Goal of education

I just read this quote after reading a blog that discussed the documentary, Waiting for Superman, which is about schooling in the US.  I liked this quotation so much, I thought I'd share it with you.
 
Psychologist, Jean Piaget said: The principal goal of education in the schools should be creating men and women who are capable of doing new things, not simply repeating what other generations have done; men and women who are creative, inventive and discoverers, who can be critical and verify, and not accept, everything they are offered.”

An article in the newspaper, The Chronicles of Higher Education about the case for books in our digital world reminded me of what we are doing in our blog: making connections, making new forms of knowledge:

Even if a book is published or disseminated in digital form, freed from its materiality, that shaping case of the codex is the ghost in the knowledge-machine. We are the case for books. Our bodies hold the capacity to generate thousands of ideas, perhaps even a couple of full-length monographs, and maybe a trade book or two. If we can get them right, books are luminous versions of our ideas, bound by narrative structure so that others can encounter those better, smarter versions of us on the page or screen. Books make the case for us, for the identity of the individual as an embodiment of thinking in the world. The heart of what even scholars do is the endless task of making that world visible again and again by telling stories, complicated, nuanced, subtle stories that reshape us daily so that new forms of knowledge can shine out.

William Germano is dean of the faculty of humanities and social sciences at Cooper Union for the Advancement of Science and Art. A longer version of this essay was presented as a talk at the annual meeting of the Association of American University Presses this summer.

Mr. Independent

Freshman year is something I consider to be a transitional period, or even a temporary home. I leave a home of 18 years, for less than a year, before I go on an adventure for 2 years, then move from place to place until I finally settle in a home of my own.

I came up to BYU for this past summer semester, and had no idea what to expect. I lived in the same home, in the same bedroom for 18 years. I went to a small private K-8 school and a small private high school. I was sure that I was going to be shocked and homesick as soon as I left to attend a massive public college; however it was quite the contrary: the more I remembered home, the less homesick I was.

I love being on my own. I can drive, sleep, eat, wake up, do homework, not do homework, go out, stay in, and do anything at my own leisure. I thought I might crash and burn, and I thought I would miss the order and form I had in my life previously, but I didn't, and I still don't.

In fact, I developed a whole schedule and already have certain habits here in this 'temporary home'. For example, I wake up the same time on certain days, take a nap on Mondays and Wednesdays, go to Taco Bell on Tuesdays and Thursdays, sleep in until lunch on Fridays, and do laundry every other saturday morning. Its something I thought I would never be able to get used to.

Now, I do miss home, sometimes. But not the things I would expect. I don't miss many of my friends, and I don't miss my bed or bedroom. I don't miss high school and I (forgive me mom) barely even miss my mom. I do miss certain restaurants, and the weather, and the beach. I miss my cat and I miss my car. These things are trivial and will be displaced.

I should really focus on how I am really free of any rules or responsibilities, and this is the first dip I have into the real world. Its a prime set up for a learning experience everyday, and I'm taking advantage of it.

To Be...Or Not To Be

I often wonder what it truly means to be an American citizen. Those from many diverse backgrounds sometimes base their lives on American lifestyles; many spend great amounts time and energy in their pursuit to either learn English and/or become an American citizen. I pose the intriguing question to myself as i enjoy my several liberties: why? Why America when we, as civilians, hardly ever get what we want and blame our government for all of our ailments do fathers, mothers and children try their absolute hardest to join our community that we can scarcely bear to live in?

As I spot these individuals, I gaze with admiration and awe. What journey did they have to go through to be where they are now? Will their families left behind rejoice when the first of their generation touches American soil? After some careful consideration, I realized that what American represents is freedom and hope. It represents the many liberties that we take for granted and the vast opportunities that we have in order to live a happy and successful life. It makes me feel small when I consider that many are born both into this language and into this country (granting them citizenship) while others study years and make much sacrifice to be here. So what does it really mean to be an American? It means promised blessing and so much more, but as Warshwsky says, "yet one thing is certain: If we stray too far from the lines laid down by the Founding Fathers and the generations of great American men and women who built on their legacy, we will cease to be "Americans" in any meaningful sense of the word. As Abraham Lincoln warned during the secession era, "America will never be destroyed from the outside. If we falter and lose our freedoms, it will be because we destroyed ourselves."

