SPRING FLOWERS

(a poem by 11 years old  Emma)

Last night,

My dad brought home

A bouquet of fresh flowers,

Wrapped in brown paper and string.

We placed a vase of fresh water

On the table for the flowers.

We untied the string,

And the sweet, sweet aroma of their beauty

Escaped, and glorified the room. 

 

I wondered, how, in these depths of winter,

Spring never fails to crawl in.

How light always finds darkness

How company finds loneliness,

How truth finds lies.

How good wins over evil.

AUTHORITARIAN AND HUMANE PEDAGOGY

Assuming that school is an institution for the development of the human spirit, we should also assume that it is a place of love, respect and support. A place where the human spirit, regardless of age, feels free, joyful and inspired to grow. A place where learning outcomes, achievements and success go hand in hand with the development of a free spirit, creativity and intellectual curiosity.

Probably every teacher has wondered what kind of teacher they want to be. A strict teacher who achieves good discipline, makes students fearful, keeps them silent, expects them to follow commands and instructions without question, gives them no voice and no choice, and demands complete obedience? Or, on the contrary, an understanding and compassionate person who does not punish because they believe punishment humiliates the individual? A teacher who sees each student as a unique person, respects them, values their opinions, listens to their thoughts, seeks their advice on improving the learning process, and motivates them through persuasion so that they genuinely want to learn because they believe in their limitless potential. A teacher who inspires success because they themselves are inspired by their work.

The first type of teacher is traditional and conservative and represents, generally speaking, authoritarian pedagogy, in which the teacher is the active authority while the student is a passive participant with very little choice, expected simply to do what adults decide is best. 

STORM

(a poem by 11 years old Emma)

In the peace and quiet and dead of the night,

A small wind blows,

It rattles the chimney like a sinister ghost.

People curl up in their beds, shivering.

The wind grows stronger,

Hurtling recklessly in every direction.

The trees thrashing around,

Casting trembling shadows through windows.

Next comes the endless rain,

Beating on the windows like a drum,

Like a heart beat.

The rain tries to escape

From the howling echo that is the wind.

The rain tries to be independent from the wind,

To create its own path in life.

The rain battles on tirelessly throughout the night,

Until it finishes victoriously, tired but content.

Independent.

It is free from the ferocious wind,

Until the next storm in life.

АВТОРИТАРНА И ХУМАННА ПЕДАГОГИКА

Ако приемем, че училището е инструмент за развитието на човешкия дух, най-общо казано, то би трябвало да допуснем и че това е пространство на любовта, уважението и подкрепата. Място, където човешкият дух, независимо от възрастта си, се чувства свободен, радостен и вдъхновен да се развива. Място, където учебните резултати, постиженията и победите вървят ръка за ръка с развитието на свободния дух, творческия потенциал и интелектуалните предизвикателства.

Вероятно всеки учител се е замислял какъв учител иска да бъде – строг, който може да постигне добра дисциплина в час и да накара учениците да се страхуват, да стоят неподвижно, да изпълняват команди и инструкции безпрекословно, да нямат право на глас и на избор и да му се подчиняват напълно. Или да бъде точно обратното – разбиращ, хуманен, който не наказва, защото за него наказанието е унижение на личността. Който те вижда като индивидуалност, уважава те като личност, интересува се от твоето мнение, вслушва се в твоите мисли, търси твоите съвети, за да подобри учебния процес, успява да те мотивира с методите на убеждението така, че сам да поискаш да направиш нещо, защото вярва, че си уникално явление с неограничени възможности, които могат да бъдат развивани всестранно. Учител, който те вдъхновява за победи и успехи, защото самият той е вдъхновен за работата си.

Първият тип учител представлява традиционната, консервативна, авторитарна педагогика, най-общо казано, при която учителят е активният възрастен с неограничена власт, а ученикът е пасивният елемент, който почти не притежава право на избор и който трябва безпрекословно да прави това, което възрастните решат, че е добро за него.

STORMS IN LIFE

The seagulls circle hungry over the city. The birds sound anxiously in the forest. The trees are bare and defenseless in their grief of the summer. The clouds are low and black. You are alone behind the wall. You are full of anticipation for our meeting. And I fight the overhanging clouds.

Betrayal. A knife in the back of humanity. A slap in the face of divine reflection. It does not matter to you that I am also a divine reflection. That I feel the pain of humiliating me, of your attempt to put me on my knees. You are trying to break me by offering me, instead of compassion, an ice wall to hide behind so that the blows sent to me do not hit you. You stand hidden behind a wall and swallow your own humiliation and cowardice. You are so afraid to show up on my side, lest you be hurt. The darkness covered your body, which convulsed under the shock of your conscience. You want, you really want so much to go through the wall that divides us, to roll up your sleeves, and to give justice. You want to help me so much to deal with the looming black clouds above me that you are not doing anything, you are numb.

Across the wall, I meet the blows of fate with my eyes open. Today the world has decided to prove that it no longer believes in its god, and so it hits me. Through me, the world seeks to humiliate my God, to challenge him to save me at a time when the whole world is against me. The world is annoyed by the light of God I reflect. Others want to extinguish the light in me, to sink in pain, to question how strong his love for me is to save me.

You are on the other side of the wall and you are still sunk in your own spiritual darkness. You don't see a god in me to break the wall and to want to save me. Because if you can see a god in me, it will remind you that he is also in you, that we are part of one light. You only see my body, because you only know it, my soul and my heart remain unknown for you for now. Because you don't want to get to know them, fascinated by the waves of the flesh. Therefore, the wall does not move in front of you. Until you know what it is to love through your heart.

I seek silence to escape from the world. I seek silence to hear myself better. I seek silence to find the answers within my heart. The silence that will hide me from the beats of the world. I sink into the embrace of silence.