Bird Droppings June 6, 2026
Can we use the word sacred truthfully?

“Teachers who do not take their own education seriously, who do not study, who make little effort to keep abreast of events have no moral authority to coordinate the activities of the classroom.” Paulo Freire, Pedagogy of Freedom

I have been a student and learner for some time. I want to say I am a teacher at times, sharing pieces of what I have experienced over my seventy-six years. For me, it is more about sharing those pieces than about using the word “instruction”. I somehow always conceive of instruction involving step-by-step directions and pieces to glue together with what we used to call airplane glue. My life has been one of many pathways and trails that have led me to where I am now. Sitting writing about education and about living a life, trying to maximize each breath and every overturned pebble. I find it amusing that, as I talk with teachers, those who turn over rocks as they journey in search of new creatures seem to be some of the best teachers. I admire those who are constantly looking and learning. I ventured further into learning by pursuing an MAT in Elementary Education to get certified. I feel it is our youngest whom we need to focus our attention on. Almost a year ago, my granddaughter handed me this poem.

Charlotte Bird September 26, 2024

I am from seashells and bookcases,

from sunscreen and puzzles.

I am from the staircase decorated with Christmas lights.

 From the smell of beaches to the smell of pine forests in the winter.

I am from the rose bushes.

I am from the pine trees whose long-gone limbs

I remember it as my own.

 I am from curly hair and straight noses from my mother and grandmother.

I am from nail biting and elegant writing.

I’m from singing in church.

I’m from Panama City.

 From Mac and Cheese and casserole.

 I’m from my grandfather’s stories

from, which he never gets tired of telling.

From the generations of pictures and stories

for which I keep in a woven box under my bed.

A tear came to my eye when she handed this to me, and today, when I opened the memory.

“Man did not weave the web of life – he is merely a strand in it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself.” “How can you buy or sell the sky, the warmth of the land? The idea is strange to us. If we do not own the freshness of the air and the sparkle of the water, how can we buy them? Every part of this earth is sacred to my people. Every shining pine needle, every sandy shore, every mist in the dark woods, every clearing and humming insect is holy in the memory and experience of my people.” Chief Seattle, 1854

This is a portion of the surrender speech of Chief Seattle in 1854, as translated by Dr. Henry Smith from a column in Seattle Sunday, October 29, 1887. So, realistically, on a cloudy morning, what is sacred? Sounds like a silly question, but for some, it is the sacraments of the Church; for others, the Holy Bible, Qumran, or the Torah. Throughout the world, we can find Saturdays, Mondays, or numerous other holy days on which people express their beliefs. Native Peoples were perhaps too simplistic in their search for the concept of sacred. William Edelen, author and former pastor, titled one of his books “In Search of the Mystery.” I was reading emails earlier today, and a good friend from many years back wrote about the easing of environmental laws for corporations and how a thimbleful of mercury could contaminate all the fish in a lake, and the lessening of restrictions on mercury by chance in chemical processing in industry will release tons into our environment, all because someone needs to make another buck. The head of the EPA and four or five Supreme Court Justices both worked for the same chemical company and have been involved in legislation favorable to that company.

“Teaching, like any truly human activity, emerges from one’s inwardness, for better or for worse. As I teach, I project the condition of my soul onto my students, my subjects, and our way of being together. The entanglements I experience in the classroom are often no more or less than the convolutions of my inner life. Viewed from this angle, teaching holds a mirror to the soul.” Parker Palmer, The Courage to Teach

Teaching to Palmer is a sacred thing, as we impact children who are literally learning as we speak, just by watching us. It is hard not to tie this back to a mini history lesson: the first settlers wanted to buy land, and the indigenous people said it was not for sale; it was sacred and should be used only as needed, not exploited. As the legend has it, we civilized people will destroy all animals and plants, and one day be gone when they are of no use to us anymore; the buffalo and deer will come out of hiding, the trees will return, and then “the people” can return home.

We all look at life around us from different perspectives, some seeing a large tree as firewood, others seeing it as a wondrous living thing to share with grandchildren. Yesterday, for the second day in a row, a hawk was circling, screaming as if it flew in circles. On Sunday, my wife, granddaughter, son, and I first heard this hawk circling a great sycamore tree near the house. We have had a pair of red-tailed hawks hunting around our house for six years now. When we first moved in, they were doing a mating flight over our house, circling and diving together. My first impulse was that one of the hawks had died. I searched around the sycamore tree yesterday and found nothing. Yesterday, the great hawk flew circles over the pines next to our house again, screaming continuously. I stood in silence, watching the circle follow the wind updraft and then drop again, only to rise screaming every minute or so.

Perhaps some teachers might not need to go to work on some days, as I thought back to my reading of Parker Palmer’s book. The idea of a mirror image of an inward look ties in with my own ideas of trust, of building a comfort zone with students, and then, as I look beyond teaching, is this not true for every aspect of our lives, teacher or not? Should we each not be going further than simple existence? Palmer describes the process as coming from within, untangling convolutions and touching the soul. The word “project” is used, and, truly, we do project our inner selves as we walk through life. Dr. Laura Nolte states so eloquently, “Children learn what they live.” Are we comfortable with who we are and where we are?

Every day, I will find people seeking answers. Sometimes simple questions, other times more perplexing and deeper, are asked of me. It is this process of looking for answers that shapes who we are and develops, for us, what I am calling sacred. It is this process of inquiry that enhances our ability to deal with and go beyond daily issues. It is taking what seems like defeat and turning it into victory.

“It goes on one at a time, it starts when you care to act, it starts when you do it again after they said no, it starts when you say we and know who you mean, and each day you mean more.” Marge Piercy, The Low Road

I went to a nursery the other day, perhaps one of my favorites in the area. They specialize in native plants and herbs, as well as landscaping plants and traditional garden varieties. They are going out of business not because they do not believe in what they do and enjoy it, but because, as with so many aspects of farming, prices have been rather stable for thirty years, and the cost of living has not. Another landscaping business closed its retail outlet a few years back, but I recall that just outside their office was a boulder with a hole drilled in it, and a fountain bubbling out of it. This package was $1,550 installed. Next to the price is what constitutes the fountain: two hundred fifty pounds of river rock, two hundred pounds of colored crushed lava rock, a drilled boulder which had to be near a ton, a pond liner, ten landscape timbers, 1000 pounds of crushed granite, and a pump kit. It took numerous pieces to make the whole.

I was amazed by the simple fountain and how peaceful it was, water bubbling out of a rock, flowing over into the river and stones; it was a whole that was the sum of its parts. Without a pump kit to push the water and create the fountain, it was just a rock. You could say that without the boulder, it would have been only a bubbling of water in a pile of rocks. I have found that each of us is similar; we are pieces of a whole and, inside, a driving force. As Palmer uses the words soul and heart interchangeably in his book, it is here that we determine what is sacred for ourselves. If that pump stopped working on that simple fountain, all effect is gone. We need maintenance on our heart and not just our physical heart, but that of our emotional heart, so that that fountain flows and the entire package has meaning as we go out in our days. So dear friends, please keep all in harm’s way on your mind and in your hearts and always give thanks, namaste.

My family and friends, I do not say this lightly,

Mitakuye Oyasin

(We are all related)

docbird