last post was my annual (or so) "starfish or system" rant. Because, like many Christians (and post Christians), I need to save the world, I get frustrated when I try to figure out what exactly to do. Three options:
1. individualized approach (help 1 person, then the next, then the next...)
2. structural approach (tweak the system and hopefully bring about broader results)
3. ideological approach (change basic assumptions/ideas)
The individualized approach is the most sensitive to specific needs, but it is also time consuming and can be easily undermined by structural issues or ideological issues. For example one could sink lots of time into helping so and so, only to discover it is nearly impossible for them to extricate themselves from a situation due to racism, sexism, cultural issues or deeply embedded problematic ideas. Furthermore, to use the metaphor, after throwing so many starfish back one can wish for a more systematic approach.
The social sciences tend to take the structural approach. They are interested in figuring out what is going on a larger scale, making adjustments and ameliorating problems most often through institutional means. This can have broader effects but it can also have unintended consequences. At worst it becomes human management that is over bureaucratic and insensitive to local conditions.
Lastly, the ideological approach is what philosophy should deal with (it doesn't always). This approach attempts to understand problematic often unrecognized assumptions or ideas. The hope is that bad ideas can be recognized, rooted out and altered/improved/replaced. This approach risks being abstract and impotent.
I have ended up in this last group and feel like I have gained some understanding of the problematic ideas of modernity, but am powerless to do much about it. So I tend to get fed up with 3 and want to go back to 1, but when I focus on 1 I run back to 3. By casting this in a personal light I suppose it may come across as whiny, but I think it is a fairly good mapping of the alternatives and the rudimentary pros and cons.
Wednesday, September 07, 2011
Friday, September 02, 2011
butterflies and stale air
"Forgive them Father for they know not what they do."
When DO we know what we are doing? Everything has unintended consequences. Life seems to be a cacophony of butterflies and hurricanes. Except perhaps when you want to stir up a hurricane. Then its all stale air and a dead end job.
We like - we need - to believe that we have control. And we do to some degree. We like to think we can do what is right. And we do to some degree. I think this is why we like to push our morals and our morays to the black and white extremes. I don't kill, I'm good. He kills, he's bad. It's almost always somewhere in between and it isn't hard to get lost in the haze.
God is going to sit me down, pull up an excel file with all the hours of my life added up and divided into general categories: I don't think it will be impressive. Somewhere along the line I wanted to get away from the petty neighborliness that feels so futile. Buy a tie for him, cookies for her. It is exhausting and people are dirty. There must be some structural shortcuts - something we can tweek and really get things moving.
Which battle to fight? little battles get little things done. big battles likely get nothing done. so getting anything done means becoming ephemeral?
Thinking about it all can paralyze.
Not thinking got us in this mess.
[Nothingman by Pearl Jam]
Once divided...nothing left to subtract...
Some words when spoken...can't be taken back...
Walks on his own...with thoughts he can't help thinking...
Future's above...but in the past he's slow and sinking...
Caught a bolt 'a lightnin'...cursed the day he let it go...
Nothingman...
Nothingman...
Isn't it something?
Nothingman...
When DO we know what we are doing? Everything has unintended consequences. Life seems to be a cacophony of butterflies and hurricanes. Except perhaps when you want to stir up a hurricane. Then its all stale air and a dead end job.
We like - we need - to believe that we have control. And we do to some degree. We like to think we can do what is right. And we do to some degree. I think this is why we like to push our morals and our morays to the black and white extremes. I don't kill, I'm good. He kills, he's bad. It's almost always somewhere in between and it isn't hard to get lost in the haze.
God is going to sit me down, pull up an excel file with all the hours of my life added up and divided into general categories: I don't think it will be impressive. Somewhere along the line I wanted to get away from the petty neighborliness that feels so futile. Buy a tie for him, cookies for her. It is exhausting and people are dirty. There must be some structural shortcuts - something we can tweek and really get things moving.
Which battle to fight? little battles get little things done. big battles likely get nothing done. so getting anything done means becoming ephemeral?
Thinking about it all can paralyze.
Not thinking got us in this mess.
[Nothingman by Pearl Jam]
Once divided...nothing left to subtract...
