The Power of Metaphor

Abstract

Friday, May 20, Champaign, IL. It’s my first time back to the place I called home for the past nine years. Weird . . . I’m a professor now. Or at least, I have a job at UMass that says so. Just the driving from Chicago to Champaign-Urbana was special. My partner Dani and I could recollect our first drive almost ten years ago. How we could not speak the language or even read the traffic signs. The anxiety of the first road toll where we had no idea how much it would cost . . . then getting lost and not being able to communicate with the state police. We laughed, and quite at the same time our eyes went together to the backseats to look at our children. It’s different now. So, it’s Friday morning and I am walking from the hotel to the English building at U of I. My family is still asleep in our room. To add to this emotional week, I am going to see a panel in metaphor with two special friends. Hari, who happens to be my first grad student and Nelson, a friend from my teens in my hometown Uberlandia, who happens to be a sociology professor in Brazil. I have not seen Nelson since my wedding day ten years ago. It was just so fitting that we meet each other here in Champaign. Last night, when I talked to them about this panel I said it is a must see event. Nelson and Hari were both excited about it. The event provides both of them the opportunity to see in person some of the authors they have read. Walking now, I want them to experience not only the theoretical richness these kinds of meetings present but also, the vibes, the sense of belonging to a greater movement . . . that have made QI so important to me during these past years. I remember telling Hari and Nelson, that this is the kind of event that as soon as you are out of the room you want to write . . . that you feel floated by Paulo Freire’s hope not only that change is possible but also, it is happening right now . . . that is not the “usual” performance you see by top scholars but a performance of generosity where bodies get together to promote a pedagogy of hope, care, and love. I get a little late in the room. I sit behind the presenters. The classroom is full. I move my body until I find a place from where I can see both Hari and Nelson. I am