I went to sleep last night with two deaths on my mind. The deaths of Madhu and Madiba. Madhu was an ASB Alum. Madiba was the Father of a Nation. “I still cannot believe that my dear ex-student Madhu was murdered,” wrote a former ASB teacher on Facebook last night. Her teacher went on to write, “She was lovely and such a happy person. I can’t believe that this is what Life had in store for her.” Madhu was 32 years old. Hate killed Madhu.
Madiba, known to most of us as Nelson Mandela, spent more time in prison than Madhu spent alive. Hate imprisoned Mandela. In 1990, after suffering three decades of hateful incarceration, Mandela walked out of Victor Verster prison and said, “As I walked out the prison door toward the gate that would lead to my freedom, I knew if I didn’t leave my bitterness and hatred behind, I’d still be in prison.” Mandela went on to say,
I have been a father and an educator for as long as Mandela was in prison and for as long as Madhu was alive. Mandela was right: It is easier to learn how to love than it is to learn how to hate. The tricky part (the part that sends so many young children into hate) lies in our failure (the failure of families and of schools) to consciously teach love-our failure to inspire our children to pursue their dreams whilst (always and forever) enhancing the lives of others.
Mandela believed that, “Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world.” Again, I agree. So, let’s ask ourselves these three questions about the education of our children:
- Where and with whom are our children learning about who they are?
- Where and with whom are our children learning how to decide ‘how’ they want to, and should, live their lives?
- Where and with whom are our children learning the difference between right and wrong?
I sincerely hope you are confident, comfortable, and happy with your answers to these questions. After all, if you are reading this you are a probably a teacher or a parent, a human being. And to us, teachers and parents, there is nothing more important than the education of our children.
“May her soul rest in eternal peace,” Madhu’s teacher concluded her Facebook post. We wish the same.
Shakespeare called that place awaiting us after death, the “undiscovered country.” A country to which Madhu and Mandela have arrived at together. Shakespeare goes on to write:
“For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause.”
I hope Madhu gets to meet Mr. Mandela somewhere out there, in the undiscovered country. She’s going to need his support. I say this because of the dreams that may come to her. In dying, Madhu leaves behind her 2-year-old child. And, as a mother, Madhu must be worried sick about who is going to teach her child how to live and how to love. Madhu is going to need Mandela to tell her it’s going to be okay. He needs to tell her, as he has told South Africa and the world that this generation of youth (the generation of Madhu’s child) are going to be beautiful and amazing and powerful in their goodness. Mandela said that, “Sometimes it falls upon a generation to be great, [and that this generation] can be that generation.”
And, once again, I agree. The children of the American School of Bombay, and their peers around the world, must become the generation that builds upon the work of Mandela and all the giants who have been peacefully fighting the war for peace and against poverty and for education.
Our children must develop the skills and have the courage to move the scales, across the globe, in favor of love over hate. They must. And it’s our job, as parents and educators, to ensure that they are educated to be able to do so.