Where Did the Mummy's Eyes Go?
By Erica Koplove
As we walk through Egypt, I glance at the mummies. I have an uneasy feeling in my stomach. The thought crosses my mind— where did the mummy’s eyes go? These past few weeks, I have given more thought to my eyes and our sense of sight than ever before. Throughout the first week of our Summer Institute, my thoughts around eyesight took on a very literal meaning. My eyes were in pain! They were burning, and tears were running constantly down my face. They were red, as if I had been crying for days, and they closed involuntarily when I was in bright light. Finally, I went to the eye doctor. She shined her light in both of my eyes and looked closely. “Something is covering the surfaces of both of your corneas. Is it making your vision blurry? Do you have any blind spots?” I thought about her question. “I don’t know,” I told her.
Then she walked over to her desk, pulled out her textbook and tried to make a diagnosis. Over the next few days, as I routinely squeezed eye drops into my eyes, I found that my thoughts constantly returned to the question, “Do you have any blind spots?”
As we sat in Institute one morning discussing how the concepts of race, gender, and culture inform our practice as educators, I found that the idea of blindness began to take on an entirely different meaning. My eye doctor’s question echoed in my ears. “Do you have any blind spots?” As I reflected on our conversations and delved deeper into my own thoughts and newly forming beliefs surrounding race, gender, and culture in the
classroom, I knew my answer to the doctor’s question: “I absolutely have blind spots.”
We all do. Having blind spots is nothing to be ashamed of. The way in which each of us grows up, our backgrounds, and our experiences form the lens through which we view the world. We may seem ignorant of the experiences of others, not because we don’t care, but simply because the way in which our world developed was different. Blind spots only become shameful when we do not try or care enough to eradicate them. Institute has taught me that one of the main ways in which we can work to eliminate our blind spots is through one of our other senses—listening. I will never be able to physically see the world through the lens of another, but the way in which I can get closest is by listening to them. Not just hearing them, but actively processing their words and experiences in order to eliminate my own blind spots.
As I wrap up the treatment for my eyes, my doctor reminds me that the condition can always come back. She says that it is something that I am always going to have to look out for. Similarly, blind spots are always going to be present in the way in which I see the world and my classroom. It is something that I am always going to have to “look out” for. Constant reflection and entering conversations with others is one of the ways in which I can begin to do this. Perhaps, this is why my stomach became uneasy when I saw the mummies. Their eyes have been removed. Their sight is lost forever….but mine is not.
Erica Koplove is kindergarten teacher at the Penn Alexander School. Erica joined the Philadelphia Writing Project in 2015 attending the Invitational Summer Institute.