I mean, education *is* about hope. That's not difficult to believe. Education lifts people out of poverty. Education creates the middle class that is so dominant here in Norway and so threatened in my home country.
Education moves societies forward. We need more education; better education. We need it to have highly skilled professionals who can improve the standard of living in our country and our world.
When I think like that, I can convince myself that education does create hope - hope for individuals, dreams for their families, the promise of betterment for society.
But yesterday morning as I left a breakfast event at HiOA, which was the conclusion of the all-night American Election Party we had hosted, I couldn't find it. I couldn't find hope or dreams. I had just witnessed the ambassador of the United States making a speech in which he felt it necessary to reassure those present that good relations between the United States and Norway would continue. I had just heard a prominent American guest say privately to me, You're lucky; you have a permanent job here.
This isn't the language of business as usual. It isn't the language of ja, ja, sånn går nu dagan. Det her skal gå bra. It's actually the language of deep concern, and maybe even fear.
As I left that breakfast meeting, I went down the stairs from our grand ballroom at HiOA, which is in a building that houses our Fakultet for lærerutdanning og internasjonale studier, and I walked towards the door out to the heart of our campus.
On my way out, I met dozens of students on their way in, headed to the first class of the day. A flock of 20-year olds who have made the choice to train themselves to become teachers. Think of the hope that is behind such a choice. Teachers. For schoolkids. Shaping the future. Today's 1- and 2-year olds are go
