Wednesday, March 30, 2011

"The brain is a very big place in a very small space"

Hello, all!

I'd just like to share some of the music that has been filling my mind since I didn't manage to write a new post last weekend. Very short, but I hope you enjoy it!

Take a Minute by K'naan-- this is a grounding and grateful song.

The Puzzle by Brother Ali, and Good Lord by Brother Ali as well-- I am continually impressed by the humility and wisdom in his lyrics (and by his life story).

Keep Your Head Up by Andy Grammar-- a sweet, hopeful song. (If you're not really into rap/hiphop, start here on this list)

Dig by Incubus and Earth to Bella by Incubus. I have shared these before, I think. They fit well with my introspection.

and last, Ode to the Brain by Symphony of Science ! This dude cuts together and autotunes pieces of scientific lectures (from the greats!) and the results are often really moving.

I bet that you can figure out which one my title came from.

Sunday, March 20, 2011

how do we show each other who we are

I have always disliked labels. I owe this largely to having been raised and homeschooled by an anthropologist, as well as the Baha'i community. I learned early that they are often a deception; they whittle down complex identities to one or two words. Labels are generally static in the minds of those defining them, while the identity of anyone being defined is a dynamic thing, daily growing and being pruned. They are often assigned or inherited, and can be a constant hindrance to a person’s being seen by others or even understanding themselves.

One the other hand, they can be powerful and beautiful tools when they are self-chosen and self-defined. A dear friend has recently begun demanding that the people in her life let her define her Chinese-Americanness for herself and be willing to learn (as we so desperately need to) about how our behavior and attitudes might be racist without intending or often even realizing it.  You can find her words on this here in her blog. She has been a strong inspiring force for me to keep examining myself, and to see positive and negative aspects of my mind with confidence to best become who I want to be.

Knowing these things has made my feelings towards labels complicated. I am sometimes too wary of  the judgments I will receive from others for identifying myself with an idea or group, and sometimes wary of the problems that I might be allowing myself to sweep under a rug and ignore by placing a label over the areas of my identity involved.

I am lucky that in the Midwestern US the notable elements of my identity are chosen, invisible, or both. I do not wear my minority religion in my skin; I do not wear my parents’ divorce in my face. One cannot tell by looking or even talking to me that I was homeschooled, however much of the stigma against homeschooling they may buy into. I blend very easily into the white middle class majority. I cannot escape from being labeled female (my boobs have seen to that since seventh grade, and my love of dangly earrings rather reinforces it). I spent a lot of time in middle and high school experimenting with how 'female' I dressed and how people reacted to me. I hate how big of a difference there often is in how well people treat a feminine-ly dressed woman verses a more androgynous-ly dressed one, but I nevertheless am usually in the well-treated category.

The Baha’i Faith has often been central in my thoughts about chosen and denied identities. When my parents separated and my family identity shifted radically, and I began public school and lost the present tense in my alternative-schooler identity, I took a big step away from my identity in the Baha'i community as well. Partially this was confusion; I didn't understand the change in my other identities and thus didn't understand how this one could stay the same. I could also feel a strong desire in myself for stability, for something that I could rest my identity on and stop thinking about it, and it frightened me to think about how much I would stop thinking about if I gave in to that desire.

I did not identify with religion at all during middle and high school. I investigated quite a few philosophies and religions and learned a lot about myself, largely through counselors and support groups. The removal of my primary identities gave me an excellent and rare opportunity to look underneath my labels and clean out my definitions of myself, and the help that I received allowed me to take advantage of it. 

During my freshmen year of university I decided that I was far enough from my former identity as Baha'i to investigate it again. I started looking through the books I still had and eventually decided to try praying and see if it made a difference in my life if I didn't tell anyone else about it. I did and it did, and after a while I decided to call myself Baha'i. I think this was one of the best decisions of my life. I affirmed my ability to define myself and was able to grow all over my mind and spirit with the ideas and discipline of Baha'i teachings.

