Hope is a funny word. I have been thinking about hope. Each day as I teach in Kenya I want my students to dare to hope, to inspire confidence in students as they encounter and embrace new thoughts, new ideas, and new ways of working. The path for hope to funnel into confidence is through engagement.
Hope can be fragile. Hope can be crushed. Can one be an artist without hope? You can feel hope deep inside, it is real, and it lifts and gives you power to dare to want. I hope I get it. I hope I succeed. Hope is powerful and hope is dangerous. What about false hope?
Hopes that are met with success engender confidence. With confidence, hope becomes stronger, more daring, loose and powerful. I find hope attractive. Hopelessness is unattractive.
Artists must engage with the world, with each other, and with themselves. A lack of engagement is always the death of artistry.
Merriam Webster defines the verb to hope as:
to want something to happen or be true and think that it could happen or be true
to cherish a desire with anticipation
to desire with expectation of obtainment
to expect with confidence
I feel nervousness every time I enter Harambee Hall to teach. Is my nervousness hope? It is something I feel, and not just something I think. Hope is a feeling; to live is to hope.
Do I feel nervousness still as a teacher because I carry hope in my heart when I enter the room? I hope so. If I am confident in my engagement with students I can give them more than hope.
I will expect with confidence. I will give power to create.