Reflections upon My Return

Looking at all of our experiences, I have to say a special thank you to Anna and Lukazs for showing us the beauty of Krakow and the mountains of Zakopane.  These pictures are some of my favorites from this trip, Denise and I wished on the bell in Wawel Cathedral, dinner with the director of the European College, underground in the salt mine with the Pre-IB class, trying to keep our balance in an upside-down house, and a hike in Zakopane to a frozen waterfall.  I also include here some thoughts about why we are working to connect our students, communities, and countries.

If universities are becoming international, and according to BBC News education correspondent Sean Coughlan, they are, then teachers must prepare students for university level inquiry on the international plane; in his article, “Graduates—the New Measure of Power,“ Coughlan writes that, “[John] Sexton, [president of New York University,] sets out a different kind of map of the world, in which universities, with bases in several cities, become the hubs for the economies of the future, ‘magnetizing talent’ and providing ideas and energy to drive economic innovation.”  If jobs will emerge from modern needs like clean energy and clean water, then problem solving will require collaborative efforts that draw from scientific knowledge, creativity, communication, legal expertise, ethics, and interpersonal skills, among others.  If we wish to head off future war and genocide akin to what the world witnessed during the Holocaust or even as recently as the Darfur and Rwanda genocides we need to invest in creating “preemptive trust.”  We will never know how many tragedies were averted because good people were in the right places, acting with integrity.  The great people who will shape tomorrow are sitting in our classrooms right now.  We need to empower them.   

   

            Students already have energy within, and looking at these pictures teachers do too.  We are creating sister classes in Krakow, Boston, and Goldsboro, North Carolina.   We teachers have planned together, taught together, edited a book together, and reflected together.  We plan to stay connected through skype, class projects, grant writing programs, and the shared passion to provide real learning experiences for our students.  We know how much energy was created when we put American teachers with Polish teachers and students.  Our next goal is even more exciting—to place international students together with purpose.  Our students are our target audience, not the target.  The target is connectivity and the learning that comes from it.   From these experiences which will inform their perspectives, enhance their cultural awareness, hone their communication and interpersonal skills, test their beliefs, and feed their creativity and intellectual curiosity, we look forward to seeing how students go out into the world and create momentum of their own.

 As we have coursed our way through these two weeks, Denise and I have marveled at our host's stamina, integrity, and dedication.  Anna not only teaches in school, but she also gives private English lessons.  We have been fortunate to meet Gabby, Tomasz, and Patryk at Anna's house last Sunday, and each one invited us back to his or her home.  Anna's students love her visits, and welcomed us into their rooms where we asked each other questions and played games.  Gabby has a natural ear for the English language, and we taught her the word "gorgeous" because she is.  Patryk likes Star Wars, Harry Potter, martial arts, and his pet hamster, Fifi. Tomasz told us our fortunes, played the piano for us, and showed himself to be a force on the chessboard.
    

The second junior high school has been the class who has spent the most time with us, presenting poems, telling us how they spend their free time, teaching us Polish, and traveling with us to see the Wieliczka Salt Mine.  On this day, they presented Polish traditions and aspects of Polish life to us.  We learned how to predict one's future spouse, animals of the region, holidays, literature, and history.  Piotrek, in describing Polish history said that, "The Russians gave us our freedom, only to take it back," as he was handing out coupons from the Soviet era, bullets from WWII, cards that show party membership (a necessity if a person wanted to swim),  money that predated WWI, and family photos.  History became personal and familial with these presentations.  Several students in this class have a natural sense of humor.   Because of them I know how to say prosze (please), przepraszam (I'm sorry),  Mam na imie Allyson (My name is Allyson), siemka (yo, hey), Jak masz na imie?  (What is your name?), Golzie mieszkasz? (Where do you live?), and Mieszkam w Poinocnej Karolina (I live in North Carolina). 

To the second junior high school, thank you teaching us so well.   Many memories I have of Poland and Krakow will be of you.  I do have a few words that describe each one of you.  Can you guess which ones you are?  Gentle spirit; humble genius; witty and gregarious leader; cynical, but humerous  intellectual; confident and bright networker; playful (and hungry) student; ethical and trusted friend; meticulous fashionista; and genuine and conscientious thespian (he smiles as much or more than I do).  You are welcome in America, and especially in North Carolina.

Nazi Concentration Camps in Poland

Dear Ones,

Please forgive me for asking you to look directly at the horror of Auschwitz and Birkenau.  I have needed the distance of time and place before I could write properly to you about them, but last night my dreams prompted me not to forget and pass on what we witnessed there.  This may come out as fractured memories because sometimes I had to withdraw into myself and not think, but only listen, not process, but only record, so that the next part of the camp would not be lost to my memory.