Lately, however, I have been realizing that my Baha'i identity has been becoming more negative than positive. This is partially because I have been far away from my home Baha'i communities and thus haven't had as much input available on how to keep myself moving in positive and intentional directions, religion-wise. And mostly because it has begun to get tied up with my insecurities and other mental and emotional shortcomings. I have been feeling this label pulling me away from other people, making it hard for me to understand them rather than respect them for who they are. I do not think that this is inevitable with religious identity, but I don't think I'm the only one who has these struggles. There is a Truth in the Baha'i writings that I experienced pulling me up to a place above labels, where I could see more clearly what people around me were offering and the burdens they were carrying and how beautiful they were. But more recently I have been feeling myself holding this label up as proof that I don't have to look (and simultaneously being frustrated for lack of beauty in my life), that obviously if I am Baha'i I am seeing what's important.

Because of this I have decided that I need to take off my Baha'i label for a while. I am looking at my other identities and trying to figure out what I should do with them. I don't know if I am taking off my religious label forever. I don't think so, but I think to be honest in the self-investigation I need right now I cannot make any promises. 

I am so grateful for all of the sincere people in my life who constantly inspire me to look at myself and what I am giving to the world carefully, and for all the love in my life.

Saturday, March 19, 2011

The Hamdeok View: pictures from my new place!


The view out my window/over my balcony rail
This and the next couple were taken along the sea wall right in front of my building



Did I later eat these dried radishes at a local restaurant?! It's very likely, but let's move on.

These last three were taken from the top of my building today when I got my laundry



Thursday, March 17, 2011

Gratitude list

I've been focusing on problems (and fixing them, thankfully) in myself, my relationships, and in the rest of the world lately, and need to refocus on things that are good in my life. So, in no planned order, here are some things I am grateful for.

  • my mother, my daily encourager and ever-ready cuss-outer of things that trouble me
  • people who call me 'dude'
  • chocolate in all of its (but especially milk-free) forms
  • the ocean outside my window
  • my students' sense of humor
  • my electronic reader-- thank you dad!
  • all the people who share music with me
  • ondol heating. genius.
  • for-the-rest-of-my-life friends/guardians of my identity
  • languages, and the freedom to study them and understand my mind better
  • books! everywhere, books!
  • the peach juice in my fridge
  • having made progress in my what-do-I-actually-want-to-do-with-my-life decision making this year
  • being paid enough to live and pay my loans and save a little money for working 15 hours a week (I know, people, it's crazy)
  • the fact that every korean student everywhere seems to know the word "crazy"
  • boyfriend-man, and all that we have been learning recently
  • indoor plumbing!!

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Safe!

Hello all!

I had a few emails from concerned friends and family members, and just wanted to update here as well so everyone knows I am fine. Jeju island is quite close to Japan but the tsunami didn't do any damage here that I am aware of.

Love!

Thursday, March 10, 2011

My Education, part 3: Beginning Public School


My mother taught my brother and me at home until 1998, when I was finishing 6th grade and Isaac was finishing 4th. My parents separated that year, and both Isaac and I started public school in the fall. I had attended I think a month or so of first grade (after which my mother decided it wasn’t the best place for me to learn) and I believe two weeks of fifth grade (after which I decided it wasn’t the best place for me to learn) in public schools. I had just lost my identity as a family and my identity as an alternative-schooler (and moved house twice in five months), so for me a sharp identity-less panic was cast over the general malaise that is middle school adolescence. *

Even while I was attempting to just keep my head down and get good grades so no one would look at me and I could try to find some solid mental ground to stand on, I was horrified by some of the things I found in public middle school. Not that it was a bad school or that I had bad teachers. Many of my teachers were good, a few of them were excellent and there is only one who I would credit with increasing my anxiety. For one thing, I found that cliques were real, even though every book or movie or anecdote I had ever heard of seemed to prove that all cliques did was build walls between people who should have enjoyed each other.

More than that, I found that I had trouble relating to how the students learned. They were not used to having any control in their learning, and so didn’t often seem to evaluate the worth of a piece of learning outside of what it meant for their grade.

