Andrea Elliott (New York Times, "A Muslim leader in Brooklyn, reconciling 2 worlds") reports at length on an immigrant imam who attempts to reconcile Islamic tradition with the American lifestyle, to answer questions never asked in Egypt, quesions such as:

A teenage girl wants to know: Is it halal, or lawful, to eat a Big Mac? Can alcohol be served, a waiter wonders, if it is prohibited by the Koran? Is it wrong to take out a mortgage, young Muslim professionals ask, when Islam frowns upon monetary interest?

In attempting to answer the never-ending flow of questions, he suffered a physical breakdown, but he also has become a flexible thinker:

"America transformed me from a person of rigidity to flexibility," said Mr. Shata, speaking through an Arabic translator. "I went from a country where a sheik would speak and the people listened to one where the sheik talks and the people talk back."

He has also become creative in resolving his congregant's problems. As he says,

"Here you don't know what will solve a problem," he said. "It's about looking for a key."

I think we can learn from him. In education, we often believe we know what will solve a problem, that we must stick to our "principles," as in the case of adherents of bilingual education and English immersion. But as noticed in earlier postings, such "sticking" can blind us to potential keys that fit local conditions.

Part of his ability to begin to see was moving to a foreign land in which the new land clearly contradicted the old ways, a land in which the old ways obviously did not apply. I wonder how we can create our classrooms and schools so that they become strange to us, contradicting our previous understandings, facilitating our seeing anew.

Another part was his compassion for his congregants. When he fainted during the service, he had to stay in the hospital for a week. Ali Gheith, the counselor who treated him, "called it 'compassion fatigue,' an ailment that commonly affects disaster-relief workers." Although it was recommended that he distance himself emotionally from his congregants, the imam replied,

"I did not permit these problems to enter my heart," said Mr. Shata, "nor can I permit them to leave."

Compassion for students can help us see past our traditional theories of learning to the living complexities of human beings in our classrooms.