Triangulating hope

At today’s faculty meeting the whole faculty was invited to share stories about why we teach. At the time I chose to keep quiet and listen instead of speak. I hope this blog post isn’t too late for me to join the conversation.

The first circle of hell

This summer I offered Dante’s Inferno as a summer reading option for students. It was my first time reading it, and I really enjoyed it. (And so did 18 students. Who would have thought that 18 high schoolers would want to spend their summer reading Dante’s Inferno?)

But I was distracted the whole time. Even though I read each canto and traveled with Dante and Virgil through all nine circles of hell, my thoughts were stuck with those on the first circle. Since reading about the poor souls on that first circle I think I have been getting a little closer to putting my finger on what it is about teaching that speaks to me. 

A moral wrong

Our only punishment

is that we live on desire alone

but without hope.  (Canto IV)

I was so distracted after reading this passage that even thirty cantos (and eight circles) later I was not impressed by the image of Satan spending eternity munching on the most wicked souls in hell. This punishment — desire without hope — felt like such a moral wrong that I had a hard time shaking it. I couldn’t escape thinking that I see this punishment around me; I couldn’t escape thinking about the people whose day-to-day life is like living in Dante’s first circle of hell.

And since then I have been wondering if this is why I teach. I wonder if teaching is the clearest way for me to address this moral wrong that I see.

Now I just have to figure out what hope is

The only catch is that I haven’t yet been able to define what “hope” means to me. The best definitions I can muster are either circular or flimsy.

But I am getting close to triangulating an idea that rings true: that the heart of teaching has something to do with hope, creativity, and empowerment.

And if you read this far, then maybe you’ll help me narrow it down even further: how do you define what hope means to you?


[UPDATE: Click here to read Part II.]


2 thoughts on “Triangulating hope

  1. Hope is the trust that we can achieve or gain the object of our desire, or at least that it is possible that we can do so. There is something truthful about such a desire — it’s a worthy goal because it might be attained.

    Desire without hope is to be held by the power of desire with no expectation of achieving the object. The object has become a false idol — not false because it doesn’t exist, but false because it’s not a worthy or attainable object. It’s the hell of addiction, for instance — enslaved to a substance or behavior that will not satisfy.

  2. Pingback: Triangulating hope, Part II | They Call Me BC

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s