I asked an atheist friend of mine for some resources on the topic of ethics and morality from an atheist worldview, and one of the things he recommended was this debate. This is my first encounter with the official debate on the topic, and I am eager to explore more.
I like this video because it is approachable (as compared to how heavy, dense, and LONG philosophical readings can be), and it is concise and straightforward. It also gave me some vocabulary --you know how it is when you have some ideas floating around in your head but don't know how to say them? This video helped with the intuitions I have had on this topic but didn't know how to express.
There are a few comments I want to make.
First of all, let me say upfront that I do not like the word "morality," as I feel it is so loaded. I much prefer "ethics." But in this context, I'll just go with the terminology they used.
It took me awhile to get my mind around the idea of the "Social Contract." How can one base an entire position about morality on something we know did not actually ever happen, and is only a hypothetical? I think I got it eventually, though... and then the thought struck me: "God" is a hypothetical too. We do not know, prove-ably, that there is a man invisible to us who is keeping score and will reward or punish after we die, but we use him to regulate our behavior nonetheless. This is not much different than imagining what a perfectly rational society, where each person is blinded to his/her place in that society, would choose to include in their social contract.
There was a point Dr. Craig kept making, Dr. Kagan kept answering, but Dr. Craig just couldn't seem to get it through his head. This had to do with his "moral accountability" argument (I paraphrase): if naturalism is true, there is no God, our universe is going to burn up, and all life will disappear anyway, then our moral behavior is insignificant. Dr. Kagan answered him on this point at least three times: Our moral behavior may not have cosmic, eternal significance, but that is not the same as saying that it has no significance whatsoever.
I think the issue could have been better handled by talking not so much about significance, but about consequence. We see people doing immoral things all the time, and they seem to "get away with it." There is something in us that longs for there to be a God who can bring the justice we are powerless to effect. Many an evil man or woman has died without ever facing justice for their actions. It seems unfair, and we wish for there to be an afterlife where the scales will be balanced.
Of course, there is no way to prove an afterlife, nor what may or may not happen therein, and our mere collective wishing something does not necessitate that to be reality. But still... How does an atheistic morality deal with moral consequences vis a vis our desire for justice? Perhaps such a mindset brings an urgency to the picture of working for justice NOW. If there is no justice after death, then we cannot shrug our shoulders when we see a problem that seems too big for us and say, "God will deal with him/her." Not believing in justice after death compels us to be passionate about enacting justice before death.
But if you are powerless... If you are the torture victim. If you are the abused child. If you are the peasant whose land has been stolen. There is little comfort for you in the atheistic worldview, as far as I see it.
One angle I could consider the problem is that old axiom "Being good is its own reward." A person who makes moral choices, it sometimes happens, feels clean of heart and conscience. Morality brings a person closer to Love (which I currently define as connection between living beings), and Love infuses life with meaning and beauty. The quality and depth of a life lived morally is better, at the level of the soul, than that of one lived immorally, because it has more Love.
But this leads to the fact that the person who is living immorally does not always feel anything is missing. Especially if they have physical wealth to bring happiness to their lives, and can shield themselves from exposure to the suffering of others, how could they know how much better life could be, were they to choose to become more moral? It is the nature of our brains to adapt to our circumstances, and we are notoriously pitiful at imagining contingent circumstances in accurate ways.
So God may not be necessary for morality, but part of me wishes there is an afterlife where justice will be served, because at this point I do not see a satisfactory answer to this problem. But this is a problem that is unknowable, since, as I said, we cannot prove an afterlife. And just because I don't like certain facts of life, doesn't make them any less true.
I loved the part when Dr. Kagan led Dr. Craig into the trap of inadvertently admitting that the Christian doctrine of substitutionary atonement is actually immoral and it annihilates all three points Dr. Craig had been trying to make. Dr. Kagan did it gracefully and without even pointing out the conclusion, but I, for one, felt the conclusion hanging in the air. Brilliant.
(Dr. Craig should have acknowledged, though, that not all branches of Christianity believe in substitutionary atonement. He, rather presumptuously IMO, said "Christians believe...XYZ" rather than "the Christian tradition I am part of teaches...XYZ".)
At the question, "Why do people break the moral code?" I was irritated when they started talking about sin. When Christians use the word "sin," all logic, problem-solving, cooperation, and creativity is instantly short-circuited. Why did that child his his sister? Let's not try to figure out his motivation, the developmental level of his brain, the factors leading to his impatience such as hunger or tiredness, none of that. Nope. It's because "he has a sin nature." Puh-lease. Sin is such a non-thing. It is an abstract concept that explains nothing and solves nothing. It's a huge cop-out. It's one of my pet peeve words. Was Dr. Kagan trying to be deferential by saying "I, too think it has something to do with sin." Really?
There are all kinds of reasons people do not keep the moral code. Morality, as they were defining it in this debate, is largely rooted in reason, which is a function of the neocortex. (If I know my rudimentary brain physics correctly... errrmmm...) But we are not creatures of pure reason. We have many impulses and desires living inside us at once. The reptilian brain desires survival and reproduction. The mammalian brain desires pleasure and approval. On and on. When faced with moral choices, there are many internal factors to weigh, in addition to external ones. People break the moral code because the moral code is not the only possible choice.
Otherwise, it was a good debate, and I plan to read more on this topic.
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
Monday, April 29, 2013
Putting men in a box
I was rereading my post a couple days ago about how I was processing my cancer scare, and I noticed something that bothered me. I made the assumption that most men would not consider a relationship without sex to be worthwhile, as if that were the main point for most men. Wow, what a blatant, ugly stereotype! I realized that I still operate on gender stereotypes unconsciously, even though I do not consciously endorse them. I'm ashamed of myself!
How often did I hear my dad or other well-meaning people warn me growing up "Watch out, men have a one-track mind!" I remember reading a book by a Christian author, trying to enlighten Christian woman on what men were "really" like. It included phrases like (I'm going from memory here, not quoting verbatim), "every man, no matter how holy, has your body sized up in the first glance when he meets you. If he's holy, he'll refrain himself from undressing you in his mind, but, being visual creatures all men can't help but notice your body."
All men? Really? Can you prove this? Have you talked with each of the 3.5 billion men on Earth to ask them what they do when they first meet a woman?
And why is this supposed to be only a man thing? Couldn't a woman be a visual creature too? I'll admit, I notice people's appearances when I first meet them. Full body, not just faces, not just the style of clothes, and I do it to men and women. If it's a man I find attractive, I might actually undress him in my mind, though my "holiness" usually restrains me. Does that make me less feminine?
