This is why kids don’t believe adults . . .

So I was doing some web-surfing, and I ended up finding about a computer game that was designed by a team of conflict resolution "experts" and interactive gaming professionals. This was funded by a federal grant, the idea being to teach children – at a young age – how to resolve conflicts peacefully, giving them the opportunity to play a game to do so.

The idea was intriguing to me – a good one, I thought. (*1) While I’ve been trying to come up with possible curriculum-adjustments to change the culture of our schools, this seemed like a great way to do it – without having to spend all the time and money to train teachers to properly carry out a curriculum. Instead, they can just put the kids on the computer and watch the learning happen.

Except . . .

Except, well – the game is a joke. (*2) An absolute joke. Poorly-executed in trying to mimic how kids actually talk to each other, which shatters a kid’s belief right at the outset. But even worse – the illustrations of "handling the conflict" and the end result are complete B.S. and simply representative of a fantasy world. (*3)

In a nutshell, the game shows a conflict. The kids can choose to resolve it "negatively" or "positively." The negative is something like just yelling at the other person or threatening them, or something like that. Then a voice says, "well, that didn’t work too well – that was wrong, how about you try another way?"

So the kid chooses "positive" and the character asks "that’s not nice, how would you feel if somebody teased you . . . etc." The "mean" character says, "yeah, you’re right – I’m sorry." And suddenly the conflict is resolved, the kid is rewarded points for choosing the "right" way.

And . . . um . . . that’s it. That’s what the freaking "experts" came up with. They got paid money for that. They continue to get grants to become even more knowledgeable about "conflict resolution.

If I need to break down why that’s so ridiculous and upsetting to me . . . well . . . I’m just not going to do it, because then you’re all beyond help.

And this is just one more shining example of how the cycle of systemic oppression works in our country. Tell me if this sounds familiar:

We’ve got a problem. A big problem. In this case, violence – specifically, youth violence. Who is most affected by this problem? Well, youth in poverty (which then further disproportionately affects youth of color). Okay. Facts established. Somebody sees this, or some version thereof, and decides to do something. Fantastic.

Whoever that person is somehow gets the government on board with a great idea – let’s try to reach kids where they’re at and design a video game that can give them positive experiences with non-violent conflict resolution. It’s a really good idea. The government puts aside some money for developing this game to get into the public schools’ curricula, and off we go.

Some panel or group of "board" or something chooses who they want to develop this game. Or maybe people bid on it. Whatever. At some point, some "leading experts" are chosen, and the game is developed.

Up to now, it all sounds fine to me. But the game is a ridiculous waste of money. So what happened? The idea was so good and we even got the leading "experts" involved . . .

Well – the "leading experts" seem to be completely cut off from today’s youth. Either it’s a generational thing, or a privilege thing, or something, but whatever it is, it is clear that these experts really don’t know what real life looks like, anymore. Instead, they stick to the dominant cultural party line: if you tell the other kid why they’re wrong and ask them "how would you feel if . . ?", then they’ll feel sorry. This, of course, is a middle-to-upper-class way of thinking. It’s generally a "white" way of thinking. It’s definitely a privileged way of thinking.

Because, of course, non-dominant cultural groups know that trying to stand up to and "talk things out" with the dominant group usually ends up in you getting dismissed, laughed at, ignored and/or crushed. For the privileged, dominant group – well, sometimes you can "talk it out" and have things work your way – because you have all the leverage. On a world-stage, you’re the bully. If you’re a rich, white, able-bodied heterosexual male, you can have all sorts of "peaceful" resolutions – because of the unspoken threat your power represents, standing right behind you.

In a kid’s setting – this sort of privileged, fantasy-world five-minute peaceful chat just doesn’t work. For any kid. The situations are so much more complicated than that – they involve insecurities, environmental stresses, home-life, cultural conditioning, identity-development – you can’t just have one, simple solution. Every single instance is a little different, and any true, non-violent solution takes time.

But you can’t program that into a game. And that doesn’t sound nice in a paper. So, somehow, these "leading experts" retain their positions and keep feeding us this same old ish – because they can, due to their influence and status as "leading experts."

In the meantime, our kids learn to ignore us when we say that violence won’t solve their problems. Because they’ve seen how we say they can solve those problems non-violently, and our solutions are such clear lies. They try out our "solutions," get crushed, and they’re scarred.

Kids continue to fight with each other, adults continue to tell them that "fighting is bad" without taking the real time to actually help a kid deal with their complex issues, and the "leading experts" earn enough money to live in a nice house.

And we wonder why so many kids learn to distrust authority at such a young age.

So – again – it comes down to representation. Until this country can learn what true diversity looks like – instead of thinking one or two "token minorities" in a sea of homogeneity covers it – this kind of thing will continue to happen. A good idea will get passed to those with no real-world understanding or experience, and another ball gets dropped.

Diversity of thought. Diversity of experience. With no outright majority. That’s the only way.

Because, honestly, Mrs. and Mr. "Leading Expert," how would you feel if somebody made all the decisions for you without ever experiencing life like you do?