Some words when spoken...can't be taken back...
Walks on his own...with thoughts he can't help thinking...
Future's above...but in the past he's slow and sinking...
Caught a bolt 'a lightnin'...cursed the day he let it go...
Nothingman...
Nothingman...
Isn't it something?
Nothingman...
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Angry thoughts about what Josh dealt with, RIP
My best friend from High School, Josh Flanders, died last month in a motorcycle accident. I went to his funeral in AZ. On some levels it was nice to see people I hadn't seen in years and walk around the old stomping grounds. On another level I found my visit very disturbing. Many good things were said about Josh and I have many things to add to that praise, but I want to talk about the disturbing things for a moment.
The Arizona I grew up in was deeply racist. The Mexicans in sixth grade were mixed throughout the classes but they stuck to themselves. They didn't tend to mingle with the whites too much. All throughout my teenage years racist Mexican jokes were quite common. It would not have been an easy place to have grown up if one was a Mexican.
Josh was 1/2 Mexican. His father was white and left Josh with white skin and the last name Flanders. I didn't know Josh was Mexican when I first met him. He didn't hang out with the Mexicans, he didn't speak Spanish, and he passed himself off as white. I remember him saying racist Mexican jokes.
I found out at the funeral that Josh was born in Mexico City. This came as a shock to me, because Josh had always told me he was born in Utah. He used to tease his brother Jacob for being born in Mexico (when, I think, it was actually Jacob who was born in Utah).
I didn't know Josh was half Mexican at all until we become good friends and he felt comfortable enough to invite me to his house. Josh, his mother and his siblings lived in a Mexican trailer park. I don't remember any white people in that trailer park, although I'm sure there were some. Most of the people who lived there were Mexicans who worked at the next door dairy. I remember the Mexicans driving cars in the neighborhood listened to strange, loud Mexican norteno music. When I asked Josh about it he said he hated that kind of music.
The neighborhood always smelled like cow poo being next to the dairy. After so many good times at Josh's house, I now actually enjoy the smell of cow poo (I reminds me of then).
Clearly, Josh struggled with his mixed race status. Those of use who got to know this side of Josh were aware of how he internalized the racism and didn't broach the subject with him. It wasn't just the racism though. Josh's father was out of the picture by the time Josh was 14 and his mother worked hard at the dairy, but they were never wealthy. As a result Josh worked a lot. He worked construction, he worked odd jobs, he did what he could. One summer I worked with him in an auto-parts yard. It was the worst job I ever had, I hated it. It was normal for Josh.
At the time of his death he was 30, and was just about to graduate from college. Because his mother couldn't afford to put him through college he had to go it alone, as many people do. This was a long, protracted difficult endeavor. Josh was always in and out of jobs, in and out of school. As far as I know, to the end, he refused to apply for scholarships based on his Mexican status. We would argue about this, but he insisted that he didn't want to "mooch" off others. I insisted that the kind of scholarships that he could receive were made precisely for people in his situation. If he ever did finally take advantage of such scholarships it was very late in his life.
Josh had not only internalized the racism of AZ, he had also internalized the Protestant Ethic story that was universal among the religious white people in our hometown. This ethic insists that everyone work hard by themselves and largely for themselves. We shouldn't be dependent on other people. We should work hard. Don't take handouts. Work for what you get. The flip side of this is: don't give handouts. Make people work for what they get.
The western cowboy version of the protestant ethic is particularly virulent. It is very atomistic, by which I mean that it tends towards "every man for himself." It is very suspicious of government and strongly opposed to any form of redistribution of wealth, welfare programs, scholarships for minorities etc.
Josh didn't have a chance. He didn't want to be seen as a "mooching" minority. He didn't want to take handouts. So he worked like a dog and took ten years to finish a BA. Meanwhile, many of his friends, whites, pushed through college without thinking twice about how we were going to pay for things. We had our token jobs that assured both us and our parents that we were working hard, and they supplied the rest. This "rest" could be quite a bit depending.
Josh had a lot of self hatred. This self hatred, I think, was aimed at his relative poverty and his Mexican race. He didn't always articulate this. Only late in his life did he begin to come to grips with it and to overcome his rage.
