Printer-friendly versionI do not bark. I do not swing open my mouth and chomp my teeth six times while telling a story. The n-word does not dart suddenly from my mouth. And derogatory comments about gays and lesbians? They do not spew from me.
My mere presence in a movie theater or a restaurant or a subway does not arouse anger or disgust from others.
But then, I am not Marc Elliot.
Marc has been demonized as a racist, once even banned from a Greyhound bus. People shun, fear, point at, laugh at and belittle him.
And they are inspired by him.
Marc Elliot has Tourette syndrome.
Between twitches and chomps, as well as a stream of anecdotes—some humorous, others painful—this 25-year-old invited the 600 students at my middle school to pretend for a moment that they, too, have Tourette.
They collectively rose from the gymnasium floor. Some barked. Some shouted. Many giggled.
I did not want to pretend. Others, like me, just stood there, hands deep in pockets.
“A lot of you didn’t tic because maybe it was embarrassing, or too awkward,” said Marc. “The important thing is to remember that you have the choice not to tic.”
Of course we do. But whoever really thinks about that?
Marc pressed all of us, teachers and students, to remember that we also choose whether to turn our assumptions about others into negative actions—into laughing, pointing, name-calling, or worse.
Marc, who graduated from the school district where I teach, now travels the country raising awareness about Tourette and about intolerance in general. With this aim, he has established this website http://whatmakesyoutic.com.
He urged us to be kinder than necessary, to remember that everyone is fighting his or her own battles about which we know little.
“Ask yourself, ‘Do I really know what is going on in that person’s life?’ The answer is usually no. Then make the choice to just let people be; live and let live.”
My student, Gwyneth Henke, recognized that beneath the storm of tics stood a human being with “an amazing spirit.” She wrote:
By the time Marc’s speech was over, I was ready to tape up a life-sized poster of him in my room and run down the streets with a marching band, screaming praise for him. I could see it in everyone else, too. This little spark of inspiration. A gleam in their eyes. A bounce in their step. The idea that maybe we could learn to be like this man—tolerant and kind, loving and accepting, afraid of nothing and ready to take on the world. Maybe we could really help someone, just by understanding. Maybe—just maybe—we could even change someone’s life.
Baker is a Teaching Tolerance blogger and language arts teacher at Wydown Middle School in St. Louis, Mo.
Comments
Deb, this is another
Deb, this is another well-written and inspiring post.
I think Marc and Gwyneth have an appreciation for empathy and both realize how our society would be much better if everyone thought empathically before acting.
May this article help all of us better understand the need for each of us to improve the trait of intellectual empathy.
I think "just by
I think "just by understanding" could help us understand how to be just :-) Thanks for sharing, Debra. You all (as we say here in South Carolina) are making the world a better place.
While I don't have Tourette's
While I don't have Tourette's I do have involentary movements caused by a nurological condition. I have to say that in many ways children are more understanding than adults. I have had adults walk right by me when I have had a 'drop attack' and landed on the floor, where as a student who is not even in my class has reached out and lifted me off the ground. Children really only need an explaination as to why while adults seemed to look on as if something is stange. In fact this year one of my students took the time to explain this his mother before she met me about my condition, when I started to have an "attack" during meet the teacher night I apologised, she said not to worry about it and the other parents followed her lead, they were more concerned with what I could and would do for their children then my movements and if I fell, because they knew I'd get up and keep going.
Your my hero. You not only
Your my hero. You not only have to deal with your physical problem, but also educate parents. I know that you teach children, but in return they educate their parents. What better way to educate adults, that would have probably walked pass you when you fell, then through their children. Maybe we should all take a lesson from the children. You know that saying, "the children will lead them."