A Morning Jog

It had been about a month since I last went on a run and since the last thing I wanted was to gain the famous "Freshman 15" I decided that I better get back into my routine. I put on my shoes, donned my headphones and walked out the door. It was a beautiful day for a jog and I was excited to start running again. About two minutes into my run, however, I was already panting and breathing heavy.

"Last time I ran, I don't remember it being so difficult," I thought to myself.

I pushed through the pain, telling myself it would get easier; i was, indeed, mistaken. In a matter of minutes I was sweating profusely, totally out of breath, and defeated. I reduced speed to a steady walk as I tried to grasp the concept of why I was in such bad shape. And then a lightbulb went off in my head; an epiphany if you will. To be good and excel at something you have to continually and consistently work on it. I expected, after 30 days of not running, to go out and run a marathon. It doesn't work that way. You can't just take a break, like I did, and expect to start right where you left off.

I've been on a run since that day and, although it hasn't been long, I can already feel the results I'm getting from consistently working towards my goal. Maybe after a week or so, I won't be dying after such a short jog.

Linguistic major

Language is an interesting thing. It is how we communicate and share ideas, come to the same conclusions, and learn together. I thought I was only learning one foreign language this semester, but as it turns out I am enrolled in two: French and chemistry. Yet, as I have taken many chemistry classes in my years of schooling, I find that this is more familiar to me and easier to speak. I can speak in math and numbers, symbols and equations. Yet as I sit in my French class I often find myself wondering if he actually thinks there is any way I have begun to comprehend the conundrum of syllables he just uttered at me, or how in the world he thinks I will be able to answer the question appropriately. But then as I was discussion the previous nights chemistry homework with a classmate, in the presence of my friend who is not fluent in the language of chemistry, I saw the same look of dazed confusion that I often wear in my French (101 mind you) class painted across the face of my friend. It was then that it occurred to me that there are many foreign languages that encompass us everyday, and so many that we must become fluent in before we leave the university. In a sense, we are all linguistic majors. And once we have left, we have more dialects to tackle as there is always another language out there to learn, whether it is of the tradition definition, or as in the case of my second language chemistry, a much more nonconventional obstacle.

Foreigns, Natives, and Everyone Inbetween

Growing up in Naperville, a suburban area just south of Chicago, there was something I learned in elementary school that was never taught or even discussed. In our kindergarten class alone, there was a boy from Pakistan who always wore a turban (named Omar), a few Chinese children, a friend whose parents were from Italy (named Mario), and several other ethnicities. Apart from differing parental expectations and religious views, the differences didn't phase us; we seemed to not notice them. Except for Omar's fascinating turban, no one even pointed out the different natures that had been passed on from our parents, and some kids lightly struggled as they established their bilingualism - the language they spoke at school was one their parents only partly knew. Even in 4th grade, as I sat across from Muhammad (who had immigrated from India about a year ago) we all spoke English, and we all had at least once laughed hard enough to have milk come out of our nose at lunchtime. The majority of the population was still Caucasian, but skin color or accent didn't account for much, and everyone spoke comprehensible English.

It was rather unfortunate for me to learn that this was not a common attribute among the states. I moved to similarly suburban Kansas, and don't get me wrong, the people were nice, if not nicer, yet it was difficult to see when ethnic stereotypes held true. In any social group, about 90% of the members would be of a single ethnicity. Because of this grouping together, some people scarcely learned English. It was not a social faux pas to talk to someone of a different ethnicity, but it was difficult. It was clear that there were separate cultures, and that by putting together what someone wore with their skin color, you could estimate their grades, economic condition, how much English they know, and whether they would be a blue collar or white collar worker. That is probably true lots of places you go, but it was painful to see the social groups of consensual laziness, as well brilliant people that were simply ignored because of belonging to a different culture, such as Shaily, whose 85% grades in India were stellar for her classes, which she called as difficult as the AP tests, yet translated to B's when she moved to the United States. She proved more intelligent than the top of the class that was around her, but the Office of Grades and Records showed no mercy, and few even knew her name. Nonetheless, I would be surprised if there was anyone among us that could not associate with seeing these different social groups after a brief recollection of high school.

But the situation I first described is the one I hold ideal. We will only see more and more cultures, with some which we will naturally disagree, but as we encounter people with unusual accents and strange customs, we must remember the human nature that unites us to assist one another in our labors and make one another's burden lighter. As we compete domestically and internationally, in politics, education, and culture, it will be important for us to remember the essence of humanity, that our souls as well as others are infinitely valuable.