Hmmm . . . somehow I don’t know if that sentence would be enough to change things . . .

(*1) Here’s the article in which it was first presented to me (makes it sound good, no?): http://www.sciencedaily.com/videos/2008/1208-cool_school__where_peace_rules.htm

(*2) Here’s a quick demo of the reality: http://www.rtassoc.com/gm_coolschool.html

(*3) The name should have tipped me off, but I was hopeful . . .

This is why kids don’t believe adults . . .

So I was doing some web-surfing, and I ended up finding about a computer game that was designed by a team of conflict resolution "experts" and interactive gaming professionals. This was funded by a federal grant, the idea being to teach children – at a young age – how to resolve conflicts peacefully, giving them the opportunity to play a game to do so.

The idea was intriguing to me – a good one, I thought. (*1) While I’ve been trying to come up with possible curriculum-adjustments to change the culture of our schools, this seemed like a great way to do it – without having to spend all the time and money to train teachers to properly carry out a curriculum. Instead, they can just put the kids on the computer and watch the learning happen.

Except . . .

Except, well – the game is a joke. (*2) An absolute joke. Poorly-executed in trying to mimic how kids actually talk to each other, which shatters a kid’s belief right at the outset. But even worse – the illustrations of "handling the conflict" and the end result are complete B.S. and simply representative of a fantasy world. (*3)

In a nutshell, the game shows a conflict. The kids can choose to resolve it "negatively" or "positively." The negative is something like just yelling at the other person or threatening them, or something like that. Then a voice says, "well, that didn’t work too well – that was wrong, how about you try another way?"

So the kid chooses "positive" and the character asks "that’s not nice, how would you feel if somebody teased you . . . etc." The "mean" character says, "yeah, you’re right – I’m sorry." And suddenly the conflict is resolved, the kid is rewarded points for choosing the "right" way.

And . . . um . . . that’s it. That’s what the freaking "experts" came up with. They got paid money for that. They continue to get grants to become even more knowledgeable about "conflict resolution.

If I need to break down why that’s so ridiculous and upsetting to me . . . well . . . I’m just not going to do it, because then you’re all beyond help.

And this is just one more shining example of how the cycle of systemic oppression works in our country. Tell me if this sounds familiar:

We’ve got a problem. A big problem. In this case, violence – specifically, youth violence. Who is most affected by this problem? Well, youth in poverty (which then further disproportionately affects youth of color). Okay. Facts established. Somebody sees this, or some version thereof, and decides to do something. Fantastic.

Whoever that person is somehow gets the government on board with a great idea – let’s try to reach kids where they’re at and design a video game that can give them positive experiences with non-violent conflict resolution. It’s a really good idea. The government puts aside some money for developing this game to get into the public schools’ curricula, and off we go.

Some panel or group of "board" or something chooses who they want to develop this game. Or maybe people bid on it. Whatever. At some point, some "leading experts" are chosen, and the game is developed.

Up to now, it all sounds fine to me. But the game is a ridiculous waste of money. So what happened? The idea was so good and we even got the leading "experts" involved . . .

Well – the "leading experts" seem to be completely cut off from today’s youth. Either it’s a generational thing, or a privilege thing, or something, but whatever it is, it is clear that these experts really don’t know what real life looks like, anymore. Instead, they stick to the dominant cultural party line: if you tell the other kid why they’re wrong and ask them "how would you feel if . . ?", then they’ll feel sorry. This, of course, is a middle-to-upper-class way of thinking. It’s generally a "white" way of thinking. It’s definitely a privileged way of thinking.

Because, of course, non-dominant cultural groups know that trying to stand up to and "talk things out" with the dominant group usually ends up in you getting dismissed, laughed at, ignored and/or crushed. For the privileged, dominant group – well, sometimes you can "talk it out" and have things work your way – because you have all the leverage. On a world-stage, you’re the bully. If you’re a rich, white, able-bodied heterosexual male, you can have all sorts of "peaceful" resolutions – because of the unspoken threat your power represents, standing right behind you.

In a kid’s setting – this sort of privileged, fantasy-world five-minute peaceful chat just doesn’t work. For any kid. The situations are so much more complicated than that – they involve insecurities, environmental stresses, home-life, cultural conditioning, identity-development – you can’t just have one, simple solution. Every single instance is a little different, and any true, non-violent solution takes time.

But you can’t program that into a game. And that doesn’t sound nice in a paper. So, somehow, these "leading experts" retain their positions and keep feeding us this same old ish – because they can, due to their influence and status as "leading experts."

In the meantime, our kids learn to ignore us when we say that violence won’t solve their problems. Because they’ve seen how we say they can solve those problems non-violently, and our solutions are such clear lies. They try out our "solutions," get crushed, and they’re scarred.

Kids continue to fight with each other, adults continue to tell them that "fighting is bad" without taking the real time to actually help a kid deal with their complex issues, and the "leading experts" earn enough money to live in a nice house.

And we wonder why so many kids learn to distrust authority at such a young age.

