This Morning

This morning I am thinking about lists.

I am generally opposed to lists. If asked to name my top ______ (five, ten, one hundred) favorite ___________s, the number given is always either too small or too large, and I’m stuck taking things off the list that belong there, or stretching to think of something that isn’t too bad which I can include  with the truly great ones. And of course I always think of better examples once the list is finalized. My wife is a list-maker when it comes to tasks she has to complete, and every time she does it, though it obviously helps her keep track of things, looking at the full list makes her more stressed, because she naturally thinks of ALL of the things she has to do. I’ve found that marking items off of a list is satisfying, but finishing the list is a letdown, because by the time I’m done with the list (if it’s not 2-3 items long, and if it is 2-3 items long it feels like a waste of time making a list) I’ve forgotten the joy of completing the first tasks I marked off, so I have this huge list and I just feel like I did this one last thing, and that’s it.

So I don’t like lists. When it comes to tasks I need to perform, I prefer to do them when I think of them. It allows me to feel a sense of accomplishment regularly, rather than finishing a task and marking it off only to run my gaze over all the other things I have to do, which tends to decrease my sense of accomplishment. True, this does mean that things get lost — I haven’t worked on my novel in two months, because I just kept having school tasks — and my time management is terrible. But I don’t think the efficiency gained from lists is worth the heartache.

All that said, I needed to do something lighter for my blog today, after yesterday’s abortion horror show; so, for no good reason and in no particular order, here is my bucket list.

*See the entire world. All of it. From the highest mountain peak to the lowest valley. I want to see all the ugly parts first, and then all the beautiful ones. I’d like to finish up with seeing all of the ugly places that have become beautiful in the time I’ve been looking at everything.

*Learn to speak every language, and visit every country and culture.

*Meet the youngest and oldest persons in every country and culture. Also the happiest and the saddest, the best and the worst. Keep looking until I find one person who is both extremes of a single category.

*Meet the most famous artist and the least famous but most talented artist in every country and culture, for every art. Like and appreciate the least famous one every single time.

*Learn about and understand every religion. Accept that all of them are false, and that the world would be better off without them (Hey, wait — I already did that last part! I can mark this off my list! Go me!).

*Spend time with the Dalai Lama, because even if religion is toxic, he’s the coolest man in the world. If possible, take drugs with him and watch him ascend to a higher plane of consciousness right in front of me.

*Read every book.

*Separate all the books into good books and bad books, and eliminate all the bad books. Remove them from the world, and from human consciousness so the authors of the bad books don’t have to feel bad about themselves for being on the bad list. (But I will remember.)

*Travel to the center of the Earth. Ride a dinosaur.

*Be named the sexiest man alive, and refuse to accept the title.

*Grow gills and immunity to pressure, and then swim everywhere in the ocean.

*Take the perfect nap.

See every band I love live. Buy all the t-shirts and deny seeing the show every time someone comments on them.

*Eat the perfect meal, and decide that I like donuts and coffee better.

*Sample all of the finest coffees in the world, create my own blend that is the perfect mix of the very best coffees, the drinking of which will allow one to follow the Dalai Lama to the higher plane.

*Master typing so that I never again make a mistake and have to hit the backspace key.

*Experience life as a woman.

*Smash the patriarchy.

*Experience life as a dog.

*Eliminate all hatred and prejudice. Also, Mitch McConnell. With extreme prejudice, like prejudice’s last hurrah is all heaped on that fucking guy.

*Experience life as a sloth. Or maybe a hummingbird. I dunno, though — do you think they get annoyed easily? Like are all hummingbirds Type A personalities?

*Put my consciousness into a machine and travel into the virtual world.

*Go to Wonderland. Have tea with the Mad Hatter and the March Hare. Have a rap battle with either or both of them. Win.

*Slap Donald Trump unconscious. Shave his head. Braid his hair into a mystical gag that he will never be able to take off, so that no one will ever have to listen to him speak, ever again. Curse him with eternal life until he actually learns to listen to everyone else.

*Burn the military-industrial complex to the ground. Salt the earth where its bones lie.

*Eliminate the need for government world wide, creating a perfect system of justice so that everyone can live in peace and harmony without being exploited or neglected.

*Discover a previously unknown tropical island, preferably one hidden by a mystic cloud of mist or one newly formed by volcano but old enough to have grown vegetation. Build a sprawling estate on it, with secret rooms, palapas  to enjoy the cool ocean breezes, underground grottoes with brightly colored mineral deposits in the walls and cool ponds to swim in, and hammocks and bookshelves in every room.

*Rescue all the dogs  and let them all stay with me on my island. Bring everyone who abuses dogs there so all the dogs can stare at them disappointedly  until they understand the weight of their guilt– and if they never do, let the dogs tear them to pieces and then feed them to the crabs.

*Learn to play every musical instrument, and then make beautiful music every night under the stars to serenade my millions of rescued dogs.

*Write the very best novel that I can write. Appreciate it for what it is, and don’t regret it for what it is not.

*Love my wife forever, and actually make her understand perfectly how much I love her, without having to use weak words and silly gestures of affection to do it.

 

*Go to other planets. Start over again.  (Bring the dogs. And my wife.)

This Morning

This morning, unfortunately, I am thinking about abortion.

And since I’ve been doing it for four hours, now, while I’ve been writing this, it is no longer morning. I am not happy about this. But why should I be?

None of us should think about abortion. None of us should have to. There should be no unwanted pregnancies. Birth control should be universally effective and universally available, and no one should ever be a victim of rape.

To be clear right from the outset: the simplest and most effective way to eliminate unwanted pregnancies, and therefore to put an end to abortion, is to give every man a  vasectomy as early as is practicable. Vasectomies are simple, safe, reversible, and extremely effective birth control. [Information here]

However: since not every vasectomy is reversible — and in fact, it is easier to reverse a vasectomy the sooner it is done after the initial procedure, which tends to put a damper on my “as early as practicable” plan — even this system does not ensure there will be no unwanted pregnancies. There is no way, with our current understanding of medicine and fertility, to ensure there are no unwanted pregnancies without additional unwanted consequences.

Therefore we have to think about abortion.

I would like to limit this post to the logical, rational aspect of the debate. The rational argument regarding abortion hinges on definitions, and on rights, and essentially, it all comes down to one question: is abortion murder? Because if abortion is murder, then the pro-choice argument can’t proceed; there can’t be a legal nor a rational argument for murder. If abortion is not murder, then a woman’s right to choose can override the needs of the infant.

