My MTC Experience in a Mere 1,000 Words

The following is a verbatim excerpt from an e-mail I received just a few days ago from one of my students:

Hey there Mr. Jones,

So I just decided to send you an email. You might have noticed in the hall I
had obviously been crying. I was forced to accept the fact that I might have
to drop out of school and get my GED, or take summer school, but either way
I don't get to graduate with my friends. This is a hard time in my life,
being forced to finally account for my schoolwork, or lack thereof. I've
always been a super slacker, as you might have noticed, and it has nothing
to do with my teachers, it has to do with me. I'm sorry if I've ever
offended you with my not turning in of homework, or just general being a bad
Latin student. I really apologize for this, because Latin is and always has
been one of my favorite classes. You're one of my favorite teachers in all
of my schoolings. That's out of . . . 63 teachers, student teachers, and
teachers assistants (essential another teacher to help because of rowdy
first graders). I didn't just make that number up, I figured it out, and
that's a much larger number than I was expecting, but my statement still
stands. You're a great teacher Mr. Jones. You've got passion and true
knowledge of your subject. If I end up withdrawing from school, I would want
to get a visitor pass so I could come to your class. Not necessarily for
Spartacus (though I need to watch it), but for Plato. For learning. I don't
come to your class to get a grade, I come to your class because I love your
class (obviously, since I'm missing quite a few grades), and I wouldn't want
other classes I have ruining that. I should be in your class all day
tomorrow, but I'm unsure what I'll be doing in there. You could make that
easier by having an awesome class discussion, or just telling us about
togas. I still want to know about togas. Or anything you want to talk about.

Also, I never made you that clock, and art stuff is usually something I do
get done. Maybe that'll happen in some free time, or some sort of comparable
gift that is more "soon to be a doctor," appropriate. Oh, and none of the
colleges I applied for asked for teacher recommendations for some reason,
otherwise I would have hit you up for some.

If I were walking with my friends, I would have sent you an invitation.
Maybe when I graduate college (fingers crossed).

I’ll keep it as a reminder of what I’ve done down here in Mississippi; these words are a permanent reminder of the transformation I underwent in just two short years from someone who couldn’t bear to do anything besides show up at school to someone who in the end was performing the cumulative jobs of at least several people.

I’m not entirely sure now that I have any particular and novel last words concerning my experience in MTC and Mississippi. It seems to me that my eyes have been opened to three distinct new cultures and ideas: that of the racially and economically divided city of Jackson, that of the university as a center for job training, and that of the working professional. Concerning the first two, I feel that I’ve really spoken my piece prodigiously in this blog in the past, so I’ll truncate the bottom line here for present purposes – so no crazy arguments against me, please, unless you’d like to me to explain in more depth first and then have it out with me. First, Jackson’s troubles run much deeper than anyone can recognize, but at least I have lived through it in some small way and know enough to realize that I’ll never understand the half of it. And second, far from affecting significant systematic change, MTC quite unintentionally helps maintain the status quo of the deplorable state of education in Mississippi and is itself an unfortunate product of the abandonment by many universities of the intellectual tradition/journey in favor of practically meaningless job training.

The third idea, the culture of the working stuff, to put it colloquially, is what I’d really like to discuss for a few moments. One of my constant complaints about becoming the Super Teacher I’ve worked so hard to be is that it leaves me precious little time to work on projects for myself and/or relax, that is, even the simple things like keeping up with my New Yorker subscription or finding time to catch a movie in the theaters. Any spare time I have is consumed by being too tired to do much of anything besides completely zone out for an hour or two every night. Since graduating from Notre Dame, one of the most important aspects to my life has been the promise that I will keep up with my readings and purely intellectual undertakings, but when I do have the leisure time I lack the energy. And leisure time is necessary for those undertakings, as every philosopher from Aristotle to Pieper would claim. Another famous clichéd but entirely true quotation: “The unexamined life is not worth living.” The School of Education at Ole Miss at least explicitly harps on the idea of the educator as a reflective professional. But does the precondition of the implicit connotations of professionalism naturally exclude the ability to reflect? If I took the time to reflect, will I not have taken that time away from my students? Is there, briefly, a way to marry the two opposing moral forces? I’m not so sure…
I must cut it short here before I meander too far, since I’m beginning to grow nostalgic and feel bittersweet with my tenure in Mississippi coming to a close. MTC blog, goodbye for good? But there was so much more to discuss!