So – again – it comes down to representation. Until this country can learn what true diversity looks like – instead of thinking one or two "token minorities" in a sea of homogeneity covers it – this kind of thing will continue to happen. A good idea will get passed to those with no real-world understanding or experience, and another ball gets dropped.

Diversity of thought. Diversity of experience. With no outright majority. That’s the only way.

Because, honestly, Mrs. and Mr. "Leading Expert," how would you feel if somebody made all the decisions for you without ever experiencing life like you do?

Hmmm . . . somehow I don’t know if that sentence would be enough to change things . . .

(*1) Here’s the article in which it was first presented to me (makes it sound good, no?): http://www.sciencedaily.com/videos/2008/1208-cool_school__where_peace_rules.htm

(*2) Here’s a quick demo of the reality: http://www.rtassoc.com/gm_coolschool.html

(*3) The name should have tipped me off, but I was hopeful . . .

A Broken System, Part III: Fighting Words

I’ve talked about the obvious need for a big change (Part I) and given a (slightly) smaller-scale suggestion for changing the USA’s relationship to race (Part II). Now, in Part III, I’ll cover what I believe to be the education system’s single biggest contribution to the injustice of our society: the creation of a culture of combative communication (i.e. turning everything into a “fight”).

So, among my many annoying habits, I have one which a certain ex of mine absolutely hated. It goes like this: I like to talk like I know what I’m talking about.

A prime example? This blog. I write with conviction and little hesitation. I seldom use words that convey doubt in the veracity of my own experiences and opinions. I sit down at my keypad and “tell it like it is.” I state my argument, then break it all down, piece by piece, to bolster the strength of my claims and words. That’s how I do it.

And that’s how I wrote the last paragraph. That’s precisely how most politically-angled blog-posts are written. It’s how articles and essays are written. How speeches are given and delivered.

In the U.S., it’s called “good writing.”

We’re taught to do this. To be like this. The U.S. educations system takes pride in emphasizing “critical thought.” And, on the surface, that’s something that is truly laudable. (*1)

However, the problem is in the delivery – and the message that is hidden within that delivery. When we are taught to write and speak publicly, we are taught to compete. We are taught effective techniques to “win” our “argument.” We are taught that hedging and displaying doubt is not an “effective” means of convincing somebody of our right-ness. If we do acknowledge a weakness, it is only to downplay it or offer up how that can be “easily rectified.”

On the flip – when we “listen” to the other side express their own “arguments” and opinions, we are taught to look for holes. Find their weaknesses and expose them. Find their stronger arguments and figure out how to break them down and “defend” against them. All effective tools when trying to “win” an argument or get a good grade on a paper.

But – outside of the classroom – we think the same rules apply. To successfully solve a problem, we think one must “win” the “argument” to get people to go along with them. Our government is structured around constant “debates” where differing sides try to “win” people over to their side, so they can get the majority necessary to put their plans into action.

But solving problems is not a fight. When we employ competitive, fighting tactics towards “solving problems,” we end up defeating ourselves and no true solution can be reached. We just get half-assed measures that barely touch on a symptom or two, ignoring underlying causes.

“Us” vs. “Them.” The constant battle of dichotomy. Two sides in a fight, playing to win. That’s the “American way.” (*2) It’s the mentality of conflict, and the language we employ in describing it all is telling.

Our schools are cultural training grounds, where we condition our kids to speak as if they are fully right and have the most important thing to say, and that what other kids have to say is unimportant – just a list of “arguments” with holes. We specifically teach kids not to listen – hear the words and write them down in order to destroy their significance, never let them touch you. Meaning replacing understanding, as if they’re the same.

So is it surprising that adults are so bad at communicating with each other? Romantic relationships reduced to running battles of blame and “arguments.” Conversations between peers becoming two sides waiting for their chances to speak. “Listening” to a friend share their experiences, then invalidating them by telling them “I totally understand what you mean” and “proving” that by immediately talking about our own experiences. (*3)

Take that to the next level – politics – and it only gets worse. Everything is a “debate.” There are no discussions or real conversations. No listening or understanding. Simply endless loops of arguments, ending in a double-forfeit stalemate. (*4)

This is not progress.

And so I propose a change. Once again – within the school walls. “Crazy is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result.” We’ve been crazy for too long.

In the classroom, let’s teach true critical thinking – starting with the individual. Even the most perfect of souls is at least partially wrong – and understanding that is strength. Teach our kids to admit their own faulty logic – not to belittle or to defend – but to better understand the world. Critically examine our own beliefs, so that we may better empathize with those that can help us find cures.

Because the second part is teaching kids to really listen. To value other people’s opinions and to realize that even the most die-hard bigot is going to say something true and important. Listen to understand, as opposed to focusing on meanings and mistakes and arguments to be made.

And once we’ve covered those two, we reach the ultimate goal – true conversation, dialogue, and partnership. If you want to truly find an end to racism, you’re not going to do it by getting all your “liberal” friends to agree with you. You’re going to have to have some conversations of understanding with the “other” side. But you’re not going to be able to do that as long as they are just “the other side” – a group of people that need to be changed and “convinced.” So our kids must be taught to go into conversations with a willingness to be convinced. Not to “debate.” Not to “prove” or “disprove.” Just to understand.

