February 9: Lost the Power, Poetry, Human Matters

I don't want to be this slob with the safe

The air was filled with phantoms, wandering hither and thither in restless haste, and moaning as they went.  Everyone of them wore chains like Marley's Ghost; some few (they might be guilty governments) were linked together; none were free.  Many had been personally known to Scrooge in their lives.  He had been quite familiar with one old ghost, in a white waistcoat, with a monstrous iron safe attached to its ankle, who cried piteously at being unable to assist a wretched woman with an infant, who it saw below, upon a doorstep.  The misery with them all was, clearly, that they sought to interfere, for good, in human matters, and had lost the power for ever.

It's a frightening little paragraph.  The description of all these souls wandering through the world--trying to help the poor and homeless, trying to do things they should have done while alive--has always sent an icicle up my spine.  The film adaptations of this scene make good use of horror-movie special effects.  The ghosts are usually marble white with black sockets for eyes.  They moan, scream, wail. It's an image of eternal suffering that's hard to ignore or forget.

But, of course, we're not supposed to feel pity for these phantoms.  These are the souls of men and women who spent their earthly lives making other people miserable.  They dismissed hunger and want.  They put on blinders when they walked out on the street.  Human matters meant nothing to them, unless they could make some money.  Pretty much, they were Scrooge, pre-redemption.

It's really easy to become that self-absorbed.  It's easy to ignore things like poverty and famines in the world when I have taxes to worry about or heating bills to pay.  Unfortunately, the way society works these days, especially in countries geared toward capitalism, we're all sort of raised to worry only about ourselves.  The poor and destitute and unemployed are on their own.  I'm just as guilty of this attitude as the poor old slob with the iron safe chained to his ankle in the passage above.

But human matters are what we should all be worried about.  The reason I teach college is not to make a great deal of money (that's never happened anyway).  I teach college to try to make a difference people's lives.  That may sound corny or sentimental, but I want my students to leave my classroom a little wiser, a little more compassionate.  I want them to realize that being successful is not just about money.  It's about caring for people, making a difference in the world.

Today, I have to plan a poetry lesson for a second grade class I'm visiting tomorrow afternoon.  I've taught poetry to elementary schoolers since my daughter hit kindergarten.  It's one of my favorite things to do.  I'm not focused on myself and my problems when I'm with them.  I'm focused on these great kids who have excitement for everything I say.  The world hasn't gotten hold of them yet.  Well, it hasn't gotten hold of most of them.  And they really care.  They make me care.

Saint Marty wants to interfere, for good, in human matters.