i just finished reading Jonathan Kozol's Savage Inequalities: Children in America's Schools. it is a deeply powerful work. powerful in the sense of its ability to penetrate directly into the heart of an issue and make me want to put the brakes on everything else and take up the cause for change.
but also deeply powerful in its ability to expose how difficult creating change will be.
the essence of Kozol's book is this: America's public education system, while designed to provide a measure of equality to children across the nation (particularly since the era of school desegregation), serves primarily the upper- and middle-classes at the expense of those with less financial resources. this is compounded by a significant racial divide across economic class, at least in the urban and suburban school district that are Kozol's primary focus. students in the wealthier urban and suburban districts are provided with resources many times over the meager opportunities poorer students get. surprised? perhaps you're not. but the extent to which this occurs shocked me to the core of my being. schools where kids have class in closets, schools without textbooks, schools where administrators and teachers are thankful when kids drop out because it's the only way they have enough space for their students...this is in the united states - - in the land of opportunity, the land with "liberty and justice for all..."
the most gut-wrenching aspect of reading the book, at least for me, was the realization that this situation is directly tied to our capitalist economy. school districts get money from property taxes, and, though they're not necessarily higher as a percentage of income, the taxes provide more money on an absolute level in wealthier districts because property is worth more. because property is worth more, and because schools are better, these districts draw in people/families with larger incomes - reinforcing the cycle. what this means is that students coming from poorer families are at a severe disadvantage: they attend public schools in which much less money is invested, which means they receive a much poorer education and are often unable to compete with students from wealthier districts. the extent of their disadvantage is so severe as to make dropping out a more attractive option than graduating - even teachers and principals acknowledge this. students aren't given the opportunity to gain the skills they need to compete with their fellow students - so few graduate, fewer start and even fewer finish college...and the cycle continues through the next generation.
as i said before, reading the book makes me want to go out and do something to change the system. the problem is, changing the system is just that - it's not something that can be done through a limited intervention. sure, i can open up a school for underpriveleged kids or go teach in an urban school district (east st. louis, the south bronx, chicago, you name it...), but how many people can i possibly reach? this requires systemic change. the kind that occurs through federal legislation or supreme court decisions. the kind that creates protests, lobby groups, and divides the nation.
plus, the sort of systemic change that is neccessary goes against the value system of much of this nation. it will require those with money to put it into improving the lives of others - by investing in poorer school districts, perhaps at the expense of the luxuries their own children receive. Kozol tries to make the case that it isn't a "win-lose" situation - that equality could mean better schools for everyone, rather than worse - but at the end of the day, even the allmighty USA is a country with limited resources. and this, intuitively, is hard for us to digest. this is understandable: why shouldn't we want our kids to get the best education possible? and, if we can afford to, we do the best we can to make sure they do - either by living in districts with well-regarded schools, or by sending them to charter schools or giving them extra-curricular opportunities that make up for deficiencies elsewhere in the educational system. it's hard to say, "ok, i'll invest in poorer school districts and not give my kid the opportunity that he or she could have otherwise." sure, there are those who are idealistic enough, committed enough, risk-takers enough to do so. but they are few and far between.
so what's the answer? no child left behind? i think not - certainly not in its current permutation, at least. head start? perhaps, though it's not enough. socialism? not in this country - though it seems that it is what might be required: systemic change, not just in education, but in the way we view our country's resources as a whole.
perhaps someone else has thoughts on this. i'm happy to hear them...
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Friday, September 01, 2006
education once again...or rather, the lack of it
forgive me for yet another diatribe on the necessity of educating people for social awareness. unfortunately for you readers, as long as what seems to be the extreme lack of social awareness exists, it will likely continue to arise as a subject of my posts. don't say you weren't warned...
the subject of this post comes from this article, and this video that triggered it: former virginia governer and current senator george allen campaigning in the southwest region of the state [the tri-state area: va-ky-tn] and regaling attendees of his event with an off-the-cuff racial slur [designed to amuse? designed to build support? designed for both? neither? who knows. i do know he's since tried to back-pedal his way out of the hot water his comment caused...]
i learned about allen's none-too-admirable words right around the same time as reading an excellent essay on the importance of peace education by dale snauwaert, a professor of education at the university of toledo. actually, the essay had to do with the ethics of peace and the inherent human dignity that should be accorded to each individual on this planet. a concept allen could stand to think about some, no? the idea that every one of us is responsible for respecting and preserving the dignity of the rest of our fellow humans...it's a big responsibility, to be sure. but, a fundamental one, and, more importantly, one that without a doubt should be espoused by an elected official of the united states government, representing nearly 8 million people.
in any case, one of the things that struck me about allen's comment was where he was located geographically when it was made: in a rural area near the southwestern virginia border. i don't know a whole lot about that particular part of the state, but i'm pretty confident that senator allen wasn't speaking in a large, metropolitan region at the time. why do i say this? because those large metropolitan regions tend to be areas with the greatest population diversity, as well as with well-known, long-standing organizations pushing for "liberal" causes such as human rights, conversation, and, yes, peace. [i'm not trying to say that those causes aren't championed elsewhere; still, proponents of these ideals, in terms of sheer numbers, are far greater in metropolitan areas and, i suppose, in some small, even rural, college towns]. in any case, i find it difficult to believe that allen would have dared make a comment like the one he did in a meeting hall filled with virginians of a wide variety of backgrounds. he would have been attacked on the spot, both by his constitutents and by grassroots organizations.
what's the connection between all of this and snauwaert's article? it is this: there is much, much, much to be done to move from the current state of the globe to one in which inherent human dignity is respected as it must be. to make that shift requires educating future generations. thus the need for education promoting respect for human dignity and tolerance for difference is dire. it is dire on a global scale, but closer to home - it is dire all over the united states, most significantly so in those areas with little diversity and with the greatest social conservatism.
still, there is a tendency for the greatest champions of this cause to remain in precisely those diverse, open-minded cities/towns/regions where social justice work is already being relentlessly pursued. sure, it's great to be able to finish up a day of saving the world and be able to go out for a beer with fellow world-savers - in fact, with a whole slew of them, or a different group of do-gooders every night. but isn't it more important to try to work to address these issues in the areas where hate and intolerance are the most deep-seated? it's in these regions where the work is most needed, so that comments like the ones made by senator allen last month will be received with boos and hisses rather than with open laughter. it's also in these regions where the impact of work can be the greatest, and most inspirational.
hmm. i guess this post has turned into something of a call to arms. err...a call to disarmament?
the subject of this post comes from this article, and this video that triggered it: former virginia governer and current senator george allen campaigning in the southwest region of the state [the tri-state area: va-ky-tn] and regaling attendees of his event with an off-the-cuff racial slur [designed to amuse? designed to build support? designed for both? neither? who knows. i do know he's since tried to back-pedal his way out of the hot water his comment caused...]
