Earthquake Virgin

“The only source of knowledge is experience.”

Albert Einstein

Adam's leg was bouncing up and down in a kind of nervous shake. My friend Ryan and I were talking about art with him and his mom and sister. Sitting at a table on the sidewalk of the American Cafe, they were waiting for their food. And this kid's freakin' leg was going overtime.

“Who came up with 'Restless Leg Syndrome?' Did they make a lot of money from it?” I wondered to myself. It's genius if they did. Anyway, that's what was rocking the table so much, I thought. Some anxious kid shaking his leg.

And that was my whole experience of the earthquake.

For the rest of the sunny August afternoon, people shared their own off-kilter stories-- on the internet, tv, radio, in streets and shops, over food and drink, talking of how they hadn't experienced anything like it before. Most people told versions of the same tale:

“I thought it was the subway...”

“A huge truck rumbling by...”

“The boiler broke down...”

"I thought I was sick or something..."

“The neighbor's house was crumbling...”

“Someone was rocking my car...”

The story BECAME the story as everyone told and listened and retold and relistened. Some of my New York friends joked that people from California would laugh at all of us for making such a big deal. And many Californians did laugh, rolling their eyes at our near hysteria over a little “temblor” that appeared to have done almost no damage anywhere. To those who live in earthquake zones, we were like teenage girls hysterical over the newest boy pop idol talking to silvering beauties who, 40 years ago, fainted at Beatles concerts.

For those of us who have never experienced an earthquake, it was a moment of dumbstruck confusion. It was reminiscent of September 11^th, if only briefly, because of the absolute lack of context for so many of us. We had no idea what was happening AS IT WAS happening.  

How did people react?  Well, some just cried like babies during a thunderstorm, or like Mets fans in late summer.  Others whooped it up like helmetless daredevils racing motorcycles, thrilled to have had the (terribly pathetic) opportunity to cheat death.  I was in this group, of course.  Still others yawned, shook their heads at the commotion, and went back to work.

As a teacher observing this range of response, this is very interesting.

Give Some Love To the Newbs

You see, all of us quake newbs became what we, in school, ask every student to be: disoriented, clueless, and lost. Students learning new concepts or skills are often completely stupefied. And here's where we in schools mess it up. We see these stupefied kids as STUPID. Instead of seeing them as simply dazed, we see them as unable or weak.

In fact, we see ignorance as either "virginity" (which must be protected ) or "idiocy" (which must be ridiculed or destroyed). In fact, ignorance is merely a stage in the learning process.

Think again about the earthquake. Here is a case study on how people act when they are dumbfounded. It is a sneak peak into how people deal with a donkey punch of not knowing what's going on.

What are you like when you have no idea what's happening? When you've lost your bearings? When nothing makes sense?

The best learners are not good at mastering the material. The best learners are good at being lost. They get slammed with a new experience, are dizzy and confused, and then... they try to figure it out.

So, what am I saying this pansy little earthquake is telling us hysterical quake survivors?  What badge of courage have we all earned from this (lack of) wreckage and terror?

Embrace your newbness! You don't know what the hell is happening? You can't tell your arse from your elbow? Good! You're in the perfect place. You should get lost more often.

Now: learn, you moron.

Apocalypse, Soon

Our last, best days.

We're screwed!

Oh, sure, Harold Camping's Rapture didn't come to be. Along with many of you, I got a real kick out of imagining the “end of the world.” I mean, none of us really thought it would happen. But it was fun to pretend, wasn't it?

It's kind of amazing how much we all got into it, too.  It kind of took over.  Everyone has been talking about it.

I think we all enjoyed Rapture Weekend 2011 for the same reason we like roller coasters: it's fun to remind yourself that death is on the way, but not quite yet.

And that's what interests me: most of us, at some point or another, like to contemplate The End of Days. In fact, I would argue that many stories in the media depend on the idea that The End is near.

It's All Over

In case you haven't heard, the world actually IS still ending. Well, the world in which the United States is first-place is ending. The American Age is ending.

Even nature knows that we've already peaked as a nation. You can't escape the bad news, people.

In the few newspapers still in print, you can read about terrorists, the widening gap between the poor and the rich, the always growing threat of extremism, earthquakes, floods, oil spills, and superstorms destroying our communities. You can read about the enormous cost of the our military actions in Middle East, the tens of thousands killed in the drug war on the US-Mexican border, how fat everybody seems to be getting, and how our bridges and roads are falling apart.

