Freedom Writers

The Movie

I finally had the opportunity to watch the movie Freedom Writers starring Hilary Swank. (I'm always behind the loop on movies.) Anyway, the movie, based on a true story, deals with a young, idealistic teacher who wants to make a difference at an integrated, low-income school in the early 90s. She is assigned to teach freshman English. At first she has a really hard time--the kids' lives are consumed with racial tension, gang and domestic violence and drugs among many other things. But she doesn't start to connect with them until she starts a journaling project with them where they are able to write out their frustrations and experiences.

Me

I guess Freedom Writers touched me so deeply, first of all, because I am a teacher, going into my 3rd year of teaching, believe it or not, and I can identify with that spark, that idealism, that drive to want to make a difference that Hilary Swank's character had. It reawakened something in me because I have felt myself begin to lose that spark. It's so easy to get stuck in a routine, so easy to get jaded--and I don't even work at a tough school in the least bit. In fact, it's pretty upper crust. Perhaps the cushiness of my position has allowed me to get too comfortable.

Secondly, I was moved because it displayed the power of writing. What is it about pouring our hearts out on paper that is so transforming? For some reason, there's a different form of catharsis that happens with the written word than with the spoken word. Yes, I've experienced the burden that is lifted when you finally have the courage to talk about it. But something inexplicable, maybe even more profound in some ways, happens when you write about it.

Journaling

Last time I talked about blogging, which is a journaling of sorts, but bloggers always have their readers in mind. And for me, at least, there is a screen. There are always a few things that are filtered because no matter how authentic I may want to portray myself and my life, in the back of my mind I know that I am literally exposing myself to the world.

But I also have a personal journal. I've kept one consistently since I was twelve (back when I used to call it a 'diary'). There are no barriers because the only audience is myself and God. It's weird to look at something written by your own hand years ago and to think, "I can't believe I thought that!" Part of the wonder of it is that I can look back at things and see how I have evolved, changed and matured.

The Word

To me the Psalms seem like a Biblical version of journaling. David very honestly pours out his joys and frustrations. Perhaps he had time to read over them years later and to reflect and to realize that no matter how he felt at the time or what kind of hand life dealt him, God heard him.

(Still) currently reading (at a snail's pace): Never Eat Alone by Kevin Ferrazzi