Spirit Play, week 21

[edenfalling]

Happy birthday, lasultrix!

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Last week was the final OWL class, so we started the regular Spirit Play curriculum again this week. We have a team of 5 teachers this semester (5!), so we worked out a schedule for lead and assistants; this week, I was assistant to Bob's lead.

Today's lesson was "How Ganesh Got His Elephant Head," which is an interesting story. The thing is... Um. How to put this. Okay, so it's not as if I'm any expert on India or Hinduism -- far from it! -- but Bob apparently knows even less than I do. (I tend to think of myself as relatively ignorant about the world beyond America, so I am always unpleasantly surprised to realize that I may actually know more than at least 90% of my fellow Americans.) He wasn't overtly negative about the lesson, but he did say things like, "This is different from normal stories," thereby implying that Hinduism is somehow abnormal and less true/valid/important than secular western culture, and he compared Hinduism to Greek mythology, which... okay, yes, there are parallels, but the Greek pantheon is basically dead whereas Hinduism is vibrant, alive, and HUGE.

Also, the point he was specifically talking about is when Shiva kills Ganesh by cutting off his head. And all I could think was, "Obviously you haven't read the Bible or the uncensored versions of fairy-tales, if you think that sort of violence and death is anything unusual."

I know I have a terrible habit of taking over lessons because I always think I know how to explain things and tell stories better than anyone else, so I was metaphorically sitting on my hands trying not to say, "Um, no, you're wrong and this is why," because that destroys classroom order.

And yet, saying nothing would be just as bad. So I did try to sort of talk around the edges of what Bob said, noting that this was a story from India, so while it may seem odd in Ithaca it's perfectly normal there, and that Ganesh is worshiped here and now and often -- he's not 'exotic,' he's a god of everyday life, a friendly god -- but I have a terrible feeling that wasn't enough.

...

Damn it.

Comments

[willowgreen.livejournal.com]

I know I have a terrible habit of taking over lessons because I always think I know how to explain things and tell stories better than anyone else, so I was metaphorically sitting on my hands trying not to say, "Um, no, you're wrong and this is why," because that destroys classroom order.

I used to have the same problem with a couple of my co-teachers. It's really hard to know what to do in that situation. It sounds to me like what you did was just fine. Keep in mind that your kids will have many other opportunities to learn about Ganesh. You've done a lot just by introducing the story — as well as the idea that it's "not weird" somewhere else — so that they'll be able to understand it on a deeper level one of the next times they hear about it.

--Willowgreen, who finds teaching less stressful now that she just lead teaches once a month and rarely has to assist in anyone else's class. And oops, that reminds me that we have to finish scheduling the rest of the year.

[edenfalling]

I have had some co-teachers who were absolutely amazing at handling a classroom and getting smoothly from opening to lesson to activity to snack to free play, and who also read stories effectively. Sadly, I've had a lot more who while basically good with kids, were rather flaily about organization and who could make even a good picture book dull as dishwater.

Since a lot of the picture books used in lessons are awkwardly written at best (I find that 'teaching' books are often horribly stilted), this makes keeping the kids' attention during storytime a bit of a challenge. It also makes it hard to try to draw lessons from the story, because if they weren't listening, they can't answer questions based on the story. *sigh*

Anyway, I do think it's better to do an inept introduction to world religions than no introduction at all, and I'm sure the finer details of the story will quickly be lost in any case, but I still get twitchy. Some of that may be residual from my own childhood -- I was introduced to a lot of religious myths, but my parents presented them all on the same level as fairy-tales. Now, because I happen to be predisposed toward religious thinking and I deeply believe in the (subjective) truth of stories, that meant that I treated all religious myths as equally true, but I think my sister came away with the impression that all religious myths were equally false. And that bothers me when I think about it.