i learned about allen's none-too-admirable words right around the same time as reading an excellent essay on the importance of peace education by dale snauwaert, a professor of education at the university of toledo. actually, the essay had to do with the ethics of peace and the inherent human dignity that should be accorded to each individual on this planet. a concept allen could stand to think about some, no? the idea that every one of us is responsible for respecting and preserving the dignity of the rest of our fellow humans...it's a big responsibility, to be sure. but, a fundamental one, and, more importantly, one that without a doubt should be espoused by an elected official of the united states government, representing nearly 8 million people.
in any case, one of the things that struck me about allen's comment was where he was located geographically when it was made: in a rural area near the southwestern virginia border. i don't know a whole lot about that particular part of the state, but i'm pretty confident that senator allen wasn't speaking in a large, metropolitan region at the time. why do i say this? because those large metropolitan regions tend to be areas with the greatest population diversity, as well as with well-known, long-standing organizations pushing for "liberal" causes such as human rights, conversation, and, yes, peace. [i'm not trying to say that those causes aren't championed elsewhere; still, proponents of these ideals, in terms of sheer numbers, are far greater in metropolitan areas and, i suppose, in some small, even rural, college towns]. in any case, i find it difficult to believe that allen would have dared make a comment like the one he did in a meeting hall filled with virginians of a wide variety of backgrounds. he would have been attacked on the spot, both by his constitutents and by grassroots organizations.
what's the connection between all of this and snauwaert's article? it is this: there is much, much, much to be done to move from the current state of the globe to one in which inherent human dignity is respected as it must be. to make that shift requires educating future generations. thus the need for education promoting respect for human dignity and tolerance for difference is dire. it is dire on a global scale, but closer to home - it is dire all over the united states, most significantly so in those areas with little diversity and with the greatest social conservatism.
still, there is a tendency for the greatest champions of this cause to remain in precisely those diverse, open-minded cities/towns/regions where social justice work is already being relentlessly pursued. sure, it's great to be able to finish up a day of saving the world and be able to go out for a beer with fellow world-savers - in fact, with a whole slew of them, or a different group of do-gooders every night. but isn't it more important to try to work to address these issues in the areas where hate and intolerance are the most deep-seated? it's in these regions where the work is most needed, so that comments like the ones made by senator allen last month will be received with boos and hisses rather than with open laughter. it's also in these regions where the impact of work can be the greatest, and most inspirational.
hmm. i guess this post has turned into something of a call to arms. err...a call to disarmament?
Thursday, August 17, 2006
let's communicate about communicating
a little over a month ago, i received a gift from a very close friend of someone very close to me: a small pin, shaped like a dove, on which was engraved the biological symbol of females. the pin was made by a group of israeli and palestinian women working together; it symbolized hope: for peace, cooperation and unity among the women of the middle east. the timing of this gift was, if anything, symbolic, too: i received it just a few days after the eruption of violence between israel and lebanon.
i've worn it every day since.
now, you might be thinking, this is a blog about the situation in the middle east. well, it could have easily turned into that. but, this is actually a blog about communication. see, that pin - the small, white dove, given to me by a woman i've never met, but whose passions and committment (from all i've been told) stand firmer than mine might ever - symbolizes something. it symbolizes my (and her) beliefs, passions, convictions. without words.
i was thinking about this the other day when someone made a comment about my political beliefs, referring to the pin i was wearing. they'd made an incorrect assumption, which got me to thinking about the difference between what we communicate externally to the world, and what internally we're trying to communicate - often two very different things.
and, which led me to thinking about the larger issue of communication, in personal, professional, and broader interacting-with-society spheres. with that pin, i was trying to say something without words. perhaps i succeeded; clearly in one case i did not. but still, i made a statement: one which, if followed by some discussion, could lead to some depth and meaning.
the thing is, it hasn't. people look at that pin and make assumptions, or, if they're actually interested, ask a question or two and then move on. i could take offense to this, but frankly, it's not worth it. and, i don't actually think it's a reflection on me. i think, rather, that it's the peculiar form of ADD that seems to have gripped the world at large: an inability to focus, discuss, or communicate in depth.
the modern wonders of technology are great - we can order products from halfway around the globe at 11PM in our pyjamas; we are always 'up to date' on the news; we can speak with friends across the country or the continent - or on different continents - with the clarity of a local phone call.
yet despite all of this - in our society it seems as though we're barely communicating at all these days. newscasts are mere soundbytes; newspapers publish stories with catchy headlines, but with little substance; conversations between people, although all the more frequent given the advent of cellphones, email and instant messaging (probably the worst culprit...), rather than being discussions of interesting issues, turn into quick check-ins, questions, and the like. discussions of depth, of interest, people who read books: these all seem to be the exception, rather than the norm.
frankly, i find it pretty depressing, although i certainly subscribe to modern communication culture myself often enough.
but can we find a way to change this? more conversations around the coffee table or at the bar, maybe? less time logged into the internet? time spent actively reading articles and books in depth rather than superficial newsclips?
i'll do it...who's joining me?
i've worn it every day since.
now, you might be thinking, this is a blog about the situation in the middle east. well, it could have easily turned into that. but, this is actually a blog about communication. see, that pin - the small, white dove, given to me by a woman i've never met, but whose passions and committment (from all i've been told) stand firmer than mine might ever - symbolizes something. it symbolizes my (and her) beliefs, passions, convictions. without words.
i was thinking about this the other day when someone made a comment about my political beliefs, referring to the pin i was wearing. they'd made an incorrect assumption, which got me to thinking about the difference between what we communicate externally to the world, and what internally we're trying to communicate - often two very different things.
and, which led me to thinking about the larger issue of communication, in personal, professional, and broader interacting-with-society spheres. with that pin, i was trying to say something without words. perhaps i succeeded; clearly in one case i did not. but still, i made a statement: one which, if followed by some discussion, could lead to some depth and meaning.
the thing is, it hasn't. people look at that pin and make assumptions, or, if they're actually interested, ask a question or two and then move on. i could take offense to this, but frankly, it's not worth it. and, i don't actually think it's a reflection on me. i think, rather, that it's the peculiar form of ADD that seems to have gripped the world at large: an inability to focus, discuss, or communicate in depth.
the modern wonders of technology are great - we can order products from halfway around the globe at 11PM in our pyjamas; we are always 'up to date' on the news; we can speak with friends across the country or the continent - or on different continents - with the clarity of a local phone call.
yet despite all of this - in our society it seems as though we're barely communicating at all these days. newscasts are mere soundbytes; newspapers publish stories with catchy headlines, but with little substance; conversations between people, although all the more frequent given the advent of cellphones, email and instant messaging (probably the worst culprit...), rather than being discussions of interesting issues, turn into quick check-ins, questions, and the like. discussions of depth, of interest, people who read books: these all seem to be the exception, rather than the norm.
frankly, i find it pretty depressing, although i certainly subscribe to modern communication culture myself often enough.
but can we find a way to change this? more conversations around the coffee table or at the bar, maybe? less time logged into the internet? time spent actively reading articles and books in depth rather than superficial newsclips?
i'll do it...who's joining me?
