No, I'm not talking about the World Cup victory last weekend, though that's fine too. I'm happy because the winner of Sunday's presidential election was the candidate that will continue peace talks with the FARC and ELN. I'm not endorsing either him or his opponent, but I sure am glad that the peace talks, which started in late 2012 and seem to be unprecedented in their breadth and promise, will go on. In fact, my wife feels that the election helped the general Colombian public to realize that these talks are indeed going on, and that peace is still a worthwhile goal for the country to pursue, even if the war has been relegated to the sidelines of consciousness for many urban dwellers who don't come into direct daily contact with it.
So that's good news.
Economic development, current events, travel, sustainable living, and fatherhood, all from an agrarian perspective
Wednesday, June 18, 2014
Sunday, June 15, 2014
Living for others
This is an article thinking about your utility to society and to others at the hour of deciding upon a career path. It regards the idea of simply doing what you love to do as a somewhat selfish and elitist conceit. Selfish because it doesn't take into account how your work might best help others, and elitist because most people in society do not in fact have the luxury of deciding upon a career path based on their own interests, but rather have to get work where they can in order to fulfill their financial obligations to family. I think the analysis is pretty accurate; of course you shouldn't work in something that makes you miserable if you have some choice in the matter, but neither should you just seek your own enjoyment and self-realization in your work. We're all part of some social collective, from family to neighborhood to nation-state to the human race, and in order for everything to work, we should all be thinking about how to serve the collective. This would be true even in a well-functioning, universally prosperous world, since someone would still have to fight fires, or manage businesses, or treat illness, or prepare food. The fact that we live in a world that is still rife with problems and want and injustice means it is even more crucial for all of us to work toward a better future.
This point is repeatedly made in a book my son and I recently read, Liberation Theology by Gustavo Gutierrez. This is the original work that laid out a coherent theology of solidarity and human liberation, capturing and summarizing trends that had already been playing out in Latin America in the mid-20th century and galvanizing the thinking and action behind this way of living Christianity. I would like to do a more in-depth review and reflection on this book in a future blog. But for now I will just say that a central point is that, in the Christian worldview, the rightful vocation of humanity is to draw closer to communion with God through service and solidarity among human beings. Liberation theology claims that this process of communion with other people and with God occurs not just on an individual basis, but as a historical process over time, as humankind progresses to ever-higher levels of thought and technology (and ideally of solidarity and justice). I'm not sure if I agree with this modernist, directional vision of time or human progress, because it seems that improvements in living standards and in how we treat one another are often circular, not linear.
Another point Gutierrez makes is that this human progress, this realization of the Kingdom of God through the reduction of suffering and injustice, is the true measure of our fulfilling God's vocation for humanity. If this is so, it totally reframes the old debates among religions, or philosophies, or even science vs. faith. No, in liberation theology, the only relevant question for humans and for God is whether we are on the side of justice and human liberation, or of injustice and oppression. Our work to bring about the Kingdom of God is the only relevant factor that determines our salvation or our sin. Not our fulfillment of doctrinal requirements, or our use of or advocacy for or against science, or our belief in capitalism or Communism or any other ideology.
Closer to home, I am seeing the importance of service to others in guiding young people in their career choices. One of our children back in Colombia has been struggling in university. He can't quite find what he wants to do, and I don't know if it's because of this or just poor study habits that he ends up getting bad grades in a few courses every semester. At the same time, a grammar-school friend of his recently committed suicide. The kid left a note via Facebook that basically said he'd been bullied all his life, from when he was little right through to college. He claimed he'd striven his entire life not to hurt or inconvenience others, and frankly didn't understand why others had consistently ganged up on him. He saw his suicide as the last assertion of his freedom to act as he wished, to reject ill treatment by others.
I can't ever see suicide as something noble or desireable, but the plaintive call for basic human decency by this young man struck a chord with my wife and myself. Something like that reinforces my natural impulse to serve and protect the weakest among us. If I or anyone is able with their work and their daily actions to prevent such a life from being squelched out by intolerance or aggression, to allow others to realize their full potential, then that person will surely have done something worthwhile.
So if our young charge is seeking direction in his life, I hope the tragedy of his friend's suicide might serve to inspire him. The question he should be asking himself is, "What can I do to help others? How can I best serve the world, and in the process allow others to do the same?"