And it can be done – if you start young enough. Kids all want to be heard – really heard – and they can tell the difference between being listened to and heard. They can also empathize. If you catch them before listening for meaning alone has been hard-wired into them, they can learn to value other people’s opportunities to speak.

And if you get to the kids, in only a few decades you will have gotten to all of the adults who make change in this world.

Again – this is not a simple solution. To do this right would be a logistical nightmare. To convince people to put this into practice, even worse. It’s a pipe-dream. But it is truly possible and could truly lead to a large-scale change in culture. And that’s the only way we can stop acting so crazy, thinking how we talk to and “communicate” with each other is ever going to bring about solutions.

It’s time for a culture-shift. A conscious, directed one. Top-down is never going to happen – especially not in a democratic government. The only real solution is bottom-up. It can and should start in our schools – but, barring that, I challenge any readers to do their part and let it start here, now.

Critically examine your own beliefs. Train yourselves to listen for understanding. Come to the table looking to be changed. Teach your own kids to do the same. Then watch the world around you take a different shape.

True revolution begins with a slow simmer at the bottom of the pot . . .

(*1) In comparison to other national systems that I happen to be knowledgeable of . . .

(*2) Can you all say "two-party system"?

(*3) Sad how even “being there” for a friend turns into a form of conflict (trying to argue how well you understand . . .).

(*4) Even on Racialicious, I read so many comments by folks who desperately want their own experiences validated; and in doing so, they break down and invalidate another human being’s experiences.

(*5) To finish it all up, and in the spirit of this topic, let me say here that I am likely wrong on some level . . . and my fear – that writing that completely negates this entire post – demonstrates the power of my own “argument-training.”

Movement

I just got back from a little "visa re-up" trip to Hong Kong, the Hawaii of China. On so many levels, my time in Hong Kong reminded me of my Stateside trips to the Islands, and I will be sure to cover that in upcoming posts (a sort of parallel to my "Hapa in Honolulu" series). However, before I get into that, I want to write on something that happened to me there (yesterday, actually) while it’s still fresh . . .

Sometimes, I like to go to art museums. And when I look at the paintings and drawings therein, I can appreciate the skill involved (I am a mildly competent sketcher and painter). I like how the visual arts can give a different kind of insight into the mind-set of a culture. I think some works of art are quite beautiful.

That said, I am seldom touched by visual art. In fact, I can pretty much say that I am never really touched by paintings, drawings, or sculptures. On a very surface-level, perhaps, as I appreciate the beauty inherent in a particular work, but visual art does not tend to move me in the same way that music or film can. I don’t come out of a gallery or exhibition carrying the paintings with me, thinking on them, feeling inspired by them . . .

Except – yesterday – I was most definitely touched by visual art. Moved by it in a way I may never have experienced before. (*1)

It goes something like this:

Before my evening flight (ended up getting delayed until the wee hours of this early morning), I had some time to blow (on a rainy afternoon) and decided to go check out the Hong Kong Museum of Art. I haven’t gone to any art museums here in China yet, so I figured that would be a good thing to do (besides, the Planetarium was closed).

I bought my ticket and checked out the exhibits. First floor – traditional calligraphy and landscape paintings. Lots of black, white, and gray, but quite beautiful and interesting. (*2) Second floor – porcelain and pottery from the various dynasties. Pretty cool, again, a lot of white, some blue, some earthy magentas. Excellent craftsmanship. Fantastic.

As I’m walking through these exhibits, my mind is rolling around a conversation I had had the night previous with a second cousin of mine over dinner: all about how scared of risk-taking and "being different" Chinese culture is, and the pluses and minuses of that way of being. At this moment in my museum visit, I can’t help but think that it shows in terms of the art – as there are so many amazing artists in China, but all I tend to see are about three very specific styles that aren’t so different from hundreds of years ago. Cool, in some ways, and frustrating, in others.

So I’m in this state of mind when I hit the third floor and its exhibit on "the New Literati." I read the placard explaining who this group of artists is, and it’s more or less as follows:

The "New Literati" are a group of Chinese (mainland) artists from the 80s and 90s. They were mostly born right around the time of my mother – as World War II came to a close and the Communists chased the Nationalists off the mainland. But this group stayed in China. And so they lived through the Cultural Revolution (which is something I won’t go into now). As artists, they grew up in an era where art was controlled by the government, and the only art for public display (pretty much) was "for the people" – namely, propaganda posters and statues in honor of various martyrs and heroes. And then things changed. Deng Xiaoping did his thing, and suddenly these artists were able to create art that actually expressed . . . The art in this exhibit was the result.

I read that, and I get intrigued. What kind of art am I about to see? I had been wondering where the "Chinese modern art" was – was this it? So I enter the first hall, and to the side is a painting, more or less "traditional landscape style," and I feel crushed. Damnit. Expression and creativity really has been done away with here . . .