The experience that stands out most illustrating the difference I felt between our minds was a lecture by the eighth grade Social Studies teacher while I was in seventh grade. I don’t remember if it was just my grade or the whole school that was required to attend, but I remember being sent rather unexpectedly to the auditorium first thing in the morning instead of to my first period class. This teacher was originally from Laos and he told us the story of his family’s escape from their probable deaths in that country. I have never been a morning person, or terribly fond of changes in my schedule without my consent, so I don’t remember being thrilled to be in the auditorium at 8am when I was expecting to be in Reading class but I was moved by the offer he was making of such a personal experience. And I was impressed by the odds against this kind of story coming to me in Ames, Iowa. So I resolved to thank him for it.

I didn’t want to. I didn’t want his attention when I talked to him. I didn’t want to have to talk to anyone. I didn’t really want anyone to look at me. I just wanted to get through my classes so I could go back home. But I finally convinced myself that, even if not because of the magnitude of what he had offered, I had to thank him because everyone else would and I would be the obvious one missing.  So I wrung my hands for a while when everyone was milling around in the cafeterias afterwards and finally walked up and thanked him for what he had shared. He said I was welcome, and I think said another warm-hearted thing, and then as quickly as I could I made an awkward retreat.

A week or so later during a break in my Social Studies class, my teacher asked me (in front of everyone) if that had been me who thanked his colleague who had made that presentation. I said I had, and he thanked me and said I had been The Only** student who had thanked him, and that the presenter had been very moved that I had spoken to him.

Aside from this total backfire-- attention-wise-- of what I had been trying to accomplish, I could not believe this. I could and can hear some homeschool parent voices in my mind saying that public school kids don’t have manners, but honestly I think those voices can be dismissed pretty quickly. There were many students who were at least as worried about looking good as I was, and many also who were genuinely kind people. Somehow this just wasn’t personal for them, somehow they didn’t relate to him enough to want to talk to him. Or, if they wanted to, some other social force stopped them.


*I realize this is more or less a demand for pity, but this had a huge effect on the way that I experienced public school and I haven’t found an honest way to talk about this phase of my education without it. It probably also made my opinion of middle school much more negative. Please bear with me.
**I remember “The Only student”, and it may have been “one of the only students” or “one of the only students who wasn’t in his own classes.”

Monday, March 7, 2011

A note on home and public schooling


Writing about homeschooling and public school I am afraid that I may seem to be criticizing teachers in the public education system. That is not what I mean to be doing. Teachers attempt to be the living spark that crosses the distance between the institutions and necessities of public education (separation of learning into subjects, standardized tests, large classes with one schedule for many minds, and many more that public school teachers can identify more accurately than I) and the needs of living breathing students. The fact that teachers do this and even do it well is nothing less than incredible, and they have my constant respect.

On the other hand, homeschooling is highly stigmatized. Most people seem to think that parents who choose to homeschool their children are religious fanatics, abusive, or both. I'm sure there are families who sadly choose homeschooling for both of these reasons, but I don't know any. I knew a few homeschooling families who were sheltering their children more than I would have been comfortable with, and some families including my own who were not entirely functional emotionally. But I found a much higher percentage of children who thought badly of their minds when I started public school, and was shocked to find that only a few exceptional public school students even seemed to have a clue about how they learned and what characterized their individual minds. I think every homeschooler I know could have explained pretty confidently by the time they were eight years old whether or not they would learn from a lesson, and how they would need to supplement what a teacher or parent did to make sure that they did learn from it. 

Obviously it is possible for a public school experience to lead to developed and fulfilled minds, but I am hoping that my voice as a former homeschooler can help me and others to think about some of the reasons that it often doesn't. Because, honestly, I think that I received one of the best elementary-age educations in the country.

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Education reading list


I am going to try to keep an updated list of books and talks on education that I am exploring/planning to explore. I'll put recent additions at the top and leave previous entries below, and just re-date this post each time I add to it :)
always, always, I would love suggestions of books and thinkers who you find valuable in understanding education!