This point is repeatedly made in a book my son and I recently read, Liberation Theology by Gustavo Gutierrez. This is the original work that laid out a coherent theology of solidarity and human liberation, capturing and summarizing trends that had already been playing out in Latin America in the mid-20th century and galvanizing the thinking and action behind this way of living Christianity. I would like to do a more in-depth review and reflection on this book in a future blog. But for now I will just say that a central point is that, in the Christian worldview, the rightful vocation of humanity is to draw closer to communion with God through service and solidarity among human beings. Liberation theology claims that this process of communion with other people and with God occurs not just on an individual basis, but as a historical process over time, as humankind progresses to ever-higher levels of thought and technology (and ideally of solidarity and justice). I'm not sure if I agree with this modernist, directional vision of time or human progress, because it seems that improvements in living standards and in how we treat one another are often circular, not linear.
Another point Gutierrez makes is that this human progress, this realization of the Kingdom of God through the reduction of suffering and injustice, is the true measure of our fulfilling God's vocation for humanity. If this is so, it totally reframes the old debates among religions, or philosophies, or even science vs. faith. No, in liberation theology, the only relevant question for humans and for God is whether we are on the side of justice and human liberation, or of injustice and oppression. Our work to bring about the Kingdom of God is the only relevant factor that determines our salvation or our sin. Not our fulfillment of doctrinal requirements, or our use of or advocacy for or against science, or our belief in capitalism or Communism or any other ideology.
Closer to home, I am seeing the importance of service to others in guiding young people in their career choices. One of our children back in Colombia has been struggling in university. He can't quite find what he wants to do, and I don't know if it's because of this or just poor study habits that he ends up getting bad grades in a few courses every semester. At the same time, a grammar-school friend of his recently committed suicide. The kid left a note via Facebook that basically said he'd been bullied all his life, from when he was little right through to college. He claimed he'd striven his entire life not to hurt or inconvenience others, and frankly didn't understand why others had consistently ganged up on him. He saw his suicide as the last assertion of his freedom to act as he wished, to reject ill treatment by others.
I can't ever see suicide as something noble or desireable, but the plaintive call for basic human decency by this young man struck a chord with my wife and myself. Something like that reinforces my natural impulse to serve and protect the weakest among us. If I or anyone is able with their work and their daily actions to prevent such a life from being squelched out by intolerance or aggression, to allow others to realize their full potential, then that person will surely have done something worthwhile.
So if our young charge is seeking direction in his life, I hope the tragedy of his friend's suicide might serve to inspire him. The question he should be asking himself is, "What can I do to help others? How can I best serve the world, and in the process allow others to do the same?"
Saturday, June 7, 2014
Handwriting
This is an article about the deeper utility of learning cursive handwriting. It describes that writing in cursive demands and exercises parts of the brain that block letter writing doesn't touch, and vice versa. Likewise, it compares both forms of writing by hand to writing with a keyboard, which tends to require less mental agility and perhaps even to inhibit certain mental processes. The article's assertions make intuitive sense to anyone who writes a lot. For me, writing by hand (and in particular taking notes by hand) exercises different parts of my brain than writing on a computer, and gives me different ideas as far as how to express things and what to write about.
As a kid, I learned to write in cursive in second grade, after having learned to write in block letters in first grade. I did the required schoolwork and wrote in cursive that year, then dropped it pretty much entirely. I saw it merely as a school subject without much practical application; I never considered that one might actually use cursive writing in one's own life, because block letters just seemed so much more efficient and practical to me. This despite the fact that both of my parents have always written in an elegant, spare, efficient cursive.
More generally, I had and have always had pretty bad handwriting. It isn't chickenscratch; indeed, it is one of the most legible handwritings I've seen. At least it was when I was in grammar school; over time it has evolved as I've tried to make my writing more "efficient" and rapid, and recently it has become less legible as I rush to write everything. I am currently trying to correct this, taking my time to make sure that what I write is really readable for myself and any other audience. In any case though, my writing is not pretty by any means. This is odd, because I generally have very good fine motor skills for things like sports, working with tools or delicate plants, etc.
But after reading this article, I am motivated to stress learning handwriting with my kids, regardless of how much their schools relegate it to a secondary status. In a preschool workbook my wife bought recently, I have encouraged Caro and Sam to write letters freeform a few times after tracing the workbook's forms. And eventually I'll want Sam and Paulo to learn cursive writing. For myself, in a recent training course I've been taking at work, I've been taking notes in cursive and practicing all the letters, just like in second grade. After so long without using it, I really do feel it working rusty parts of my brain, and indeed I make errors and slip into block letters at times. It's fun.
