Education ch. 2 * Paradox *
Paradox: When someone observes something, the something is affected by the observation. We can’t observe one another without changing one another. Law of physics. So if you are watching me “teach,” dear student, you change me. You change history if I am teaching history. You change mathematics if I am teaching mathematics. You change me. There is no Truth. Truth changes if we get a peek at it. The paradox about Truth is that as soon as it's limited to expression, it's incomplete and therefore not Truth.
Paradox: Matter is both particles and waves. Observations change waves into particles. Law of physics. Precious Children, you are starlight and you are adolescent bodies. You are going to need to know to put a period at the end of a sentence, and you are going to need to know how to figure out careers that haven’t even been invented yet. How do I teach starlight? How do I quicken your minds in the direction of reaching the stars without destroying the Earth?
What, exactly, am I supposed to be doing in this classroom? You are texting your boyfriend beneath the desk, listening to music in one ear and me in the other, writing a paragraph comparing and contrasting “Slumdog Millionaire” and “Smoke Signals” and you are flagging down your friend in the hall, indicating a meeting in the girls’ bathroom in one minute. You are trying to hide your cold sore with your lipstick and you are worried that your earrings don’t go with your outfit and you are texting your sister about your mother’s fight with her boyfriend and you are looking up the movie credits online so you can see what the supporting actor’s name is. You are writing an essay in an English class. I wrote essays in English class. And it was never all of this. And I remember how it was just like this. Only with pencils.
What did they teach me? To always put a period at the end of the sentence. To compare. Contrast. Look things up.
Besides that. I watched them for seven hours a day, just as I am watched now. I learned that I didn’t want a boring life. I learned that there is much meanness in the world. I learned that some people are very excited about some things and their excitement is contagious. I learned that some people are worthy of idolization. And some are not. And you don’t sometimes find out until much later.
I guess it was generally a useful education. I guess I should pass on to them the bits about looking things up and being excited about stuff and hopefully about how important it is to be one of those people with integrity who don’t disappoint later when the whole truth comes out.
The paradox here is that starlight needs no improvement, and maybe texting will be the new Standard Language and those who have the tools to act with integrity will do so with or without my intervention or example. Particle or wave, they can be directed. They can be observed, caught in acts of kindness. I remark on their goodness and bring it into the light. I inform them of their beauty. I reify their best qualities for them, sometimes changing the direction of the adolescent body, or the Truth or whatever it is that I see in them or give to them or discover with them.
There is no curriculum for what we do. There is no training to teach us how to catch the tear that falls after your mom slammed the door, your sister texted you that she’s gone, you’re watching the clip of “Smoke Signals” where the dad drives away, you’re comparing and contrasting, your heart is broken and your boyfriend is pissed ‘cuz he kissed you last night and now he’s worried that he’ll get cold sores. It’ll all be your fault. You’ve ruined his life. Does it help any to get an A on your essay? Can I change anything by observing your courage?
Paradox: Matter is both particles and waves. Observations change waves into particles. Law of physics. Precious Children, you are starlight and you are adolescent bodies. You are going to need to know to put a period at the end of a sentence, and you are going to need to know how to figure out careers that haven’t even been invented yet. How do I teach starlight? How do I quicken your minds in the direction of reaching the stars without destroying the Earth?
What, exactly, am I supposed to be doing in this classroom? You are texting your boyfriend beneath the desk, listening to music in one ear and me in the other, writing a paragraph comparing and contrasting “Slumdog Millionaire” and “Smoke Signals” and you are flagging down your friend in the hall, indicating a meeting in the girls’ bathroom in one minute. You are trying to hide your cold sore with your lipstick and you are worried that your earrings don’t go with your outfit and you are texting your sister about your mother’s fight with her boyfriend and you are looking up the movie credits online so you can see what the supporting actor’s name is. You are writing an essay in an English class. I wrote essays in English class. And it was never all of this. And I remember how it was just like this. Only with pencils.
What did they teach me? To always put a period at the end of the sentence. To compare. Contrast. Look things up.
Besides that. I watched them for seven hours a day, just as I am watched now. I learned that I didn’t want a boring life. I learned that there is much meanness in the world. I learned that some people are very excited about some things and their excitement is contagious. I learned that some people are worthy of idolization. And some are not. And you don’t sometimes find out until much later.
I guess it was generally a useful education. I guess I should pass on to them the bits about looking things up and being excited about stuff and hopefully about how important it is to be one of those people with integrity who don’t disappoint later when the whole truth comes out.
The paradox here is that starlight needs no improvement, and maybe texting will be the new Standard Language and those who have the tools to act with integrity will do so with or without my intervention or example. Particle or wave, they can be directed. They can be observed, caught in acts of kindness. I remark on their goodness and bring it into the light. I inform them of their beauty. I reify their best qualities for them, sometimes changing the direction of the adolescent body, or the Truth or whatever it is that I see in them or give to them or discover with them.
There is no curriculum for what we do. There is no training to teach us how to catch the tear that falls after your mom slammed the door, your sister texted you that she’s gone, you’re watching the clip of “Smoke Signals” where the dad drives away, you’re comparing and contrasting, your heart is broken and your boyfriend is pissed ‘cuz he kissed you last night and now he’s worried that he’ll get cold sores. It’ll all be your fault. You’ve ruined his life. Does it help any to get an A on your essay? Can I change anything by observing your courage?