This was pointed out to me in a recent Facebook debate, and the person who commented to this effect also pointed out that the abortion debate never comes to a final decision on this critical question — neither side. And indeed, though the overall debate where that comment was made went on for scores of posts, not one person touched that specific comment  that tried to get to — or at least point out the way to — the heart of the matter. I suspect that the reason is because we have such a hard time separating the two aspects of this debate, the logical and the emotional; which is why I’m going to do it here. Because logically, I think it is clear that abortion is not murder, but emotionally, it certainly feels like it to a lot of people — people who generally come down on the pro-life side because of that feeling.

That’s why I’m starting with this argument: because I think it is simpler. Not easier to deal with or accept, but simpler to make and to understand. And because it is not easier to deal with, I’m spending all of this time hemming and hawing, hedging and prefacing everything I want to say. But enough waffling. Here we go.

(One brief note: because I am trying to remove emotion, I’m going to use the term “infant” or “child.” Fetus and baby are both too charged and aligned to specific sides of the debate.)

Is abortion murder? It is not, for two reasons: the definition of murder, and the unique status of the unborn child within the mother.

The definition of murder: “Murder occurs when one human being unlawfully kills another human being.” Wex Legal Dictionary  Therefore, since abortion is currently legal in this country, abortion is not legally murder.

Of course that’s an oversimplification. But there are two considerations that also prevent abortion from being murder. One is the mother’s intent in killing the infant. Murder statutes contain some element of intent: first degree murder is generally predicated on the idea of “malice aforethought,” or premeditation and intent to harm. While abortion is of course premeditated, there is clearly no malice present. Women who get abortions are not intentionally seeking the death of the infant: they are seeking the termination of the pregnancy. I can’t really imagine a scenario where a woman seeks an abortion with malicious intent, abortion sought expressly to harm the infant; such a scenario would require a highly disturbed woman, one I would term a psychopath, and such an extreme case does not define the standard. I presume in most cases, women regret the inevitable death of the infant as a necessary but horrible part of the intended goal.

So at most, an abortion is some form of manslaughter, unintended homicide, or accidental death. But I would argue that it is not any of those: rather an abortion is justifiable homicide (if it is homicide at all, which I’ll get to in a while with the question of fetal personhood) because the mother is acting in self-defense.

Wex defines self-defense this way: “The use of force to protect oneself from an attempted injury by another.  If justified, self-defense is a defense to a number of crimes and torts involving force, including murderassault and battery. ” Law.com offers a fuller explanation:

self-defense

n. the use of reasonable force to protect oneself or members of the family from bodily harm from the attack of an aggressor, if the defender has reason to believe he/she/they is/are in danger. Self-defense is a common defense by a person accused of assault, battery or homicide. The force used in self-defense may be sufficient for protection from apparent harm (not just an empty verbal threat) or to halt any danger from attack, but cannot be an excuse to continue the attack or use excessive force. Examples: an unarmed man punches Allen Alibi, who hits the attacker with a baseball bat. That is legitimate self-defense, but Alibi cannot chase after the attacker and shoot him or beat him senseless. If the attacker has a gun or a butcher knife and is verbally threatening, Alibi is probably warranted in shooting him. Basically, appropriate self-defense is judged on all the circumstances. Reasonable force can also be used to protect property from theft or destruction. Self-defense cannot include killing or great bodily harm to defend property, unless personal danger is also involved, as is the case in most burglaries, muggings or vandalism.

Source

An abortion is a woman’s attempt to protect herself from harm. She may justifiably use force to do it, even lethal force, which is necessitated in this instance, because there is no way to stop the pregnancy without killing the infant.

Absurd, you may say; an unborn child is not a danger to its mother. But of course it is. It is a danger to the mother’s health — and quite a serious one — and a threat to the mother’s life: 700  women die each year in the U.S. from pregnancy or childbirth. [Source] 26.4 maternal deaths per 100,000 live births. (Three or more times the rate in other industrialized Western countries, by the way. Makes one question the argument that America respects the sanctity of life, particularly since the majority of deaths in childbirth are preventable. Information here.

But there’s more than that. Because life is not the only right that a woman has to protect: she has a right to liberty, as well.

Pregnancy is enslavement. It is biologically, as the infant uses hormones to control the mother in every possible way, causing biological changes that last for the rest of her life; it is, without the right to abort, legally enslavement, as a woman is required to surrender her bodily sovereignty to the child. I think there cannot be any argument that one would have the right to use force to defend one’s self against enslavement. The right to liberty is not less important than the right to life: both are inherent, both are inalienable, both are necessary components of our existence as distinct individual persons.  And in pregnancy, these two rights — the mother’s right to liberty and the child’s right to life —  are in conflict. For the child’s right to be protected, the mother must lose her right, and vice versa.

There is no way around this conflict. Perhaps someday we will have the technology to remove an infant from a woman at whatever stage she wishes to terminate the pregnancy, and then gestate that child to full term; but our attempts to create an artificial womb are extremely preliminary — and if we do ever manage to produce such a device, it will only exacerbate the issue of overpopulation, particularly within the already burdened foster care system. But regardless, we can’t do that yet, so for a woman to terminate a pregnancy — the only way to retain control over her own body, her own person — is to kill the child.

Most people who are pro-life but not anti-woman argue that the woman’s consent to sex is what removes her right to liberty, that this is essentially a contract she has entered into and she must surrender her bodily sovereignty as the “consequence of her action;” but this falls apart for several reasons. First, consent to sex is not consent to pregnancy, and consent to pregnancy is not consent to carrying an infant to term and giving birth, and carrying an infant to term is not consent to motherhood. That is not how consent works. Consent must be informed, positive, and constant: contracts have termination clauses. The contract is only legally binding as long as both parties continue to agree to it. A more fraught but more appropriate analogy is consent to sex: if at any point a person having sex removes their consent to the continuation of the sex, it is no longer consensual; it becomes rape. Instantly. We can argue about whether both parties are  aware of the removal of consent and therefore whether the rape is prosecutable — but there’s no question of its definition. Consent to sex one minute does not even imply consent to sex the next minute: how could it possibly imply consent to nine months of pregnancy? To a lifetime of motherhood?

Furthermore, consent has to be informed, and not based on deception or fraud. Contracts cannot be put forth as promising one thing, but actually promising something else: if I sign a contract but don’t read the fine print, it is legally binding — but not if I was told I was signing a contract to buy a toaster, when in fact I was signing a contract to give away my car. Not even if the fine print said so. Subsequent consequences are also not part of a contract: if I agree to teach for the next school year, it does not oblige me to teach for the year after that, not even if that is expected, not even if that is what  the school wants, not even if that is what happens 99% of the time. So unless the woman intentionally, knowingly, before the  sex  act, consents and expresses her consent to pregnancy, then that consent is not implied by consent to the sex act.