This new attitude of mine towards cursive writing applies to other aspects of learning. When I was seven or eight (and for a long time thereafter), I dismissed cursive writing because I couldn't see its short-term utility. Indeed, I was almost proud of my ugly handwriting, because it was in acccord with my fervent insistence on prizing content over form or style. In the same way, I didn't take very seriously the "soft" classes like art, music, or gym. I was able to reason and argue pretty coherently that these things weren't important, and I'd been schooled to believe that I had a right to question and criticize such things. I regarded as invalid the counterargument that I would understand the value of these things when I was older. So essentially a mix of my childish short-term thinking and the arrogance of someone who is convinced that he's intelligent enough and has the right to question everything, combined to cut me off from things that, in retrospect, I think are very valuable.
Today I am a firm believer in the importance of developing your body, your musical sense, and your artistic criteria in school, in addition to the "hard", more core subjects. The gym, music, and art classes at my school weren't always particularly well-done, but if they had been, and I'd been more open to them, they could have really contributed to my formation as an integral human being. As it was, whatever learning I have in these areas occurred mainly outside of school. That said, what I thought were corny folksongs in grammar school music class have served me for singing to my children 25 years later!
While I don't believe in stifling a child's sense of questioning, of critical inquiry, and of argumentation, I am against fetishizing pure reason to the point where an elegant argument stands in for reality, where critical thought replaces common sense. It doesn't make sense to give a seven-year-old total free reign in terms of what he judges worthwhile or not for his education, because that child doesn't have sufficient referents and context to know everything that's important in the world. But just forcing a kid to learn things, or arguing that his youth invalidates his reason, isn't the way to go either.
I suppose that for my kids (and for any other kids I encounter), if they argue something that I don't agree with, particularly an argument that dismisses or invalidates some aspect of human existence, I will counterargue with reasons to demonstrate the value of these things. "You'll understand when you're older" isn't a valid argument for me, but neither is deferring to the rootless, ahistorical, short-term thinking of a child (or of the larger modern society, for that matter!). And the precautionary principle always applies--you never know when something that seems trivial, like writing in cursive letters, may be found to have deeper repercussions, as the article shows us.
As a kid, I learned to write in cursive in second grade, after having learned to write in block letters in first grade. I did the required schoolwork and wrote in cursive that year, then dropped it pretty much entirely. I saw it merely as a school subject without much practical application; I never considered that one might actually use cursive writing in one's own life, because block letters just seemed so much more efficient and practical to me. This despite the fact that both of my parents have always written in an elegant, spare, efficient cursive.
More generally, I had and have always had pretty bad handwriting. It isn't chickenscratch; indeed, it is one of the most legible handwritings I've seen. At least it was when I was in grammar school; over time it has evolved as I've tried to make my writing more "efficient" and rapid, and recently it has become less legible as I rush to write everything. I am currently trying to correct this, taking my time to make sure that what I write is really readable for myself and any other audience. In any case though, my writing is not pretty by any means. This is odd, because I generally have very good fine motor skills for things like sports, working with tools or delicate plants, etc.
But after reading this article, I am motivated to stress learning handwriting with my kids, regardless of how much their schools relegate it to a secondary status. In a preschool workbook my wife bought recently, I have encouraged Caro and Sam to write letters freeform a few times after tracing the workbook's forms. And eventually I'll want Sam and Paulo to learn cursive writing. For myself, in a recent training course I've been taking at work, I've been taking notes in cursive and practicing all the letters, just like in second grade. After so long without using it, I really do feel it working rusty parts of my brain, and indeed I make errors and slip into block letters at times. It's fun.
This new attitude of mine towards cursive writing applies to other aspects of learning. When I was seven or eight (and for a long time thereafter), I dismissed cursive writing because I couldn't see its short-term utility. Indeed, I was almost proud of my ugly handwriting, because it was in acccord with my fervent insistence on prizing content over form or style. In the same way, I didn't take very seriously the "soft" classes like art, music, or gym. I was able to reason and argue pretty coherently that these things weren't important, and I'd been schooled to believe that I had a right to question and criticize such things. I regarded as invalid the counterargument that I would understand the value of these things when I was older. So essentially a mix of my childish short-term thinking and the arrogance of someone who is convinced that he's intelligent enough and has the right to question everything, combined to cut me off from things that, in retrospect, I think are very valuable.