Sunday, June 04, 2006
where did the dollar really go?
i gave a woman next to the metro a dollar today. normally i don't do that, but for various reasons i was feeling particularly altruistic, so when i walked out of the metro and onto the street and she was standing there asking for 50 cents to get somewhere, it was hard for me to resist. coins i had not - so a dollar it was.
as i walked away, i turned to see if she had gone down into the metro system - the dollar i gave her was more than enough for her to catch a train to anywhere she needed to go. but she was standing there still, approaching others as they came out of the station, asking for more. and my heart just sank.
the reason i normally don't give money when asked in situations like that [on my commute, as i walk around the city, etc.] is because past experiences have taught me that what people request is not truly what they want. "i need 50 cents to get to bethesda" is fine; using the money otherwise is just, well, depressing. to me, that is - as the giver. i'm not sure what drove me to feel that today might be different, in all honesty.
but in any case, this small case of 'abusing aid' led me to think about the ever-growing concentric circles in which this happens. we give aid to foreign governments: how do we know, initially, who will use that money efficiently for the good of the nation, and who will siphon off large chunks for personal gain? we give criminals a second chance: how can we tell who will remain law-abiding, and who will return to a life of crime?
some argue that in order to make up for the dishonesty of some, leniency should be kept from all. but is that fair? are all individuals/organizations/governments corrupt? of course not. but i know that at a certain point, cynicism builds up - - hence my tendency to avoid giving money to strangers asking for subway fare - and likewise, i suppose, reluctance for taxpayers to subsidize international [and even domestic] aid.
so what's the solution? do we subject people/organizations/countries to ever more stringent rules and tests? do we give up on them altogether, letting the strongest survive while others fall by the wayside? do we give aid to all, hoping that most are honest and that feeling good about those who are will be enough to mitigate the immense feelings of disappointment over those who are not?
i know, countless volumes have probably been written on this. but in truth? i just want to know what to do when someone asks me for money on the metro. i hate the fact that i'm such a cynic. and yet, life seems to indicate that without the cynicism creating a thick skin, all i'm really doing is setting myself up for disappointment.
as i walked away, i turned to see if she had gone down into the metro system - the dollar i gave her was more than enough for her to catch a train to anywhere she needed to go. but she was standing there still, approaching others as they came out of the station, asking for more. and my heart just sank.
the reason i normally don't give money when asked in situations like that [on my commute, as i walk around the city, etc.] is because past experiences have taught me that what people request is not truly what they want. "i need 50 cents to get to bethesda" is fine; using the money otherwise is just, well, depressing. to me, that is - as the giver. i'm not sure what drove me to feel that today might be different, in all honesty.
but in any case, this small case of 'abusing aid' led me to think about the ever-growing concentric circles in which this happens. we give aid to foreign governments: how do we know, initially, who will use that money efficiently for the good of the nation, and who will siphon off large chunks for personal gain? we give criminals a second chance: how can we tell who will remain law-abiding, and who will return to a life of crime?
some argue that in order to make up for the dishonesty of some, leniency should be kept from all. but is that fair? are all individuals/organizations/governments corrupt? of course not. but i know that at a certain point, cynicism builds up - - hence my tendency to avoid giving money to strangers asking for subway fare - and likewise, i suppose, reluctance for taxpayers to subsidize international [and even domestic] aid.
so what's the solution? do we subject people/organizations/countries to ever more stringent rules and tests? do we give up on them altogether, letting the strongest survive while others fall by the wayside? do we give aid to all, hoping that most are honest and that feeling good about those who are will be enough to mitigate the immense feelings of disappointment over those who are not?
i know, countless volumes have probably been written on this. but in truth? i just want to know what to do when someone asks me for money on the metro. i hate the fact that i'm such a cynic. and yet, life seems to indicate that without the cynicism creating a thick skin, all i'm really doing is setting myself up for disappointment.
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
appreciating what we've got...
i had a very interesting conversation yesterday about appreciating higher education. my conversation partner, a professor at a state university, was complaining about his students not studying for exams - - a complaint that set me off on a rant about students not taking advantage of the opportunities they are given.
the trend these days seems to be for college kids to do as little as they can to get by. this is something i simply don't understand: higher education is not a legal obligation anywhere in the united states. subsequently, it's also not free anywhere in the united states. hence, students - or their parents, at least - are paying dearly for the education universities give.
and yet, many students are happy to do as little as possible to get by academically, taking short-cuts, making excuses, and generally putting their social lives at the center of their university education.
now, i'm not discounting the importance of a social life - in fact, these days social networking is crucial in many respects [just think of our president: several of his key advisors and appointees are old college buddies]. still, the primary purpose of universities is academic. students are given the opportunity to focus in-depth on subjects that interest them, learn from experts in the field, and test out new ideas.
so why the disinterest? has our culture really become one in which getting ahead with as little work as possible and remaining mediocre is valued above hard work and excellence? are we really willing to settle so quickly and easily for 'just OK'?
perhaps that question need not be asked...
the trend these days seems to be for college kids to do as little as they can to get by. this is something i simply don't understand: higher education is not a legal obligation anywhere in the united states. subsequently, it's also not free anywhere in the united states. hence, students - or their parents, at least - are paying dearly for the education universities give.
and yet, many students are happy to do as little as possible to get by academically, taking short-cuts, making excuses, and generally putting their social lives at the center of their university education.
now, i'm not discounting the importance of a social life - in fact, these days social networking is crucial in many respects [just think of our president: several of his key advisors and appointees are old college buddies]. still, the primary purpose of universities is academic. students are given the opportunity to focus in-depth on subjects that interest them, learn from experts in the field, and test out new ideas.
so why the disinterest? has our culture really become one in which getting ahead with as little work as possible and remaining mediocre is valued above hard work and excellence? are we really willing to settle so quickly and easily for 'just OK'?
perhaps that question need not be asked...
