I don't know where to begin, or even what I want to say in this blog today. All I know is that I was deeply moved by something I saw in the news yesterday. It made me stop in my tracks. Open-mouthed and silent. Gave me goosebumps. Caused small tears to leak out of my eyes and my heart to swell. It was this short video. Click the link below this picture.
|Palmerston North Boys' School doing a Farewell "Haka" for a beloved teacher who had died|
I have watched this now 4-5 times. Each time I'm stunned by these young men and their powerful display of emotion, respect, and most of all, love for their teacher. At the beginning, I'm almost always overwhelmed by the sight and sound of these 1700 boys, chanting and stomping in unison, their voices fierce and strong.
I know that the "haka" was originally a Maori war dance, performed to intimidate enemies and inspire the valiant. But it's also performed as an expression of deep respect at events, like Mr. Tamatea's funeral. I think this particular "haka" is a version known as "Ka Mate", which celebrates the triumph of life over death. But I don't want to get all "academic" about this. I want to focus on the boys and what they expressed.
Look into their eyes as they perform. There is a genuine ferocity in many of them, but my heart knows it is fueled by deep sadness. They are roaring in an attempt to hold back the tears. They roar as one, disciplined and proud. They stomp fiercely with all their might - refusing to retreat or bow - yet in the end, step back in quiet acceptance of what they know they cannot change.
Look at the young boys in the front row. Some of them intensely throw their entire selves into the dance - and then anxiously turn and look for their leaders to give them their next cue. Look then at those leaders - the older boys in shirts and ties - who step forward, and deliver the schoolboys' final message of defiance of death. And then comes the final command, "Walk away, away!", followed by 30 seconds of reverent silence. Powerful stuff.
"What the teacher is, is more important than what he teaches." (Karl Menninger)
Mr. Tamatea must've been an incredible man. He must have given a lot to these young men in the 29 years he taught at Palmerston North. To have earned such respect and affection, I know he had to have challenged these boys, as well as shown them compassion. He was probably a "no nonsense, do your homework, tuck in your shirt, sit up straight, I expect your very best, "old school" teacher. He also was probably the last one at school each night... a coach... not afraid to look a boy in the eyes and tell him "I'm proud of you"...or share a booming laugh (probably at himself!) with a class. I'm sure Mr. Tamatea was an exceptional educator and man. The world needs so many more like him.
And then today I read an article that sobered me in a different way. The article came across on my Facebook page. It was titled "Why Is It That America Hates Teachers So Much?". I won't summarize it. You can read it, if you want, through the link below.
"Why Is It That America Hates Teachers So Much?"
After reading this article, I wondered for a moment: Why would anyone want to be a teacher anymore? (especially in the United States - especially in Oregon). Why would anyone want to take up, or continue, a career that seems so universally demonized and denigrated now?
And then I think of the boys of Palmerston North and the impact Mr. Dawson Tahana Tamatea clearly made on them. And I know that that is the single reason that teaching is still the noblest profession, and draws some of the most courageous and dedicated people to it that I've ever known.
There is nothing nobler - nor as sacred - as the chance to influence young people and to teach them what is really valuable in Life. I could list probably dozens of these "Pearls" that teachers give to their students, but I'll let you reflect on that. I'm positive you will be able to remember at least one teacher in your life who touched you some way positively - who taught you something you've never forgotten - and who helped you become, someway, somehow, the person you are today. And you should thank them.
So "Thank You" Sister Lucy, Lou McCorkle, Bill Chapman, Tom Rohlffs, Frank Imbrie, Mary Carol Day, Don DeClerck, Barry Adams, Heinz Teubner, Roberta Hutton, Elden Kellar, Guy Finley and many more for all you did for me.
Dan and Heather Woodward, Adam Drew, Kelly Burton, Emily Marshall (soon to be Brink!), Brenda Dufour, Kevin Dixon, Susan Kahoun Holt, Wendy Barrie, Mary Wieczorek, Pam McNulty, Andy Frye, Dan Keck, Amy Westerfield, Marilyn Ramone, Doug Potter, Steve Johansen, Ken Yarnell, Jim Lekas, Vic Wright, and so many, many, many more that I've had the chance to work with. You are "Dawson Tamateas" in your own right. I hope you know that.
"In teaching you cannot see the fruit of a day's work. It is invisible and remains so, maybe for 20 years." (Jacques Barzun)
Very true. But what grows from a good teacher's work has deep roots, and it will last a lifetime. Just ask those boys in New Zealand.
No need. You can see the seeds that Mr. Tamatea planted.