I have a lot of male friends who have never asked me for sex, but we have an enriching relationship nonetheless. Are they not getting any pleasure from the relationship, just because I'm not having sex with them? In that case, they are being very generous with me, enduring my presence so that I can derive pleasure from their company, while they suffer miserably without sex.
What about life partners, though?
Again, why do we have this assumption that men are the only ones who just couldn't bear to have a long-term life partner if no sex were involved? As if women have no libido! Honestly, I'd suffer in a long-term life partner situation without sex too. But that doesn't mean that the relationship wouldn't be beneficial in other ways. I'm able to absorb benefits from a variety of life domains, without making any one of them THE primary focus of the relationship. It is insulting to men to assume that they are too stupid and animal-like not to be able to enjoy the same depth and openness of experience.
I have betrayed the humanity of both men and women by my statements. I apologize.
Saturday, April 27, 2013
Dream interpretation--"The Mirror and the Pedophile"
A few days into the semi-freak-out process I had last week, I had a dream.
I was chasing T, my 2-year-old, down a hallway, yelling for him to come back. I sensed danger was near. Sure enough, near the end of the hallway, a door on the right opened up, and I saw the face of a bearded man whom I knew, for some reason, to be a pedophile. He saw T, and grabbed him, to pull him into the apartment. I screamed at the man to stop, and ran as fast as I could to the door and got there just as it was closing with T inside. I knew the man was about to lock the door, so I urgently turned the doorknob and slammed myself against the door. Fortunately, I was able to open the door just in time. I managed to grab T's arm and pull him out of the apartment. I held him close to me.
The scene then switched, and I was in a dressing room, like they have in the back stage areas of theatres or concert halls. I was naked and looking into the mirror, but I could only see myself from the waist up. I was holding my right arm straight up, and was leaning it against what I thought was another mirror on my right. However, I felt a kind of tickle on my armpit, and I looked over, and realized I was actually leaning against the arm of a man. The tickle was his armpit hair. He was in the same posture as myself, though reversed--his left arm was straight up, and he was leaning it against me. I peered my head around, and the man peered his head around, and I saw that his face was someone I admire (who shall remain nameless on this blog). I said, "Oh, it's you." He started saying loving admiring words to me, like "You've always impressed me," and "I think you're amazing." And soon we were down on the floor... At this point, I became semi-lucid and said, "I don't need to continue this dream, because I already know what sex feels like." It was almost a bored feeling. So I woke up.
At first I chided myself. I'm not "getting any" these days, why not let myself enjoy it in a dream? Ha. But I know that dreams are symbolic, and even my rejection of going through the actual experience of sex was part of the meaning of the dream.
In a way, though, this is huge progress for me. As far as I can remember, I have never had a sex dream end well. Usually I'm just burning for a guy, and he ignores or rejects me. Or there have been dreams where a guy and I will start to kiss, but then he decides he's not interested, or something else happens to stop it. So at least this time, I had someone very interested, and we were actually well into the process!
Unfortunately, I've also had quite a few pedophile dreams in the past. This has really freaked me out, but I've decided that the pedophile energy that spooks my dreams occasionally has to do with my judgmental attitude towards pedophiles in waking life. I'm opposed to the death penalty, except in the case of pedophilia. There's just something about that crime that infuriates me beyond reason. As far as I know, I wasn't molested as a child. But I relate to the innocence and vulnerability of children, and for anyone to take advantage of them just puts me beside myself with rage. There's also the issue that child sexual abuse seems to be a perpetuating cycle. Many victims grow up to victimize. So why do we let these creeps out of jail, ever? The only way to stop the cycle will be not to allow any more children to get molested. Lastly, my association with pedophiles is "they can't change." As far as I know, pedophilia has an abysmal recovery rate. Another reason to never ever let them out.
So a pedophile, as a personal symbol for me, is an energy that "deserves harsh judgement," has a history of destruction, and is impossible to change. It's probably how my dreaming mind portrays my Shadow. My Shadow is so repulsive to me, and it feels so impossible to change, the closest figure to describe it, one that will generate strong emotional reaction in me, is a pedophile.
I think that T, as a dream symbol, calls upon a very special moment in my life. T was born at home, and the birth experience was one of the highest points of my life. I'll post the whole story later, but for now, one of the major things that I took away from the experience was a recognition of my power. "If I can do that, I can do anything!" This inspiration was what gave me courage to divorce my husband.
How appropriate that after a few days of fretting about not being able to fight cancer on my own, I dream about T running away from me. I'm losing a hold on what I used to understand viscerally via giving birth to T-- I am more powerful than I give myself credit for. This revelation is in danger of being absorbed back into my Shadow in the dream, but I manage, barely, to snatch it back to myself.
Good work, Abigail!
Dream sequencing should usually interpreted with a "because A, then B" approach. Meaning, what happens in the first scene "causes," or "leads into" the second scene, and so on. That's not always the case, but it's a pretty good rule of thumb, and I'm going with it in this dream.
So, because I managed to remember my power, then comes the scene where I am seeing myself as I really am, and this leads to an integration (which is what sex usually symbolizes in a dream) with an energy that has long evaded me.
I look back on all the guys I've ever fallen in love with or had crushes on, and most of them were guys who did not (seem to) have the struggle that I deal with the most--isolation. Most of them were very outgoing, and magnetic, and everyone liked them. The guy in my dream is like that. I very much associate him with charisma and a magnetic personality. And yet, if he's showing up in my dreams, I must have that energy inside myself somewhere too! It gives me hope that I'm seeing myself start to integrate it at the dream level. Dreams are usually ahead of our conscious minds--I certainly don't feel any more magnetic or charming than I used to be--but I've worked with my dreams long enough to know that this is indicative of a new beginning.
It's interesting, this dream showed up the day after I told a few friends what I was struggling with. Their positive, supportive attitudes must have been what inspired the dream. I may not have a partner, but I have good friends and the ability to draw them to me (magnetize) when I need them. And I have my inner strength (represented by T).
The only problems I see in the dream are:
1) I saw myself only from the waist up. Could there be a pun on the word "waste"? I've often felt like I have wasted a lot of my life, which gives me shame. And not seeing the lower parts of my body indicates a disconnect between my higher and lower "selves."
2) I didn't feel the need to actually go through with the sex, because "I already know what it feels like." Again, there is a disconnect between thought and action. I can mentally agree to something (the higher self--head in the clouds), but walking it out (the lower self--feet on the ground), I'm apparently not too sure of. Or unwilling to engage with. I guess I need to embrace materialism more!
(Oh, and eventually I'll get around to facing my Shadow, because I don't actually believe that anyone is fully hopeless, including myself. I'll need to work through those feelings, fears, and issues at some point. It's on my to-do list... ha...)
