Trying to Teach Eugenio Maria de Hostos to Students at Hostos Community College – South Bronx, NY
Reverend Professor James Sheehan
“Hey, Señor Hostos, become alive!” That is easier said than done.
I will try to concentrate on three areas: The concern regarding self-esteem issues of community college students; the density of Hostos himself, in his thoughts, style and vocabulary; and signs of access—and yes, esperanza (hope).
Self-esteem of Students at Hostos
My interest in “Who’s Hostos?” was sparked when I met a muchacha 16 years ago at another community college. She briskly asked: “Why do you work in a stinky college? Who’s that guy anyway, a dead politician?”
Far from berating her—which would not be my style—I began to realize that real issues of pecking order continue to affect our students coming from the barrio. They have heard more than the professors have about the poor reputation that Hostos Community College has with its bilingual approach. To be sure, this is fading as the monolinguistic mania of having to learn the King’s English has won the day. To be transparent, to hear this monolingual emphasis in a world of scholarship scares me; particularly so as I did my Graduate Theological work in Italian in bella Roma. Perhaps, even more importantly, this is March. Yes, that means St. Patrick’s Day and the stirring up of memories. Why was my grandfather’s Irish language taken from him by the colonizing British government? I never heard this intelligent powerhouse engineer and chauffeur speak Irish—his first language. He could read it, but he would do so only privately and secretly—even in Yonkers, NY.
Moving back to Hostos, is it really a surprise that students do not know whom Hostos is? What college applicant really cares about the history of their school of choice—or the one to which the computer has decided to send them?
So I became academic and went to my mind.
I asked myself: “Why not respond to this wound—and lack of knowledge—by study?”
I have done that often in my own life.
This surge to the mind has brought me into educational ministry again and again, believing that the mind is what sets us apart as humans. Beside, I know of no other way to help the poor but education; I hope that there are other routes out of poverty, but I have found none like education to produce free human persons with their dignity intact. I accept my ignorance in knowing more efficient ways. I also teach literature to incarcerated women in Taconic State Prison. I suppose that is another bitterly, sad route for the poor.
I assigned a research paper on Hostos to all students in two sections in Humanities
100. I do not do that anymore; instead, I make it optional in the list for oral class presentations. Imagine reading all those papers on what passes as a term paper these days on the same character! Dante’s Inferno had nothing on that!
No matter how meaningful the revolutionary philosopher is, it is a drag to read mostly the same material time and time again.
The students were to answer two questions for a page apiece.
A- Who was Hostos?
B- What does he say to an urban student like you in the twenty-first century?
What I found fascinating was that there were very few references to his upper-middle economic class at birth—or even his apparently stable marriage. The students seem to think that his ideas came from the air; they were weak in understanding the impact of cultures and colonialism from Europe and the United States that were affecting Latin America and Spain at that time–and ours?
Who is able to critique colonialism and its after-effects, which are so often internalized?
Influenced by the North American myth of progress and that we all are one big, happy multi-cultural society, it is difficult to critique the United States (eg. “It was good that Hostos established colleges which taught women to be engineers. However, that was “ back in the day… All has changed now”).
Hostos naturally had his adorers. I would surmise that they were often the newer immigrant students—the wide-eyed ones who wanted to learn all they could in our very friendly, beautiful, clean college—better than any in their old country. They could sense Hostos’ real passion for education.
The Density of Hostos in Thought, Style, and Vocabulary
Hostos is not easy. As some student put it in his pithy Bronx wisdom: “I couldn’t figure out whether he was a psychologist, a philosopher, or some kind of lousy politician!”
The fact that many of our students do not see politics as a worthy enterprise has always scared me—and frightens me for the future.
His style is not user-friendly. A professor and Hostos aficionado graciously gave me the manuscript on Hostos’ Essay on Hamlet, a masterful essay filled with new insights.
Hostos is brilliant, and his amazing 47 page reflections on Hamlet refreshed my love of Shakespeare and literature, my first degree. However, I looked with enthusiasm for anything that would touch the mind in the student cafeteria. After two hours of trying to figure out what the genius really meant, Hamlet remains a mystery—not a fault of either Hostos or Shakespeare.
Windows of Access and Esperanza (Hope)
The Library staff was really gracious, friendly, and helpful. Sad to say, this seemed like the first trip of some of our students to the library. Some students, though, actually went further in research than the minimal two articles outside of Winkipedia!
I found Vimeo/Hostos. Some of the students and I saw a fine black-and-white eleven minute video on Hostos. I did run into the surprising comment from some students that “It’s in Spanish!” (but This is Hostos),
From my media background at the New School for Social Research, I do believe that “One picture is worth more than 1,000 words.” There is a great picture of a sculpture of Hostos in a plaza in San Juan, Puerto Rico. As we know, this native son chose to be buried in the Dominican Republic. He is waiting—still—for the freedom of Puerto Rico from the United States. It will be a long wait. (Treat yourself—or cf!-Www. Hostos sculpture/San Juan).
In the interest of true disclosure, the original picture that I saw was taken by a retired, Spanish-speaking NY diocesan priest. He was taking a vacation with the Redemptorist Fathers, who have served in Puerto Rico for years.
There it is . . . a most unusual sculpture. Hostos seems to be wide -eyed and playing with either children (or birds) on his arms pointing to the air. This lively statue is not the typical, dusty weather-beaten sculpture; instead, it is open, confusing, enthralling, and, yes, reflecting the possibilities in la vida-life itself.
Last Observation: The Piano is Great!
Somehow, students in this Spring term often did not “Look up!” They did not see our semi-famous painting or mosaic?! Yes—the one that says “Enseñar El Pueblo Para Pensar…Teach the People to Think!” However, they do see and write well about the words of Hostos, posted by the well-used piano, on the importance of music. Perhaps, Greek philosophers wake up as they hear the music, and smile knowingly to their intellectually probing cousin, Eugenio María de Hostos.
What was it that Aristotle said—more or less? “If I learn your music, I will rock your city.”
As we so often state, the education of immigrants and first-generation students in college involves much more than the bottom line.
Entonces let the music and wisdom of Eugenio Maria de Hostos play on!