---
Sitting at his funeral, I couldn't help but be angry while everyone sat around and talked about how hard a worker Josh was. He was a good example of someone who struggled through things and achieved his goals. Yes, true. But the very language which had victimized Josh was being used to praise him. This language also exculpated the rest of us from taking any responsibility for such difficulty. "Josh had a tough situation and worked hard." No one said, we should have paid him a little more than minimum wage when he worked for us. No one said, we should have helped him get through college. No one said, at the funeral, Josh is an example of how many people struggle through life and we, as a community, should be more sensitive and do more, much more, to help.
Many, probably most, of those at Josh's funeral will continue to support politicians and vote for policies that make life difficult for the poor, for minorities and for anyone who needs help. I like to see Josh praised, but I found it difficult to see Josh praised in terms that will also be used to deny others. It is sad for me to see Josh talked about in language that will also be used to support an "every man for himself" type of society. Josh was always very charitable and I wish we talked about him as an example of someone who did his best and yet who could have used more social support too.
RIP my friend, I wish I'd done more for you (even though I know you wouldn't have taken it)
Justin
The Arizona I grew up in was deeply racist. The Mexicans in sixth grade were mixed throughout the classes but they stuck to themselves. They didn't tend to mingle with the whites too much. All throughout my teenage years racist Mexican jokes were quite common. It would not have been an easy place to have grown up if one was a Mexican.
Josh was 1/2 Mexican. His father was white and left Josh with white skin and the last name Flanders. I didn't know Josh was Mexican when I first met him. He didn't hang out with the Mexicans, he didn't speak Spanish, and he passed himself off as white. I remember him saying racist Mexican jokes.
I found out at the funeral that Josh was born in Mexico City. This came as a shock to me, because Josh had always told me he was born in Utah. He used to tease his brother Jacob for being born in Mexico (when, I think, it was actually Jacob who was born in Utah).
I didn't know Josh was half Mexican at all until we become good friends and he felt comfortable enough to invite me to his house. Josh, his mother and his siblings lived in a Mexican trailer park. I don't remember any white people in that trailer park, although I'm sure there were some. Most of the people who lived there were Mexicans who worked at the next door dairy. I remember the Mexicans driving cars in the neighborhood listened to strange, loud Mexican norteno music. When I asked Josh about it he said he hated that kind of music.
The neighborhood always smelled like cow poo being next to the dairy. After so many good times at Josh's house, I now actually enjoy the smell of cow poo (I reminds me of then).
Clearly, Josh struggled with his mixed race status. Those of use who got to know this side of Josh were aware of how he internalized the racism and didn't broach the subject with him. It wasn't just the racism though. Josh's father was out of the picture by the time Josh was 14 and his mother worked hard at the dairy, but they were never wealthy. As a result Josh worked a lot. He worked construction, he worked odd jobs, he did what he could. One summer I worked with him in an auto-parts yard. It was the worst job I ever had, I hated it. It was normal for Josh.
At the time of his death he was 30, and was just about to graduate from college. Because his mother couldn't afford to put him through college he had to go it alone, as many people do. This was a long, protracted difficult endeavor. Josh was always in and out of jobs, in and out of school. As far as I know, to the end, he refused to apply for scholarships based on his Mexican status. We would argue about this, but he insisted that he didn't want to "mooch" off others. I insisted that the kind of scholarships that he could receive were made precisely for people in his situation. If he ever did finally take advantage of such scholarships it was very late in his life.
Josh had not only internalized the racism of AZ, he had also internalized the Protestant Ethic story that was universal among the religious white people in our hometown. This ethic insists that everyone work hard by themselves and largely for themselves. We shouldn't be dependent on other people. We should work hard. Don't take handouts. Work for what you get. The flip side of this is: don't give handouts. Make people work for what they get.
The western cowboy version of the protestant ethic is particularly virulent. It is very atomistic, by which I mean that it tends towards "every man for himself." It is very suspicious of government and strongly opposed to any form of redistribution of wealth, welfare programs, scholarships for minorities etc.