I was chasing T, my 2-year-old, down a hallway, yelling for him to come back. I sensed danger was near. Sure enough, near the end of the hallway, a door on the right opened up, and I saw the face of a bearded man whom I knew, for some reason, to be a pedophile. He saw T, and grabbed him, to pull him into the apartment. I screamed at the man to stop, and ran as fast as I could to the door and got there just as it was closing with T inside. I knew the man was about to lock the door, so I urgently turned the doorknob and slammed myself against the door. Fortunately, I was able to open the door just in time. I managed to grab T's arm and pull him out of the apartment. I held him close to me.
The scene then switched, and I was in a dressing room, like they have in the back stage areas of theatres or concert halls. I was naked and looking into the mirror, but I could only see myself from the waist up. I was holding my right arm straight up, and was leaning it against what I thought was another mirror on my right. However, I felt a kind of tickle on my armpit, and I looked over, and realized I was actually leaning against the arm of a man. The tickle was his armpit hair. He was in the same posture as myself, though reversed--his left arm was straight up, and he was leaning it against me. I peered my head around, and the man peered his head around, and I saw that his face was someone I admire (who shall remain nameless on this blog). I said, "Oh, it's you." He started saying loving admiring words to me, like "You've always impressed me," and "I think you're amazing." And soon we were down on the floor... At this point, I became semi-lucid and said, "I don't need to continue this dream, because I already know what sex feels like." It was almost a bored feeling. So I woke up.
At first I chided myself. I'm not "getting any" these days, why not let myself enjoy it in a dream? Ha. But I know that dreams are symbolic, and even my rejection of going through the actual experience of sex was part of the meaning of the dream.
In a way, though, this is huge progress for me. As far as I can remember, I have never had a sex dream end well. Usually I'm just burning for a guy, and he ignores or rejects me. Or there have been dreams where a guy and I will start to kiss, but then he decides he's not interested, or something else happens to stop it. So at least this time, I had someone very interested, and we were actually well into the process!
Unfortunately, I've also had quite a few pedophile dreams in the past. This has really freaked me out, but I've decided that the pedophile energy that spooks my dreams occasionally has to do with my judgmental attitude towards pedophiles in waking life. I'm opposed to the death penalty, except in the case of pedophilia. There's just something about that crime that infuriates me beyond reason. As far as I know, I wasn't molested as a child. But I relate to the innocence and vulnerability of children, and for anyone to take advantage of them just puts me beside myself with rage. There's also the issue that child sexual abuse seems to be a perpetuating cycle. Many victims grow up to victimize. So why do we let these creeps out of jail, ever? The only way to stop the cycle will be not to allow any more children to get molested. Lastly, my association with pedophiles is "they can't change." As far as I know, pedophilia has an abysmal recovery rate. Another reason to never ever let them out.
So a pedophile, as a personal symbol for me, is an energy that "deserves harsh judgement," has a history of destruction, and is impossible to change. It's probably how my dreaming mind portrays my Shadow. My Shadow is so repulsive to me, and it feels so impossible to change, the closest figure to describe it, one that will generate strong emotional reaction in me, is a pedophile.
I think that T, as a dream symbol, calls upon a very special moment in my life. T was born at home, and the birth experience was one of the highest points of my life. I'll post the whole story later, but for now, one of the major things that I took away from the experience was a recognition of my power. "If I can do that, I can do anything!" This inspiration was what gave me courage to divorce my husband.
How appropriate that after a few days of fretting about not being able to fight cancer on my own, I dream about T running away from me. I'm losing a hold on what I used to understand viscerally via giving birth to T-- I am more powerful than I give myself credit for. This revelation is in danger of being absorbed back into my Shadow in the dream, but I manage, barely, to snatch it back to myself.
Good work, Abigail!
Dream sequencing should usually interpreted with a "because A, then B" approach. Meaning, what happens in the first scene "causes," or "leads into" the second scene, and so on. That's not always the case, but it's a pretty good rule of thumb, and I'm going with it in this dream.
So, because I managed to remember my power, then comes the scene where I am seeing myself as I really am, and this leads to an integration (which is what sex usually symbolizes in a dream) with an energy that has long evaded me.
I look back on all the guys I've ever fallen in love with or had crushes on, and most of them were guys who did not (seem to) have the struggle that I deal with the most--isolation. Most of them were very outgoing, and magnetic, and everyone liked them. The guy in my dream is like that. I very much associate him with charisma and a magnetic personality. And yet, if he's showing up in my dreams, I must have that energy inside myself somewhere too! It gives me hope that I'm seeing myself start to integrate it at the dream level. Dreams are usually ahead of our conscious minds--I certainly don't feel any more magnetic or charming than I used to be--but I've worked with my dreams long enough to know that this is indicative of a new beginning.
It's interesting, this dream showed up the day after I told a few friends what I was struggling with. Their positive, supportive attitudes must have been what inspired the dream. I may not have a partner, but I have good friends and the ability to draw them to me (magnetize) when I need them. And I have my inner strength (represented by T).
The only problems I see in the dream are:
1) I saw myself only from the waist up. Could there be a pun on the word "waste"? I've often felt like I have wasted a lot of my life, which gives me shame. And not seeing the lower parts of my body indicates a disconnect between my higher and lower "selves."
2) I didn't feel the need to actually go through with the sex, because "I already know what it feels like." Again, there is a disconnect between thought and action. I can mentally agree to something (the higher self--head in the clouds), but walking it out (the lower self--feet on the ground), I'm apparently not too sure of. Or unwilling to engage with. I guess I need to embrace materialism more!
(Oh, and eventually I'll get around to facing my Shadow, because I don't actually believe that anyone is fully hopeless, including myself. I'll need to work through those feelings, fears, and issues at some point. It's on my to-do list... ha...)
Friday, April 26, 2013
Facing mortality
(Warning, TMI ahead...Probably not one of the wisest self-exposés I've ever written...)
Six months ago my pap smear came back abnormal. (Apparently, my ex gave me one of the nastier strains of HPV, one of the strains that can cause cervical cancer. So I need to make sure to check on that regularly. I've had an abnormal pap once before, back when I was pregnant with my first child, and it cleared on its own.)
So last week I went in for my follow-up pap smear, feeling a bit nervous. (Really, who likes paps? Geez.) And this one being a follow-up, I was nervous because it would determine whether I was looking at an ongoing problem with cervical cancer. I wondered whether my body had managed to fight off the precancerous cells like last time, or if this would start a new season of concern. After prodding around down there, the doctor said, "we'll send these labs in, but I do want to say, your cervix looks pretty friable." That's not a good sign. I have to say, despite my efforts to stay calm, I got scared. What if I have cervical cancer?