People argue that pregnancy is a natural and expected consequence of sex, but it isn’t: because the cause and effect relationship is not direct. Each instance of sex does not create an instance of pregnancy. Even when people are trying, and doing everything possible to get pregnant, it frequently requires more than a single instance of sex to produce a pregnancy. Sex increases the probability of becoming pregnant, and that is all. It is, of course, a necessity for pregnancy to happen (Except in the case of artificial insemination), but that doesn’t tell us the probability of pregnancy happening from a sex act. Imagine if we could always know, with certainty, when pregnancy would result from sex: if a tiny imp popped up next to a couple right before sex and said, “Hi! This sex act will result in a pregnancy,” can you imagine how often that sex act would not occur? If that surety existed, then we could logically argue that a woman’s consent to sex was also consent to pregnancy, because the consent would be informed, the consequences known and assured; but it doesn’t work that way. So while there is some reasonable expectation of the probable results, they are not sufficiently causally connected to associate consequences with them. The best we can do is argue that the known chance of the increased probability of pregnancy implies some logical consideration of the probable results, but since we can’t make an informed prediction of pregnancy, we certainly can’t say that a woman should lose her unalienable right to liberty based on a possibility.

An analogy: if I walk into the street, there is a known chance that I will be hit by a car and killed. If someone drives their car down the street, there is a known chance that they will hit and kill a pedestrian. Neither result is possible without that initial choice to create the conditions necessary for the result, but the choice to walk into the street is not the choice to be hit by a car, and the choice to drive down the street is not the choice to hit a pedestrian: if I get hit by a car when I only intended to walk, it would not be suicide; and if someone hits me when their only intent was to drive, then it wouldn’t be first degree murder with malice aforethought. There are subsequent choices with direct connections to the result, which are the determining factors: if I walk directly in front of the car without allowing it time to stop, then it does become suicide; if the car sees me and refuses to stop, it becomes murder. Even though the initial choice of walking or driving was a necessary pre-requisite for the later choices, that initial choice does not imply the later choice. There are also conditions entirely out of each person’s control that are determining factors: how fast the car is moving, how quickly I cross the street, the visibility, our separate reaction times, the functionality of the car’s brakes and the surface of the street, and so on, so on. A thousand things that determine whether I live or die, and even though my choice to walk into the street is necessary  for me to be hit by a car, it is clearly not the only cause of it.

Coming back out of the analogy: a woman becomes an intentional carrier of a pregnancy to term when she chooses to do so — in other words, when she decides not to have an abortion, she becomes a mother, at least of her unborn infant. She did not choose to become a mother when she had sex: because otherwise there would be women who chose to be mothers (by choosing to have sex) yet did not become pregnant and do not have children, and that removes all sense from the definition of motherhood.

So here we are: consent to sex does not logically imply consent to pregnancy (A brief repetition of that argument, because it is crucial: if consent to sex implies consent either to what is possible afterwards, and/or what is best for the child, then consent to sex should also imply a commitment to child-rearing on the part of the father, because that is what is best for the child. In other words, if a man has sex with a woman, he is marrying her and agreeing to provide her with a stable home and life partnership. Also, if the mother dies in childbirth, then it should be considered either suicide, as she consented to the possibility of her own death when she consented to the sex act, or murder on the part of the man who impregnated her and created that result with his choice to have sex with her, since pregnancy and death in childbirth are known potential consequences of the sex act, which could not occur without the sex act. These would be logically consistent positions. Does anyone hold them?), and therefore a woman who has sex cannot be considered to have given up her right to liberty  voluntarily. The conflict between mother and child is a conflict between two unalienable rights, the child’s right to life and the mother’s right to liberty, neither of which is necessarily more important than the other, but either of which would justify the loss of a right to the other party — that is, if the child’s right to life is paramount, then the mother should justifiably lose her right to liberty; if the mother’s right to liberty is paramount, then the child should justifiably lose its right to life. Simply saying “Wait nine months and the conflict will be resolved” is not acceptable; imagine if I was holding a gun to your head and threatening your life, but I promised to stop after nine months — clearly that doesn’t mean you can’t fight back against me to remove the threat  to your life, nor, I would argue, to your liberty.

So who wins?

The final piece of this argument is personhood. Only living persons have unalienable rights to life and liberty — though it is an interesting argument that the dead have the right to bodily sovereignty because we cannot legally take their organs to save the living — so if the mother and child are both persons, then it becomes difficult to argue who has the right to decide the outcome. (Not impossible, and I’ll try to get to that one too. Hold on.) But here is the final answer: An unborn child is not a person, and does not have a legal or logical right to life.

This is something of an ugly position, and even I don’t like all the implications of it. But it is impossible to determine otherwise. Because personhood, as a legal concept, has to come with autonomy: there is simply no way to legally protect a person’s rights if that person cannot be separated from another person in a meaningful sense.

Let’s begin with twins as a test case. First, the argument that a unique genetic code, created at the moment of conception, is the defining characteristic of personhood, falls apart with identical twins. Because there you have two people with identical, non-unique genetic codes, and yet they are not considered the same individual in two bodies, even though monozygotic twins came from a single fertilized ovum — which supposedly gained personhood at the moment of conception, before the moment of separation into two separate twins. But if I marry one twin, I am not simultaneously married to the other; if one commits a capital crime, we do not execute them both. Unique genes are not the standard for personhood. Also, let me note that mothers and children exchange genetic material during pregnancy: and so the mother is a part of the child and the child is a part of the mother on the most basic level. (Also let me note, for the sake of fairness, that this exchange of cells is probably quite beneficial for the mother, much of the time; but it can also lead to serious consequences, including cancer and an increased chance of future miscarriages. The article has more. Microchimerism. Fascinating stuff.)

So if the child is part of the mother and the mother is part of the child, then the pregnancy should be seen as somewhat akin to conjoined twins. There’s a video I watched, from Steven Crowder, in which Mr. Crowder (A pro-life sophist — change my mind.) asks his pro-choice opponent how many hearts a pregnant woman has, how many toes, how many spinal cords and so on. He was trying to get the young man he was debating to accept that the mother and child are two unique, separate individuals: but clearly they are not. This article and this article both show how intertwined the two beings are: the infant relies on the mother for everything, from oxygen to nutrition, and invades the mother’s body via hormones in order to serve its needs to her detriment; at the same time, the mother receives health benefits from the child as part of the gestational process, in order to protect the child. It is not reasonable therefore to call the child a parasite — but neither can they be separated and both live.

Like conjoined twins. And I would ask Mr. Crowder: if conjoined twins share a torso, how many hearts do they have? How many lungs? How many livers? If we imagine a case where two conjoined twins share a single liver– which was indeed the circumstance of Chang and Eng Bunker, the eponymous Siamese twins — then we have two persons, two individuals, with one liver; thus it shouldn’t be any more distressing to accept that twenty fingers and twenty toes and two hearts can very easily be contained in one person, when one person contains a second being. Clearly we define personhood not by number of organs and not by unique genetic code. These are elements, naturally, but not exclusive ones.

