I Have a Dream

In January, I decided to teach my English Club and my 10th grade about Martin Luther King, Jr. and the civil rights movement.

In English Club, we read a play that I found that summarized the main events of the civil rights movement. The narrator elaborated on the situation of the day, and then the famous Rosa Parks bus scene played out. The chorus chanted together “Don’t move, Rosa! Don’t you move! You have a right to stay where you are!” The play took us through Martin Luther King Jr.’s life and his work to make positive changes with peaceful resistance. It seemed like a lofty topic for 5th and 6th graders, but they surprised me. At the end of the lesson, they each wrote down what their dreams were for people. A few students wrote things like “I want to be a breakdancer,” but most wrote things like “My dream is for all people to have the same rights.” “I wish for all children to have parents.” “I dream for everyone to have good pay.” Pretty awesome for 11 year-olds!

As for the 10th formers, for one week, we learned about Dr. King’s life and the civil rights movement. We made a timeline of events, started from the end of the Civil War, all the way up to current celebrations of MLKJr. Day. Teaching this class is pretty hard, because of the huge differences in language levels between the students. (Some of the pupils have had English 5x a week for several years, while some kids have only had 2x a week for even less time). I decided to throw all English teaching into the wind, and focus on getting the ideas through to them.

We defined a list of words – segregation, discrimination, racism, unite, support – all sorts of things to get the topic rolling. They had never heard of Martin Luther King, Jr. before, so we started at the very beginning. I explained what the Civil War was about, Jim Crow laws, and the general state of African Americans’ lives during the first half of the 20th century. Being teenagers, they were uninterested in most of what I had to say, until I got in their faces. I asked them “What would you do, blonds, if I said that all of you were worse and less than the people with brown hair? Or girls, if I told you that you weren’t even a real person because you weren’t a man?” This got their attention. I asked “Wouldn’t you just get tired of it all? Being treated terribly?” and they all nodded. I told them about Rosa Parks. They chuckled at her name, and at the idea of a woman’s refusal to move starting such a revolutionary movement. When I showed her picture to the class, they fell silent. “She’s just an old lady. And they arrested her? She just wanted to sit…” one student mumbled. In Ukrainian culture, older people are revered. My students are rarely in contact with someone of a different ethnicity, but the idea that someone older would be treated so poorly was beyond them (I explained later that in 1955, Parks was only 42).

The next week, on Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, we watched the “I have a dream” speech on a projection screen. We had talked about leaders and what characteristics they have. I summarized the speech itself, gave out keys words, and translations for various parts. The speech actually had English subtitles on youtube. Encouraging them to listen not only for words they could understand, but the feeling they got from the speech, we sat down and watched.

It was strange for me. I haven’t watched the speech in its entirety since I was in high school. It something I hear quoted pretty often, so I figured that I wouldn’t really be moved. I tried to listen as though I were a Ukrainian teenager, hearing about this for the first time. Realizing that society in America is not and was not always carefree and full of movie stars, with everyone eating McDonald’s. I listened for phrases that were repeated, each time gathering more meaning, absorbing the passion with which Dr. King spoke. I heard the urgency in his tone, the feeling of which carried more weight than the words themselves. My goosebumps were overwhelming, as he declared “Let freedom ring”, as the words I have sung countless times finally struck something in me so proud and so alive, I could hardly breathe.

The students were fidgety and chatting, playing with their cell phones throughout the speech. I’m not sure how much of anything they will retain for the future, which is a little disappointing. Having exposed them to the ideas of peaceful resistance, tolerance, and acceptance, I hope that I’ve at least done them a little bit of good.