A Teacher's Promise

Artichoke reminded me of my promise to students. The promise begins with this simple utterance of one's predisposition: "To say 'I am a teacher' is to make promises to students, promises that we must be faithful to."

What is a promise? It is a vow and a declaration of one's commitment to the emancipation and transcendence of ephemeral life. In the structure of this promise is the dedication to multiculturalism, anti-discriminatory laws, anti-prejudicial dictations, democratic politics, and nomadic philosophies. A promise is an affirmation and a sacriligeous asseveration to the mutilation of inimicalism and to disintegrated borders; to avow the shifting movements of identities unconstrained by conservative law, institutions, government and moral ethics. A promise is a paradox. For it is always and must always be forged in the matrix of human relations and power. And we have learnt dearly that two entities - human and power - are a bad combination. We now acknowledge, as we have always acknowledged, that this web is shifty and unpredictable. A quantum matrix of human relations created by promises and exists only to be forgiven for its inability to meet expectations.

I am reminded of Hannah Arendt's words in the Human Condition. In the logic of action there are two conditions of performance. The first is 'forgiveness' and the second is 'promise.' In this she states most clearly:

The possible redemption from the predicament of irreversibility – of
being unable to undo what one has done though one did not, and
could not, have known what he was doing – is the faculty of forgiving.
The remedy for unpredictability, for the chaotic uncertainty of the
future, is contained in the faculty to make and keep promises ...
Forgiving serves to undo the deeds of the past ...; and the other,
binding oneself through promises, serves to set up in the ocean of
uncertainty, which the future is by definition, islands of security
without which not even continuity, let alone durability of any kind,
would be possible[.] (p. 237)

Forgiveness is enacted under the conditions of promises. What and how we commit ourselves to is predetermined by the logic of action; that is, we will always fail to uphold our promises and thus would ask for forgiveness for our falllible actions. We promise the world harmony and we promise the world peace; we promise ourselves love and honour, and we promise others the same. Yet how many times have these promises been twarted and cursed? How many times more must we seek forgiveness for our actions which has failed to meet even the toe-dirt of emancipation? And I ask, could we ever, as pedagogues and intellectuals, learn to accept our disabilities which outlines the fact that we can never fix broken promises?

Judge me as you will. I no longer ask for forgiveness. I have exhausted my promises. I must meditate on what it means to be a teacher again. Perhaps I should not say that I am a teacher, but let that judgement be made by my students. Then, maybe - just maybe, I shall receive promises in which I may forgive. For in the chaos of the classroom and the inferno of their seeking minds, my students cast out an inquiring hook to my being. Latched and secured, the line reels back and examines the food of knowledge in which I provided. They smell it and they taste it. Some spit in distaste and others lavish in the texture of dissidence. But finally, I am but an empty signifier waiting be given meaning. They shall judge and promise me their attention. They shall cry in ecstacy or boredome and promise me love or hate. But their actions would be negotiated and when this signifier is filled, I will be equiped to judge in return. And then I will not be burdened with making promises but perform as the pedagogue of forgiveness.