My Education, part 1: Isaac and My Mind

My younger brother has always been a touchstone for me in thinking about education, though I'm sure it would surprise him to read that. And I think he would be surprised for the same reason I try to always keep him in mind: His brain does not work the same way mine does. His mind (from what I understand) functions mostly in pictures and sounds. He is very good at putting things together and at making them look the way he wants to. He is good at showing ideas visually. I am not. I function in words and numbers, primarily. I love to read and I am very good at math. This also means that I am very good at tests, especially those lovely bubble tests I took every year starting in elementary school.

Isaac, you might guess, is not so good at those kinds of tests. He learned to read quite late, and even after he did so, expecting him to derive some concept from flat black words on a flat gray page and then find the appropriate flat black words from the list provided wasn’t an appropriate way to measure what his mind was capable of.  He could and can get decent scores and decent grades, but most of the ways that students’ minds are traditionally measured miss the majority of his intelligence.

He suffered emotionally for the immeasurability of his mind beginning when he was quite young. I was held up as an ideal little brain, loving to read books and work with numbers. Most of the things that Isaac was motivated about were dismissed as games or hobbies, and not the stuff of ‘real’ education. I wasn’t usually convinced that the books I read were building my mind more effectively than the drawing of creatures and construction of scenes with legos or other toys on which Isaac spent his time. I was honestly often embarrassed when I tried to do what he did—he understood things about how shapes could fit together to make something unexpected that I could not keep up with—his creations were consistently more interesting than mine on multiple levels.

I was eternally conflicted about the different ways our intelligences were treated. I was made accustomed at a very early age to being thought of as the ‘smarter’ and often simply ‘better’ sibling. Most of the time I knew that that wasn’t true, but that knowledge by itself wasn’t always enough to make me unhappy hearing it, as least as far as I myself was concerned. I lived on praise. I did hate the way I could see it made Isaac feel, and because of this I sometimes resolved not to tell my family of something ‘admirable’ that I had done. I would conceal the fact that I had already finished a novel or how quickly I was getting through my math workbook. Sadly for both of us (and especially Isaac) my resolve did not often outlast my need for positive attention.

Even a step further outside of measurable education are our emotional compositions. Another thing that made it easy for adults to praise me was my retreating and people-pleasing nature. I tried to get out of the way or change the topic of conversation and make conflict unnecessary. Isaac did not. I often thought he was unreasonable, and he could definitely be disobedient, but he maintained a principle within himself of not abandoning things that mattered to him I have always admired and envied.

If I turn into another// Dig me up from under what is covering// The better part of me

I am still working on being open and present, in my day to day relationships and in the deeper relationships with friends and family that may only surface in too-infrequent emails and phone calls and holidays, but offer a mirror of my progress and a reminder of who I am.

I am still working to put all the pieces of myself together. To see who I have been and who I am and who I want to be. I struggle sometimes with the self I see reflected in others. For instance, after my parents' divorce it was hard for me to interact with quite a few people who'd known me for a long time. They (you) saw the same person they had seen before, but all the pieces of me had come apart and I didn't know for a long time which ones to keep. I had defined myself by my family's life together, by our house and neighborhood, by the fact that I homeschooled, by the time I had for my friends, and I lost those things. It took a while for me to get my feet under me again, and even after I did old relationships were often a sharp reminder of how much had changed. This has been true of other transitions since then, though to a lesser extent. I change and want to move on, and don't always know how to interact with people I knew before.

I don't want that to stay true. I don't want to see my own struggles in your faces. I am learning to define myself as the intersection of all of your lives, as this beautiful point of opportunity to learn from you and share something of what I see. I am learning to look forward to the worlds of people and experiences I have ahead of me.

One of the clearest things I feel about my own identity is the necessity of travel. I didn't apply to ISU because I grew up in Ames, I grudgingly stayed in state for the tuition, and did not even consider staying in the US after I graduated. I don't have anything against the US, but it just felt wrong to be there last year and seriously added to the stress of my last year at UIowa. As much as I am struggling with my classes and my self this semester, I am definitely on the right continent.