On the internet, you can read about how broke everyone is (except for the people who are so not broke) or that public education is not working and that we should weep for our children. Especially our brown children. You can learn the costs of our unjust health care system and the of unemployment numbers that haven't been seen since the Great D (don't say the whole word; it's bad luck). You can read about the incredible and growing divide between the rich and everyone else.

On the tv, you can get your mind blown about the size of the deficit. You can also learn about how easy it is for kids to find jaw-dropping porn or bomb-making instructions on the web. About how the bees are disappearing and the glaciers are melting.

But that's not the bad news. The bad news is much worse.

I am talking about the sheer number of people who seem to believe that we're in the age of the United States' “Last, Best Days.” Capital letters and quotes. The whole shebang. It's all over, baby. Prepare to be second best in the world. Or maybe third best. The future will be all China. Or India. Or Mexican immigrant. Whatever.

Our greatest national strength has always been optimism. Our greatest strength now appears to be fear. Look at the last thirty or forty years of politics. The biggest thing that seems to get us out to vote (whether it's for Dems or Repubs or Tea Partiers or Rent Is 2 Damn High or whatever) is fear that the other side might win and then ruin everything.

Team Fear

Fear drives our culture. It drives our commerce. Everyone is afraid of getting sick. Of dying. Of getting robbed. Of litigation. Of growing old and ugly. Of becoming unimportant or uncool.

America has always had fear-mongering. It's as old as the Republic itself. Every generation worries that the good ol' days are way better than today and tomorrow.  That's not new. 

What's new is the open derision of hope-mongering.  The strongest message out there seems to be “don't believe it can get better.”

As we all have a laugh about the egg-on-his-face Harold Camping and his ridiculous followers, we may be tempted to be smug. How delicious it is to read about the crestfallen believers who can't comprehend that The End didn't happen.  "What a bunch of clowns," we might think.  "Fringe nutjobs!"

But I think the popularity of Camping's prediction says more about us all than we like to admit.  

For now, you'll have to excuse me.  After cleaning up from my awesome Rapture Party (sorry, I really meant to invite you all), I have to figure out how I'm going to pay for my retirement after Social Security is dismantled.  I also need a good plan to deal with my massive school loans-- anybody have a suggestion? Oh, and I should probably look for a job; there's no way my teaching job will exist in a few years.  I need to sell my car, too-- gas prices are way too high!  And does anyone know a reasonable place to move in Canada?  I'd like to have health care when I'm elderly.

If I make it that long.  Anybody have plans for the October Apocalypse?  Or should we all save it up for the Mayan 2012 Fest?

Your Life Is My News

commentary on Bin-Laden's death

So, Bin-Laden is dead. Pretty big news turned into four or five words.

And his name is now spelled “Usama.” Ok. Too bad I never got to use it while he was alive.

In our 24 hour news cycle, it seems like this happened months ago. We metabolize news so quickly now, it's hard to keep an eye on how long ago things happened. The Royal Wedding, earthquake in Japan, shooting in Arizona-- there is no shortage of significant but easily neglected events.

But Bin-Laden's death seems different than so many of these countless stories that just go by.  Take the Bin-Laden victory parties of a couple of weeks ago.

Last week, a student at Boston College sent me a video of himself and fellow students celebrating the night the President announced that Bin-Laden was dead.

It's quite a scene. The first couple of minutes are frantic, hand-held shakiness of kids running through what must be BC's campus, late at night. It's impossible to watch without getting a little woozy. The last couple of minutes of the video are easier to watch because the video is more stable, but harder to watch, too, because of the content.

Hundreds of college kids, mostly white males, are standing on tables and pajamas on tables in a large room of the school library. It's around midnight and these kids are going crazy. They are yelling and singing, waving American flags. It sounds like a party after a big sporting event and the kids look incredibly elated and wildly happy. They are singing together. They begin with the classic “na na na, goodbye” chant but, at some point, they segue into The Star Spangled Banner.

I had mixed feelings watching it. It was great to see so many college kids energized by something so purely political and patriotic. I'm used to seeing kids roll their eyes when saying the Pledge of Allegiance, so it was nice to see kids genuinely show some American pride. But it was also kind of scary. This wasn't just a celebration of America. This wasn't outside the White House. This looked a lot like a bunch of kids who had something to focus all their untapped energy on. And the thing they were focused on was the sweetness of revenge.

I thought to myself, “is it ok if they celebrate revenge?”

