THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Saturday, October 14, 1995 TAG: 9510140284
SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B1 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Column
SOURCE: Charlise Lyles
LENGTH: Medium: 78 lines
The little, smiling man with the twinkly eyes waved bye-bye as his image vanished into static.
The signal beaming to the new satellite dish at Norfolk Academy blinked off, and Archbishop Desmond Tutu of South Africa was gone.
Left behind was a holy hush that fell over the gym and a sense of goodness so real it wet your eyes.
``The most important thing that he said to me is that each of us is `God's viceroy' and because of that we need to be caring, compassionate individuals.'' Math teacher Judy Voyer couldn't wait to share her impressions with Spanish instructor Rita Lupton and others.
During the whole thing, their eyes had fastened to the large screen as if Tutu were Aladdin, the Lion King or some other wonder. At times, they giggled and cooed at his whimsy and ticklishness.
Tutu's presence brought even a rough-talking, hard-arguing woman like me to gentleness. And you know that's not easy.
We need the Tutus of the world, those whose righteous struggles have forged virtue so pure that they make us unafraid to believe and look on the world as children again.
Beamed from Cape Town, 10,000 miles away, Tutu spoke to about 350 teachers, administrators and others Friday as the highlight of Norfolk Academy's four-day educational conference. He epitomized perfectly the theme: ``Respect, Resilience and Responsibility.''
His appearance also marked the beginning of the academy's student exchange program with South Africa.
``Our struggle is not so much one for civil rights as it is for basic human rights,'' said the 1984 Nobel Peace Prize winner. ``We are trying to cultivate a culture of human rights in this country.''
We were kids on a playground and he was a great, great old grandfather, his warm ways candy to make us listen to his wisdom.
The wisdom of his victorious nonviolent struggle against South Africa's legal racial segregation, of his insights on education and the business of being truly human.
Teacher Chris Nelson asked all our questions for us.
What should we teach in school?
``One of the most significant things that you can do in a school is teaching children not what to think, but how to think, to cultivate critical, questioning minds that always ask the awkward question, `But why?' '' Tutu said.
``We in this country of South Africa have suffered a great deal because we've not taught children to have critical minds, but to be conforming, not to rock the boat.''
But being human, Tutu said, is all about rocking the boat.
What is the role of religion and faith in schools?
``I would hope so very much that people would begin to understand that theology is one of the most critical disciplines that we have. This helps us to realize that when God created us, God created us for togetherness. . . . A self-sufficient human being is a contradiction in terms. God gave gifts to you that he didn't give to me, as if to say, `Voila! I need you to make up for what is lacking in me.' ''
He said that teaching religion should help us recognize that ``our worth is intrinsic to who we are, which has nothing to do with status, whether rich or poor, beautiful or ugly, black or white.''
Hate, he said, is not a ``political decision.'' Religious duty ought to compel us to stand up against injustice.
And when asked about his own resilience, Tutu talked about prayer as a practical thing.
``To be Christian is to know that you belong to a family that is spread over the face of the Earth, to know that you're never alone, that there is prayer for you,'' he said.
Once, a nun who lived in the woods of California told Tutu that her day began at 2 a.m. with prayers for him. ``And I said, `Hey, here I am being prayed for in the woods of California at 2 a.m in the morning. What chance does the government of South Africa have?' '' by CNB