In school news again, yesterday I wrote almost 1,000 characters of my civil law paper on the way that the Stubborn Nail House owners (钉子户） (who refuse to move when the government licenses their land for development) and their treatment in the media signal the recent developments in civil society in China. Woohooooo. I have done very little today.

Today's title brought to you by Dig by Incubus
Today's almost title #1 brought to you by 23 by Jimmy Eat World (I felt for sure last night// That when we said goodbye// No one else will know these lonely dreams)
Today's almost title #2 brought to you by Wasting Time by Jack Johnson (Nobody knows anything about themselves// 'Cause they're all worried about everybody else)

Countdown to Christian: 24 days (24, Christian Yetter! Fools round down!)

The Opium Wars

After taking my physics final last friday, I went to the IC Public Library to get myself some not-required reading to celebrate. I came away with four Chinese movies (all of which I have yet to watch) and four books, three of which focus on China.

I immediately began reading The Opium Wars (and I'd like you to all to take a moment to appreciate how well I know how to relax and enjoy myself. Opium Wars). Personally, before going to China the first time I had heard of the Opium Wars but could not really say anything about them. This is not too surprising and should not, perhaps, cause despair for American educational institutions; my grasp on history has never been terribly strong. However, I have since realized that these are Wars which had and continue to have a huge impact on the way that China interacts with the (especially Western) world, and I would probably do well to have some kind of understanding of them.

I am about halfway through the three-hundred page tome and my overall learning so far can be summed up thus: "Foreign relations misadventure today can't hold a candle to the shit that went down two centuries ago." British merchants starting selling India-grown opium in China in the late eighteenth century because, basically, Great Britain had recently fallen in love with Chinese tea, and their government was losing vast sums of silver (the only form of payment China would accept) each year to keep their people in tea. They needed some way to lessen the debt, but were in possession of precisely nothing for which China was interested in trading. So, Parliament stifled its moral objectors and allowed the opium trade to explode.

To keep from writing my own three-hundred page retelling of what happened, here is a brief summary in dialogue-form:

A few people in England: Opium is addictive and does awful things to people! Selling it is very wrong!
The Majority of British merchants: If we don't sell it, someone else will.
Chinese bureaucrats to foreign merchants: Stop selling opium or we will confiscate it and kill you.
Chinese bureaucrats to Chinese: Stop using opium. We'll help you for 18 months and if you're still using, we'll kill you.
Chinese Emporer to Queen Victoria: Please stop this immoral trade. I hope you can appreciate, with your small barbarian mind, the horror you are wreaking on my country.
Queen Victoria: *never got the letter, as one copy was lost in the mail and the sailor who delivered the second was told by a member of Parliament the the Queen wouldn't be interested*
Chinese Bureaucracy/Army: *confiscates and destroys twenty thousand chests of British opium*
British Army: *begins invading China with vastly superior military and equipment, suffers almost no losses and massacres Chinese civilians as well as soldiers*
Chinese Bureaucracy to Chinese Emperor: You're the best! The British are running away!
Everyone: Why won't you all acknowledge my innate superiority and do what I say?!

I don't mean to belittle the events or people involved by saying I completely understand their motives or the way these wars affected lives, but that's what I've got so far. Diplomats and military leaders on both sides were repeatedly fired for not having produced the results their governments wanted, and were replaced by people with even less understanding of the foreign culture they were interacting with. Eventually China was forced to cede major ports and allow opium to be pumped into the country ad nauseum. The country broke down in a lot of ways, as millions and millions of people became addicted to opium. When Chinese thinkers/officials asked British government or merchants to please stop bringing in this devastating drug, the reply they received was to tell their people not to use it anymore. I am so glad we don't live in that world anymore, friends.

(The next book I get to read is called What Does China Think? (中国怎么想）and appears ready to give me much hope for the future...)

By the hand (hand)- take me by the hand, pretty mama!