And then I walk around the corner. And I seriously had to stop and catch myself – I literally lost my breath and had to take deep ones to calm my pounding heart:

I saw color. Bright, vibrant colors the likes of which I never see in this country of black, gray, dark blue, or white clothing. (*3) And I saw such different styles and levels of expression. People were the focus of many of them – "common" people, given life and beauty. Many of them popped out at me and reminded me of paintings I’ve seen from various indigenous peoples. Others made me think of revolutionary artists like Diego Rivera. Many of the people depicted were peasants, or indigenous ethnic minority peoples.

These paintings spoke to me. They lived. I went from painting to painting, trying to get photos to remember them by. Literally taking deep breaths and trying to breathe them in. To feel them. I ended up doing three laps around the exhibit, closely examining every painting each time around.

Afterwards, I desperately searched through the gift shop (I have definitely never done that before) trying to find some prints, or a book, or even postcards of these paintings to have and to hold (I failed).

So what happened? Why did these images rock my world in a way other art never has? I’ve seen stuff more skillfully-rendered. I’ve seen emotions expressed in rawer forms. Revolution declared in images.

But I realized – seldom, in this world, does somebody see art made for them. What I mean by that is that the art that gets front-billing in the world is generally from a different generation from the one in which the viewer has lived. It’s probably from a different place on top of that. And, if you’re a person of color or from another underrepresented group, the artist probably looked and lived nothing like you.

Even art made for the underrepresented world is hard to connect to, fully – because it still lives in its rawest form in a specific time and place. Diego Rivera’s images, for example (I use him because of the connections I see between what I saw yesterday and his style), can hit you. They are revolutionary and attempt to speak for brown people and their freedoms. But he still lived in a particular time. And although his themes certainly translate to current times, they just can’t speak the same way to . . . well – me, for example. Somebody out of time and space from his creations.

So to find art that hits home like this is so rare. Art that I can enter into a real dialogue with. This art was created by artists finding their identities and expression coming out of an era where that was simply not allowed – running parallel to my formative teenage years as I began to contemplate the world and my own identity in different ways. The art is so very Chinese in its genesis and roots, but with clear connections to both the paler and browner people of the world and their artistic influences. It’s about people and the simple reality of everyday life – the struggle, the joy, the beauty. And the color – the vibrance and ecstatic life of it all – coming out of dark, grey times; surrounded by a grayscale world. A celebration of life and survival.

Another individual will read it totally differently – but this is what I saw yesterday: a piece of China that was so much more than Chinese – and could speak to and for me, the foreigner with Chinese blood and a brown-hued mentality, without condescending, slowing down, or deferring.

I still have trouble breathing when I think about it. The excitement is still running rampant in my soul. I never believed that visual art could do this . . . but I have this sense of hope now that wasn’t quite there before. And I can’t explain why – or how long it will last. But it’s there. A celebration within, and the knowledge that even the most brutal oppression cannot break the beauty and fighting spirit of life.

This is what happens and how it feels when you walk through life never being spoken for or even directly to; and then having the most unexpected stranger suddenly acknowledge you and express your feelings and experiences better than you ever could. (*4) These artists, who I probably couldn’t even have a decent conversation with on a literal level (due to my limited language competency), just nailed my soul with paint, ink and pastels.

And it’s not something I’m likely to let go of anytime soon.

So this is my attempt to share it with you all. A positive, colorful image in a collection of bleaker posts. It certainly can’t move you to the degree in which these paintings moved me, but I hope it gives you something, a little glimmer in your chest, to help bring a smile on the uglier days.

(*1) Interestingly enough, the only other time I can remember feeling emotional about a visual art exhibition is when I was in Honolulu and saw an exhibit at the Bishop Museum focusing on the PIKO gathering; in brief, PIKO was a gathering of over 100 worldwide indigenous artists, spending five days together creating art, comparing their histories and styles, and doing collaborative pieces. I almost started bawling as I walked through that exhibit . . .

(*2) I couldn’t help but notice how many of these famous Chinese artists/monks had been warriors back in the day . . . fodder for another post I’m working on.

(*3) Everybody seems to own exactly one red piece of clothing (for good luck), but the rest is drab and lifeless. Ironic, since the gaudy, bright colors of temples and historic sites is enough to make a person giddy.

(*4) Check out my post on Kumu Kahua theatre for a similar experience.

(*5) These photos were taken with an outdated camera behind glass – they can never do the real art justice; they also won’t likely speak to my readers, but I have to share some of it, right?

hu yongkai1

indigenous detail1

watertown2

Avatar: the End of the World as We Know It

I’ve been sick and busy lately – so not a lot of posting. Got some good posts (in my mind) in the works, so stick around. In the meantime, here’s some more or less stream-of-consciousness musing from the CVT:

Okay. I saw "Avatar." I admit it. And yeah, yeah – I knew all about what everyone is saying about just one more "white savior" flick and all that. But it was in 3D. The next generation of 3D. And I wanted to take part in that.

So this post isn’t going to be about the movie on a racial/cultural level. Plenty of other folks have picked it apart on that level, and I have nothing new to add to that.* And no, we don’t need more "white savior" movies in the world, but this movie disturbed me on a totally different level (because it’s not like this movie is any worse than so many other "white savior" storylines), and I want to address that here.