This brought me into a kind of existential crisis of sorts. Or maybe that's not really the right word--I'm constantly in an "existential crisis" anyway, though I don't really feel it as a "crisis" most of the time. It's more of a knowing. I am convinced deeply that life does NOT have meaning beyond what we, both individually and collectively, choose to create from it. And that doesn't bother me at all. I guess the crisis comes when that knowing collides with my biological desire to survive, and my biological and emotional desire to protect my children. I'm not scared to die, (at least, as long as it's not too painful,) but I do feel a strong sense of responsibility, especially towards my children.
Of course, over the week, I researched cervical cancer. Lovely disease, that. Untreated, it can spread to other organs. It can eat away at the walls dividing everything down there, causing feces to spill into the vagina, or cause bouts of bleeding. Fortunately (?) it tends to be a slow-growing cancer, and it would take years to get to that point in most cases. But still...
I don't have health insurance. If this pap showed pre-cancerous cells again, the next step in the medical recommendations would be to see how far the precancerous area had spread, and how deep it was into the skin, via a colposcopy. Not only is this a very uncomfortable and intrusive procedure that the patient is awake for the whole time, it's also expensive. From there, the treatments vary, depending on how widespread the cancer is. If it's small, it can be as as easy as gouging out the affected chunk of skin. If it's large, more drastic treatments may be called for.
All week, despite my efforts to remain positive and suspend any thoughts on the matter before the labs came back, my mind couldn't help but go to thoughts of what I'd do if I found out I had cervical cancer. Death was the main thought. Honestly, I think I'd rather die than go into hundreds of thousands of dollars of medical debt, and endure the horrible-sounding process of treatments. Even taking the risk of trying alternative treatments (which I am in favor of anyway) sounds too stressful. I'm sure I'd be asked to change my diet, consume lots of supplements, possibly even douche with essential oils or something. A big stinking hassle. Especially alone. Death would just be easier. How long would it take to die? How old would my kids be by then? What kinds of things would I need to make sure to arrange? Write a will. Pay off my debts. Make peace with a few people. Sell all my stuff and start trust funds for my children...
But part of me was uneasy with how quickly I was able to choose death. As I thought through all the ramifications of what would happen if I died, I realized that this is really not a good time! Mostly because my kids need me! They are so young! They would probably have to go live with their dad! No, if I did get that bad news, part of me decided, I would go ahead and fight.
And the dark side of me responded, "Fight? I am already fighting. I'm fighting to pay the bills. I'm fighting to have enough energy to go to work. I'm fighting to raise my children in as healthy a way as I know how. I'm fighting to maintain interest in my classes, so I can get a degree that will land me a good job. I'm fighting to maintain hope that a better future is coming. I'm so tired of fighting. Adding one more thing to fight in my life sounds completely impossible. There's simply no way I could do it. Period." And a further realization: "I will be completely incapable of fighting this alone. If I don't have a partner to support me, there's absolutely no way I could maintain my fighting spirit. I just know that about myself."
This spiraled into depressing thoughts of, "but who would choose to be with someone who has cervical cancer due to a virulent strain of HPV? What sane man would intentionally risk exposing his most valued body part to a nasty virus? And anyway, if I do have cervical cancer, it's possible that sex would become painful for me at some point. We all know that's why men partner up, right? Without sex, what kind of partnership would it be, at least from a man's perspective?" So finding a partner is out of the question.
Which leads back to the question of, "how would I even find the strength to fight it?"
It's been an interesting week!
I eventually came to a place of (somewhat uneasy) peace with the situation, though. (I'll explain how in tomorrow's post.) Nonetheless, when I went back to the doctor yesterday to discuss the results of my labs, I was bracing myself. He checked on my cold, which has lasted almost 3 weeks, then we talked about the labs.
Clear.
My body fought it off!
What a weight lifted off me! Nothing to worry about for now! I'm going to live! I need to keep getting pap smears every 6 months to make sure, but there's no cancer at this point! I asked him about his comment that had triggered the entire worrisome process for me--that my cervix looked really friable. He said the only explanation he could think of is that maybe it is scarred from the process of my body fighting the virus.
So am I embarrassed that I spent all week pondering what I would do if I got bad news, all for naught? A little. I think it was a blessing in disguise, though. It is healthy to face one's own mortality. It brings a soberness to life, causes you to evaluate what is really important, and what you really want. (It also spurred me to get serious about writing a will and a living will.)
In my case, this event has forced me to admit something that has been flitting around my thoughts rather un-solidly lately--it is really important to me that I find a life partner. I do not want to do this alone; I've been humbled enough now to realize I'm not nearly as strong as I thought I was. And I know now that relationships are the only things that give life meaning. For someone as low in inherent meaning-making abilities as myself, that is important. This isn't just an "it would be nice" deal, this is a serious, legitimate need. I don't know how to make that happen beyond what I've already tried, but it will be an even more major focus now. More on this later.
This event also brought to light an attitude that I've long known has been lurking halfway in my shadow, halfway conscious-- the attitude of longing to escape. Part of that just goes with having a Pisces Moon. Part of it has to do with my disappointment with how my life has gone, where I am now, and the large amount of work it will take to get where I need to be. And part of it is rooted in a trait that is VERY much in my shadow--playfulness. I'm not playful. I'm responsible, with a strong work ethic and a good case of leisure guilt. Having kids has exacerbated this problem, because kids respond really well to play. They also take lots of time away from you that would otherwise be devoted to work. And that aspect of being a parent DRIVES. ME. CRAZY. So... I'm probably out of balance on the work-play polarity, I'll admit it. Too much work, though, wears the body down, and then the play energy raises its head and screams in whatever way it thinks I might listen, "I want to escape!"
I don't know how to heal myself in this area. But at least the issue is fully conscious now.
Six months ago my pap smear came back abnormal. (Apparently, my ex gave me one of the nastier strains of HPV, one of the strains that can cause cervical cancer. So I need to make sure to check on that regularly. I've had an abnormal pap once before, back when I was pregnant with my first child, and it cleared on its own.)
So last week I went in for my follow-up pap smear, feeling a bit nervous. (Really, who likes paps? Geez.) And this one being a follow-up, I was nervous because it would determine whether I was looking at an ongoing problem with cervical cancer. I wondered whether my body had managed to fight off the precancerous cells like last time, or if this would start a new season of concern. After prodding around down there, the doctor said, "we'll send these labs in, but I do want to say, your cervix looks pretty friable." That's not a good sign. I have to say, despite my efforts to stay calm, I got scared. What if I have cervical cancer?
