¡Jálame! Give me a ride!

In Spanish, the direct translation of Jálame is "pull me" or "pull me up". In Peru, if someone yells it at you as you drive by, they're asking for a ride and, from what I understand, passing a person without stopping is a heartless thing to do.

My travelling companion @JenMaryMcKenzie and I were driving with our host teacher, Dennys, through the dusty Moqugua (Peru) country side, when he heard the phrase shouted at us. He pulled over the car before I knew what had happened.

And, just like that,

my day got so much brighter.

This beautiful woman was headed from the Dia del Compesino (Day of the Farmer) celebration to her farm. Meeting her was instrumental in helping me understand that communication involves so much more than talking.

In the days since, I've thought about that simple plea. ¡Jálame! Pull me up!

It was so easy to stop for this woman. The moment I saw her bright dress and felt her energy, I knew that I was getting the better end of this transaction. We were both delighted and grateful to share the backseat. The experience embodied the Education for Sustainability idea that "We are all in this together."

But, what about those times when the cry isn't joyful? There have been times in my life when I have needed someone to pull (or gently shove) me upward when I've felt stuck. In the most painful moments, I can't even make the request aloud. I am describing raw vulnerability.

As humans, what is our responsibility to be present for others in this way? Teaching has called me to be open to students when they are most vulnerable. Sometimes, the lift or connection is easy to make. This is especially true for the kids with whom I already have a relationship. It may involve catching the look of frustration or posture change that comes when a student is trying a new skill. Intervention at that moment can make the difference between pushing through or quitting all together.

At times, though, "Pull me up" may take the form of an angry or even violent outburst. For a couple of years, I used a dented metal trashcan that had been kicked across the room by a frustrated girl who'd just had a negative interaction with an adult. It was the end of the day. She'd had enough. In that moment, she felt like all the world had to offer her was a brick wall. All she knew to do was to keep running head-first up against it.

I chose to be the soft landing and to do the one thing that can be hardest in a moment like this.

I sat down and listened to her.