The way we define personhood philosophically is through two elements: body and mind. The body must have autonomous viability — in other words, it has to be able to exist on its own — and there must be a unique mind and sentience. If I think of a future where my mind has been destroyed by disease or misfortune, even if my body continues to survive, I would not conceive of myself as the same person I am now. Similarly, if my mind and thoughts were removed from my body and put into a different body, then I would not be the same person I am now. These seem self-evident to me. I am aware that pro-life people do not want them to be: because the only logical conclusion from these two elements of personhood is that an unborn, pre-sentient child, which would not be viable outside of the womb, is not a person. But that’s the problem with logical argument: the conclusions cannot be escaped, even if they are against what we would wish.

Here’s the other side of that: it implies that a sentient unborn infant does have some sort of personhood, at least potential personhood; this means that elective abortion in the last trimester should not be legal, and if sentience in the developing infant is provable prior to that, then abortion should not be legal post sentience. That leaves us with one question: what to do in the case of medical necessity, where the life of the mother is at risk should the pregnancy continue through the third trimester?

But you see, despite what fanatics may argue, this has already been resolved, in the only way that makes any sense: in the case of a viable infant, labor would be induced or (much more likely) an emergency C-section would result in a premature infant who is then cared for in the NICU. In the case of a non-viable infant, one that could not live on its own, late-term abortion may be the safer course for preserving the mother’s life: and since a child that could not live does not have the same right to life that the mother does, not being a full person as it lacks one of the two necessities of personhood, then the law must allow for such a procedure in such an extreme circumstance. This is precisely the legal status of abortion at this very moment in this country: abortion is legal while the child is non-sentient and non-viable, and therefore is not a person; abortion is legal after sentience only when the mother’s life is at risk and the child is not viable. If the child has both viability and sentience, then separation is possible without death, and that is the right solution.  The goal is and should be to find a medical solution to the problem, a way to separate mother and child while preserving the rights of both.

But when that solution is not available, then the mother has the right to abort the child.

There are a last few loose ends: one is whether or not my definition of personhood implies that I would lose the right to exist were I in a vegetative state, whether I am a full person if I am brain dead. The answer is that I would not be a full person without sentience, but first, that sentience is not always detectable and so there should be some benefit of the doubt (This is why abortion is often limited to before 20 weeks of pregnancy, to give the benefit of the doubt to the infant who may be sentient; there is still some debate to be had over this, but it is a particular issue and not what I’m talking about today), and second, that I would retain the right to live only so long as I was not impinging therefore on another person’s unalienable rights. If my survival required that someone else be chained to my bed so that they could provide me with constant CPR, to blow air into my mouth every thirty seconds forever, to constantly push blood through my heart one hundred times a minute, in order to make up for my lungs and heart that could not sustain my life, then clearly I would die, since I have no right to make someone else breathe for me, to make someone else’s heart beat for me. If a machine could do it, well and good; and so for the theoretical artificial womb of the future.

But I have no right to make someone else breathe for me. To make someone else provide me with nutrition straight from their blood stream, to carry my body within their own, to risk certain injury and pain and suffering and damage in order to provide me with a life I could not have on my own.

Another loose end is the question of a woman’s right to bodily sovereignty, and whether or not continuous informed consent is still necessary up to the very end of pregnancy, or if a mother could choose to have an infant removed after, say, eight months of pregnancy simply because she no longer wishes to be pregnant. Logically, I would say that a woman could very well make that choice so long as it would not risk the rights of the child, who if viable and sentient has some right to personhood; but as I understand it, there is an unacceptably high risk to the child if it were to be surgically removed at the mother’s say-so. So there is some gray area when it comes to consent on the mother’s part as well, and at some point– around the point of viability and sentience, around the 6th month of pregnancy and the start of the third trimester — she does in fact lose some of her ability to choose. She can no longer choose not to be pregnant without taking the child into consideration.

But that’s the last point I want to make. If there is anyone who can reasonably be asked to make the decision for the child, it has to be the mother. Who else? Who do we ask to make decisions for born children, including decisions that many people might disagree with? Who, for instance, decides to give a child up for adoption? Despite the fact that such a choice clearly runs counter to the ideal of a nuclear family and the Western adoration of children? Even though the child may absolutely oppose such a choice? We ask parents to make those decisions for their children, because we assume that they are the ones most qualified and most likely to do the right thing for their own children; because children are not capable of making an informed, rational choice. Why would we ever take that choice away from a mother? Who else could possibly make it better?

It is, therefore, not only a woman’s right to choose: it is a woman’s responsibility to choose. Hers before all others’. Even the child’s.

This Morning

This morning, I am done with grades. This morning is the last of my school year.

This morning I received notification that California has approved my application for a teaching license. This doesn’t change my immediate plans, I will still be staying in Tucson for the next academic year; but it gives us more options for the year after that. It also shows, I think, that my sordid past is now behind me, because if even the champion nanny state approved me, I don’t think anyone will say nay because I was mean on a blog almost ten years ago.

More importantly, this morning is the last of my wife’s career as a teacher. She returns now to doing what she always should have been doing: making art full time. She has been a wonderful teacher, who has helped many students to improve their skills, gain confidence and interest in art, and especially to see the world in a different way; she will be sorely missed at school. But this is the best thing for her, and this is what is right: because look. Just look.

 

 

 

So congratulations, Toni. You have more than earned this. I am so proud of you for what you have done as a teacher, and I’m even more proud that you are walking away from it to dedicate yourself to art. You amaze me every day.

Especially this morning.

This Morning

This morning I’m thinking about advice.

I give advice quite often. I’m a teacher, so my students ask my opinion on — well, everything they think I’d be willing to talk about. They ask about English, of course, about what advice I can give them to improve their writing, or which book I think they should read, or how they can raise their test scores or their grades. But also, because they like and trust and respect me, they ask about their lives, and they ask for my opinion on that, too: what do I think about dating. What do I think about partying — read, drinking and using recreational drugs. What do I think about college. Sometimes they ask me about whatever nonsense they can think of just because the longer they keep me talking, the less actual schoolwork they have to do that day. And knowing that, I generally let them distract and derail me, because I think they have every right to take a hand in steering where the class goes, and if they want to waste a day, they probably have a reason for wasting the day; I think their reason for wasting the day probably has more behind it than my reason for wanting to go ahead, which is generally, “Because I thought we would.” When it’s a more serious reason — they need to prepare for the AP test, for instance — then I’m less flexible and they don’t push as hard. It works out.