This brought me into a kind of existential crisis of sorts. Or maybe that's not really the right word--I'm constantly in an "existential crisis" anyway, though I don't really feel it as a "crisis" most of the time. It's more of a knowing. I am convinced deeply that life does NOT have meaning beyond what we, both individually and collectively, choose to create from it. And that doesn't bother me at all. I guess the crisis comes when that knowing collides with my biological desire to survive, and my biological and emotional desire to protect my children. I'm not scared to die, (at least, as long as it's not too painful,) but I do feel a strong sense of responsibility, especially towards my children.
Of course, over the week, I researched cervical cancer. Lovely disease, that. Untreated, it can spread to other organs. It can eat away at the walls dividing everything down there, causing feces to spill into the vagina, or cause bouts of bleeding. Fortunately (?) it tends to be a slow-growing cancer, and it would take years to get to that point in most cases. But still...
I don't have health insurance. If this pap showed pre-cancerous cells again, the next step in the medical recommendations would be to see how far the precancerous area had spread, and how deep it was into the skin, via a colposcopy. Not only is this a very uncomfortable and intrusive procedure that the patient is awake for the whole time, it's also expensive. From there, the treatments vary, depending on how widespread the cancer is. If it's small, it can be as as easy as gouging out the affected chunk of skin. If it's large, more drastic treatments may be called for.
All week, despite my efforts to remain positive and suspend any thoughts on the matter before the labs came back, my mind couldn't help but go to thoughts of what I'd do if I found out I had cervical cancer. Death was the main thought. Honestly, I think I'd rather die than go into hundreds of thousands of dollars of medical debt, and endure the horrible-sounding process of treatments. Even taking the risk of trying alternative treatments (which I am in favor of anyway) sounds too stressful. I'm sure I'd be asked to change my diet, consume lots of supplements, possibly even douche with essential oils or something. A big stinking hassle. Especially alone. Death would just be easier. How long would it take to die? How old would my kids be by then? What kinds of things would I need to make sure to arrange? Write a will. Pay off my debts. Make peace with a few people. Sell all my stuff and start trust funds for my children...
But part of me was uneasy with how quickly I was able to choose death. As I thought through all the ramifications of what would happen if I died, I realized that this is really not a good time! Mostly because my kids need me! They are so young! They would probably have to go live with their dad! No, if I did get that bad news, part of me decided, I would go ahead and fight.
And the dark side of me responded, "Fight? I am already fighting. I'm fighting to pay the bills. I'm fighting to have enough energy to go to work. I'm fighting to raise my children in as healthy a way as I know how. I'm fighting to maintain interest in my classes, so I can get a degree that will land me a good job. I'm fighting to maintain hope that a better future is coming. I'm so tired of fighting. Adding one more thing to fight in my life sounds completely impossible. There's simply no way I could do it. Period." And a further realization: "I will be completely incapable of fighting this alone. If I don't have a partner to support me, there's absolutely no way I could maintain my fighting spirit. I just know that about myself."
This spiraled into depressing thoughts of, "but who would choose to be with someone who has cervical cancer due to a virulent strain of HPV? What sane man would intentionally risk exposing his most valued body part to a nasty virus? And anyway, if I do have cervical cancer, it's possible that sex would become painful for me at some point. We all know that's why men partner up, right? Without sex, what kind of partnership would it be, at least from a man's perspective?" So finding a partner is out of the question.
Which leads back to the question of, "how would I even find the strength to fight it?"
It's been an interesting week!
I eventually came to a place of (somewhat uneasy) peace with the situation, though. (I'll explain how in tomorrow's post.) Nonetheless, when I went back to the doctor yesterday to discuss the results of my labs, I was bracing myself. He checked on my cold, which has lasted almost 3 weeks, then we talked about the labs.
Clear.
My body fought it off!
What a weight lifted off me! Nothing to worry about for now! I'm going to live! I need to keep getting pap smears every 6 months to make sure, but there's no cancer at this point! I asked him about his comment that had triggered the entire worrisome process for me--that my cervix looked really friable. He said the only explanation he could think of is that maybe it is scarred from the process of my body fighting the virus.
So am I embarrassed that I spent all week pondering what I would do if I got bad news, all for naught? A little. I think it was a blessing in disguise, though. It is healthy to face one's own mortality. It brings a soberness to life, causes you to evaluate what is really important, and what you really want. (It also spurred me to get serious about writing a will and a living will.)
In my case, this event has forced me to admit something that has been flitting around my thoughts rather un-solidly lately--it is really important to me that I find a life partner. I do not want to do this alone; I've been humbled enough now to realize I'm not nearly as strong as I thought I was. And I know now that relationships are the only things that give life meaning. For someone as low in inherent meaning-making abilities as myself, that is important. This isn't just an "it would be nice" deal, this is a serious, legitimate need. I don't know how to make that happen beyond what I've already tried, but it will be an even more major focus now. More on this later.
This event also brought to light an attitude that I've long known has been lurking halfway in my shadow, halfway conscious-- the attitude of longing to escape. Part of that just goes with having a Pisces Moon. Part of it has to do with my disappointment with how my life has gone, where I am now, and the large amount of work it will take to get where I need to be. And part of it is rooted in a trait that is VERY much in my shadow--playfulness. I'm not playful. I'm responsible, with a strong work ethic and a good case of leisure guilt. Having kids has exacerbated this problem, because kids respond really well to play. They also take lots of time away from you that would otherwise be devoted to work. And that aspect of being a parent DRIVES. ME. CRAZY. So... I'm probably out of balance on the work-play polarity, I'll admit it. Too much work, though, wears the body down, and then the play energy raises its head and screams in whatever way it thinks I might listen, "I want to escape!"
I don't know how to heal myself in this area. But at least the issue is fully conscious now.
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
Schooling options
If I'm determined not to send my child to a mainstream public school, and if I continue living in the city where I am now (a big "if"... I'm job searching...), then I see only a few other alternatives.
One of the Christian schools in town. (Even if I could afford it) from experience, I know that most Christian schools don't differ much from the objections I have to public schools, with the exceptions being that they aren't as immediately affected by political whimsy, and they usually have smaller class sizes. However, over-stimulation is still a potential problem, if teachers aren't conscious of how to create a peaceful environment (and I am quite dubious in most cases). Behaviorism, check. Structuralism, check. Technology... that depends on the wealth of the school, but most of them that I've run across REALLY WISH they could include more technology into their classes (i.e., more computer-led learning, etc.) I'll need to check to make sure... 3-1/2 strikes. Oh yeah, and there's that whole sticky religious indoctrination issue. 4-1/2 strikes.
Turning Point Learning Center, a charter school very near to where I currently live. They use Project-Based Learning, which is a really awesome approach to education. I love PBL for many reasons... a few of the main ones are:
The concerns I have about TPLC are:
Actually, that's not the only problem. I have a space problem too. My house is tiny, and bursting at the seams, even though I am constantly getting rid of stuff and trying to live as minimally as possible. Where would I keep textbooks, learning aids, manipulatives?