Friday, February 24, 2006
twins
i just finished reading this ny times article about putting twins together in the same classroom. not exactly international news, but i think it's actually quite an interesting issue - probably in no small part because i myself am a twin.
the article points to an educational system in the US that in the past generally prevented twins from being placed in the same classroom, citing the need to build individual identities and prevent competitiveness as well as minimize the potential of "de facto social cliques" forming. on the other hand, the article refers to current research indicating that separating twins - especially identical twins - at an early age may cause anxiety and emotional distress.
which argument is valid? i think both, to a certain degree. when my twin and i [fraternal, by the way, and different genders] were kids, the school system did its best to keep us separated. throughout elementary and middle school, we were always placed in different classes - to a degree. the school system had only one set of honors and music performance classes, and as a result we were always together for at least one or two class periods a day. by the time we got to high school and were 'tracked' into honors and advanced placement [AP] classes, we had nearly identical class schedules.
my family spent a year in jerusalem when we were in 9th grade, and we had to fight to be placed in the same class. here the considerations were a little bit different: as students without total comfort using hebrew as an academic language, and knowing nobody in the school, it was important to us to be able to support each other socially and academically.
so, were there any problems? in retrospect, i think there was some underlying competition and a sense of being too close for comfort at times. by the time we got to college [and we went to the same college, by the way] we both needed a whole lot of breathing room. and after college, we lived on different continents for nearly four years before coming back to the same country - and now city - and re-establishing a relationship as very good friends in addition to siblings.
still, i don't think that the time we did spend together in the classroom undermined our individuality or ability to interact socially with our peers. [twin, parents, what do you think?]
i don't think this is a black and white issue. clearly my own experience was not entirely good or bad [though mostly good, i think]. if it's not a black and white issue, though, it shouldn't be treated like one: instead of parents having to fight against a rigid system decrying the possibility of twin togetherness, it's important to keep the option open. in other words, some flexibility in the system is good.
the article points to an educational system in the US that in the past generally prevented twins from being placed in the same classroom, citing the need to build individual identities and prevent competitiveness as well as minimize the potential of "de facto social cliques" forming. on the other hand, the article refers to current research indicating that separating twins - especially identical twins - at an early age may cause anxiety and emotional distress.
which argument is valid? i think both, to a certain degree. when my twin and i [fraternal, by the way, and different genders] were kids, the school system did its best to keep us separated. throughout elementary and middle school, we were always placed in different classes - to a degree. the school system had only one set of honors and music performance classes, and as a result we were always together for at least one or two class periods a day. by the time we got to high school and were 'tracked' into honors and advanced placement [AP] classes, we had nearly identical class schedules.
my family spent a year in jerusalem when we were in 9th grade, and we had to fight to be placed in the same class. here the considerations were a little bit different: as students without total comfort using hebrew as an academic language, and knowing nobody in the school, it was important to us to be able to support each other socially and academically.
so, were there any problems? in retrospect, i think there was some underlying competition and a sense of being too close for comfort at times. by the time we got to college [and we went to the same college, by the way] we both needed a whole lot of breathing room. and after college, we lived on different continents for nearly four years before coming back to the same country - and now city - and re-establishing a relationship as very good friends in addition to siblings.
still, i don't think that the time we did spend together in the classroom undermined our individuality or ability to interact socially with our peers. [twin, parents, what do you think?]
i don't think this is a black and white issue. clearly my own experience was not entirely good or bad [though mostly good, i think]. if it's not a black and white issue, though, it shouldn't be treated like one: instead of parents having to fight against a rigid system decrying the possibility of twin togetherness, it's important to keep the option open. in other words, some flexibility in the system is good.
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
more thoughts on education...
my thought of the day has to do with striking a balance between education as a forum for facilitating creative expression and critical thinking, and education as a forum for imparting certain indisputable facts and elements. the american - and to some extent, european - system is lauded as one that creates thinking human beings: children grow into adults who have the capacity to learn for the sake of learning, who aren't forced through years of rote memorization work, whose creativity is encouraged and supported and guided [when there is money for it, that is. these days i'm not so sure it's the case]. in the international/development education field, we're constantly talking about 'child-centered learning,' about teacher training to help adults develop the skills to become good teachers. this is because in many places learning does occur simply through methods of rote memorization. i remember sitting in on an english class in mozambique and being absolutely shocked at the way it was being taught: repeated recitation of verb conjugation, with no opportunity to use that verb in context, to practice feeling the language or interacting in it [even with me there, a native english speaker asked to sit in on the class for just this reason].
so clearly we in america are ahead of the curve to some extent. but something i read yesterday made me re-think the focus of american education. this was a letter written by a well-educated public official: specifically, the governer of kentucky [this letter is not a public document - i saw it due to a connection who has a copy of it]. the content of the letter is secondary here: what really took me aback was how badly written it was. what this says to me is that while the american educational system may pride itself on producing adults capable of thinking for themselves, it is not producing adults capable of expressing themselves in writing in a clear, logical, grammatically-correct manner. sure, our president can hire a speechwriter - i'm sure governer fletcher can as well. but that does not hide the fact that as an elected official, serving as the voice of his constituents, the governer should know how to construct a well-structured paragraph!
in any case, this letter struck me as an example of where the american educational system has failed. so the question is: how can we strike the balance that will let us succeed in educating the next generation to be creative and critical while at the same time having enough of a well-founded understanding of the english language to express their creativity and criticism articulately?
thoughts?
so clearly we in america are ahead of the curve to some extent. but something i read yesterday made me re-think the focus of american education. this was a letter written by a well-educated public official: specifically, the governer of kentucky [this letter is not a public document - i saw it due to a connection who has a copy of it]. the content of the letter is secondary here: what really took me aback was how badly written it was. what this says to me is that while the american educational system may pride itself on producing adults capable of thinking for themselves, it is not producing adults capable of expressing themselves in writing in a clear, logical, grammatically-correct manner. sure, our president can hire a speechwriter - i'm sure governer fletcher can as well. but that does not hide the fact that as an elected official, serving as the voice of his constituents, the governer should know how to construct a well-structured paragraph!
in any case, this letter struck me as an example of where the american educational system has failed. so the question is: how can we strike the balance that will let us succeed in educating the next generation to be creative and critical while at the same time having enough of a well-founded understanding of the english language to express their creativity and criticism articulately?
thoughts?