It goes like this: the movie really was gorgeous, visually. The 3D technology really WAS that good. Like other people have said, it DID feel like I physically travelled to another world for this film. And that blew me away. I got a kick out of that.**

But it also terrified me. And made me really sad.

Because it clearly demonstrated our arrival in the next phase of the digital "future." All those pre-mature debuts of "virtual reality" have finally come through – because we’re there. In the making of this movie, the design team completely fabricated a believable (in a physical, mind-acceptance sense) alien world, complete with novel creatures and plants. It was eye-candy to the nth degree. But on top of that, it was in 3D that felt damn close to reality.

And, suddenly, the question hit me: does this mark the end of physically traveling to "sight-see"? I mean, honestly – why travel somewhere (like the Grand Canyon, for instance) to see it, when you can spend $20 and see it – from a better angle – from the safety and comfort of your own home (or a nearby theatre)? Hell – why go someplace on Earth at all, when you can go see a completely novel alien planet? Why meet real human beings and their cultures when you can "meet" artificial cultures which have been custom-designed to help you feel less like an "outsider"?

For the children of privilege born today (because, who are we kidding, we know this technology – or the privilege of traveling, in general – is never going to touch a large proportion of this world), what is going to push them to want to "see the world"? It will be impossible to make them understand why they should.

Because it’s hard enough as it is. And, of course, there’s different ways to look at this. If these privileged kids aren’t being cultural tourists and treating poverty-stricken countries as their playgrounds, that might not be the worst thing. On the flip side, though, I strongly believe in the power of exposure to different ways of being – to being outside the norm, learning other languages – and I wonder if the inclination to do so will lessen.

And the fact is – it’s already hard enough in today’s internet-connected world to truly immerse yourself in a different culture (Lord knows that’s a difficulty I’ve faced out here), so add to that the fact that kids will be able to get the awe of new surroundings without actually having to put in the effort to enter them, physically . . . The whole point and thrill and edification of travel is already so changed.

Then I start thinking about World of Warcraft, and what’s going to happen to kids who can now truly live in those worlds on a 3D-level. Why compete in real athletics, when you can have more abilities in a different world – without having to earn them and go through the struggle of working towards it? Goodbye physical health – who needs it?

I don’t know. I feel like some old man prognosticating the end of the world and "the problem with today’s youth." And yet, I believe what I’m saying. If I ever have kids, how am I going to convey to them the thrill of physical accomplishment? The satisfaction of struggling through the isolation and confusion and awkwardness of living amongst people that grew up under different rules than you did? All my greatest joys and achievements have come from me disconnecting, in some ways. Is that even going to be possible by the time my (theoretical) kids reach my age? If so, will they have any motivation to do so?

And, I know – every new innovation has a generation of doomsayers to go with it. We’re not all going to die. We’re not going to lose all of our moral fabric (not that I believe we have a lot to lose, anyway). But it scares me. I hate to say it, but the world changed yesterday – just through watching a movie. And I’m simultaneously excited and terrified to see what that really means . . .

* One thing, though – do you really have to combine EVERY non-white "primitive" cultural identity into one here, as if they’re all interchangeable (the Caribbean-ish non-native English of the Navi, with the distinct voice of a famous Native American representative as their chief, with SE Asian references in their cultural rites . . . come on).

** I’ve long-since mastered the "enjoy aspects of the movie even while your racial consciousness is being assaulted" technique.

Common Sense, verified by Science (links)

No, I don’t work for "Science Daily," but it’s a good one-stop shop for quick science-related news (and some good back-up evidence when people try to tell me I’m just being "overly-sensitive").

Non-verbal displays of racial bias on popular tv shows: http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2009/12/091217141310.htm

Awareness of racist beliefs makes kids of color perform more poorly (as young as 5 years old): http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2009/11/091113083301.htm

Ethnic pride improves mental health in teens: http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2009/11/091113083259.htm

Watching the news raises negative perceptions of black folks: http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2008/07/080717134527.htm

Broken System, Part II: “Diversity Training”

In the first part of my "Broken System" series, I addressed the need for a landmark Supreme Court decision to be able to adequately affect the inequalities inherent in our public school system. In response, the inevitable debate began: what would actually fix these problems? A lot of great ideas have been suggested. However, at this point, many of the big changes proposed would be hard to push through, even with government backing, due to the mind-set of our general society. This post offers a possible solution to significantly alter our culture’s relationship to race, which could lead to positive change within our education system.

As a teacher and youth worker, I’ve been through my fair share of "diversity trainings." And let’s just skip to the point and say that most of them are a big waste of time. They’re either too simple and obvious for people with any sort of awareness (or personal experience), or they’re too superficial to get anybody who really needs it to take it to heart. A couple hours of "diversity training" is never going to help a youth worker relate to kids of other races or backgrounds and/or get over their own sub-conscious (or conscious) biases.