Another problem: I really, really, really don't want to home-school. I love my children, but I need a break from them too. I'm not a kid person, to be honest. I'd rather not be a parent at all. It happened, I'm making the best of it, I'm going to turn out some amazing adults in 18 years, but that doesn't mean I like parenting. My eldest, especially, seems to be able to push my buttons pretty easily. It might be easier for him to learn from someone else, with whom he is not so ready and eager to ARGUE! The whole "prophet is without honor in his own country" phenomenon.
Also, one thing I'm looking forward to about Kindergarten is having a built-in group of friends for ME. I've mentioned I struggle with loneliness and isolation. (Probably partly because I'm too damn picky, and too damn intense...) Parents of other students in your kid's class is a great way to get connected with other people. I guess there's always home-school co-ops for that part of the picture...
If only I could afford the Waldorf school! I have my reservations about them, too, but they are probably with me on all of the most important priorities I have. It would sure be a long commute to Lawrence every day, but it might be worth it! But yikes, what a high price tag on tuition!
One of the Christian schools in town. (Even if I could afford it) from experience, I know that most Christian schools don't differ much from the objections I have to public schools, with the exceptions being that they aren't as immediately affected by political whimsy, and they usually have smaller class sizes. However, over-stimulation is still a potential problem, if teachers aren't conscious of how to create a peaceful environment (and I am quite dubious in most cases). Behaviorism, check. Structuralism, check. Technology... that depends on the wealth of the school, but most of them that I've run across REALLY WISH they could include more technology into their classes (i.e., more computer-led learning, etc.) I'll need to check to make sure... 3-1/2 strikes. Oh yeah, and there's that whole sticky religious indoctrination issue. 4-1/2 strikes.
Turning Point Learning Center, a charter school very near to where I currently live. They use Project-Based Learning, which is a really awesome approach to education. I love PBL for many reasons... a few of the main ones are:
- PBL teachers don't have to worry nearly as much about motivation issues, because motivation is driven by the curiosity of the students and the relevancy of the projects to the "real" world.
- PBL encourages holistic thinking--how each part of the project interacts with and affects all the other parts. Huge plus in my book.
- Students in PBL build a sense of community, as projects are often done in groups
- Students in PBL learn early on to develop their own systems of self-organization, self-regulation, and time-management. This is a skill set I am particularly grateful I developed, due to the the educational approach of the homeschool co-op I was part of during junior-high and highschool.
The concerns I have about TPLC are:
- They have changed management recently, and from the shushed whispers of gossip I've managed to collect, it's in a bit of chaos and having an identity crisis.
- Will it be a community that is supportive of my attachment parenting efforts? I called the school to ask a few questions a few days ago, and the secretary told me that the first thing they have a prospective family do is send the child to observe the classroom for half a day. I asked if I could go along, since my child is only five, and she said no, they always have the child do it alone. This raises a red flag for me. Not only for the obvious reason that I am curious about what happens in the classroom as well, but also because it might demonstrate an anti-attachment attitude that is so prevalent in our society. "Get the child as independent from his parents as soon as possible." A well-meaning approach, but very unhealthy. ESPECIALLY when we are talking about a FIVE YEAR OLD. He doesn't have the schema built up yet to be able to make sense of what is going on around him. If I were there I could answer his questions about what the other students are doing, what the pictures on the wall are about, and so on and so forth. He wouldn't ask the teacher, a stranger, that I know for sure. What a ridiculous policy, Turning Point!
- I do not like their stance on technology for the younger grades. Of all the things they could say on their "about our program" page, they brag about every student doing "enrichment" (oh if only the heavy sarcasm I feel could come through my typing!) on their own computers every day. Kind of like "enriched" flour, I suppose...
(Although, both of my children have 3rd-house suns, and my eldest has moon in Gemini; so it's unlikely that, long-term, he will share my cautious attitude towards technology. That's OK. He can go gung-ho when he's older; I just don't want it over-used at his age.)
Actually, that's not the only problem. I have a space problem too. My house is tiny, and bursting at the seams, even though I am constantly getting rid of stuff and trying to live as minimally as possible. Where would I keep textbooks, learning aids, manipulatives?
Another problem: I really, really, really don't want to home-school. I love my children, but I need a break from them too. I'm not a kid person, to be honest. I'd rather not be a parent at all. It happened, I'm making the best of it, I'm going to turn out some amazing adults in 18 years, but that doesn't mean I like parenting. My eldest, especially, seems to be able to push my buttons pretty easily. It might be easier for him to learn from someone else, with whom he is not so ready and eager to ARGUE! The whole "prophet is without honor in his own country" phenomenon.
Also, one thing I'm looking forward to about Kindergarten is having a built-in group of friends for ME. I've mentioned I struggle with loneliness and isolation. (Probably partly because I'm too damn picky, and too damn intense...) Parents of other students in your kid's class is a great way to get connected with other people. I guess there's always home-school co-ops for that part of the picture...
If only I could afford the Waldorf school! I have my reservations about them, too, but they are probably with me on all of the most important priorities I have. It would sure be a long commute to Lawrence every day, but it might be worth it! But yikes, what a high price tag on tuition!
Monday, April 22, 2013
Why I probably won't send my kids to public schools
I can't believe it. My oldest child will be starting Kindergarten this autumn. I'm trying to figure out what school to send him to. Me being myself, of course I have a lot of lofty stipulations.
Public schools are probably out. Here's a list of a few reasons:
1) Overstimulation. He is a sensitive child, like his mother, highly aware of his environment and all the stimuli therein. I want to avoid situations (emotional, social, or physical) that will encourage him to put on his defense mechanisms, such as defiant attitudes, sullenness, or aggression. Mainstream public schools have large class sizes, and the tendency to cram the classrooms full of garish, loud objects, with not a peaceful negative space in which the eyes can rest. People think this is good classroom protocol.
I'd much prefer THIS Kindergarten!!! (Click this link for an amazing real school).
Too bad it's in Austria. Boo.
2) Technology. Many public schools have jumped onto the hype about teaching our kids technology at earlier and earlier ages. I'm concerned about some preliminary scientific studies linking "screen time" with altered brain development. And we already know that staring at a glowing screen is physiologically addicting. I do not think kids need to be trained in technology as soon as possible. Developmentally, what they most need at the early ages is a solid emotional foundation (attachment) and lots of physical movement(s). Technology is largely a mental game, and kids can easily "catch up" in that area when they are older. I just don't see many mainstream forces speaking out about this. Probably because it's way too convenient to use screens as babysitters.
