Indiana Jones
Maybe it's my age or profession. I liked the new Indiana Jones movie, but not because it's great summer fare and an entertaining way to kill a few hours. It's because of its theme--not the mishmash of '50s' culture (i.e., everything from the Cold War and the Red Scare to the bomb to rebels without causes to aliens to malt shops to Howdy Doody). An interesting article a week before Indy premiered stated that only film geeks dissect the franchise's technical aspects; there's no hidden meaning in the films. There's nothing to debate or learn. I beg to differ, and the latest film bears out my theory.
The Indiana Jones series is about the quest for knowledge. As Indy comes to understand in an awestruck moment at the top of that temple, even ET values knowledge--and the visitors from far away are most likely archeologists just like him. For Dr. Henry Jones, Jr., and his esteemed, now deceased father, knowledge--not just information--is always the reason for the quest. After father and son find the Holy Grail, Indy asks his dad what he received from their journey. "Illumination," Sr. replied contentedly. Reading about the Holy Grail and studying Graillore end up being not as important as experiencing what it means to go on a quest and applying all one knows in order to solve an eternal puzzle.
Simply memorizing or having access to huge amounts of information isn't the same as being knowledgeable. Irina's head explodes not because she wants knowledge--she wants to know everything. She wants all the facts but doesn't leave room in her brain for interpreting and analyzing them. Today most people seem comfortable with merely knowing how to Google for random bits of information. We have more access to more bits of info than ever before, but I dare say we're less knowledgeable than our recent ancestors. Our heads might explode if we had to remember everything, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't fill our brains with knowledge so that we can rely on it when we can't get online. We don't need to know random bits of info that can be easily looked up, but we need an educational foundation to be able to discern what's important from all the dross.
How many people--even university professors--know multiple languages, recall immediately just the resource a student should use and why that's the perfect choice, understand the ramifications of history and historic decisions on global cultures, and can call forth just the important piece of information gleaned from analyzing a situation? Indiana Jones can. Of course, even Dr. Jones, Sr., created a grail diary to remember details for him, but he still could recall the words of Charlemagne and apply them to solve a problem without having to look up the source. Being knowledgeable counts in a pinch, especially when being held hostage or facing down a machine gun.
For all his classical education and impressive command of historic, literary, and geographic knowledge, Indiana Jones isn't locked inside an ivory tower. Although he seems less inclined to climb out his office window to escape students--and even agrees to become a dean by the late 1950s, life outside the classroom is just as important as studies within it. He encourages a library-bound student to get outside--knowing what people are doing now and experiencing life are just as important as assimilating facts.
Indy, for all his expensive globe trotting, is remarkably unconcerned about money. For him, the salary isn't the purpose of his career--learning and doing as much as he can--fulfilling that thirst for knowledge and experience--is the real goal. No matter that professors today can't afford--and usually don't have access to the kinds of funding leading to--the travel Indy takes for granted. His life is about gaining knowledge, and then using that knowledge to help humankind.
I hope that this type of professor--the Indiana Jones who gets out into the world, or even his scholarly , more cloistered father--isn't becoming as fossilized as the relics Indy unearths. We as teachers and our students need more professors like Dr. Henry Jones, Jr., who, in a moment's notice, can take us on the adventure of our life but know what makes that wild ride significant.
The Indiana Jones series is about the quest for knowledge. As Indy comes to understand in an awestruck moment at the top of that temple, even ET values knowledge--and the visitors from far away are most likely archeologists just like him. For Dr. Henry Jones, Jr., and his esteemed, now deceased father, knowledge--not just information--is always the reason for the quest. After father and son find the Holy Grail, Indy asks his dad what he received from their journey. "Illumination," Sr. replied contentedly. Reading about the Holy Grail and studying Graillore end up being not as important as experiencing what it means to go on a quest and applying all one knows in order to solve an eternal puzzle.
Simply memorizing or having access to huge amounts of information isn't the same as being knowledgeable. Irina's head explodes not because she wants knowledge--she wants to know everything. She wants all the facts but doesn't leave room in her brain for interpreting and analyzing them. Today most people seem comfortable with merely knowing how to Google for random bits of information. We have more access to more bits of info than ever before, but I dare say we're less knowledgeable than our recent ancestors. Our heads might explode if we had to remember everything, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't fill our brains with knowledge so that we can rely on it when we can't get online. We don't need to know random bits of info that can be easily looked up, but we need an educational foundation to be able to discern what's important from all the dross.
How many people--even university professors--know multiple languages, recall immediately just the resource a student should use and why that's the perfect choice, understand the ramifications of history and historic decisions on global cultures, and can call forth just the important piece of information gleaned from analyzing a situation? Indiana Jones can. Of course, even Dr. Jones, Sr., created a grail diary to remember details for him, but he still could recall the words of Charlemagne and apply them to solve a problem without having to look up the source. Being knowledgeable counts in a pinch, especially when being held hostage or facing down a machine gun.
For all his classical education and impressive command of historic, literary, and geographic knowledge, Indiana Jones isn't locked inside an ivory tower. Although he seems less inclined to climb out his office window to escape students--and even agrees to become a dean by the late 1950s, life outside the classroom is just as important as studies within it. He encourages a library-bound student to get outside--knowing what people are doing now and experiencing life are just as important as assimilating facts.
Indy, for all his expensive globe trotting, is remarkably unconcerned about money. For him, the salary isn't the purpose of his career--learning and doing as much as he can--fulfilling that thirst for knowledge and experience--is the real goal. No matter that professors today can't afford--and usually don't have access to the kinds of funding leading to--the travel Indy takes for granted. His life is about gaining knowledge, and then using that knowledge to help humankind.
I hope that this type of professor--the Indiana Jones who gets out into the world, or even his scholarly , more cloistered father--isn't becoming as fossilized as the relics Indy unearths. We as teachers and our students need more professors like Dr. Henry Jones, Jr., who, in a moment's notice, can take us on the adventure of our life but know what makes that wild ride significant.