Monday, February 06, 2006
so what's the story with education?
recently i've been reading howard zinn's a people's history of the united states, which was recommended to me after a discussion in which i claimed my interest in looking at the effects of education on creating, perpetuating, and perhaps transforming long-standing conflicts. one of the more interesting chapters i've read focuses on the attempted 'taming of the masses' after the civil war to facilitate government service of big business [not too different from current government policies, is it?] zinn discusses the various forms through which this 'taming' occurred: one of which, no surprise, is education. zinn writes that public education in the latter half of the 19th century was designed to teach obedience to the system - effectively creating a buffer protecting government and businesses from the rebellious working class.
the chapter has brought home a point that i think is actually epitomized by the very existence of this book. when i told a friend i was reading it, he responded to me:
"took me 2 attempts to read a people's history. i had to put it down at first: i hadn't been exposed to that history; it was too painful to read."
which is exactly the point zinn makes in and by the existence of his book: that history as taught, here in the united states as elsewhere, is controlled by policy-makers, politicians, special interest groups. we are taught from a young age to accept a certain version of history as "correct" and superior to versions taught by the losers, by minorities, by the less powerful. we're spoonfed dates and names of battles and wars that white european men won, but taught almost nothing about minority groups or women, except a passing acknowledgement to the 14th and 15th amendments and the suffrage movement.
the united states is not the only country in which this occurs. in fact, i would venture to say that the history curriculum we are taught in american schools probably does more to include 'unheard voices' than that of many other nations. not that it does nearly enough. but the point is, this brings me back to the issue of education perpetuating conflict. when students are given only one point of view and taught to view sub-groups in their society as superior, more civilized, and correct in previous actions - - this is the foundation upon which stereotypes and animosity are born. israeli and palestinian curricula are a prime example of this: for decades, civics curricula in both israel and the palestinian territories have promoted differing versions of the region's history which have created polarized attitudes on the part of israeli and palestinian students. no doubt, these monolithic versions of history have helped create generations of young people who know almost nothing of, yet hate, one another - thus helping perpetuate the conflict. [note: i want to make it clear that i'm not trying to simplify this conflict - it's clear to me that there is much more driving this conflict than simply the versions of history presented in classroom textbooks].
luckily, there are organizations and people concerned about trying to change the way we teach. zinn, for example. or, in the middle east, the peace research institute in the middle east, which is engaged in a long-term project attempting to introduce palestinian and israeli students to each other's historical narratives, in the hope that this will break down stereotypes and help create mutual understanding.
ok, i'm rambling. my point is, this is an interesting aspect of conflict that i don't think has seen enough research. how does education help perpetuate or transform longstanding antagonisms? can teaching less monolithic versions of history - or promoting in-depth study of current events from multiple points of view, rather than just presenting biased soundbytes on TV [see my previous post for the rant about that] help create a generation of leaders less inclined to pursue warfare and more willing to accept and tolerate peaceful dissent? more willing to engage in peaceful means of resolving disputes? if every american high school student were required to read a people's history of the united states, would racism and bigotry endure as long as they have?
my intuition says yes. but, until someone gets out there and does some concrete research on the subject - your guess is as good as mine.
the chapter has brought home a point that i think is actually epitomized by the very existence of this book. when i told a friend i was reading it, he responded to me:
"took me 2 attempts to read a people's history. i had to put it down at first: i hadn't been exposed to that history; it was too painful to read."
which is exactly the point zinn makes in and by the existence of his book: that history as taught, here in the united states as elsewhere, is controlled by policy-makers, politicians, special interest groups. we are taught from a young age to accept a certain version of history as "correct" and superior to versions taught by the losers, by minorities, by the less powerful. we're spoonfed dates and names of battles and wars that white european men won, but taught almost nothing about minority groups or women, except a passing acknowledgement to the 14th and 15th amendments and the suffrage movement.
the united states is not the only country in which this occurs. in fact, i would venture to say that the history curriculum we are taught in american schools probably does more to include 'unheard voices' than that of many other nations. not that it does nearly enough. but the point is, this brings me back to the issue of education perpetuating conflict. when students are given only one point of view and taught to view sub-groups in their society as superior, more civilized, and correct in previous actions - - this is the foundation upon which stereotypes and animosity are born. israeli and palestinian curricula are a prime example of this: for decades, civics curricula in both israel and the palestinian territories have promoted differing versions of the region's history which have created polarized attitudes on the part of israeli and palestinian students. no doubt, these monolithic versions of history have helped create generations of young people who know almost nothing of, yet hate, one another - thus helping perpetuate the conflict. [note: i want to make it clear that i'm not trying to simplify this conflict - it's clear to me that there is much more driving this conflict than simply the versions of history presented in classroom textbooks].
luckily, there are organizations and people concerned about trying to change the way we teach. zinn, for example. or, in the middle east, the peace research institute in the middle east, which is engaged in a long-term project attempting to introduce palestinian and israeli students to each other's historical narratives, in the hope that this will break down stereotypes and help create mutual understanding.
ok, i'm rambling. my point is, this is an interesting aspect of conflict that i don't think has seen enough research. how does education help perpetuate or transform longstanding antagonisms? can teaching less monolithic versions of history - or promoting in-depth study of current events from multiple points of view, rather than just presenting biased soundbytes on TV [see my previous post for the rant about that] help create a generation of leaders less inclined to pursue warfare and more willing to accept and tolerate peaceful dissent? more willing to engage in peaceful means of resolving disputes? if every american high school student were required to read a people's history of the united states, would racism and bigotry endure as long as they have?
my intuition says yes. but, until someone gets out there and does some concrete research on the subject - your guess is as good as mine.
Thursday, February 02, 2006
the human cost
a few days ago, after reading an article a friend pointed out, i noticed a report on cnn's website detailing the death of US and coalition forces since the start of the war in iraq. aside from listing the number of casualties [more than 2300 at this point], the 'special report' includes pictures, age, hometown, and other information that puts an actual human face on what these days seems to be no more than just a number.
it was refreshing to see this [i later noticed a similar 'special feature' in the new york times]. one of the things that has been bothering me lately about the death toll in the iraq war, and actually, more generally about the news, is how everything is skimmed over. sure, every once in a while i read an article that seems to present a quasi-thorough analysis of, well, something - - but for the most part, everything i hear/read/see these days is dished out in small, uninformative quantities.
it's a little bit of a catch-22: the advent of TV and especially of the internet let us consume news 24/7 - -therefore, newscasters [journalists, editors, commentators, whatever] feel the need to fill those 24/7 with something new all the time -- even if that something new is the news that ariel sharon, incapacitated after his january 4th stroke, just moved his left pinky 3/4 of an inch. we have the ability to learn something new whenever we want, so the people providing us with information inundate us with mundane pieces of trivia to satisfy us. that makes people feel like they 'know what is going on in the world,' although the sad truth is that things are so much more complicated than almost any cnn- or fox- or even bbc-viewing individual can fathom.
but, i digress. the reason this CNN report is interesting is because it requires its readers to think a little bit beyond the 'soundbyte,' this is true. but more importantly, it requires readers to think beyond the abstract concept of 'war fatalities.' over the past few years the number of deaths we've heard about - iraqi, afghan, sri lankan, pakistani, american - is so staggering that it's hard to remember that each one is a human being, more than just a statistic in the headlines.
in any case, looking at the CNN website reminded me of something i wrote several months back, after volunteering at the american friends service committee's eyes wide open exhibit when it came to new york this past october. i've posted it below...
