Tag: thinking

“Take the Other to Lunch”

If you’ve never seen Elizabeth Lesser speak, you’re in for a real treat. Have a look.

Her talk made me think about my own divided self.

On the one hand, if I want to be true to values I cherish, I have to live as tolerantly as possible. A good example of me being open to difference is the relationship I have with a Mike, the fellow who lives next door to my mother and a guy I always like to spend time with when I’m visiting in the little town of Big Spring in West Texas.

Mike and I are totally different in just about every way you can imagine. He’s spent his life doing very physical work in the great outdoors, and I have earned my living inside, in classrooms, where I use my brain more than my muscles. He joined the military and loves guns and hunting and such things. I, conversely, enlisted in the Peace Corps and am a pacifist who fiercely advocates for stricter gun control. He watches FOX news and I regularly read very progressive websites. As you might guess, we are polar opposites when it comes to most political subjects.

Still, every time I visit my mom, I spend time with Mike, often shooting the breeze while we sit on his front porch. For a little variety, we occasionally load up in his pickup truck and drive to a Tex-Mex restaurant for an evening meal of enchiladas and frijoles. Every time we participate in such an outing, we are putting Lesser’s “initiative” to the test.

On the other hand, I know that Mike is very likely a fan of Donald Trump and those of his ilk. I certainly have heard him say things that were very Trumpish. When he does so, I always squirm and feel extremely uncomfortable. That part of me that champions tolerance argues that I should look past what he’s said and focus on those aspects of his personality that are good. Plus, I was raised by old-fashioned parents who instilled in me the importance of being polite. As a result, I find it very difficult to confront others even when they say things that offend me. I suppose this turning of a blind eye is a kind of goodness. Keeping my mouth shut, though, always makes me feel like a sellout.

Getting back to Lesser’s talk, I’d like to add one suggestion to her list of guidelines to follow when taking “the other” to lunch. When you’re with that person, look for common ground—it could be something as simple as an activity you both enjoy doing—and build on it. In my case, Mike and I both grew up in Big Spring, Texas, and we’ve found, over the years, that it’s possible to spend hours talking about our fondest recollections of the place. This sense of shared history has brought us much closer together than we otherwise would have been.

As Lesser correctly points out, these truly are dangerous times. There is way too much “otherizing” going on right now. If we’re not careful, bigotry can become all-consuming and then we’ll find ourselves in a dark place, one hard to escape from.

 

 

Waking Up

on the riverwalk

It’s been really hard to shake the feeling that I’ve just woken up from a really long sleep. That’s because these recent weeks seem so dreamlike, so unreal, or perhaps, even surreal.

Just about eleven weeks ago to the day, I got word that a company that hires civilian contractors for the US military was interested in employing me to do educational work of an intercultural sort. This news came suddenly, while I was visiting my sick grandmother in West Texas. The job offer came with one stipulation—that my wife and I relocate to San Antonio, Texas, within a matter of days.

So we packed up, quickly. We were only able to take with us the few things we could fit into our Subaru. I managed to get online and was able to reserve a room in a place called Studio 6 Extended Stay—an old Motel 6 facility that had decked out a number of its rooms with kitchens and cooking utensils.

We moved into the place, bought groceries to fill up our fridge. The following day, I started one of the most intense orientation and training programs—along with seven other trainees—ever devised by human beings. I arrived at my new workplace a few minutes after 6 a.m. each morning. Our days were filled with “briefings” and then we did all sorts of practice teaching that was observed by a large number of people who wrote up reports on what they’d seen us do. We were like lab rats sent running through mazes in search of chunks of cheese. Not all of us passed these early tests. It was boot camp for teachers and some of us were let go before the real work even got started.

I find it incredibly hard to believe that it’s been a touch less than three months since we arrived in San Antonio. In some ways, it seems like a year or more has gone by. In other ways, it seems like mere days.

I’ve been mostly exhausted since all this got started. Finally, though, I’m beginning to catch my breath. I’ve even started to wake up from this dream-state I’ve been in. I’ve mostly been in survival mode, just doing those basic things that each day required of me, but now I’m beginning to think about writing. The old creative juices are beginning to flow again. This means more blogging—of a regular sort—is in the offing.

The photo I’ve included, at the outset of this piece, is a nice one and full of symbolism. It was one of the earliest ones I took in San Antonio—on one of our visits to the city’s famed Riverwalk, downtown. In it, Azza and I have just stepped across a threshold and a dome-shaped ceiling can be seen overhead. Behind us is a wall, a waterfall, and the past. We are wearing shades as we are looking forward, toward the camera, into a bright future. We are smiling and wearing expressions of expectation. Something about us in the photo suggests that we are travelers or explorers, embarking on a sojourn that will provide plenty of wonderful surprises.

 

My Recent Twitter Spat with a Conservative

I don’t post very much on Twitter. That’s mostly because I find it very hard to say what I want in only 140 characters—I’m generally more expansive than that. So I enjoy lurking there. It’s immediate and allows all sorts of voices, which I like.

Having said that, some voices bother me more than others do. Bigots and political conservatives are two of the bothersome kinds of people I see posting on Twitter. Actually, not surprisingly, bigotry and conservatism often go hand in hand. It’s not that I believe that such people should keep their mouths shut. It’s just I wish they would take the time to think a bit before tweeting. Or, if that’s too much to ask, then to make sure they don’t post things that are factually incorrect.

I see so many posts about Obama being a secret Muslim and/or Supporter of Terrorists and/or Communist and /or Socialist. Ninety-nine percent of the time I just roll my eyes and ignore such gibberish. It’s not that I’m in love with Obama and thus want to scream at people who say bad things about him. Actually, I’ve said plenty of bad things myself. But I generally try to make sure my criticisms are not based on obvious falsehoods and misrepresentations of reality.