                We walked on the paths of Auschwitz and Birkenau, on the places where the earth is consecrated by the sacrifice and suffering of the people who lived, died, and survived there.  All elements of the camps were meant to exterminate the prisoners.  Those who were selected for the camp to be long-term prisoners often lasted only a few months, perhaps a few weeks, sometimes even days or hours.  Later, when my friend Denise and I were discussing our experience, she said that as she looked at the rows of women, heads shaven so hurriedly and harshly that parts of their scalps were patchy and bare, she was caught by the date a group of women arrived, “It was my birthday.”  Details like these connect you to the faces on the walls in ways that gripped our hearts.

                The story was told in so many human ways, in ways that showed a landscape portrait of the volumes of people, mostly Jewish, but also Russian, Gypsy, and those suspected as being a part of the  Polish resistance.  In one building we were invited to go in and look at artistic renderings of the camp from prisoners who survived or escaped.  As we looked at Nazi SS soldiers sadistically enjoying beating prisoners as they marched, we could see a cornered collection of young Jewish men gathered toward each other with bowed heads, each with one hand touching the other.  From the center a young, strong, masculine voice called in English, “We are privileged.  We are lucky.  Never has a generation been as lucky as we are.”  His voice resonated through us, as we imagined what this story might mean to someone who might find a picture of a relative on the wall.

                Upstairs we could no longer hear voices.  I was not prepared for the display, a glassed room the size of a swimming pool full of human hair.  Looking at my feet, I heard our guide say that the hair was used to make fabrics for officers’collars and to make mattresses.  I glanced up to see her point to a display where the use of human hair in the mattress was unmistakable.  Singing in Hebrew echoed up the staircase, passing through us as we descended.   Powerful and beautiful, even now I can hear their collective lament. 

                Other images linger—piles of rooms of shoes, twice in size of the previous building’s display, a mass of mostly neutral colors with specks of blue and red; then along the shelf, close, as we walked by, individual ones—sandals, business shoes, practical shoes, children’s shoes.  And bunker-like shelters where people were invited to take a shower, where an adjoining area housed the ovens that gave this period its name, holocaust.  Denise’s pictures are an attempt to catch some bit of color, some hint of hope against the stark gray gloom.

                At Birkenau, the extreme living conditions of the prisoners became even clearer.  Most of us have seen the film Schindler’s List, The Boy in the Striped Pajamas, Counterfeiters, or other films that depict this time.  When the wind kicks up it is hard not to imagine people herded from the trains, stripped of their clothes, before each other, before the guards.  Later living in torn clothes in shelters, their bodies consume themselves.   The first camp building in Birkenau was originally a barn built for fifty horses.  There are gaps at the top and bottom of every wall.  In the winter Nazi guards opened the building up; in summer they kept it closed.  All elements of the camp were designed to lead to death.  This structure was so effective in this way that many more were built on exactly the same model, and at times 1,000 prisoners were housed inside.  The Russian army destroyed the many ovens in Birkenau, but everywhere we could see piles of bricks and row after row of chimneys where they once stood.

                Others have said this better, but the question remains.  How can human beings do such things to one another? 

                Search for wisdom rather than just knowledge.  Never before have so many died so swiftly and with such efficiency.  Think of yourselves as electric circuits.  An open one cannot conduct electricity; a closed one passes it along.  Know when you must pass along what is good—seeing the dignity of each human person, and to do good to him or her; and know when you must be the open circuit—the one who blocks, ensuring that what is dehumanizing, immoral, or evil is not passed along.  Be an Oskar Schindler or a Paul Rusesabagina from Rwanda.  They didn’t know what they were going to do before they did it.  But when the right time came, they used all of their intelligence, determination, integrity, and resources to do what was right.  Don’t you think what they did made a difference to the people they saved?

Schools and City

     I hope you are all well and taking care of each other.  I finally have shaken out the shivers of the last few days, although yesterday was the coldest for us.  We conducted a street survey with Pre-IB students at the European College.  One day was about 15 degrees (Fahrenheit), but we bundle up. Students broke into groups of four and asked pedestrians what their opinions were on the American influence in Polish culture.  The five groups targeted five different areas, geography and language, stereotypes, music, food, and clothing.  I have heard some of what they found, but on Monday, they will put all of the parts together and give us the total picture using statistics.  At the end of the two hours outside we hit McDonald's because it was the only place big enough to seat everyone.  I had the McCroissant.
     So far we have seen two schools, both IB certified.  One school is primarily attended by Polish people whose parents want to send them to the best colleges.  Some of the students were a bit shy to speak in front of us with the exception of the class of fourteen year olds.  They were fantastic as they told us which foods to to try, where to go, what they do in their free time (chill, play computer games, talk on the phone),  Everyone had a cell phone.  The funniest thing they told us were some of the unique Polish holidays Smingus Dyngus and Fat Thursday.  Smingus Dyngus can last for several days, or even a week.  After Easter, young people hide all around the city with buckets of water.  One day the young men douse girls, other days women douse men.  Sometimes people get hit with water on their way back from church.  It is tied to the themes of baptism, but as one student described it, his eyes shinning, "It is the craziest, funniest holiday ever."  (And then I could imagine him hiding in the bushes somewhere waiting for a pretty, dressed up girl to walk by.) Fat Tuesday is "great" because everyone tries to eat everything they can, especially doughnuts.  They told us these are not like the doughnuts in the states, they don't have holes and are full of cream and rose jelly.  The purpose is to have one last enjoyment before Lent starts.
     Ask yourself these questions:  Would you like to be in a class of nine people?  Would you like to be in  the same classroom all day?  Classes here are often smaller in these private schools, but classrooms are as well.  In one school, the students stay in the same place and the teachers move.  It is customary for teachers to read grades out loud, and students are scored on a 1-6 scale, 6 being the best of course.  In the IB program, students must take their classes in English up to 70-75%.  How would you feel about taking Physics in Spanish?   Much is similar, like when students move to see a video better, girls will often pile up on one chair sitting on each others' laps.  And sometimes, when students struggle with an assignment, the teacher finds a way for them to finish it.  For, example, Anna is a Geography teacher.  One class is working on service learning projects where they "adopt" a foreigner, helping them adjust to the city.  Several students have had amazing experiences, but four were stuck, so we became their project.  They met us afterschool, having researched several sites and showed us around Krakow, each taking a different location.  I miss you!