The main problem, of course, is that these "trainings" come too late. Way too late. We wait until these folks are grown adults, with decades of experiences and ways of thinking behind them, and then we pretend that we can change their minds with some magical training. It doesn’t work like that. And we know that.

So how are we supposed to change race relations in our schools (and country)? How are we supposed to address volatile situations like the one in South Philadelphia High?

Well – what if we actually got over ourselves enough to talk to youth about it all? What if we directly addressed these issues? What if we taught our kids that talking about race isn’t a bad thing, that it can actually be helpful and positive? What then?

When I was in college, I remember we had a "Race, Culture, and Ethnicity" requirement. To graduate, we all had to have a certain amount of credits (I think amounting to a one-semester course) of classes pertaining to "Race, Culture, and Ethnicity." The idea was a good one – but the practice wasn’t so hot. I believe "Cultural Anthropology" (i.e. "hey, look at all those ‘backwards’ brown people") counted towards that requirement. Ironically, I actually argued myself out of having to fulfill it.

Again, though – the requirement was "too little, too late" to make any sort of real difference.

So my question is – what if there was a "Race, Culture, and Ethnicity" requirement throughout the U.S. public school system? What if, every year, as part of the mandatory Social Studies curriculum, all kids had to learn and talk about race? What if every kid in the States, by the age of 10 or so, actually knew the difference between "race" and "ethnicity"? What if kids were taught to have honest conversations about race – up-front and real – so they didn’t end up turning towards race-based affiliations based on ignorance? What if?

We live in a world where talking about race is assumed (by adults) to be painful and uncomfortable. Where a conversation about race or ethnicity or oppression is expected to be frustrating, and turn to anger and high emotion. Where both sides begin the conversation as opponents on the defensive, as opposed to participants in a dialogue.

Why?

Because we have been implicitly (and sometimes, explicitly) taught from a young age that that’s how those types of conversations are supposed to be. Kids aren’t stupid. They catch the body-language. The discomfort. The tension. They learn to avoid those topics, to suppress it. If they ask a question like "why does that child have darker/lighter skin than me?" they are shushed – as if difference in hue is a shameful thing, as if talking about it is morally wrong. They are taught to parrot the words "we’re all the same, race doesn’t matter" while simultaneously learning that race is a huge deal.

But they never get to talk about it. Due to our segregated lives, most kids don’t have somebody they know well enough of a different background to ask real questions about it. And so they – we – are left ignorant. We are left not knowing, not understanding . . . which inevitably leads to fear.

And when fear takes hold? South Philly High. The South Philadelphia community. The divisive battles about race that continue throughout our country.

All because we’re too stupid to just talk about it. It’s ingrained in the American culture. We just don’t have real conversations about race. We don’t talk to our kids about it. When students bring it up in class, we frantically try to avoid it and move on. Everybody is so scared of the topic of race, we continue on this path towards misunderstanding and injustice.

And the only way to change that – to change a whole culture – is to work with the kids. Start a whole generation of youth on a path towards understanding each other. Facilitating conversations where naturally curious 5 year-olds can ask each other – what’s it like, having different skin color? Do you do things differently than me because of it? So that, later, the 10 year-olds can wonder – without fear of conflict – do you really eat different foods than I do? Why? Why do you talk differently? Leading to the 15 year-olds going deep enough and knowing enough to say, "Wait a minute – we actually have a really similar background, in terms of the ish we have to deal with and overcome." Taking away the fear, the stigma, so that relationships (good or bad) can be based on commonalities and real differences, as opposed to the "unknown" fear of racial difference.

And I know – it would be painful at the beginning. Very few teachers would be able to do this right (because they’ve been steeped in our culture of discomfort, too). There would be some incidents. But if you started it in first grade, say – and then added a grade every year as the first cohort progressed – you could achieve some positive momentum. And by the time that first group made it out into the real world?

Something beautiful.

Not everyone would be super "aware" and "understanding." There would still be prejudice and ignorance. But, suddenly, you’d have a whole generation of adults trained to be able to talk about race. Which is the first step to finding solutions. And the possible solutions they could find . . ?

Certainly beyond this blogger’s realm of imagination.

* I have written this whole post through the lens of race, but this could easily be expanded (and should be) to include all forms of inequity and oppression (socio-economic class, religion, gender, sexuality, disability, etc.).

** I should also stress that I’m not exactly inventing the wheel here – many before me have proposed similar solutions, although perhaps not on such a large scale.

On the Flip . . .

An interesting cultural analysis, published in the same Chinese paper:

http://www.chinadaily.com.cn/life/2010-01/08/content_9287023.htm

A Ways to Go

In a sense, it represents progress. In another sense (just read the headline), it shows we’ve got a ways to go out here . . .

http://www.chinadaily.com.cn/china/2010-01/09/content_9293661.htm

Illiteracy

When I was a kid – middle school, I think – I remember watching a short film in my English class about an illiterate adult in the U.S. I suppose the intention was to instill in us the importance of being able to read, but – as I was already quite literate at that point – most of the message was lost on me.