************************************************************************************
i want to tell you about the human cost of war.
it's at the cathedral of st. john the divine, at 110th and amsterdam in manhattan. it comes in the form of boots - 1959 pairs of boots, one for each of the 1959 military personnel who have thus far lost their lives in iraq. and it comes in the form of shoes - hundreds of pairs of shoes snaking through the knave in a labyrinth, symbolizing the lives of iraqi civilians whose lives were lost since march 2003. boots and shoes lined up against the backdrop of the city's largest gothic cathedral and a quiet place of worship and reflection.
i spent three hours at st. john's yesterday as a docent, answering questions for visitors who came by to see this american friends service committee exhibit, appropriately titled "eyes wide open." before my shift started, and over the course of the afternoon, i walked slowly through the rows of boots and shoes. i stood at the front of the knave and looked back towards the opening of the cathedral and saw a sea of black: 1959 pairs of boots [though didn't it say 1957 when i first arrived? is it actually possible that two pairs were added in the 3 hours i was there?]. as i walked through the exhibit the mass of black turned into individual pairs, each distinguished by a name tag giving rank, name [except in cases where labeled "name removed at the request of the family"], age and home state of the fallen soldier. black boots, brown desert combat boots, men and women's - lined up in row after row, filling the cathedral from back to front. as i walked through the rows, i saw additional distinctions marking each individual - a flower left in one pair of boots, a peurto rican flag in another, a small horse tied to the front of one north carolina boot. pictures, momentos, programs from memorial services, letters to and from the fallen soldier. one, written by wesley c. fottenbery of texas [38 at his time of death]: "i hope they have their hearts in the right place," he wrote after one particularly excruciating rescue mission, "because this is just all too much."
a note left on a colorado boot: "all that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing - sir edmund burke." a veterans for peace button on another boot further down the line. and a poignant letter written just 5 days ago to a soldier in madison, WI: "mark, this is so hard. we were supposed to be catching up, running into each other at a bar in madison. i know we lost touch, but you were supposed to still be out there, somewhere."
names and ages: 18, 31, 23, 20. jeff lucey of MA, who committed suicide several months after his return to the states, and whose parents spoke out against the lack of proper treatment he and other soldiers received. 15 pairs of boots on a table, donated by families who wanted their sons' actual boots to travel the country and shout out to all that there is a human cost to this war far beyond what the media shows us every day [the rest of the boots have been donated by army/navy surplus stores]. and 5 pairs of boots, placed at the end of the last row, each of which holds a tag stating "soldier's name not yet released."
poignant, mesmerizing, and truly a way to open eyes. one woman came up to me as though she had a question to ask - then abruptly turned away, saying only, "my heart is full, i cannot speak." i was told of a woman who had visited the exhibit previously, found her daughter's boots, turned to the staff member nearby and said, "you have to switch these boots. my daughter never would have worn boots this large." a mother and daughter came in - the mother and grandmother of a soldier who has, thankfully, returned home safely to seattle from his tour in iraq. "i'm glad he and his wife aren't here right now," his mother stated. "he saw it enough there."
i stood watching, as names of the dead were read out. as she began reading out names, paula, the mother of an enlisted marine and a member of 'military parents speak out,' briefly lost control and her voice cracked. was she thinking, only due to serendipity is it the case that her son's name wasn't being read? or did it occur to her, as it did to me, that six hours - the length of time needed to read through the names of the soldiers and through only a small part of the iraqi civilian names - is too much, that reading anything at all is already too much?
after 3 hours, i left the exhibit, walked into the grey NY evening. for some reason, the simon and garfunkel song "7pm news/silent night" came into my head. do you know it? a quiet rendition of "silent night" put to the background of a newscaster reading that day's news - full of war updates from vietnam. as i left st. john's last night the song strangely mirrored my own senses as i walked through the streets. i passed through the laughter, music, and languages of NY, wondering- behind the music i heard, who among these people is part of that human cost of war - the cousin, parent, child, friend, neighbor of one of the 1959 soldiers killed? because that's what the human cost is - it's not just the soldier killed in combat or in training or due to emotional/physical/mental stress endured in iraq. it's the person, the individual who leaves behind not only a life left unfilled but family, friends, teachers, mentors and admirers with a space missing in their hearts. it's future lives lost and past lives left without someone to remember them years down the line. it's not a worthwhile cost, is it?
and yet - it's hard to grasp, to make real. even as i was among the boots and shoes yesterday it was difficult for me to truly comprehend the depth, the breadth of the loss that is felt. and it's difficult to take the time to think about what this cost really means, especially as we all go about our daily lives, for the most part unaffected, hoping without really knowing we're hoping that the loss doesn't hit close to home.
i know i'm no different. i don't think about these losses every day - over the past 5 years, as i've watched lives being lost all across the middle east through random acts of violence, revenge, war and its aftermath, i've become jaded, shielded somewhat so that every name i heard doesn't send pain shooting through my heart. still, i felt chills all afternoon. maybe i regained some sense of emotional reaction to something i've become accustomed to seeing as only statistics, for a few hours at least. in some ways that's good. though it's important to find a balance, of course - otherwise it would be impossible to function daily. i imagine the soldiers would all agree with me on that.
and writing this? i don't think i'm headed towards a particular point. it's been a day since i was there, and though i found that balance and went on to think about other things, just envisioning the knave - the boots and shoes - throws me off yet again. i write this to try to pass that feeling along, spread it outward, make the human cost real for everyone, not just those fortunate enough to be able to see this exhibit with their own eyes. perhaps it's a small first step towards making sure that the cost doesn't rise.
it was refreshing to see this [i later noticed a similar 'special feature' in the new york times]. one of the things that has been bothering me lately about the death toll in the iraq war, and actually, more generally about the news, is how everything is skimmed over. sure, every once in a while i read an article that seems to present a quasi-thorough analysis of, well, something - - but for the most part, everything i hear/read/see these days is dished out in small, uninformative quantities.
it's a little bit of a catch-22: the advent of TV and especially of the internet let us consume news 24/7 - -therefore, newscasters [journalists, editors, commentators, whatever] feel the need to fill those 24/7 with something new all the time -- even if that something new is the news that ariel sharon, incapacitated after his january 4th stroke, just moved his left pinky 3/4 of an inch. we have the ability to learn something new whenever we want, so the people providing us with information inundate us with mundane pieces of trivia to satisfy us. that makes people feel like they 'know what is going on in the world,' although the sad truth is that things are so much more complicated than almost any cnn- or fox- or even bbc-viewing individual can fathom.
but, i digress. the reason this CNN report is interesting is because it requires its readers to think a little bit beyond the 'soundbyte,' this is true. but more importantly, it requires readers to think beyond the abstract concept of 'war fatalities.' over the past few years the number of deaths we've heard about - iraqi, afghan, sri lankan, pakistani, american - is so staggering that it's hard to remember that each one is a human being, more than just a statistic in the headlines.
in any case, looking at the CNN website reminded me of something i wrote several months back, after volunteering at the american friends service committee's eyes wide open exhibit when it came to new york this past october. i've posted it below...