Then another thought occurred to me.

I wonder if American kids of a certain age aren't the most affected by this news (apart from those who were directly affected by the tragedy that day). Those who were from 2^nd or 3^rd grade to 12^th grade in September of 2001 must've had a unique perspective on the attacks on 9/11. They were kids grappling with the first major attack on the American homeland in the history of our country. Bin-Laden wasn't just a bad guy. He was the WORST guy, the opposite of Santa, the scariest dude in the world. His death is a paradigm shifting, world-remaking event for these kids. It's a huge deal.

Big enough to dance on a table, I'd say.

The death of Bin-Laden is a strange news event because it affects so many people in such different ways. For most, it's a big deal for a few days. But for few, it's a turning point, a milestone, an incredibly significant event.

But, then again, it's not really all that strange.

Every news story is this way. Turn on the news tonight or skim your favorite news website and there it will be: an astonishingly personal event for few and a "just another headline" for everyone else.

And that's what makes all news so complicated, so fragile, and so valuable.

Every life has a story. Every story has a life.

Cupcakes For Japan

We are what we do.

Last week at school, I talked to some kids who were selling cupcakes at a table in the cafeteria. A sign, taped to the wall behind them read “Save Japan.” I asked the kids how my buying a cupcake would save Japan.

Kid: “The money is going to help the earthquake..”

Me: “You don't mean the 'earthquake.' You mean 'victims of the earthquake.'”

Kid (a little irritated): “Obviously.”

Me: “Ok. So where's the money going to?”

Kid: “Japan.”

Me: “I mean, who in Japan? How will it help them?”

Kid (exasperated): “Why do you have to make it a big deal? They need help. Don't you want to help?”

We are what we do.

Quick question: how do people know what you value? You, personally. What would your friends say? Your family? Your coworkers?

Look first at your workspace. Perhaps you have pictures of your kids tacked to your cubicle wall. Some shots from a skiing/fishing/beaching trip. A little sign that says “no whining” next to a bobble head of your favorite baseball player. Postcards from Rome or Tierra del Fuego. A pricey paperweight. An autographed snap of a you and someone successful.

How about your method of transport? What do you drive? What's in your CD player/mp3 player? What do you read everyday? Do you workout? Do you have a routine that you follow everyday? Almost everyday? Do you switch it up, go on a granola/fruit streak for a while then switch to egg sandwiches?

What do you do consciously everyday? What are you deliberate about? Do you brush your teeth with the same hand everyday? Do you ever choose to be uncomfortable? Do try to do things differently for the sake of doing them? What have you stopped improving because it is merely “good enough?”

This is not an article about how we judge each other or ourselves. It's not about class or style. It's not about self-improvement. This is an article about value: what you value through your choices. You are an economy unto yourself; an enormous market study waiting to observed. What you can learn isn't limited to how you can improve yourself by changing your spending habits or how you eat.

You can learn what it is you actually value-- as opposed to what you SAY you value.

Walking In Circles

“Know Thyself”
-inscribed in the wall of the Ancient Temple of Apollo at Delphi.

My idea is simple-- and it's not even mine: many of us barely know ourselves. Our arguments, our reactions, our “beliefs” often do not line up with what we claim are our personal values. It's not a moral , religious, or ethical point I am making. I am merely talking about the effect of our actions.

I know vegetarians who wear leather. Pro-lifers who are for the death penalty. People who are for lower taxes but complain about bad roads. Anti-war protesters who want to punch hawks. People against Mexican immigrants but for cheap labor. And that's just the political stuff. 

What about bosses who encourage self-motivation but punish those who don't follow the rules?  How about people who are against "unfairness" but take advantage of others any time they can?  People who ignore strangers but have a war against impoliteness?

My favorite:  people who think kids are lazy and listless while they, themselves, read nothing, explore nothing, and challenge themselves on nothing.

When we act against what we believe, we subvert progress.  We make our conversations ridiculous. It's a freakin' waste of time and energy.

The cost of believing one thing and doing another isn't that we become hypocrites. The cost is that we can't really improve anything. We make things worse while we're not looking. We walk around in circles while thinking we are traveling somewhere.  We break the things we say we are trying to fix. It sounds a bit silly but:  we can't grow.

How much energy are you spending to try and bridge the gap between what you believe and what you do? How much energy are we wasting as a culture because we don't see what we are actually doing?

We can't help Japan by selling cupcakes. So why are we teaching kids that we can?