Anyway, that’s just in my job. I also have friends who are younger than me and who are newer teachers, and they ask me for advice because of my experience. I keep this blog, and in the process of expressing my opinion on matters, I almost always give opinions that lean towards advice, that at least indicate what I think people should do, if not tell them outright. My wife asks me for my opinion, though that doesn’t actually come out as advice, I think; just my opinion. I don’t think I’m smarter or wiser than her, so I don’t tell her what to do. (I’ve given her teaching advice, but not much because she doesn’t need it. I give her writing advice on the once-every-five-years occasion when she has something she needs to write.)

Also, since I am a white male American, I do have my mansplaining moments. (I actually talked with a guy on Facebook who doesn’t believe that mansplaining happens, nor manspreading. Called them things that feminists made up to insult men. I don’t know how people can be that oblivious. Especially with manspreading: have you ever been on public transportation?

Image result for manspreading

Oh, but he’s reading a book, so it’s all right.

What I wanted to do today is to give some advice to the advisers. Because I know I’m not alone, but I have recently become more aware of my bad habits when it comes to advice; I think other people should be more aware of their bad advice habits, too.

The first is the mansplaining tendency. (I also manspread, but I’m a teacher, so I don’t generally share space with other people — I sit behind my desk or in my Lecturin’ Chair at the front of the room, while all my students are in their individual desks facing me. I also don’t take public transportation. When I do, I sit as compactly as I can. I think I probably forget to do the same in shared seating like at movie theaters and such, and if you’ve sat next to me and had less space because of me, I’m sorry. Feel free to punch me in the kneecap.) This is the sexist version, but there are a thousand versions that have nothing to do with gender: I am far more often guilty of teachersplaining than I am of mansplaining. I try to explain things all day long, so I slip into the habit and end up explaining things to people who don’t need the explanation — one of the best was early in my teaching career when I found a funny passage in a book, read it out loud to my wife, and paused halfway through to explain a word. The look she gave me before she very dryly — and very patiently, though still at the far edge of that patience — said, “I know what it means, Dusty,” has stuck with me ever since. But though I don’t explain things to her very often (I do sometimes, but it’s more like I’m talking out loud, or trying to make things clear in my own head, and it only sounds like I’m explaining something condescendingly — so like if she said, “Do we need to take the car in to the mechanic?” I might say, “The guy who fixes engines? Sure, we can do that.” It’s not that I’m explaining to her what a mechanic is, it’s that I’m clarifying that the car needs a tune-up and not that we need to take it to Firestone to get new tires. It’s a dumb example, but fitting, I think. I’ll ask my wife. She knows better than me.), I do it all the time to my students, and to other teachers, and to almost anyone who will give me the space to ramble on about what things mean or how they work — like my very kind and patient readers on here, because the only thing I do as much as teachersplaining is definitely blogsplaining.

This problem is also exacerbated by the fact that some people really do need the explanation. That dude who thought that mansplaining wasn’t really a thing needs a lesson in what mansplaining is and why men do it. Americans need lots of patient explanation from people who have been other places in the world and understand more about how the world works outside of these four walls — I mean, borders. (No, I mean walls. Also, Mr. Trump could really use some explanation in how walls work, and how they don’t.) White people need some –racesplaining? Colorsplaining? — if they hold any of those beliefs about white people being oppressed. And so on.

But it is a problem, nonetheless, when people try to explain things that don’t need explaining. It’s condescending and insulting, and it wastes huge amounts of time — especially because lots of people probably just wait it out, the way most women do with most men. Aware that they’re being condescended to, unwilling to turn the current discussion into a fight about said condescension when the condescender is just trying to help. But that’s the thing: help is not always necessary, and when it’s not necessary, it is actually a burden. A simple analogy: if you’re trying to climb out of a pool, and someone crouches down on the lip and tries to haul you out, that person is much more of a hindrance than a help because they’re in the way of you leaping out of the pool and onto the lip like a beached whale, and there’s no way they can get enough leverage or enough of a grip to actually lift your weight without simultaneously giving you an atomic wedgie.

So think of that. Think of whether or not someone needs your help, and if they don’t, maybe just try to stay back and out of the way.

That’s probably the best advice I can give to myself and to those others who give too much advice: not everyone needs your (my) help. People who do need help don’t need it all the time. Sometimes a person who is talking about a problem just needs to talk it out, just needs to express their thoughts in order to vent emotional steam or to clarify exactly what should be done, because thoughts are amorphous but words are definite, and so the process of putting things into words often makes the thoughts more clear.

In case you didn’t understand why people talk.

(See how annoying that can be?)

When someone just wants to express their feelings, all you need to do is listen, and make clear that you are listening, that the person is being heard. That’s actually all you need to say: “I’m listening. I hear you.” Express an opinion: “That sucks. That sounds really hard.” Maybe even a hope: “I hope it gets better.”

And how do you know if they actually want advice? It’s easy: they will ask. If you are listening and they know you are listening, and they want to know what you think they should do, in my experience they will almost always reach the end of their thoughts and then say, “So what do you think I should do?” That there is your signal to leap into advising action. Go nuts. Say everything you think. It’s your time to shine.

Then there’s one more thing you need to remember, especially if you are a parent or a teacher or someone of authority giving advice to young people: advice is not instruction. You can give advice, you can be heard and understood — and then the person you gave the advice to may do exactly the opposite of what you told them they should do. They will do it consciously, fully aware that what they are doing is not what you advised, and that you would probably disapprove of their actions. If you’re lucky, that simple act of defiance is not their actual goal, but even if it is, there’s nothing you can do but take it. I mean, if you are an authority figure, you can punish them for not listening to you; but that’s not going to go anywhere useful. If what the young person did was stupid, I would maybe say I was disappointed that they did the stupid thing I told them not to do, but since they already knew that when they did it, it wouldn’t be a strong point.

Young people make choices. They do so based on what seem like reasonable criteria at the time. You telling them that their choice was wrong, based on entirely different criteria, is not going to matter, unless they also think their choice was wrong; and then the best thing you can do is try to help them figure out better criteria. So when I threw a party in high school and WAY more people than I invited showed up, and they wrecked my house, I didn’t need to know my mother disapproved of what I did; I already knew that. I didn’t need to know that what I did was wrong and stupid; I already knew that. What I needed was a way to ensure that having fun with my friends did not turn into an open invitation to people who were not my friends to come and screw up my fun. I needed to be able to stop people before they came into my house, and say, “Go away, you are not welcome.” I did in fact learn to do that, though not because my mother helped me work it out.