************************************************************************************
i want to tell you about the human cost of war.
it's at the cathedral of st. john the divine, at 110th and amsterdam in manhattan. it comes in the form of boots - 1959 pairs of boots, one for each of the 1959 military personnel who have thus far lost their lives in iraq. and it comes in the form of shoes - hundreds of pairs of shoes snaking through the knave in a labyrinth, symbolizing the lives of iraqi civilians whose lives were lost since march 2003. boots and shoes lined up against the backdrop of the city's largest gothic cathedral and a quiet place of worship and reflection.
i spent three hours at st. john's yesterday as a docent, answering questions for visitors who came by to see this american friends service committee exhibit, appropriately titled "eyes wide open." before my shift started, and over the course of the afternoon, i walked slowly through the rows of boots and shoes. i stood at the front of the knave and looked back towards the opening of the cathedral and saw a sea of black: 1959 pairs of boots [though didn't it say 1957 when i first arrived? is it actually possible that two pairs were added in the 3 hours i was there?]. as i walked through the exhibit the mass of black turned into individual pairs, each distinguished by a name tag giving rank, name [except in cases where labeled "name removed at the request of the family"], age and home state of the fallen soldier. black boots, brown desert combat boots, men and women's - lined up in row after row, filling the cathedral from back to front. as i walked through the rows, i saw additional distinctions marking each individual - a flower left in one pair of boots, a peurto rican flag in another, a small horse tied to the front of one north carolina boot. pictures, momentos, programs from memorial services, letters to and from the fallen soldier. one, written by wesley c. fottenbery of texas [38 at his time of death]: "i hope they have their hearts in the right place," he wrote after one particularly excruciating rescue mission, "because this is just all too much."
a note left on a colorado boot: "all that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing - sir edmund burke." a veterans for peace button on another boot further down the line. and a poignant letter written just 5 days ago to a soldier in madison, WI: "mark, this is so hard. we were supposed to be catching up, running into each other at a bar in madison. i know we lost touch, but you were supposed to still be out there, somewhere."
names and ages: 18, 31, 23, 20. jeff lucey of MA, who committed suicide several months after his return to the states, and whose parents spoke out against the lack of proper treatment he and other soldiers received. 15 pairs of boots on a table, donated by families who wanted their sons' actual boots to travel the country and shout out to all that there is a human cost to this war far beyond what the media shows us every day [the rest of the boots have been donated by army/navy surplus stores]. and 5 pairs of boots, placed at the end of the last row, each of which holds a tag stating "soldier's name not yet released."
poignant, mesmerizing, and truly a way to open eyes. one woman came up to me as though she had a question to ask - then abruptly turned away, saying only, "my heart is full, i cannot speak." i was told of a woman who had visited the exhibit previously, found her daughter's boots, turned to the staff member nearby and said, "you have to switch these boots. my daughter never would have worn boots this large." a mother and daughter came in - the mother and grandmother of a soldier who has, thankfully, returned home safely to seattle from his tour in iraq. "i'm glad he and his wife aren't here right now," his mother stated. "he saw it enough there."
i stood watching, as names of the dead were read out. as she began reading out names, paula, the mother of an enlisted marine and a member of 'military parents speak out,' briefly lost control and her voice cracked. was she thinking, only due to serendipity is it the case that her son's name wasn't being read? or did it occur to her, as it did to me, that six hours - the length of time needed to read through the names of the soldiers and through only a small part of the iraqi civilian names - is too much, that reading anything at all is already too much?
after 3 hours, i left the exhibit, walked into the grey NY evening. for some reason, the simon and garfunkel song "7pm news/silent night" came into my head. do you know it? a quiet rendition of "silent night" put to the background of a newscaster reading that day's news - full of war updates from vietnam. as i left st. john's last night the song strangely mirrored my own senses as i walked through the streets. i passed through the laughter, music, and languages of NY, wondering- behind the music i heard, who among these people is part of that human cost of war - the cousin, parent, child, friend, neighbor of one of the 1959 soldiers killed? because that's what the human cost is - it's not just the soldier killed in combat or in training or due to emotional/physical/mental stress endured in iraq. it's the person, the individual who leaves behind not only a life left unfilled but family, friends, teachers, mentors and admirers with a space missing in their hearts. it's future lives lost and past lives left without someone to remember them years down the line. it's not a worthwhile cost, is it?
and yet - it's hard to grasp, to make real. even as i was among the boots and shoes yesterday it was difficult for me to truly comprehend the depth, the breadth of the loss that is felt. and it's difficult to take the time to think about what this cost really means, especially as we all go about our daily lives, for the most part unaffected, hoping without really knowing we're hoping that the loss doesn't hit close to home.
i know i'm no different. i don't think about these losses every day - over the past 5 years, as i've watched lives being lost all across the middle east through random acts of violence, revenge, war and its aftermath, i've become jaded, shielded somewhat so that every name i heard doesn't send pain shooting through my heart. still, i felt chills all afternoon. maybe i regained some sense of emotional reaction to something i've become accustomed to seeing as only statistics, for a few hours at least. in some ways that's good. though it's important to find a balance, of course - otherwise it would be impossible to function daily. i imagine the soldiers would all agree with me on that.
and writing this? i don't think i'm headed towards a particular point. it's been a day since i was there, and though i found that balance and went on to think about other things, just envisioning the knave - the boots and shoes - throws me off yet again. i write this to try to pass that feeling along, spread it outward, make the human cost real for everyone, not just those fortunate enough to be able to see this exhibit with their own eyes. perhaps it's a small first step towards making sure that the cost doesn't rise.