Love,
Mrs. Daly

February 13, 2010 "A Guest in the House is God in the House"

Dear Ones,
    I wish that you could have been with me the first night I was in Poland.  Anna brought her twin brother, his girlfriend, and her sister to meet me and bring us all to hear a fellow teacher play with his band.  As we walked toward the public square, we passed part of the original fortifications of the city.  We passed the old entrances, including a turret surrounded by a drained moat, and walked under the wall into cobblestone streets.  The square is the largest still intact in Europe, and it was lit to accentuate each architecutral feature, from the Church of St. Mary on the corner, to the old cloth market. Shops and restaurants radiate outward from its center.  Maybe it was because it was Friday night, but the streets were filled with young people, very stylishly dressed.  To get to where Piotr, Anna's friend was playing, we walked through a door, down a stone corridor, and then descended down to a cozy arched brick restaurant where "The Accoustic Duo" had reserved a table for us with a placecard marked "USA."  They tuned up, and then played a range of songs which included U2, The Beatles, Pink Floyd, John Denver, as well as some Polish tunes.  People sang, and at one point a few women got up and danced.  It was very relaxed and lovely, warm and cozy.  (With the exception of the British man who was making county music "yehaws" in between his comments to us all that it was time to go home.  Then he would sit down again..
    This morning Anna brought Denise and I to mass (church service) at the Sanctuary of Our Lord's Mercy, which Pope John Paul consecreated.  It is a very modern structure with a tall tower from which we could see the sights of Krakow.  The church is known for hosting a portrait painted by Saint Faustyna, a nun who after having visions of Christ, painted his portrait with one hand over his heart and rays of mercy coming from that spot to fall upon those who gaze upon it.  In the modern sanctuary, there is a blend of natural lines and strong straight ones.  The marble floor picks up the motif of rays as lines of different colored rock eminate from the altar.  Behind the altar are sculptures of trees, blown and weathered, intertwined and bare, bronzed and elegant.  Behind them is the painting by St. Faustyna.  If they are a message to the Polish people and everyone in the sanctuary, it may be this:  I may bend you and shape you, you may be broken, but I will pour infinite love and mercy upon you.
     The Polish have a phrase, "A Guest in the house is God in the house."  Anna planned a party for us to meet some of the students she tutored, their families, and her husband.  Her students practiced their English with us, and we shared with them stories of Massachussetts and North Carolina.  Anna's husband cooked a traditional bread for us, and he even called his mother and grandmother to make sure he was making it the authentic way.  Leon and Jack played their violins for us.  Like Southerners, our new Polish friends made us feel welcome, and Gabby, who is ten, has invited us to her home later this week.
     Tomorrow is our first day in the schools.  I miss you all, and I can't wait to share some of the fabulous realities I have seen.

With Love,
Mrs. Daly

This blog is not an officila U. S. Department of State website.  The views and information presented are the grantee's own and do not represent the Teaching Excellence and Achievement Program, the International Leaders in Education Program, IREX, or the U.S. Department of State.

Preparations for Poland

Welcome to "The Daly Chronicles,"  an effort to connect two countries, three schools, and multiple classrooms to international learning.  I am Allyson Daly, a high school English teacher from Goldsboro, North Carolina.  Denise Ghiloni, a Massachusetts Language Arts teacher, and I are fortunate to have received State Department grants to observe and teach in Krakow, Poland.  Our host, Anna Krzeminska-Kaczynska, has already been awarded a grant to come to America, where she studied teaching at the University of Nebraska at Lincoln for six weeks.  She has graciously and wisely planned our trip, offering her home to welcome us and meet friends, observe and teach at the European College, visit sights in Krakow, and see the mountains at Zakopane.  As one who loves storytelling, this feels like the beginning of a quest; certainly it is the beginning of an adventure.