From the director's desk . . .
Dear ELI friend,
This is the season when citizens around the world, in the spirit of the holidays and in marking the passage of another year, wish each other peace and goodwill. And, as has been true for so many Decembers before, the hope for peace contrasts with the reality of war and conflict, a fact underscored for my family this year as our only son, David, serves with the U.S. army in Iraq. We have joined a strange fellowship with millions of parents throughout history who have watched their sons and daughters go off to a war not of their making, praying they might return unscarred in body and spirit.
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Director Scott G. Stevens |
One December long ago, in the first year of World War I (“the war to end all wars”) there was an unusual truce that began spontaneously between German and British troops, without any help from emissaries or diplomats. When a few German soldiers in Belgium began singing the Christmas hymn, Stille Nacht (Silent Night), the British troops across the battlefield started singing as well. Soon they began shouting Christmas greetings at each other from behind their defenses. Eventually, soldiers from both sides climbed out of their trenches, leaving their weapons behind to exchange gifts of chocolate and cigars and wish each other good cheer. After giving holiday toasts, they helped each other bury their dead and said prayers together for their fallen comrades. Quickly the truce began spreading to other parts of the battle lines. The enemies began playing soccer together. Soon peace was breaking out everywhere — along with laughter, handshakes and camaraderie.
Hearing news of the informal truce, the generals on both sides became alarmed, fearing that emerging friendships would rapidly weaken the will of their soldiers to fight. They quickly ordered artillery fire to break the truce and repeated that order every Christmas Eve for the rest of the war. They also began regularly moving soldiers to different battle fronts to keep them from becoming overly familiar with their enemies, knowing that it’s far easier to kill faceless, nameless and objectified combatants than fellow men with names, families and dreams.
Thirty-two countries fought in World War I and some 38 in World War II. With the exception of the English-speaking countries, virtually all of them are represented at our Institute in the course of a year. Grandsons and granddaughters from nations once engaged in mortal combat now play soccer together, as once did their ancestors on that snowy Christmas Eve in 1914. Fortunately, ELI employs no officers to break the truce. In fact, our “battle plan” is to do the very thing those generals feared in 1914: have our students become so familiar, so intimate that they would never raise their hands in anger toward one another. Of course, in truth, our main mission is to teach English, but once students from different countries, cultures and faiths come together to share a language, they are armed with the means of sharing so much more — discovering commonalities they had not imagined and differences they need no longer fear.
I have come to regard cross-cultural friendships as weapons of mass destruction, for, you see, the making of one Muslim friend by a non-Muslim can annihilate a lifetime of bias and mistrust, can unleash utter devastation upon the strongholds of stereotypes. And so it is for Christian and Jew, for Korean and Japanese, for American and Iranian. One friend of another religious or ethnic affiliation has the nearly unimaginable potential to humanize every other person of that background.
I feel deeply privileged to work with some of the most gifted teachers and tutors in the profession, but they do far more than teach English as a second language. They also teach mutual respect and, nearly every day, learn the power of peace and reconciliation from their students. To be part of this global community we call “ELI” is enough to fill one with the hope, however foolish and quixotic, that ours may be the last generation to send our children to war. That is my holiday wish for you and for all of us.
Sincerely,
Scott G. Stevens
P.S. This beautiful newsletter is the wonderful creation of Barbara Morris, editor-in-chief, and editors Wendy Bulkowski, Janet Louise, Sarah Petersen and Grant Wolf, with the collaboration of their colleagues.