Simon and Garfunkel "The Dangling Conversation"

I choose a Simon and Garfunkel song for a few reason. One, because they write lyrics of relevancy and of emotional responsiveness. Two, because their folky, melodic sounds I feel coincide with Freire's honest nature. Three, I find their lyrics to be extremely interesting for interpretations. The lyrics written here I feel image the educators who do not critically talk about their students whether their black, white, poor, etc. Some important issues are raised but not enough. There is an indifference between these educators and the ones who do care a lot about the sensitive, racy issues. There is little encouragement to make these indifferences better.

"A role that teachers can take is to acknowledge the unfair "discourse-stacking" that our society engages in. They can discuss openly the injustices of allowing certain people to succeed, based not upon merit but upon which family they were born into, upon which discourse they had access to as children. The student, of course, already know this, but the open acknowledgment of it in the very institution that facilitates the sorting process is liberating in itself. In short, teachers must allow discussions of oppression to become a part of language and literature instruction."
Lisa Delprit, Other People's Children: Cultural Conflict in the Classroom

--

It's a still life water color,
Of a now late afternoon,
As the sun shines through the curtained lace
And shadows wash the room.
And we sit and drink our coffee
Couched in our indifference,
Like shells upon the shore
You can hear the ocean roar
In the dangling conversation
And the superficial sighs,
The borders of our lives.

And you read your Emily Dickinson,
And I my Robert Frost,
And we note our place with bookmarkers
That measure what we've lost.
Like a poem poorly written
We are verses out of rhythm,
Couplets out of rhyme,
In syncopated time
Lost in the dangling conversation
And the superficial sighs,
Are the borders of our lives.

Yes, we speak of things that matter,
With words that must be said,
"Can analysis be worthwhile?"
"Is the theater really dead?"
And how the room is softly faded
And I only kiss your shadow,
I cannot feel your hand,
You're a stranger now unto me
Lost in the dangling conversation.
And the superficial sighs,
In the borders of our lives.