I think the best thing we can do for young people is be as honest with them as we possibly can, and try to help them find good criteria for decisions. Try to get them to have a plan in case things go wrong. Help them to know what to do in an emergency — seems like good advice regardless, since emergencies come up even when we don’t make bad choices. We can’t stop them from doing wrong things, or from making bad choices; all we can do is try to help them understand what went wrong, and how to deal with it afterwards. They’re going to learn from their mistakes, and not from our advice.

Which means maybe we should stop giving it.

Maybe I should stop giving it.

I’m listening.

This Morning

This morning I’m thinking about crime and punishment. Sin and redemption, maybe.

Our school got vandalized this past weekend. The new mural, which my wife’s art students have been working on for months, was severely damaged: they spraypainted racist and sexist words, large phalluses, and extremely stupid pro-drug comments all over it. We don’t know who did it, but whoever it was clearly targeted the mural specifically, as nothing else was damaged (A couple of small tags in the parking lot are the only other marks left behind).

I have no idea why someone would do that. You’re pissed off? Sure, that’s fine; do something about it, confront people, post on the internet that you’re mad, write a letter, hell, stand outside with a sign and say “YOU SUCK!” There are a thousand ways to express your anger, most of them very satisfying. What the hell do you get from something like this? Is it funny to be cruel to innocent people? My presumption is that the anger of those who did it was directed either at the school or at humanity and the world in general; so why go after the artwork being created by people you don’t hate? And if you do hate them, why go after that?

If we do catch who did it — and it was reported to the police as a hate crime, as indeed it was — then their punishment probably won’t be enough, because it probably won’t fix the problem: someone who thinks this is the way to go about expressing your anger is only going to continue targeting the wrong victims in the wrong ways. I don’t know how you fix that.

I know how you fix the mural, though. I know because the students and staff at the school did that yesterday, as soon as the vandalism was discovered. The people who had been leading the mural project were seniors, so they weren’t at the school as they graduated this weekend; two of them did come by, intending to work on the mural, which was unfinished; when they saw what had been done to it, it crushed them. It was the rest of the school, out of affection for those young artists — and for my wife, who was helping out with the mural mainly in an advisory role, though she did also put several difficult hours of work into it — who took it upon themselves to try to clean off the spraypaint, and then to re-paint the original design so as to cover up what could not be removed.

It’s not fixed. It’s not finished; there is still a lot of work that needs to be done. The alumni who were leading it are not sure yet if they want to try to finish the piece, because clearly, it is vulnerable and it is a target, and there’s very little stopping the vandals from coming back and doing it all again. If our artists decided to take the risk, and put whatever spirit they have left into finishing this mural, only to have it defaced a second time? It would be devastating.

That would be a hate crime. That would be vandalism, in the sense of meaningless destruction. And there wouldn’t be enough punishment for people who would do that.

This Morning

This morning I am happy. My senior students graduated yesterday; I was the MC for the ceremony, which meant I was nervous and uncomfortable all day leading up to it — because regardless of how much time I spend in front of a classroom full of students, it doesn’t take away my stage fright or my introversion. And also, a classroom full of students is quite different from a gymnasium filled with probably 500 people, including parents and grandparents and all of my fellow teachers and my administrators and my wife. Much more nerve-wracking.

But it went well, my speech was well-received, I made my former students cry. Here, for the sake of those who did hear it and want to remember, is my speech; it won’t mean a whole lot to people who don’t know these kids, but these kids aren’t the only ones who suit these words, so feel free to substitute your own children or students for the ones I was talking to and about.

Ladies and gentlemen, friends and family, students, teachers, administrators – and, of course, graduates.

Welcome to the Graduation Ceremony for the Class of 2019!

(to the grads) I bet some of you thought you wouldn’t make it here today. But you did it. All of you: you did it.

You had help – parents, siblings, relatives; teachers, and friends – and all your online friends, YouTube, Khan Academy, Quizlet, Yahoo answers, Wikipedia, Sparknotes, Slader, 123HelpMe.com.

But the point is: you did the real work. You spent the late nights, and the all-nights; the early mornings, the lunchtimes and the passing periods, cramming and studying and reviewing and furiously finishing assignments. You’ve gone through thousands of sheets of paper, hundreds of pencils and pens, gallons of energy drinks, an average of fourteen Hydroflasks each, and a literal ton of hot Cheetos. You sweated through the tests, the essays, the labs, the presentations. You fought through the despair, and stress, anxiety and depression, fear and anger and sadness and happiness – because honestly, nothing makes it harder to sit down to a test than when you’re having a really good day.

You did all of that. All of it. Make no mistake: if anyone tries to minimize this accomplishment, to tell you that this was easy, that it is not impressive – don’t listen. This is impressive. You are impressive. You made it. High school – all school – is rough. And you’ve made it.

And I only have one thing to say to you: don’t let the door hit you in the butt on the way out.

Seriously – and I say it with love – get out. Go away and don’t come back. We’re all as tired of you as you are of us, and we’re all going to breathe a huge sigh of relief when you all have left. This is one of the most – let’s say “challenging” – classes I think this school has ever seen.

Want to know why?

You’re one of the smartest classes this school has ever seen.

You’re so smart, all of you, that it has been impossible to keep up with you. Impossible to consistently challenge you. Impossible to control you. Speaking from my experience, trying to run a discussion with all of you was insane: too many of you had things to say, and if you didn’t get to say them to the class, you would say them to each other, all at once. It was chaos.

You all burn so brightly that you draw all the air from the room – and because this school, these rooms, are so small, there wasn’t that much air to begin with. I honestly think that’s why you fought so much with each other: too many lions in too small a cage. It was a daily struggle to be on top, to stand out, to show how good you are individually, among all these other amazing people.

So. Now’s your chance.

You’ve been held in this small space, like a flower in a too-small pot, for too. Long. Now – you are free. Free to grow as tall and as grand and as glorious as you can. You will overshadow this place. You will tower over us, spread far beyond us.

I cannot wait to see what you all become.

So get out.

There was a keynote speaker, of course, a NASA scientist and actor who happens to be related to one of our newest alumni. I thought he did a great job with his speech — but I couldn’t help noticing that he leaned pretty heavily on clichés. He was actually quite up front about it: part of his theme was using Google (or technology in general) to find what you need, which was fine since he was talking to a STEM school; but the Commencement Speeches he Googled were apparently pretty generic. It was good and useful advice, but — generic.

So I thought I would write some of my own advice. Here, then, is something like what I would say if I were to be the keynote speaker at a graduation. This is what I would tell a group of students who were about to leave high school and embark on the adult part of their lives — also known as “the good part.”

