“Would you be willing to set up a pen pal exchange with my students?”

Okay. That’s not a direct quote. But that’s the basic gist of what was written to me in a Facebook DM from a former student who graduated….12? 15 years ago?

I see the horizon. It’s so close to me right now. I’m four years from retirement. Or four years from hitting the magic 30 years of service which means that I can retire and move into that wonderful state of what the hell do I do now? And I won’t lie. I have been craving retirement these last 18 months as I have gnawed my way through some difficult situations.

But God keeps calling me back to the classroom (this will be another post) and keeps reminding me of His plans. His purpose. And so I keep pushing forward because forward is always the right direction…even though I keep looking over my shoulder and asking myself “What if?”

What if a student who graduated 12…15 years ago reached out via Facebook and told me about how she is now teaching English in Namibia?

What is that former student who is now a teacher invited me to collaborate with her and have our students be pen pals? So her students can practice English?

What if I said yes? Because I can show my students the value of being a global citizen? That the world is not their zip code and that people around the world lead very different lives and yet have very similar values and might even be similar to them?

And so I said yes. DUH! And I met with my principal to make sure that it was okay to say yes. And he said yes because he is amazing. And I told my students and they said they weren’t certain so I said that’s fine. You have to do it anyhow because I’m mean and evil and this is your opportunity to think beyond yourself and do something good for the world and show kindness to others. So take that!

The letters arrived via email on Tuesday. I printed and sorted them Wednesday. Set up a spreadsheet to chart which American student was writing to which Namibian student. If the replies were written.

I expected pushback. Ennui.

I didn’t expect, “Can I pick a dandelion and tape it to my letter?” so the American student could show the Namibian student our spring flowers (note we are scanning the letters and not sending invasive plant species). I didn’t expect, “Can I ask what it’s like to live with a tribe?” because my American students live with their families and don’t have a contextual, personal understanding of tribal life (note, the Namibian students wrote with pride about their tribes, their heritages, and the beautiful languages that they speak).

I didn’t expect “My pen pal is just like me. We both love sharks! We’re the same person.”

Namibia is in the southern hemisphere. As far from our state as you can get. My students will likely never cross the equator to travel to Namibia. And yet, today, for 75 minutes, they were silent as they poured over the letters from their Namibian pen pals and learned about traditional foods, pets (monkeys and donkeys), and family structures. On one side of the desk was the printed Namibian letter. On the other was the student’s paper as they wrote back. Or drew pictures. Or left space for the dandelion that is going to be picked tomorrow and taped to the margin of a piece of three-hole-punch, traditional American loose leaf paper.

The world is a pen stroke away. I walked around my classroom today, watching the 100 minutes dissolve into peaceful silence. We were going to write paragraphs today that was supposed to incorporate hard evidence/data points because my students are struggling with building in evidence to prove their opinions. We were going to start learning about homesteading in preparation for the one-act “Trifles.” We were going to….

What if I just relaxed and let the students write? What if they make a connection to a student in Namibia? What if….

Timshel.