I Am A Hopemonger. Â Are You?Â
Our students arrive at school complete and perfectly human. That is to say, they arrive as people in flux. They are on a journey. Our classroom is a stop along the way. It is a privilege to be with them for the time we have been given together and we must make the most of this opportunity.
Some people will have arrived from a pleasant place. Their journey has left them shining. I love these students. Others will have arrived from some place less pleasant. Their journeyâs been more challenging. Theyâd like to shine but are not sure how. Â I love these students, too. A few will have arrived from a place that wasnât pleasant at all. Their journey has left them tired and discouraged. They, too, would like to shine, but have forgotten how. I love them, as well. Then, there are always people whoâve arrived from an awful place. Their journeyâs been so hard theyâve come to believe they canât shine. I love these students most of all.
Itâs my job to make everyone shine and Iâll do whateverâs necessary to make that happen. I donât need to worry about those people whoâve arrived from pleasant places. Itâs the ones whoâve come from awful places who are harder to love as they display the destructive strategies theyâve used to get this far. It is how they have survived and they do it perfectly. They are not failures.
My calling is to learn where they came come, what it is they are good at, and who they believe themselves to be. I may have to spend some time on my knees with them. I may even need to hang out with them in the smoking areas, squatting down beside them, but I will do it. I will get them to understand that they have arrived in a good place. I will pace them, build rapport with them, and as I get them to trust me enough, I will model new strategies for them — strategies they can use to replace the ones that are no longer necessary because they have arrived in a good place. None of this is easy, but it is the real work.
The student I love most right now is into dangerous sports, dresses in a style that says Iâm scary, and works hard at being an unlovable outsider. Almost all of his teachers have written him off as someone with a bad attitude. They donât care that he is one of the top BMX riders in Asia. I doubt they know how loyal he is to his crew or about his troubled relationship with his father. I know and I care.
It took a year to find that out, squatting down beside him until I could get him to stand up beside me.
Last semester he was told that because of his bad attitude he wouldnât be able to join his classmates on a study abroad trip. His first reaction was to drop out of school. I was devastated, but I understood his reasons as he explained them to me. The other day I was so happy to see him on campus. Heâs back and when I asked him why, he shrugged and said as he touched my shoulder, âIâve got friends here. Anyway, howâs your heart? â Better than ever, I told him.
In his essay Confessions of a Hopemonger, Herbert Kohl writes that âwithin everyone, no matter how damaged, hostile, or withdrawn, there is some unique constellation of abilities, sensitivities, and aspirations that can be discovered, uncovered, or rescued. The concept of failure has to be eliminated from the mind of the teacherâ. I believe this to be absolutely true.  At the end of the same essay, Kohl confesses: âI am a hopemonger, and I have also been accused of caring too much about students who other teachers have written off. â
I confess. I am a hopemonger, too. Are you?