3) Behaviorism Most schools--public and private-- still control their classrooms via external motivators, such as rewards or punishments. Children are treated like animals to be trained. This is an idea based in behaviorism, and while I recognize that humans are actually, in very large part, animals, I do not think training them primarily via external motivators is, ultimately, very healthy. Most people just think that's the only way to "control" children, but it's not. There's a small (but hopefully growing!) number of schools that are taking a deeper, more affirming approach, but they are hard to find.
4) Structuralism Most schools --public and private-- have a huge focus on getting the child to fit into a hierarchical, self-serving structure of some sort, be it the broken American economic system, a religion, or some other large structure that dehumanizes the individual. I recognize the value of helping a child learn to adapt to his/her environment. I recognize that we are by nature cultural beings, and it is impossible not to have an identity rooted in a some kind of collective. I recognize that structure is a necessary part of life. But the structure should always serve the people, never the other way around. Unfortunately, our public schools too often are like factories, when they should be more like families.
5) Political war zones. Some day I'll write my opinions about how this country's educational system could be improved. Meanwhile, the public schools are unfortunate victims of political point-scorers. Public schools are like marionettes with each string being held by a different puppeteer with a different script-- constantly being pulled in different directions. Every new president seems eager to show his dedication to "improving" the education system in America, and implementing top-down "reforms" that are so wildly uninformed by the real world. Any teacher who's been around the block can tell you. Every year there's a new hot-shot theory that everyone must suddenly conform to. It's a little ridiculous. And it's unstable. I don't want my kids stuck in the middle of that mess.
There are other reasons I'm not considering public school, but those are the main ones. My next post will outline the alternatives I have available to me.
Public schools are probably out. Here's a list of a few reasons:
1) Overstimulation. He is a sensitive child, like his mother, highly aware of his environment and all the stimuli therein. I want to avoid situations (emotional, social, or physical) that will encourage him to put on his defense mechanisms, such as defiant attitudes, sullenness, or aggression. Mainstream public schools have large class sizes, and the tendency to cram the classrooms full of garish, loud objects, with not a peaceful negative space in which the eyes can rest. People think this is good classroom protocol.
I'd much prefer THIS Kindergarten!!! (Click this link for an amazing real school).
2) Technology. Many public schools have jumped onto the hype about teaching our kids technology at earlier and earlier ages. I'm concerned about some preliminary scientific studies linking "screen time" with altered brain development. And we already know that staring at a glowing screen is physiologically addicting. I do not think kids need to be trained in technology as soon as possible. Developmentally, what they most need at the early ages is a solid emotional foundation (attachment) and lots of physical movement(s). Technology is largely a mental game, and kids can easily "catch up" in that area when they are older. I just don't see many mainstream forces speaking out about this. Probably because it's way too convenient to use screens as babysitters.
3) Behaviorism Most schools--public and private-- still control their classrooms via external motivators, such as rewards or punishments. Children are treated like animals to be trained. This is an idea based in behaviorism, and while I recognize that humans are actually, in very large part, animals, I do not think training them primarily via external motivators is, ultimately, very healthy. Most people just think that's the only way to "control" children, but it's not. There's a small (but hopefully growing!) number of schools that are taking a deeper, more affirming approach, but they are hard to find.
4) Structuralism Most schools --public and private-- have a huge focus on getting the child to fit into a hierarchical, self-serving structure of some sort, be it the broken American economic system, a religion, or some other large structure that dehumanizes the individual. I recognize the value of helping a child learn to adapt to his/her environment. I recognize that we are by nature cultural beings, and it is impossible not to have an identity rooted in a some kind of collective. I recognize that structure is a necessary part of life. But the structure should always serve the people, never the other way around. Unfortunately, our public schools too often are like factories, when they should be more like families.
5) Political war zones. Some day I'll write my opinions about how this country's educational system could be improved. Meanwhile, the public schools are unfortunate victims of political point-scorers. Public schools are like marionettes with each string being held by a different puppeteer with a different script-- constantly being pulled in different directions. Every new president seems eager to show his dedication to "improving" the education system in America, and implementing top-down "reforms" that are so wildly uninformed by the real world. Any teacher who's been around the block can tell you. Every year there's a new hot-shot theory that everyone must suddenly conform to. It's a little ridiculous. And it's unstable. I don't want my kids stuck in the middle of that mess.
There are other reasons I'm not considering public school, but those are the main ones. My next post will outline the alternatives I have available to me.
Thursday, April 18, 2013
Thoughts on Subverting the Norm--layer 8: broken pedestal
I remember when my pedestal broke.
I was probably about 16 or so. The church I attended through high school had been involved in a revival that was gradually becoming more and more famous, eventually attracting people from all over the world.
My pastors were friends with the pastor of the church where we went to get fueled up on revival. This guy had a magnetic personality. He was articulate, fiery, deep, well-reasoned, and had this je ne sais quoi about him... that thing, whatever it is that most great leaders seem to have... that ineffable quality that compels other people to admire them. He had it. He was the one God was using.
He was on my pedestal.
Sometimes after one of the revival services my youth group would be invited to go out to eat with the group of pastors associated with the revival. I remember one such late-night dinner. I was feeling elated at being included in an inner circle of sorts, (even though it was just a bunch of people eating together. But these were the important ones. The anointed ones.) I was feeling elated at the great spiritual experiences I had had in the revival service. I was feeling elated to be sitting just a couple chairs away from... him... The Pastor. And then it happened. I don't really know exactly why it happened. I looked over at him, right in the middle of taking a big bite of his burger, and in a moment infused with the depth of eternity, it struck me that The Pastor was just a human. A normal human like everyone else. He came tumbling down, as my pedestal he was on shattered into pieces.
And I felt angry. Surely he's aware of his humanity... How dare he allow himself to be elevated by all these people? How could I have been so naive? How could everyone else in the room play into this game? (It's only now that I see that the reason people play this game is to try to inflate their own perceived importance by associating with someone "important.")
Since that moment, I have continuously, stubbornly refused to put anyone on a pedestal again. I will happily admire their talents and their discipline in exercising their talents. But I refuse to let myself be too impressed.
There were several times this attitude really helped me. I remember two particular classes--one in my undergrad, and one at the audio engineering school where I got certified--that had professors who had built up quite fearful reputations. "Watch out," the gossip whispered, "Dr. So-and-so is a real hard nose. You will DIE in his class!" In both occasions, this reputation merely reinforced my already-obtained value of not putting anyone on a pedestal, and I entered the classes refusing to be afraid of the professors. In both cases I sat up front, instead of cowering in the back with everyone else. Spine erect, eyes flashing, pencil and paper in hand, I was ready to learn. In both cases I made sure my mind was sharp for the classes, and I pushed back at the professors when they showed their tough sides. In both cases I earned huge respect from them, not to mention high grades.