However, I do remember one scene from the film quite well. The subject of the film (let’s call him "Henry" for now – I don’t know what his name really was) tells about how he was able to (mostly) get around his disability when taking public transportation by counting stops, or checking outside landmarks to know how close he was (because, of course, he couldn’t read any of the signs that would tell him where he was).* One particular time, though, he fell asleep.

I can remember the images on the screen, and the sadness and fear in Henry’s throat as he describes waking up on the BART** train, completely confused and terrified. It was late at night, he didn’t recognize any of the landmarks. He didn’t know how far he had gone. He had never been past his stop before (because of the difficulty of finding his way back), so he wouldn’t be able to figure out when his stop was coming (after he got off the train and headed back in the direction he came from) until after he passed it.

Obviously, he was able to sort it out. It wasn’t life or death. But, for some reason, I felt so viscerally his panic and shame when he missed his stop. He didn’t want to ask other people because he was embarrassed. He was confused and panicked. And that really stuck with me.

So it’s only appropriate that now – almost 20 years later – I’ve finally had a taste of what adult illiteracy really feels like. Because, of course, I’m illiterate here.

Completely. I see people reading a book on the subway, and all I can do is peer at the "strange symbols" and wonder what the book is about. If I can’t see the cover, I have to try to imagine if it’s a novel, or maybe a textbook, or something else. I go to a local restaurant (one without pictures) and order, and then they ask me to specify, pointing at one array of characters I can’t read versus another – so I randomly choose one, having no idea. At the bank, trying to send money via Western Union to a friend in Tanzania, I just stared at form after form, all in Chinese, trying to figure out how I could fill it out and actually have my friend receive the money . . .

If I’m late to an appointment of some sort (work, or class, or whatever), I’ll pass a bus stop, knowing that one of those buses will probably go right by wherever I’m headed, but I can’t read the schedule or list of stops, and so I have to just speed-walk on by, arriving late to my spot.

My first time at the major train station, I felt a twinge of panic – line after line leading up to windows with different characters above them – which line do I go to? Am I going to just pick one, wait the half-hour it takes to get to the window only to find out that I’m in the completely wrong line? At that point, my Chinese was so poor that asking wouldn’t have accomplished much – and I was embarrassed.

Embarrassed to have to ask. Embarrassed that I’m living in this country, have immediate family from this land, and still so completely unable to break the code that is Chinese writing and function on that basic level.

I’m illiterate. A concept that is laden with shame back in the States.

But, luckily, there’s a lot of English in Shanghai. The subway has a robot-voice. My Mandarin is getting better, so I can ask for directions and actually understand the response. I’m trying to learn to read and write.

But I’m still mostly illiterate. I feel like a child when I look at signs now – picking out the handful of characters I know, trying to figure out anything about what the sign says. Learning to recognize characters for locations I go to a lot (all based on pattern-recognition, as opposed to a real sense of "reading"). I can write my name, but I even screw that up, sometimes.

And so I find myself imagining the life of "Henry" back in the U.S. Where there is no "back-door literacy" (like how Shanghai caters quite a bit to English-speakers). Where he didn’t have the privilege I have (as a "Western" traveler, my money being worth more here). Where his illiteracy has to be a secret, a shame, that keeps him from being able to ask for the help he needs.

And that’s the problem with different forms of oppression in the States – how we use shame and stigma to make them even that much harder to overcome. Through socialization and the media, we convince folks in poverty that they should be embarrassed about it, decreasing their self-esteem enough to make it less likely that they even ask for the help to try and dig out. Victims of abuse (all forms) often are too ashamed to admit it. Somebody with an education so poor it left them illiterate . . .

All issues that – by and large – are not really the fault of the people experiencing them.*** And yet, they are the ones that end up feeling shame for their situations. Not those in power who create these systems. Not the people with money or privilege that choose not to do anything. All those truly responsible? Feeling proud of the "success" they’ve "made for themselves," while belittling all those who didn’t work hard enough, or who weren’t strong enough to be in similar situations.

And so I find myself really admiring those who attend adult literacy classes. Who fight through that shame and find the time (usually at night, after a long day of work) to try to learn to read (so much harder in adulthood). Having to figure out a new set of transportation routes, asking around for help (because they can’t just read an ad). Making up for the mistakes of an education system that lets that come to pass. People who fight through all that? The real heroes and "success-stories" of this country. So often ignored (or even belittled).

But never again by me.

And I hope that I can muster just a fraction of their courage and dedication while continuing to learn to read and write (and speak) here – especially when my motivation is lacking. Because there is no system keeping me from being successful – no real hurdles to overcome. So, in my particular case, if I don’t learn to read Chinese – it’s all my own fault.

You’ve got to appreciate the privilege of having only your own motivation-level to hold you back, don’t you? If only the rest of the world was so simple.

* This was back in the day before buses and subways started having robot-voices to say out loud what stop you were at.

** The SF Bay Area subway system.

*** Yeah, yeah – always exceptions, and everybody is accountable and has responsibilities, but come on . . .

**** The picture looks really neat, eh? It’s pretty much the equivalent of a child’s sloppy hand-writing of the A-B-Cs.