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Recently, I caught two classes, from opposite sides of the globe, off guard. For several months, my class has been working with a group of students from Israel on a telecollaborative project called We the Children... For this project, both classes explored one of the most basic human rights -- the right to a safe place. For part of the project, students immersed themselves in identifying the characteristics of a safe classroom. They used those criteria to evaluate their classroom and their country in general.During this time, the Canadian and Israeli students e-mailed back and forth. The conversations focused on the things that concern most 13 and 14 year olds -- sports, music, weekend activities, and fashion. Throughout the e-mail correspondence, my students and I were perplexed that no one spoke of or even alluded to the frequent terrorist attacks in Israel. It wasn't until both classes of students handed in their reflective writing that a sobering picture of two very different living environments began to emerge. Using poetry as the format, the Israeli students began to describe the unsafe setting they call home. They told of being afraid of going into the street, attending movies protected by guards, and not being free to use buses or take trips. One student, Sharon, described the reality of her unsafe world and then fanaticized about living in Chicago, a place she considered very safe. Gilat reflected on living in Switzerland, a place she considered to be at peace with the entire world. The poignancy of her words will always stick in my mind:
"My teacher asked a question once: I began to realize that beneath the light-hearted exterior of these students' e-mails was a generation of fearful young adults trying to make sense of the everyday terrorism around them. Like my own students, they had become very good at masking the hurtful things in their lives by covering them up with humor, sullenness, and pranks.
I caught my own students off guard the day they sat at the computers watching a CNN photo essay depicting the recent terrorism in Israel. Up to this point, they had viewed their Israeli peers as they would any other13 or 14 year olds. I attributed this to receiving e-mails from Israel void of any mention of the suicide bombings or the violence that is part of daily life in Israel. As students flipped through the CNN images of chaos and bombings in Tel Aviv and Jerusalem, you could have heard a pin drop. During the debriefing session with students, our dialogue was solemn. One boy told of a peace rally he had attended at his synagogue that week and read parts of the program to the class. Another student commented that our telecollaborative project had helped her appreciate the safety of her country. She observed that studying alongside students in another culture had allowed her to make a personal connection with the people behind the unrest in Israel. This new revelation made it impossible for her to listen to news reports of suicide bombings in Israel with the same sense of detachment she had experienced before. Now she wondered whether her friend has been caught in the midst of the terrorism and was hurt. As I looked at their serious faces and read their passionate words, I realized that telecollaborative learning not only had broadened my students' worldview but also had caused in-depth learning and compassion to penetrate their hearts.
ADDITIONAL RESOURCES
Article by Brenda Dyck
Originally published 07/26/2002
Links last updated 12/16/2004
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