 

Speeches like this are always full of clichés. Now, I don’t dislike clichés; I think most of them are true, and have genuinely useful things to say. Clever sayings don’t become clichés if they aren’t true, and truth isn’t talked about unless it is cleverly worded; so pay attention to clichés. At the same time, though, be aware of when the overuse of clichés clouds the message: because it’s a rarely known biological fact that people’s ears go deaf while that person is rolling their eyes. Think of them like memes: they are great, they make you laugh and make you think; then you get tired of them; then they’re dead. Clichés are like your favorite food: you can fall back on them when you have nothing new that sounds good; but you can also get tired of even your very favorite food, and that is a sad day.

I think one of the best things we can do is examine clichés, and reimagine them. Deconstruct them. Critique them. Because then we’re actually thinking about things we normally just swallow whole, without any consideration’ and that is no way to live, nor any good way to eat. You’ve got to chew your food: and your clichés, as well.

Ready? Here we go.

“All you need is love.” One of my favorite songs, and one of my favorite cliches. Also true — kinda. It’s not true that love is ALL you need; but it is true that love is one of the most important things you can have.

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The first piece of advice I want to give you is this: find love. True love, if you can; genuine and lasting love, at the least. I did, and there is not a day that goes by that I am not shaken to my core by gratitude and happiness because of it. And though I think I am extraordinarily lucky in love, I am entirely sure that all of you can find love, too. Make it a priority: make time for it, time for the looking and then time for the love once you find it. It doesn’t have to be romantic love, if that’s not what you’re after; it can certainly be love for family, for a parent, for a sibling, for a child; it can definitely be love for your best friend, or for a beloved pet — although, as much as I love my pets, I would recommend finding a human person to love. Because human persons talk back to you, and because pet persons die too soon. But it doesn’t have to be a spouse-type person, and it doesn’t have to be only one person. But in all the years I have spent with my wife, nothing has mattered to me as much as going home to her, as having her support and her companionship, as loving her and being loved by her. Don’t settle for something less than that: keep looking until you find it, because a half-measure of happiness will keep you from the full measure, and it isn’t worth it. If you think you’ve found it, and then you turn out to be wrong, don’t stay: divorce that person, leave that person, kill that person and stuff them in a sack.

Okay, don’t do that last one. But definitely leave the relationship and look for something better. Don’t give up on love. Not ever. And if you lose love, unless the memories of that love are enough for you, go out and find more love, find new love. Always. Life is better with love than without: and I truly believe everyone can find someone to love.

Next: “Never give up on your dreams. Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you’ll land among the stars.”

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Okay, once again, there’s truth to this. You should have some kind of ambition in life, and it is better if it is grand; but if it is grand, it will also be, for the vast majority of us, unachievable. Which means you will have two options: give up, or keep working for something you may never accomplish. (Whatever you do, don’t look at the affirmational quotations for this one. As someone who has tried for twenty years to be a published author, and who is still a high school teacher, it both amuses and disturbs me to hear celebrities who caught their lucky break telling people to never give up. Sure, if I had been handed my dreams when I was 17, I’d believe that anyone could accomplish anything they wanted to do — if I was arrogant enough to think that luck came to me because of my talent. I’m not bitter.)

Personally, I would recommend not giving up. Not because of this landing among the stars nonsense; that’s neither true nor meaningful — I mean, if my “moon shot” is to be a published author, what does it mean to land among the stars? I can certainly imagine a second-level success — say, I sell some pleasing number of books which I self-publish, or I get to a pleasing number of followers on this blog, both of which are secondary goals I’m working towards and would be happy to achieve — but how does that fit the metaphor? The moon is infinitesimal compared to the stars, which are infinitely farther away; so what does that mean? Nothing, that’s what. But that’s okay: the point is really that working towards your dreams is a good thing to do regardless of whether or not you achieve the original dream. I really prefer this quote to the cliché, because I think this captures my experience and a lot of other people’s, as well. (Makes sense that it came from an actress whose best-known role came when she was 36.)

“As long as you keep going, you’ll keep getting better. And as you get better, you gain more confidence. That alone is success.” –Tamara Taylor

That’s why I say it is worthwhile to have a grand ambition, even if it is one you will never achieve.

But that takes me, in a roundabout way, to what may be the most important advice I have to give you; though it is also probably the most vague. It is this: there are two kinds of people in this world, and two kinds of experiences.

(There are a bunch of these memes…

 

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But this one’s my favorite:)

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Here are my two kinds: One is the kind of person, and the kind of experience, that limits your future choices, your freedom, your ability to control your life; the other is the kind that expands those choices, that freedom, that ability to make up your own mind and to control your own life. Look always for the second kind of person, the second kind of experience. There will be many choices you will make in life, and many of them will limit your future freedom: and those are the choices you have to be most careful of. You have to make them at the right time, and for the right reason. Choices like what to study in college — after you decide whether or not to go to college. Like what job to take. Where to live. When, and if, you will marry; when, and if, you will have children. These are the defining choices in life, and if you are not yet ready to be defined, don’t make them.

More importantly, don’t EVER let someone else make those choices for you. Don’t let someone pick you for marriage unless you pick them, too. Don’t let someone pick your time to have children, or with whom. Don’t let anyone push you into a career path, and don’t push yourself into one unless you want that career to define you. Until you are ready to make that choice, and lose the freedom to choose again later. (Though here’s a secret, and another cliché I won’t deconstruct: it is never too late to change your mind. Though it does get harder as time passes and you get more settled in your place in the world.)

Let me say one more thing about work: this one?

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Complete bullshit. (You can tell by the background. What the hell kind of job does this image represent? Forest ranger? Have fun chasing poachers and meth cooks all over those mountains, in between rescuing dumbass dayhikers who thought they could just take a jaunt through those woods without equipment because they were in the Brownies. Also have fun getting furloughed when the government shuts down the next time.) Jobs are work. There is always work, or else nobody pays you for it; and the aspects that are work are not going to be fun. Jobs are always difficult, even if you love them, because you can’t possibly love every aspect of them (unless you’re on a whooooooole lotta drugs, and that has its own drawbacks.). I love some things about teaching, I really do — but I HATE the paperwork, and the grades, and indifferent students and overbearing parents, and a few other things as well. I love writing — but I HATE promoting myself. Even if I achieve my dreams of being a professional published author, I will need to write to very strict deadlines, and I will have to worry about my next book being a failure and sending me into the oblivion of Used-To-Be’s. I will have to travel, and speak publically, and participate in conventions and panel discussions and incessant insipid interviews, and I’ll have to be positive ALL THE TIME. I will hate that.