A Brain or a Big Toe

I'll have to admit, the beginning of my time here at BYU has been extremely humbling. I came as the top student from a school of a little over 300. By the end of the third day of classes I was beginning to wonder how I even got into this university! There are so many talented, intelligent, well-rounded people out here! Many that I associate with display an intimidating amount of dedication toward their passion in life, whether it be in music, school, or something equally impressive. I've often jokingly labeled myself as someone who does well in many areas, but excels in none of them. This label could have become much more depressingly real to me over these past two weeks. Strangely enough, it hasn't! This is largely because of a passage of scripture that I've grown to love over the past couple years.

This particular scripture is 1st Corinthians, chapter 12. In this chapter, it talks about the variety of spiritual gifts given to the members of this church. It describes the church as a body, with the members as different parts who all have important roles to play. One of my favorite ideas is in verses 17 and 18: "If the whole body were an eye, where were the hearing? If the whole were hearing, where were the smelling? But now hath God set the members every one of them in the body, as it hath pleased him." It always makes me laugh a bit, because it gives me a mental image of a single eyball lying uselessly on the floor. Despite this lovely picture, the passage has an incredibly comforting message for me. We are all a part of the body of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. No matter how insignificant we sometimes feel we are, we each have a part that only we can fulfill.

However, it is important to remember that even though we are all unique and important, we are also all interdependent. The brain of a body is useless by itself, and you might never know how much a big toe helps you keep your balance until you lose it! (Trust me, I have a friend who knows!) So whether my part is to be the brain or the toe, I owe it to myself and those around me to do the best I can! And in the end, my best is all He asks of me.

A World of Dance

I have been dancing since I was three and it has provided me with so many opportunities to meet new people and experience new things. Dancing has been a big part of different cultures for as long as anyone can remember. It has evolved and expanded into new forms and styles. Dance has also become a much more popular trend across the world. There is such a great number of styles of dance that pertain to different cultures, and yet those who participate in the art of dance, no matter what style, understand the unity of all of the individuals in the world that also participate. There is a sense of connection between everyone no matter where they are from. All of them have the same common goal: to spread their love of dance to others around the world. Whether it's ballet, hip-hop, swing, or tap, every dancer appreciates each style and is grateful to be a part of such a large, and continually growing, group of talented artists. Even those who have not taken a single dance class, can still participate and appreciate a global tradition. I encourage everyone to, at least some time in their life, try a style of dance. It's a fun and exciting way to meet new people and stay connected with cultures around the world.

In Secret Places

Being from Utah, and spending the vast majority of my life here, I have not thought of myself as part of a global society very frequently. Simple things that many have experienced, I have not. For instance, until tonight I have never written on a blog. This is a tool that many across the world use to communicate to friends and family long distances away. However, as I begin to think back across those things I have encountered I realize that I have had more exposure to the world than I have previously believed.
I have had the opportunity to be linked to the world by the Church, what McInelly would surely call a global discourse community. I have found that I have learned many things about the world through the teachings of our inspired leaders in meetings such as General Conference. Listening and reading stories of far away places have helped me relate to people all around the world. People in Argentina, Malaysia, and Ukraine are facing similar difficulties to me. I know this because the prophets address these people in the same conference as they address me--and there are no talks meant for one specific group over another. This has made me realize that there is a common ground. An enormous common ground upon which everyone stands upon.
However, there are also differences among the different cultures. But these differences are not so vast as to make communication between nations impossible. For instance, I have a roommate who spent his high school years in Japan. His mother is Japanese, so he has grown up with that culture in his life. I have discovered that this culture has made an imprint on who he is. I believe that the culture from Japan has given him certain characteristics that he may, or may not have otherwise have had. (Oh, and he doesn't know that I'm writing this about him, so let's not discuss this post in front of him. ;) ) For instance, he enjoys particular anime shows, speaks Japanese fluently, and loves noodles (or ramen as he calls it). While yes, many people outside of the mainstream Japanese culture may adopt these characteristics, they are a definite minority.
Moving past the roommate, I haven't had huge chances for exposure to the world outside my culture. I haven't served a mission, visited a country for extended periods of time, learned a language, etc. But I believe that being here at BYU will change much of that. I've already learned how to use a blog...

Secret agents and the secret of life

The last section of the Writing and Rhetoric chapter about kairos really struck me, especially when I read the sentence, "They become agents--those who can act--rather than those who are acted upon." It reminded me of a verse from the Doctrine and Covenants, "For the power is in them, wherein they are agents unto themselves."

