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.
Friday, February 24, 2006
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.
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