Mining For Hidden Gems

Last August as we sat in our school library and brainstormed procedures and protocols to keep our school a safe and orderly place, I could not define the uneasy feeling that stopped me from fully participating in the conversation.  We talked about what our cafeteria, hallways and parent pick up areas should look like, sound like and feel like.  We made a list of what our expectations of ourselves as teachers were and we all agreed to them.  We agreed on the rules, posted them where we would be reminded of them and committed to enforce them.  The whole time what was going through my head was: Why are we here?  Is our job only to monitor these kids during the eight hours or so that they are with us so they won't hurt each other and/or damage any property?  Or are we here to teach them how to get along and respect themselves and their communities?  Are we merely monitors or should we act more like mentors?  The job of the monitor is to enforce the ru...

I remember the moment exactly.  I was about 8 years old, standing in the kitchen of this rental house we lived in while my father was building a house for us.  My mother is at the sink and for some reason she tells me this story:  One day a man took his son to Prophet Muhammad for advice.  Apparently, the boy had a problem with overeating and could not control his intake of dates, the staple food of the desert people.  He wanted the Prophet to council his son against gluttony.  Muhammad tells the man to go away and come back the next day.  When they return the following day, Muhammad admonishes the boy and teaches him a lesson in moderation.  The grateful father is puzzled as to why this conversation could not have taken place the day before.  When he asks, Muhammad replies:  Yesterday, when you arrived, I had myself eaten a large amount of dates.  I could not, in good conscience, reprimand your son for doing something that I had do...