Welcome to My Hallway

Hey everyone, long time no see.

It’s been a little less than two months since my last post, and that’s way too long without some sort of update. I have been writing, but the progress has been extra slow for a number of reasons.

First, I have the usual concerns that haunt my thoughts while writing. Am I saying something worthwhile? Is it useful? Is it important? Am I saying something unique, or am I just repeating things that I’ve read and heard elsewhere? Am I advancing the conversation or educating people?

Second, while writing, there’s a few structural questions that need to be answered, but the main one is always: How many words do I need to explain this idea? Followed by: How much attention can I expect from people when they read this? I’ve had trouble answering these questions recently; I have an idea that I’ve been working on, and I’ve been unable to settle on whether it’s a short conversation, an article, a longer or two-part article, or a book. Not knowing the structure makes it quite impossible to make any kind of forward momentum on writing it, but I think it’s going to be really good when I actually do finish it.

However, the real problem is that:

I am in The Fog.

You know what this is even if you’ve never been able to put it into words before. This is the feeling of unclarity that exists in our current modern political climate. The haze of things both in front of our faces and far off in the distance being smeared until we’re not sure where we’re going.

It’s easy to get lost in The Fog. You can get convinced that the people around you don’t care about the world. You can get convinced that there are two highly polarized sides to every issue and no way for them to come together. You can get convinced that there are no “people around you”, but instead are just strangers who are too stupid to understand all of the deeply profound moral sentiments that you have.

And then that spirals outward. You start asking yourself, “What is the point?” People don’t want to listen or won’t do anything to help. They are selfish, or cowardly, or stupid, or they don’t understand because of the way they were born or raised. YOU are smart because you see clearly what needs to be done, but it’s these OTHER PEOPLE who are too dumb or apathetic to go along with it.

Obviously, it’s an utterly useless way to think, in addition to being exactly the kind of thinking that prevents anything from being done. Even the smallest thing — just 0.001% of benefit to the world — that just one of us does moves the needle in the right direction. 0.001% of progress is still making the world a better place, but The Fog clouds our vision. “What’s the point?” says 10,000 people, not realized that collectively they could have made the world 10% better. And there are many, many more of us than just 10,000.

Nelson and the Whites

Nelson Mandela fucking hated white people.

And man, how could he not? Most of us will thankfully never have to experience the multiple, unending, and soul-crushing torment that he went through at every stage of his life at the hands of white people. Whether it be in apartheid South Africa, in prison, or having to navigate the political landscape as the first black president of a highly racist country in a highly racist world. What should have been a fulfilling, simple life as a lawyer was upended by some stupid fantasy about one group of people having all the power at the expense of another group of people.

And yet, in all of his interactions with people, his autobiography, and his public statements, he expresses nothing but kindness and understanding; one might even call it “amnesty”. Now, we can all understand an intense hatred of white people from his point-of-view, right? (Even though, as I always say, “There may be a reason, but not an excuse.”) And yet, despite definitely earning the opportunity and power to say or do anything to the white people in South Africa, he chose not to.

Was he just a kind person with a saint-like disposition? Perhaps, but I’d also like to believe that Madiba knew quite a bit about how to communicate with the people around him, and what would be best for everyone. There was a clear distinction between what was in his heart and how he interacted with everyone.

When you notice this, you begin to see the pattern emerge across revolutionaries from all time periods, cultures, and backgrounds. People like Malcolm X, Huey P. Newton, Castro, Lenin, Che Guevara…people that we have been told time and again are violent, bigoted, and full of hate, usually express at least benign indifference towards the groups and the people oppressing them. I don’t doubt that these people felt frustration and hatred. I suspect they always held those prejudices in their hearts until they died. But when it came time to The Work, they were ready to focus on what matters, and that wasn’t hate.

The Subway and The School

As I’ve mentioned many, many times before, I hate the subway. It truly brings out the worst, most misanthropic parts of my soul. I have no patience for people touching me, or blocking the aisle or making noise or smelling bad or putting their finger in their nose and then grabbing a handle. It’s awful and everyone is my enemy. Disgusting and annoying until proven innocent.

When I’m in school though, things are completely different. Like most teachers, my personality has a radical shift when I’m interacting with students. I make sure to greet them with the maximum amount of kindness and affection that I can muster (which is a lot). If they ask me a question, I treat it with grace and patience. They make mistakes and I do my best to help them, not only in the moment but for the long-term as well. Every day, every class, is a clean slate, where the wrongs they’ve done before are wiped clean, and I’m ready to accept them as good students if they’re ready to act that way. There is perhaps no insult they can throw my way to cause me any permanent harm or create anything more than a momentary frustration.

Like many of you, I struggle with the question of “What can I do?” All of us want to change the world or at least navigate through it comfortably, but get stuck about the how of it. I don’t have the answer, and in fact, I’m probably more lost than you when it comes to such things, especially now that I’m deep in The Fog. Everywhere I go, I see subways. When I get on social media, I’m irritated by everyone, the left and the right. When I walk down the street, all I see are potential enemies, people who are going to walk slowly in front of me or maybe that guy is going to start smoking or this stupid bitch on her cell phone is probably not paying attention to where’s she walking. When I interact with people, I’m ready to hear them say something wrong and poised to attack. “What do you mean the war in Gaza? Don’t you know that’s a genocide, you fucking moron?” When I write, I’m irritated with myself for not being skillful enough to make my ideas clear, and I’m irritated with you for not being skillful enough to understand my ideas. I’m angry, because I want to make the world better, but all I see is Fog.

The Hallway

This sounds bleak, and it is. I still don’t have the answer about how to make the world better, but I do know what to when I can’t see in front of me.

It’s unreasonable to think that I could be in “teacher mode” all the time. I can’t be perfectly patient and kind to everyone I interact with, in person and online. It’s easy and doesn’t help anyone if you and I are burnt out all the time. And what’s more, there are definitely some small numbers of people that don’t deserve it. All of those revolutionaries I mentioned before understood this as well: Some actions and some behaviors cannot go unpunished.

But there is a hallway. In the space between the superego “the classroom”, where I am 100% in the service of my students and the “teacher’s office” where I have my frustrations and anger at the world, there is “the hallway”. In the hallway, I can be friendly. I can make the effort to remember names. I can ask how the students are doing, and if they need help, I’m available. There are no enemies in the hallway, but there are responsibilities. If someone is fighting or someone looks depressed or tired, that’s my responsibility to step in and assist. The hallway is not, after all, a neutral space; It’s in my school, with my students. I’m not the only teacher in the building, but I am the one who is in the hallway, and I am the one who can make things better.

And why is behavior of mine limited to the twenty or thirty meters between my classroom and my office? What is stopping me from greeting my neighbors and making sure they’re ok? What is stopping me from extending this grace to the people I interact with online, or hell, even my friends, who deserve better treatment than what I provide?

Of course, I’m going to catch some shit in that school hallway. I’ve been doing this almost twenty years now and children are always unpredictable. There’s the kids who ignore me. There’s the ones who try to fuck with me because it’s funny, and they want to look good in front of their friends. There’s the ones who never seem to understand that I’m there to help and that I’m on their side.

But I keep going. Every day and every interaction is a clean slate. Even if my effect is small, just 0.001% improvement, I’m going to keep at it. Even if I can’t see far into the future and think that I will change much, it’s still my responsibility to do what I can. Despite anything that might happen, this hallway is still my responsibility, and I’m not giving up on it.