Josh didn't have a chance. He didn't want to be seen as a "mooching" minority. He didn't want to take handouts. So he worked like a dog and took ten years to finish a BA. Meanwhile, many of his friends, whites, pushed through college without thinking twice about how we were going to pay for things. We had our token jobs that assured both us and our parents that we were working hard, and they supplied the rest. This "rest" could be quite a bit depending.
Josh had a lot of self hatred. This self hatred, I think, was aimed at his relative poverty and his Mexican race. He didn't always articulate this. Only late in his life did he begin to come to grips with it and to overcome his rage.
---
Sitting at his funeral, I couldn't help but be angry while everyone sat around and talked about how hard a worker Josh was. He was a good example of someone who struggled through things and achieved his goals. Yes, true. But the very language which had victimized Josh was being used to praise him. This language also exculpated the rest of us from taking any responsibility for such difficulty. "Josh had a tough situation and worked hard." No one said, we should have paid him a little more than minimum wage when he worked for us. No one said, we should have helped him get through college. No one said, at the funeral, Josh is an example of how many people struggle through life and we, as a community, should be more sensitive and do more, much more, to help.
Many, probably most, of those at Josh's funeral will continue to support politicians and vote for policies that make life difficult for the poor, for minorities and for anyone who needs help. I like to see Josh praised, but I found it difficult to see Josh praised in terms that will also be used to deny others. It is sad for me to see Josh talked about in language that will also be used to support an "every man for himself" type of society. Josh was always very charitable and I wish we talked about him as an example of someone who did his best and yet who could have used more social support too.
RIP my friend, I wish I'd done more for you (even though I know you wouldn't have taken it)
Justin
Sunday, April 10, 2011
What I've been reading
Marxist Philosophy of Education
Post-postmodernism? Now this is interesting: Lipovetski is a French philosopher and seems to be the Zygmunt Bauman of France but with a twist on Bauman. He thinks hypermodernity is both good and bad while Bauman seems to be more pessimistic. Lipovetski examines the "logic of fashion" that drives (hyper)modernity. This is good stuff. His older book "Empire of Fashion" is on my list to read.
Dewey. 6 or 7 years ago I emailed Rorty with some questions. He recommended I read this book as part of his answer and I've finally read it. Dewey has too much faith in science for my taste. Too American. 4 or 5 more books from Dewey in my reading this term.
And the stuff for fun. This is a little too lite for me, a little on the Harry Potter side, but oddly compelling at the same time. i get tired of the genius trope. But it was good enough to get me to read the next one when it comes out in paperback.
Friday, April 08, 2011
Google Earth Eastern Oregon
I've always loved photography. Someday I'll buy a really nice camera.
Most of the time no one shows up to office hours so I spend my time looking around on Google Earth. lately I've figured I might as well save the cool pictures I find. If I can't take the picture at least I can look at the nice ones other people have taken.
These are all from Eastern Oregon.
Most of the time no one shows up to office hours so I spend my time looking around on Google Earth. lately I've figured I might as well save the cool pictures I find. If I can't take the picture at least I can look at the nice ones other people have taken.
These are all from Eastern Oregon.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Random Beautiful Places
Araucaria Forest, Chile
Real Del Catorce, Ghost Town, San Luis Potosi, Mexico
Chomolhari, China, just across the border from Bhutan
Kamchatka, Russia
Finger of Fate Spire, Hell Roaring Lake, Idaho
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Tuesday, March 08, 2011
Books I've been reading
Thumbs up.
Foucault isn't a great writer, but he isn't nearly as bad as other French philosophers.
Mixed response.
This won both the Nebula and Hugo award and deserved it. I was unnerved that science wins. Science never wins in Sci Fi. Almost always it is a warning about technology and science. But no, this time science resolves the situation. It took the wind out of the points Asimov was making about stupidity (The title is short for "Against stupidity the gods themselves contend in vain).
Two thumbs up.
People should read this.
Thumbs down.
I'm tired of bad writing. I understand what Derrida is doing, but I don't see why stating the point clearly is that offensive.
Sunday, March 06, 2011
Days that are past
I haven't posted anything on the blog in months.
I'm not sure why.
I think my days of traveling may be over.
Friday, October 15, 2010
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