Today I am a firm believer in the importance of developing your body, your musical sense, and your artistic criteria in school, in addition to the "hard", more core subjects. The gym, music, and art classes at my school weren't always particularly well-done, but if they had been, and I'd been more open to them, they could have really contributed to my formation as an integral human being. As it was, whatever learning I have in these areas occurred mainly outside of school. That said, what I thought were corny folksongs in grammar school music class have served me for singing to my children 25 years later!
While I don't believe in stifling a child's sense of questioning, of critical inquiry, and of argumentation, I am against fetishizing pure reason to the point where an elegant argument stands in for reality, where critical thought replaces common sense. It doesn't make sense to give a seven-year-old total free reign in terms of what he judges worthwhile or not for his education, because that child doesn't have sufficient referents and context to know everything that's important in the world. But just forcing a kid to learn things, or arguing that his youth invalidates his reason, isn't the way to go either.
I suppose that for my kids (and for any other kids I encounter), if they argue something that I don't agree with, particularly an argument that dismisses or invalidates some aspect of human existence, I will counterargue with reasons to demonstrate the value of these things. "You'll understand when you're older" isn't a valid argument for me, but neither is deferring to the rootless, ahistorical, short-term thinking of a child (or of the larger modern society, for that matter!). And the precautionary principle always applies--you never know when something that seems trivial, like writing in cursive letters, may be found to have deeper repercussions, as the article shows us.
Monday, June 2, 2014
Colombia high, Colombia low
This is a happy day for Colombians. Nairo Quintana, a young cyclist from my family's region of Boyaca, just won the Giro d'Italia, followed in the overall standings by another Colombian. There were a few other Colombians that placed well in certain stages of the race, too. I think it's thrilling to see a developing country like Colombia pushing its way into fora that were formerly reserved for wealthier European countries and the US. If you look at the major bicycle races in the last few years, the leaderboard is all Europe, the US, some Oceania, and then there's Colombia! I'm not particularly a fan of watching cycling or any other sports, though I do like the idea of these big European bike tours over well-thought, scenic routes. But I am proud of Colombia, and I think its increasing presence on the bike circuit is a fun proxy for the rise of other lower-income countries as they rise to the same levels of development as their wealthier counterparts. As Joseph Stiglitz once said, it looks like the world is indeed becoming less a place of poor countries and rich countries. We are increasingly a world of rich countries (though sadly, as the second part of Stiglitz's quote tells us, these countries are full of poor people who do not partake equally in the general prosperity).
Quintana's victory is particularly happy for us, because he really is right from our area of Colombia. When you go through his humble hometown (I believe it's either Combita or Arcabuco) or the surrounding towns, there are banners of him everywhere. Ours is a simple, unpretentious agrarian region, so to have a local participating in and winning these high-profile international contests is really something new for us. Last year was a big deal when Quintana placed second overall in the Tour de France, and won accolades in the race such as best youngster and best mountain climber.
The good news from the world of Colombian cycling also counterbalances to some extent the generally bad news coming from our country right now in the presidential election season. The campaign has been particularly nasty, cynical, and sordid, with scandals, spying, and subtle threats of coups d'etat. The far right is making a robust showing in the polls, as political candidates openly align with fascist street gangs and cyberterrorists. It all threatens to derail the ongoing peace process with the country's major insurgent groups. This strikes home especially for my family, as some of the young adults in our lives have in their day flirted with and even belonged to such street gangs. I hope both they, and the country at large, does not go down the path of intolerance and everlasting war.
Quintana's victory is particularly happy for us, because he really is right from our area of Colombia. When you go through his humble hometown (I believe it's either Combita or Arcabuco) or the surrounding towns, there are banners of him everywhere. Ours is a simple, unpretentious agrarian region, so to have a local participating in and winning these high-profile international contests is really something new for us. Last year was a big deal when Quintana placed second overall in the Tour de France, and won accolades in the race such as best youngster and best mountain climber.
The good news from the world of Colombian cycling also counterbalances to some extent the generally bad news coming from our country right now in the presidential election season. The campaign has been particularly nasty, cynical, and sordid, with scandals, spying, and subtle threats of coups d'etat. The far right is making a robust showing in the polls, as political candidates openly align with fascist street gangs and cyberterrorists. It all threatens to derail the ongoing peace process with the country's major insurgent groups. This strikes home especially for my family, as some of the young adults in our lives have in their day flirted with and even belonged to such street gangs. I hope both they, and the country at large, does not go down the path of intolerance and everlasting war.
Sunday, June 1, 2014
New York Times Soylent
Here is an NYT article about Soylent that echoes some of what I've said in two posts about it, though from a more epicurean angle.