SIX MONTHS AGO…
The private school that has been gracious enough to employ my (questionable) services as a Social Studies teacher has never restricted itself to what can be accomplished in the classroom alone. Although I would hesitate to call it a truly elite establishment, we’re aware that parents are shelling out a more-than-modest sum to ensure their little snowflakes get the best overall educational experience — and that includes a few trips beyond the shady suburbs of Sacramento as part of our “Learning Without Walls” curriculum. Our year-long LWW project for the 2011-2012 year was to conceptualize, design and produce a product in keeping with the National Design Museum’s “Design For The Other 90%”. From their website:
“Of the world’s total population of 6.5 billion, 5.8 billion people, or 90%, have little or no access to most of the products and services many of us take for granted; in fact, nearly half do not have regular access to food, clean water, or shelter. Design for the Other 90% explores a growing movement among designers to design low-cost solutions for this “other 90%.” Through partnerships both local and global, individuals and organizations are finding unique ways to address the basic challenges of survival and progress faced by the world’s poor and marginalized.
Designers, engineers, students and professors, architects, and social entrepreneurs from all over the globe are devising cost-effective ways to increase access to food and water, energy, education, healthcare, revenue-generating activities, and affordable transportation for those who most need them. And an increasing number of initiatives are providing solutions for underserved populations in developed countries such as the United States.”
A traveling exhibition of the National Design Museum’s work in this area was on display at the United Nations. What better way to inspire a group of 8th grade social entrepreneurs than a flying visit to New York City to view the exhibits — and squeeze in a visit to Our Nation’s Capital while we’re at it.
A pensive Cade at the Sacramento airport.
Sunday, October 23, 2011. Sacramento, CA. 6:55 am. In the pre-dawn darkness, nineteen eighth-graders gathered at Sacramento International Airport for an 8:20 am flight to Dallas, and the subsquent connecting flight to Washington, D.C. The eighth-graders in question were a great group of kids, undoubtedly one of the best groups I had ever worked with, but being the age they were, and belonging to the (ahem) social class that most of them did, there was a decided element of sheltered-ness to them. Even if they had made trips around the country and perhaps abroad, those trips were a round of plush rental cars, unlimited luggage, and 100% parental supervision and control at all times. This promised to be a little different for them. So there were nineteen students (including my son Cade, who will be featured in many of the pics, as I photographed in Parent Mode, not as much in Teacher Mode), and three faculty chaperones (myself, our esteemed Language Arts teacher MDG, and Our Principal). Each person was restricted to two small items of luggage (they had to fit on the train from D.C. to N.Y.C.). Student Hillary immediately tested the limits of this by showing up with a suitcase approximately the size of a Kenmore refrigerator.
The first sign of overall group cluelessness was when at least a half-dozen of them plopped down their baggage as soon as it came out of the security scanner, and proceeded to wander toward the gate, as if they expected a phalanx of liveried porters to appear and bear it for them. We had to round them up and explain to them that they were, indeed, expected to actually carry their carry-ons from start to finish. (And at some point between checking in her behemoth suitcase and arriving at the gate, Hillary managed to lose her boarding pass.)
“Now boarding all first-class passengers for non-stop service to Dallas/Fort Worth,” came the announcement. Tucker immediately gathered up his things and headed for the jetway.
Some of our girls preparing for departure
When halted in his purposeful stride by me, a look of genuine bewilderment crossed his freckled face. “We’re first-class, right? Aren’t we supposed to be first-class?” When assured we were flying coach with the rest of the serfs, he settled back in to ponder his new lot in life, which was rammed home to all of us as we squeezed into our seats on board. It’s been a while since I’ve flown, but I have to wonder if there’s been an on-going secret project of gradually miniaturizing commercial airlines. I’m no bigger than average, yet it felt like my knees were around my ears and my shins were driven into the upright folding tray in front of me.
Dallas/Fort Worth International Aiport, TX. 2:05 pm. Massaging circulation back into my lower limbs, I immediately switched into Professional Chaperone Mode upon arrival, counting and re-counting our awkward, gangly pubescent ducklings and chanting the mantra that would become ingrained in my skull over the next five days: “Nineteen…nineteen…nineteen…” D/FW is the eighth-busiest airport in the world, and to facilitate the movement of huge hordes of humanity, they have installed a people-mover monorail system called Skylink. As our Skylink glided to a halt, I stepped off in advance of the kids and began the count. And then failed to step back on after the kids had departed. The doors swooshed closed and the Skylink hummed on to the next gate.
With my suitcase on it. Continue reading
Holy Bee of Ephesus 