Sounds like everyone's trying to commission us for some sort of top secret mission! I imagine sneaking around, using advanced rhetorical skills to stealthily "influence the world around [me]," or having some supernatural ability to undermine the forces of evil.

Granted, the textbook and the scripture aren't actually talking about being spies. But the type of agent they are referring to is every bit as powerful as the greatest undercover investigator. Such an agent is one who understands that he is an agent; he recognizes, values, and wisely exercises the gift of agency that he has been given.

We've been learning all about that agency in our Book of Mormon class, but who would have thought that our writing class could teach us about it too? It is amazing to realize that as we learn in a rhetorical context to recognize "significant moments in time" and respond rather than react to them, we are becoming more aware of the great secret of life - our power of agency in every context.

That power is tremendous. It is greater than any superpower imaginable, yet many times we don't even think about it, or worse, act as if we didn't have it.

Picture Superman running on the sidewalk, trying desperately to reach some impending disaster on the other side of the city, as if he had forgotten he knew how to fly. That's just ridiculous. But that's us, every time we allow our circumstances and surroundings to be the sole determinants of our attitudes and actions.

We literally have the power to be happy no matter what. We have the power to do good no matter what.

We're pretty amazing agents!

The 1812 Overture

Today's epiphany regards patriotism, music, and trying to impress a girl with 'sophisticated' intelligence.

The situation is this:

It's visiting hours in Helaman Halls, and I'm working on homework with the door open. I've got Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture playing while I work.

For those who don't know, I am hopelessly obsessed with classical music. My iPod is full of dead composers and movie soundtracks. Most people don't recognize a majority of my favorite songs, but that's okay - I don't recognize most of theirs either.

Tonight, however, a female passerby happens to realize what I'm listening to, so she stops in. We have a brief chat, and it's obvious she is musically brilliant. As she's about to leave, a boy stops in. Let's call him Alpha Male.

Alpha also recognizes the song, although he lacks the sense to realize he knows nothing more about it than the title. That's not enough to stop Alpha, though. Seeing the girl's apparent regard for the song, he puffs his chest out and begins a long-winded soliloquy about how awesome the 1812 Overture is.

Although it wasn't necessary, he gives us a brief history of the song. He explains that Peter Tchaikovsky was always a bit of a US lover at heart, and when he heard that America had won the War of 1812, he was inspired to write a beautiful and triumphant song about it.

Not content to leave it there, Alpha tells both of us about how when the song is performed, orchestras will hire cannon performers to fire off live rounds into the air in order to get the "true" effect that Tchaikovsky intended.

With a final beating of the chest and a wink at the girl, Alpha turns away to hunt for more worshipers (I might have imagined the chest-beating).

It's been awhile since I laughed that hard with a stranger.

Peter Tchaikovsky was a proud citizen of Russia and wrote the overture for a festival which celebrated the Russian victory over Napolean's French armies in 1812. He never had much respect for anybody but Russia. In fact, that two main themes in the piece are "Marseilles" (the French national anthem) and "God Save the Czar", which enters to drown out the French anthem. On the same day U.S. forces made the biggest push of the War of 1812 (30,000 men), Napolean was trudging through Western Russia with 300,000 men.

Not only this, but during performances of the 1812 Overture, percussionists set off the cannon. It's every timpanist's dream to someday get the part. Of course, they don't fire off live rounds. Usually, they shoot shotgun blanks through the rear of the barrel.


The epiphany in all of this? People tend to be smarter than we give them credit for! Never mix empty intelligence with flirtation - it only works in the movies.

The world is BIG

I have come to realize since I arrived at BYU that the world is very big. Huge. It has been around for a very long time, and a great deal of knowledge has accumulated in the minds of its inhabitants since it was first created. As a misguided youth, I falsely assumed that the limits of my own intelligence were also the limits of the rest of the world's intelligence. Now I am beginning to see that for each quirky social rule that we follow, there is a name and hundreds of years of observance applied to that rule. For each psychological process we unknowingly partake in, there are scientists that have been watching our minds long enough to know we participate in the process. For every hardship we must face, there are probably a hundred people that have endured the same trial and come out all right. Suddenly, the world just got a lot bigger, but it isn't scary. They are all people like me. This is what I have learned from college so far.

Global Pursuit

As you are completing your global pursuit activity, here's a cool picture showing Hong Kong by day and by night.

http://61226.com/share/hk.swf