Transcriber: Mohiedden Albendqji
Reviewer: Denise RQ
I love stories.
I love hearing stories,
I love telling stories,
I love reading stories;
stories like "To kill a mockingbird"
with Atticus Finch,
who in 1932 asked his children
to really get to know people,
that they had to walk in their shoes
and climb in their skin.
C. S. Lewis once said,
"We read to know we are not alone."
Hi, I'm Martha Swindler,
and I've been teaching
English Language Arts
here at Barnstable High School
for over 20 years.
Often, people have said, "How is it
that you connect with your students?"
For the first part of my career,
the answer was easy:
I teach English.
Literature lends itself
to the human connection
and with journal questions,
and discussion questions,
it was easy to connect,
because I often say to my students
that I would never ask them
to share something
that I am not willing to share myself.
So I tell them my stories.
But the question becomes
how do you teach them
to connect with each other
outside the classroom?
About 12 years ago, my life changed again.
Challenge Day came
to Barnstable High School,
and they still come every year,
and luckily, our freshmen
for the past five years
it's been a freshmen workshop,
so all of the students
in our building can say
they have been invited to Challenge Day.
These cool, hip, California facilitators
come and create a safe environment
where teachers and students become real.
The day culminates
with a small group, your family.
In that family, everyone is given
two minutes to share
who they really are,
and the small family listens.
If that listening is active,
and if they are in the moment,
then you have walked in their shoes,
and you have climbed in their skin.
Two minutes is all it takes of listening.
Listening is a ripple,
it's often overlooked
because it appears to be too passive,
but listening, especially to the youth,
empowers them.
They become more resilient,
and in turn, they listen to others,
and the ripple goes on and on.
When I was young,
I am amazed to tell you
that my father met
Archbishop Desmond Tutu in 1976.
They were at a global convention
of the Anglican Church.
My father is now
a retired Episcopal bishop,
and as you may likely know,
Desmond Tutu is
the first Black Archbishop of Cape Town,
and the 1984 Nobel Peace Prize winner.
But before any of that, in 1976,
my father was chosen as Director
of Saint James Church at Madison Avenue
in New York City,
and Desmond became Bishop Tutu of Lesotho.
My father arrived at the congregation
and wanted the parishioners to know
about the abominations
happening in South Africa
that he had heard from Desmond.
They bonded over
long probably boring meetings
in Trinidad and Tobago
over some tasty rum drinks.
My father listened to his stories
and wanted these people
in New York City to know
what was really happening in Apartheid.
So he raised money and brought Desmond
to Saint James Episcopal Church
at Madison Avenue.
I am blessed to say that I heard
that man speak many, many times.
He talked to us,
these ordinary, albeit wealthy people
about how we could send ripples of hope
halfway around the world to South Africa.
He talked about love,
and understanding, and our connectedness:
Ubuntu, as he had learned as a child;
"I am because you are,"
"I am because we are."
He made us feel important.
I used to share with Desmond.
He would come to visit,
and he would stay in our apartment.
Most of the lessons I learned
from Desmond were not from a pulpit,
they were in my own home.
He would listen to me
as I would share stories
about New York City and American culture.
I remember one time
when he was coming to visit
I videotaped in one of those
old school VCRs, for you young people,
and I videotaped
Michael Jackson's "The man in the mirror"
because Desmond didn't even know
he was in the music video.
So I paused to show him,
and I remember hearing him laugh and say,
"Look, look, I am on MTV."
(Laughter)
He listened.
Archbishop Desmond Tutu,
the great changer of change,
listened to me.
One of my favorite stories
is that he came to visit at the same time
my parents were having a fundraiser
for my very small,
independent elementary school
- this was about 1980,
I was in fourth grade -
and my teacher wanted to meet
the increasingly famous Desmond Tutu.
So I told the Bishop all about her;
about how beautiful she was,
how smart, creative,
and caring, and patient,
and Susan Morgan was all of those things.
So I remember she arrived in my apartment,
I grabbed her by the hand,
and I took her over to meet Bish.
He took her hand in both of his,
and he shook her hand and said,
"It's a pleasure to meet you.
Martha has told me so much about you."
Then he laughed his silly laugh,
and I said, "What are you laughing at?"
in my sassy way.
He said, "You never told me
that she's black."
"I never thought of her that way,"
was my response.
He went back to South Africa,
and reporters asked him,
"What do you want?
What do you want
for the future of South Africa?"
Bish answered them
telling that story about me.
He had listened
to a chubby little fourth grade kid
and made me feel important,
like the way I thought was the future.
Well, when Apartheid was abolished,
Desmond was chosen
to be in charge of a commission
that would deal
with Human Rights violations
that had occurred during the government.
Because the world knew, like I know,
that Desmond would listen
to both Blacks and whites,
and that Bish would bring
healing to all South Africans;
because they know, the way I know,
that the magic of Desmond Tutu
is in his ears, and then,
it's in his words.
His ripple hit me, and I've come
to Barnstable High School,
and it hits all of you as I try to listen.
Forty years later,
he still laughs and makes me laugh,
and he still listens to my stories
about the students
at Barnstable High School,
and what they are doing to be the change.
He takes my face in his hands and says,
"Listen to them, they will take care
of you when you're old."
(Laughter)
So after today, this amazing day,
we've all been given
a whole new skills set
on how to send ripples
of hope, and love, and compassion.
It is that kind of ripple
that has and will always create
effective positive change in the world.
I hope that you will remember
it's the small acts,
the smile, the "hello" in the hallway,
the high-five on a Friday morning,
and listening, really listening
to each other.
Thank you.
(Applause)