Thursday, January 26, 2006
hamas wins it all...
not all, actually, but certainly a clear majority in yesterday's palestinian parliamentary elections - the new york times is reporting that hamas has won 76 seats in the 132-member legislative council.
my immediate reaction to reading this was to grieve for an as-of-yet nonexistent middle east peace. hamas' past history and its political policies make it an unlikely partner for collaboration with the israeli government, even a government that seems to have accepted the reality of a palestinian state. so what does that say about the palestinians? are the majority of them really committed to an ongoing conflict and the destruction of israel?
perhaps. given the situation in which palestinians have been placed - by israel, to be sure, but also by jordan and egypt and the rest of the arab world - it really wouldn't surprise me if most of them were willing to accept hamas' political ideology, so long as they can get food on the table and give their children an education. because the thing is, this election wasn't about the peace process. it was about survival - every day needs.
it's funny, from the outside people think about the middle east and how much the issue of peace dominates the political landscape. even in israel it's probably the biggest political issue. but for palestinians and many israelis - - daily survival trumps peace negotiations. it's similar to the situation here in the us: the war in iraq doesn't actually affect people's lives here on a daily basis - they care more about education and jobs. and this election is a not-subtle reminder of the fact that palestinians need to survive before they can worry about israel's security. not from a governing point of view, but from the typical voter's "i gotta eat" point of view.
it'll be interesting to see how things develop in the political spectrum over the next few months. but for now, this is a good reminder that there are more pressing issues for people than diplomatic maneuvering. in fact, it's quite a luxury to even be able to think about it...
my immediate reaction to reading this was to grieve for an as-of-yet nonexistent middle east peace. hamas' past history and its political policies make it an unlikely partner for collaboration with the israeli government, even a government that seems to have accepted the reality of a palestinian state. so what does that say about the palestinians? are the majority of them really committed to an ongoing conflict and the destruction of israel?
perhaps. given the situation in which palestinians have been placed - by israel, to be sure, but also by jordan and egypt and the rest of the arab world - it really wouldn't surprise me if most of them were willing to accept hamas' political ideology, so long as they can get food on the table and give their children an education. because the thing is, this election wasn't about the peace process. it was about survival - every day needs.
it's funny, from the outside people think about the middle east and how much the issue of peace dominates the political landscape. even in israel it's probably the biggest political issue. but for palestinians and many israelis - - daily survival trumps peace negotiations. it's similar to the situation here in the us: the war in iraq doesn't actually affect people's lives here on a daily basis - they care more about education and jobs. and this election is a not-subtle reminder of the fact that palestinians need to survive before they can worry about israel's security. not from a governing point of view, but from the typical voter's "i gotta eat" point of view.
it'll be interesting to see how things develop in the political spectrum over the next few months. but for now, this is a good reminder that there are more pressing issues for people than diplomatic maneuvering. in fact, it's quite a luxury to even be able to think about it...
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
words of wisdom from kentucky
i was reading wendell berry's 'another turn of the crank' a few days ago on my commute to work [that's the nice thing about subway commutes - - a chance to do some pleasure reading]. i was introduced to berry, a kentuckian farmer and philospher, not too long ago, and have been soaking in his words ever since. i don't know if i agree with every word he says, but i would feel privleged if wendell berry were a part of my community. what he says - about local living, community, and the importance of being attached to where we are and where we come from - makes a lot of sense.
i was thinking about berry's commentary on life as i sat in a crowded subway car crossing the manhattan bridge. new york city is the epitome of everything berry writes against. but the truth is, our society in general is no longer one that promotes local or natural lifestyles. all over the industrial, 'civilized' world, we live so unnaturally - - in every way from the smallest things [women wearing high heels that wreak havoc on their legs and feet, using A/C and heating in a way that moves our bodies unnaturally from hot to cold, and back, in a matter of seconds] to entire lifestyles [people living in cities and having no connection to nature, to the rest of the natural earth; living in tiny, individual units without knowing their neighbors or feeling a larger sense of community].
this was emphasized by an early morning conversation i had a few days earlier with the woman sitting next to me on the "Q" train. she wanted to make sure that her ipod wasn't bothering me, and her one question turned into a 20 minute conversation on the merits of various MP3 players. when i got off the train that morning, i was basking in the uniqeuess of that conversation and my chance to engage with a stranger - - and yet, why should that be the exception, rather than the rule? why did it seem so strange to have a conversation with someone with whom i was sharing a 48" plastic bench?
society's expectations of us are not what even our own bodies expect of us. i wonder sometimes, if i just let my body take its own course- not setting alarms, eating when and only when hungry - what patterns would arise. i would bet they'd be really, really different from what is 'standard' or what most urban - and even non-urban - dwellers are used to. and yet, what we're used to is so far from what we are physiologically best suited to do.
so what berry says about natural living and community really moves me. his ideas are something i've reflected upon often: how important it is to be part of a community where i'm not invisible, where the producers of goods i consume are not abstract entities, where i am part of a functioning, inter-dependent unit that goes beyond my own individual self and even my immediate family [current and potentialfuture]. i think about how to try to create that in a society that discourages it at every turn. i don't know if i have a solution, other than to 'just do it' and look for other like-minded people with whom to share a community. like berry himself, perhaps...
i was thinking about berry's commentary on life as i sat in a crowded subway car crossing the manhattan bridge. new york city is the epitome of everything berry writes against. but the truth is, our society in general is no longer one that promotes local or natural lifestyles. all over the industrial, 'civilized' world, we live so unnaturally - - in every way from the smallest things [women wearing high heels that wreak havoc on their legs and feet, using A/C and heating in a way that moves our bodies unnaturally from hot to cold, and back, in a matter of seconds] to entire lifestyles [people living in cities and having no connection to nature, to the rest of the natural earth; living in tiny, individual units without knowing their neighbors or feeling a larger sense of community].
this was emphasized by an early morning conversation i had a few days earlier with the woman sitting next to me on the "Q" train. she wanted to make sure that her ipod wasn't bothering me, and her one question turned into a 20 minute conversation on the merits of various MP3 players. when i got off the train that morning, i was basking in the uniqeuess of that conversation and my chance to engage with a stranger - - and yet, why should that be the exception, rather than the rule? why did it seem so strange to have a conversation with someone with whom i was sharing a 48" plastic bench?
society's expectations of us are not what even our own bodies expect of us. i wonder sometimes, if i just let my body take its own course- not setting alarms, eating when and only when hungry - what patterns would arise. i would bet they'd be really, really different from what is 'standard' or what most urban - and even non-urban - dwellers are used to. and yet, what we're used to is so far from what we are physiologically best suited to do.
so what berry says about natural living and community really moves me. his ideas are something i've reflected upon often: how important it is to be part of a community where i'm not invisible, where the producers of goods i consume are not abstract entities, where i am part of a functioning, inter-dependent unit that goes beyond my own individual self and even my immediate family [current and potentialfuture]. i think about how to try to create that in a society that discourages it at every turn. i don't know if i have a solution, other than to 'just do it' and look for other like-minded people with whom to share a community. like berry himself, perhaps...
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