I am so grateful for all of the people in my life. I tend to keep people farther away than I really mean to; I am only an occasional member (I feel) of most of the friend groups/communities that are important to me. This is usually the way I mean to be; I try to be there with people when I know I can sincerely care and pay attention to them the way they deserve, and give myself space when I need to. It's also sometimes the way I can't help being. I run into an inner wall pretty consistently that doesn't allow me to say what I mean, or at least makes me wring my hands and say what I mean falteringly. I've noticed that this happens much more often when I begin to judge my life by my ego, by how much I or other people approve of me rather than seeing the things that are happening in the world and in my life and doing the best I can with them.

At the same time, this distance is not just ego or just cowardice. I grew up in a pretty emotionally dysfunctional environment, and I can feel myself starting to cross a line into dependency on specific relationships into ground that isn't healthy (this line having little or nothing to do with the actions of the other person). I am so much happier and healthier, more confident and more comfortable with who I am than I was not all that long ago; I know I am going in good directions, but I do still need to keep track of myself.

It occurs to me that this topic is almost too personal for a public blog, but I'm assuming that if you've taken the time to read this you've probably encountered my emotional wall (it generally manifests in blank stares and noncommittal mutterings, until I find time and space to myself to untangle my thoughts) at some point or another. I'm taking it apart, but it's pretty tenacious. I am so grateful for all the caring, patient, intelligent and meaningful relationships in my life that help me to understand myself and the world a little better every day.

Hm. That wasn't really a travel topic, either. Except that trying to understand the challenges that I bring into relationships with people close to home, without the stresses of being in a new place and far away from my usual support system, will pretty definitely help me to have meaningful and not flailing and frustrated relationships in China next year.

How far we've come

A good conversation this afternoon ('this afternoon being a couple of weeks ago, by the time I'm actually posting this) has left me thinking about where I have come from, mentally, emotionally, and culturally, and where I am going.

The more I reflect on it, the more I feel I have been lucky in almost every way possible in my background. I have been loved, educated, challenged, and allowed my independence both from family and friends (while keeping meaningful relationships) and from American culture at large.

Being raised Baha'i and homeschooled (why does no writing software ever recognize any form of this as a word? Is it two?) forced me to make decisions about how I defined myself and who I wanted to be. I couldn't just take on standard values and identities, because they simply were not offered to me. Sure, I played dress up, played with Barbies, and watched cartoons, but always with guidance about gender roles being unnecessary, ridiculous body images being unhealthy, and the knowledge that if I watched one show I wouldn't be able to see any others as my daily TV allowance was only half an hour. I defined myself by my family, my friends, and what I experienced of the world through their stories and my eyes.

I have also been reflecting that my parents' divorce and the challenges we faced individually and as a family in the aftermath were vital for me to become who I am. I am sure there are less traumatic ways I could have become who I want to be, but I am not sure that I would have taken advantage of them. I was left with fears and insecurities I may have been able to avoid given a different life story. But if I had not been forced to take apart my identity and evaluate all the pieces one by one I think it is much more likely that I would still have those faults, and have lost only the ability to name them.

This leads me to a quote of 'Abdu'l-Baha's, that "the mind and spirit of man advance when he is tried by suffering. The more the ground is ploughed the better the seed will grow, the better the harvest will be. Just as the plough furrows the earth deeply, purifying it of weeds and thistles, so suffering and tribulation free man from the petty affairs of this worldly like until he arrives at a state of complete detachment. His attitude in this world will be that of divine happiness."

Don't get me wrong, I'm not heading out looking for ways to suffer. I am frustrated enough as it is by all of the ways that I hold myself back by remembering past unhappiness. But I will not pass by opportunities merely because they promise difficulty or challenge of whatever kind. I am terrified of how far away I am going to feel in China next year, and how long that year will be. I still define myself in large part by the people in my life and how they help me to see myself. I am blessed to have a number of deep friendships which have lasted a decade or more, and a number of newer ones I can only hope will last that long. I know that I and these friendships will survive the next year. I have a tightness in my stomach thinking about it because I'm not sure how, but I am sure that I will grow and that growth can only help me to deepen friendships.

In conclusion: I love you!