Letter to Social Justice Class

It’s obvious: the great blessing for teachers is to meet students who give the class their all. One of these is Patti Silverman, who graced our Tuesday-Thursday 11 am Social Justice class in fall 2006. For her insertion, she worked at Karen House on Fridays. At the end of the semester, I invited students to share a message with their classmates. Here’s what Patti had to say…

Tomorrow is the last day of Social Justice class and I am almost at a loss for words. How do I even begin to describe what has transpired within and outside of the four white walls of room 2096. I came in here in August not knowing what to expect, figuring this would be like any other class. A teacher who doesn’t care to learn my name, exams, lectures—how wrong was I. This may sound odd—I even feel weird writing it, but this class(or maybe the people in it) have changed my life. I have been taken out of my comfort zone, educated on topics I wasn’t even aware of, and opened up to the possibility of a better future. I honestly feel I am a changed person. This class has brought me to tears, made me laugh, angered me, and disturbed me, but this is the first class where I actually had some sort of feeling. Can I even call it a class—I think it should be called a “life journey.” Never would I have thought I would spend each Friday among the poor working at Karen House. I have always felt a drive to help the poor, but never would I have thought I could actually make some type of difference in their lives. Never would I have thought I would come to a class where people actually talk to one another. I have met some of the most remarkable people in this class, people who actually say “hi” to me as I pass them on campus, people who push me to be a better person.

Thank you Romaytha for spending a Saturday night talking with three questioning Catholics about Islam. Thank you Rachel for revealing so much of your life and letting me feel it was okay to reveal mine. Thank you Jessica for your news events as I entered class. Thank you Chris and Sarah for making me realize how little I actually do in the world. You gave me a call to action and I admire your relentless pursuit of social justice. Thank you Ryan for being the cynical voice, as you were often “sick of discussing feelings.” If I go through this whole class I would have to fill up the rest of this journal. But to those I haven’t named—you all left an imprint in your own way.

Never would I have thought I could come to a class and talk about me—my struggles and failures, and find people who really want to listen. What am I going to do next semester from 11-12:15? Go to a philosophy class or history class? I am sure the professor would not allow us to sit in a circle, ring a bell, and meditate. Wow, how much am I going to miss this class. In a way I am scared to leave that door today—am I going to forget everything? What will I do without reading assignments and agendas? How will I know what is going on in the world and find people willing to discuss issues beyond their new crush or Friday night plans? I know I won’t let go of these lessons because they have become a part of who I am. I now consciously stop myself when my thoughts turn negative and tell myself “just like me she wants to be happy, she doesn’t want to suffer.” I spent Thanksgiving in a new mindset, which my family definitely noticed. Every comment they made, whether relevant or not, was followed by a social justice remark: “I don’t like that company because they fund this social injustice…” “I am thankful for this meal because there are people hungry in Saint Louis, in Burma, in Haiti, in our neighborhood…” Every time I talk to my mom on the phone I usually end up reading her some quote related to our conversation from a book we read. Recently she sat by as I read her an entire chapter from The Book of Mev.

As exams are approaching I find myself stopping and saying, “Breathing in I calm myself, Breathing out I smile.” I have realized among all the evils in life—that these moments—this moment really is wonderful.

So lastly, I want to say thank you—even though that doesn’t even voice my appreciation to Dr. C. Thank you for caring about each of us as individuals, actually learning about what is important in our lives. Thank you for sitting in this circle with us, as one of us, instead of standing in front of a board. Thank you for making us write in this journal and read so many books. Thank you for introducing us to your personal life and your wife—who I would have loved to meet and talk about photography with. Thank you for making us stop—for making us feel like we can make a difference. How can I get so sentimental about Social Justice class? Because it isn’t about a book—it is about our lives, and before now I was blind to most of it. Thank you Dr. C for honestly being the best teacher I have ever had. You were not just a teacher of a college course, you are a teacher of life. I admire you greatly—your strength is empowering.

I hope to walk out of this door today and never again turn my back on the world or the struggles of humanity. I challenge myself to continue my action for change, and I challenge each of you to do the same. Our eyes are now open, let us only being to see.