What is this tendency in us, to build pedestals and put people on them? What creates and feeds a celebrity culture? Is it because most people are blind to their own inner brilliance, so they seek it in others? Why is it so easy to buy into the idea that some people are more important than others?
And yet, even I, defiantly earthy as I am, still occasionally fall into the celebrity mindset, despite myself. Let's be honest. Would I have been as attracted to attend the Subverting the Norm conference if Peter Rollins weren't going to be there? Peter is another of those guys with that celebrity magnetism.
I'll admit... At least once the thought went through my head, "this is the closest I'll probably ever get to him." Yikes! How could I let myself do that again?!!
But if even I was partially motivated by celebrity, I can imagine many many others at the conference had similar motivations, at least in part. Peter Rollins and Phil Snider were the only "famous" people I had heard about from the conference before I went, but when I got there, I realized that there were a few other lightning rod speakers whose personalities could easily allow them to gather followings of groupies. (Not that I'm saying any of these speakers play this game or want this to happen. It's a hard thing to get people not to do...)
Ironically, the celebrity mindset is antithetical to the very nature of the conference. How often did the speakers talk about a weak God, a God of horizontal (not vertical) transcendence, a God of the marginalized, a God who rejects the powerful structures that dehumanize the masses and create hierarchies of importance? And yet, knowing all this, we are still all too ready to ascribe worship...
This is a tension that the conference attendees would do well to explore.
In this light, I see the story of Jesus as an incredibly powerful reproach to our celebrity culture. Remember that famous Messianic Secret, that has befuddled many a New Testament scholar? Why would Jesus not allow others to announce that he was the Messiah? Maybe because he was actively FIGHTING the celebrity culture. He, apparently, had that magnetic draw as well, as we see thousands of people flocking to listen to him speak. And yet, rather than allowing them to put him on a pedestal, he made every attempt to prove himself as humble as they were. He fought the urge to be exalted, even to the point of death. The ultimate crushing of the pedestal.
I was probably about 16 or so. The church I attended through high school had been involved in a revival that was gradually becoming more and more famous, eventually attracting people from all over the world.
I
remember every few months my youth group would pack up into a van and
drive several hours to attend the electrically-charged worship services
at this revival-struck church. We would twitch and shake. We would jump
up and down and scream wildly for Jesus. We would shout our "Amen"s to
the pastor as he preached. We would rush forward at the altar call, to
the heavy beat of deafening praise music, to receive prayer from the
native revivalists shouting passionately into our faces, imploring the
spirit of God to infuse, heal, ignite, empower, embolden, and restore
our souls. We would go home and beg God to let us be the carriers of
revival to OUR church, our schools, our city.
My pastors were friends with the pastor of the church where we went to get fueled up on revival. This guy had a magnetic personality. He was articulate, fiery, deep, well-reasoned, and had this je ne sais quoi about him... that thing, whatever it is that most great leaders seem to have... that ineffable quality that compels other people to admire them. He had it. He was the one God was using.He was on my pedestal.
Sometimes after one of the revival services my youth group would be invited to go out to eat with the group of pastors associated with the revival. I remember one such late-night dinner. I was feeling elated at being included in an inner circle of sorts, (even though it was just a bunch of people eating together. But these were the important ones. The anointed ones.) I was feeling elated at the great spiritual experiences I had had in the revival service. I was feeling elated to be sitting just a couple chairs away from... him... The Pastor. And then it happened. I don't really know exactly why it happened. I looked over at him, right in the middle of taking a big bite of his burger, and in a moment infused with the depth of eternity, it struck me that The Pastor was just a human. A normal human like everyone else. He came tumbling down, as my pedestal he was on shattered into pieces.
And I felt angry. Surely he's aware of his humanity... How dare he allow himself to be elevated by all these people? How could I have been so naive? How could everyone else in the room play into this game? (It's only now that I see that the reason people play this game is to try to inflate their own perceived importance by associating with someone "important.")
Since that moment, I have continuously, stubbornly refused to put anyone on a pedestal again. I will happily admire their talents and their discipline in exercising their talents. But I refuse to let myself be too impressed.
There were several times this attitude really helped me. I remember two particular classes--one in my undergrad, and one at the audio engineering school where I got certified--that had professors who had built up quite fearful reputations. "Watch out," the gossip whispered, "Dr. So-and-so is a real hard nose. You will DIE in his class!" In both occasions, this reputation merely reinforced my already-obtained value of not putting anyone on a pedestal, and I entered the classes refusing to be afraid of the professors. In both cases I sat up front, instead of cowering in the back with everyone else. Spine erect, eyes flashing, pencil and paper in hand, I was ready to learn. In both cases I made sure my mind was sharp for the classes, and I pushed back at the professors when they showed their tough sides. In both cases I earned huge respect from them, not to mention high grades.
What is this tendency in us, to build pedestals and put people on them? What creates and feeds a celebrity culture? Is it because most people are blind to their own inner brilliance, so they seek it in others? Why is it so easy to buy into the idea that some people are more important than others?
And yet, even I, defiantly earthy as I am, still occasionally fall into the celebrity mindset, despite myself. Let's be honest. Would I have been as attracted to attend the Subverting the Norm conference if Peter Rollins weren't going to be there? Peter is another of those guys with that celebrity magnetism.
I'll admit... At least once the thought went through my head, "this is the closest I'll probably ever get to him." Yikes! How could I let myself do that again?!!
But if even I was partially motivated by celebrity, I can imagine many many others at the conference had similar motivations, at least in part. Peter Rollins and Phil Snider were the only "famous" people I had heard about from the conference before I went, but when I got there, I realized that there were a few other lightning rod speakers whose personalities could easily allow them to gather followings of groupies. (Not that I'm saying any of these speakers play this game or want this to happen. It's a hard thing to get people not to do...)
Ironically, the celebrity mindset is antithetical to the very nature of the conference. How often did the speakers talk about a weak God, a God of horizontal (not vertical) transcendence, a God of the marginalized, a God who rejects the powerful structures that dehumanize the masses and create hierarchies of importance? And yet, knowing all this, we are still all too ready to ascribe worship...
This is a tension that the conference attendees would do well to explore.
In this light, I see the story of Jesus as an incredibly powerful reproach to our celebrity culture. Remember that famous Messianic Secret, that has befuddled many a New Testament scholar? Why would Jesus not allow others to announce that he was the Messiah? Maybe because he was actively FIGHTING the celebrity culture. He, apparently, had that magnetic draw as well, as we see thousands of people flocking to listen to him speak. And yet, rather than allowing them to put him on a pedestal, he made every attempt to prove himself as humble as they were. He fought the urge to be exalted, even to the point of death. The ultimate crushing of the pedestal.
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