと思っている。

集まった人々が、一人一人の人間として 3.11 を語れたらと思う。


3月10日(日)、コロンビア大学
詳細はこちら→ http://nyjapan311.org/
予約はこちらから。 



 
 
にほんブログ村 哲学・思想ブログ 人間・いのちへ
にほんブログ村