I recently saw a tweet by a woman named “J_.” According to her profile, she hails from Texas and describes herself as a “conservative” and “libertarian” who loves “America,” “the military,” “guns,” and so on and so forth. In her tweet she said we have to remember that Obama “supported the Muslim Brotherhood” during their time in power. And then she included a link to this article.

I read the whole piece, including this paragraph, the sixth one, which I’ve cut and pasted below:

“Upon further inspection though, it seems that while the Egyptian qualms hold some water, the American complaints appear to be more recognizable as mere partisan discourse. The money, said to be intended for the MB, is actually for the Egyptian military and is obligated to be used to pay U.S. defense and security companies providing equipment and support for the military, according to the Guardian.”

I immediately stopped reading and tweeted a response. I asked her, “Did you even read the article?” Of course, I was not surprised by the information in paragraph six. Anyone who knows even the most basic facts about America’s aid to Egypt knows that the vast majority goes to the military, thus allowing them to buy all sorts of new equipment, a cute way of funneling money into the coffers of American companies that build armaments and such. Furthermore, since it was the armed forces that removed Mohamed Morsi from power, it can very easily be argued that by giving aid to this group, the US government played a key role in the overthrowing of Morsi and the Muslim Brotherhood.

Of course, coming to these kinds of conclusions requires a careful examination of the facts of the case and the ability to do nuanced thinking. J_ seemed either unwilling or incapable of doing either of these things. Or perhaps she was aware she was deliberately distorting the evidence and simply wanted to smear Obama. The most likely explanation is that J_ was simply too intellectually lazy to read the entire article and thus missed the key sixth paragraph.

To make a long story short, after about three more exchanges, she blocked me. Before doing that, she tweeted a response that included the hashtag #LiberalLies. Not surprisingly, she failed to see the hypocrisy of her tweet. So I pointed it out to her and then created a hashtag of my own—#ConservativeLies.

I tell this story because J_ seems to be a typical case. Conservatives very frequently seem to view facts and evidence as of little importance. They build elaborate arguments based on hunches, prejudices, things they heard their neighbor say, or whole cloth. Do you remember how George W. Bush used to talk about “thinking” with his gut?

This recent twitter exchange has got me wondering. Perhaps we progressives need to start being a lot more aggressive in confronting distortions of the sort I’ve written about here? Because we are generally tolerant people, perhaps we take it on the chin too often without punching back? Maybe, given what we’re up against, we have to start being as pugilistic as the other side?

The Resolve to Evolve

I am a learner. And a teacher. This video reminded me of these facts about my life. It also reminded me what learning is all about and how important it is—or how important it should be—to each one of us, individually, and to the nation, as a collective.

I grew up in small towns in Texas. My upbringing was “typical,” meaning that my family, those people who got first shot at shaping me, were fairly conventional in their thinking and behavior. When I got old enough, I was sent to public schools and had an early education that was structured around official state curricula. I did well, made top grades, and was recognized as a young person with potential. This recognition meant nothing more than I had successfully acquired the knowledge and skills the authorities had wanted me to acquire.

I graduated and went off to a little school called Angelo State University in San Angelo, Texas. I enrolled in the normal courses students are supposed to take. Then, in my second year, I did something that would change my life forever. I had a chance to choose an elective, so I registered for a class called Introduction to Philosophy.

Taking that first philosophy course was the beginning of the end of my childhood. Up until that moment, my intellect had been carefully managed by all sorts of authority figures, none of whom were interested in exposing me to anything more than mainstream thinking, which is another way of saying “conventional wisdom.” As a child, I had been led to believe that the world of ideas was only so big, when, in fact, it was actually infinitely large. It’s like I had spent my entire lifetime locked in a little room and had been led to believe that that there was nothing more than this tiny space. Philosophy showed me the door leading out of that room. Once I opened it, I could see how imprisoned I had been.

America, in its political thinking, is a bit like I was before I was exposed to philosophy. Too many of its citizens believe that the way things have always been done is the only way things can be done. These worshippers at the altar of the status quo are holding the nation back.

In the upcoming election, Bernie Sanders is playing the role my first philosophy teacher played. He is exposing the nation to ideas and truths that are certain to make some people uncomfortable. But America needs someone to drag it into the twenty-first century. The nation needs to grow and expand its thinking in many areas. Bernie Sanders appears to be the person with enough insight, courage, and conviction to accomplish this noble task.

Thom Hartmann used the term “revolution” in the introduction to the clip I’ve included, but I think “evolution” is the more appropriate word. Sanders is trying to help the nation evolve in its thinking. Of course, once this evolution occurs, a revolution is bound to follow.

Bleeding

sleepless in Cairo

Thinker Boy took this picture of himself at an unknown hour last night. He used the camera built into his Lenovo Yoga 2 computer.

He should have been sleeping at the time. Instead, he was up roaming around in the dark. He started his nocturnal wandering by peering out his living room window and then the idea of taking a selfie was born in his brain, immaculate-conception style. So he grabbed up the Lenovo and did the deed. He liked the way the ordinary light became this lurid orange hue. It reminded him of the hell he was in because of the insomnia.

He couldn’t sleep because his mind was too active as it often is. His body kept trying to dissolve into the mattress and it got close, too, quite a few times. But then, just at the last second, an idea would swim into the dark water of his mind, its swishing tail creating big enough ripples to rouse him.

Thinker Boy is a thinker, as his name makes clear. Thinking has saved him, time and time again. It has showed him the way when all was dark.

Thinking is a double-edge sword, though. Last night, one of those edges caused Thinker Boy to lose a little blood.