Honestly, I think the best way to view a job is to refuse to let it define you, unless you choose to define yourself that way. Back to the idea of limiting or expanding your freedom: if somebody wants to tell you that you are a teacher, and therefore you can’t be, say, a stripper on the weekends, don’t listen to them; you can be a stripper who teaches during the week. If you don’t care what you do for money because your passion is elsewhere, is in your avocation or your craft or your art or your family, then good: somebody asks what you do, you tell them that you make kayaks in your garage. They don’t need to know — they probably don’t really care — that you deliver pizzas for money; the kayak-building is FAR more interesting and important. So the point is, define yourself by your passion, not by your job; don’t expect your job to BE your passion, though it is certainly nice when they coincide. As much as I hate parts of teaching, I love, so much, that I get to spend all day every day with words, with literature, with reading and writing.

 

There are some other, smaller pieces of advice I would like to give, but they don’t come from clichés and they don’t have their own memes (Advice from a writer and a teacher: stick with a theme only as long as it makes sense; when it’s not working any more, drop it.). One is to take advantage of opportunities when they come up. Saving things for a later day is too often saving them for never; freedom to choose in life hits an early peak and then steadily decreases — until the very end, when you gain the freedom that comes with loss. That is, once you have a house and pets and a family and a career you want to keep, it becomes much harder to travel the world — until you lose all of those things. So if you have the chance to travel, do it.

Another is to pay attention: look around you. Take your time: you actually have quite a lot of it, and it will feel like more if you pay attention. I recommend walking, often, with your eyes and ears open to your surroundings.

Another is to read, and to keep learning. Doesn’t matter what you read, doesn’t matter what you learn; if you read the conspiracy theory websites that show how the Rothschilds are behind the measles outbreak, at least you’ll learn how crazy people are — and if you believe what you read, then the rest of us can learn to avoid talking to you, which is really for the best.

An important habit related to both of those is to always question. Question yourself, question your world, question your assumptions. You have to be careful not to take this to the point of permanent uncertainty and anxiety, but that has more to do with knowing when to trust the answers you get or the answers you make, and to move on to a different question; you can always come back to this question later. (Example: should I have written this blog? Is this too long? Is it a terrible topic, that everyone will find boring? Do I seem too arrogant, giving everyone advice? Well, I’ve written this much, and I don’t have a better idea, so — here it is. If I lose readers because of it, so be it. I’ll write something short and pleasant tomorrow. Also, I’ll hopefully get some feedback on this, which will help me know if it was the right thing to do. Also, please comment and Like content you enjoy, always. One of the best things to happen to me in the last few months was when someone read my book and sent me a comment telling me how much they liked it. I’m still floating from that one.)

Actually, that’s a real piece of advice: speak up. Do it in writing, do it anonymously if you are uncomfortable with direct conversation and confrontation; I certainly do, and I do almost all of my talking through a computer keyboard. I even write letters to my students when I want to chew them out, and you know what? INCREDIBLY effective. Feels much more formal and serious when I tell them in a letter that I’m sick of their bad behavior. Highly recommend it. But: speak. Up. Always. Positive and negative. When you are grateful that someone did something nice, say it — not just “Thank you,” but “I appreciate the way you gave me that/helped out with that/did that nice thing.” Tell your loved ones not only that you love them, but also what you love about them. As often as you think of it, say it. When someone angers you or upsets you, say something. When someone makes you uncomfortable, say something. Don’t suffer in silence: say it. Always. The worst case scenario is that you’ll be a pathetic whiny sniveler, and this way, the rest of us will know that and avoid you: so then everyone wins.

Well, except you.

But that’s what you get for being a whiny sniveler.

Last thing, and it’s not cheerful, but it’s true, and it’s important: people love telling younger people that life gets harder, that high school is nothing compared to college, and that college is nothing compared to the real world. I heard that all through school — “When you get to high school, it’s going to be MUCH harder . . . When you get to college, that’s when school/professors/assignments/grades get REALLY hard . . . When you get out into “the real world,” you’ll see how much better you had it while you were still a student!” — and I’m sure you’ve heard it too.

Well, here’s your last truth from me: it’s all bullshit.

Every stage of life is hard. And every stage of life has rewards that make it bearable. College is harder than high school academically; but the freedom you gain, the agency and control over your own life, makes it worthwhile. Also, you get to meet much better people. That same combined difficulty and reward comes with moving out of school and into the world of jobs and such — whether you make that transition after high school or after college doesn’t matter, it’s always the same — you gain more responsibilities, but also more power. The power gives you more freedom and more agency — you earn your own money and you can spend it how you want, for instance — but the responsibilities reduce that freedom, as well.

It’s always like that. When you are older you will probably have more financial security, but your health will probably be worse, and you’ll be aware of your dwindling years to enjoy your life. When you are young, you have all the time in the world — and too much of it has to be spent struggling.

I’m not saying this to depress you, just to let you know: it doesn’t get worse. In most ways, it gets better, because even though there are troubles to weigh down your joys, there is something else that happens as you go through life: you get stronger. Whatever does not kill you, right? It’s true: you get stronger every single day you are alive. It doesn’t make the troubles you face less — but it means you have an easier time handling them. And as long as you keep your eyes open, and take the time to recognize what you have, your happinesses will seem greater. I am happier now than I have been at any time in my past. Last year I would have said the same thing. Ten years ago I would have said the same thing. (Not nine years ago, though. That was a shitty year. But you can’t avoid those, so don’t worry about them. Try to get through them, that’s the best you can do.)

I’m going to end this with my attempt to make my own cliché — but because I thought of it, I actually find it much too annoying to just say; so I’m going to say it with memes. (Another piece of writer’s and teacher’s advice: know your audience.)

They tell us to never give up — but sometimes, giving up means you can walk away, and go find something better to try. So the best way to look at this is:

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or

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Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

This Morning

This morning I am thinking about work.

Not just my work, which, frankly, I wish I wasn’t thinking about; there is only one day left of regular classes, followed by three days of finals — except I’ve already given all of my finals, so that’s three days of nothing — and then the school year is over. My students stopped thinking about school weeks ago if not earlier; I wish I could follow their example. Ah, well, I’m sure after this coming week I will stop waking up at 4am and thinking about school.

Until the next school year starts, that is.

This morning, though I am also thinking about work in general: why we do it, why we consider it a person’s defining characteristic, and why we hallow it. And why my students have such a love-hate relationship with it.

So why do we work? To some extent, of course, work is necessary for survival; life is a struggle, with too much life vying for not enough resources; there’s not another way that life works on this particular planet, that is just, as they say, how it be. When we were primates in trees, and actual predators and prey, we had to work to get food and to avoid becoming food. When we became  hunter-gatherers, it was the same; and we added work required to build a society, starting with a family or a pack and building up to a tribe, a clan, and then, with the discovery of agriculture and animal husbandry, a village and a town and a country. Now there’s all that added work to prepare the area for habitation, and then to protect it from those who are still working in the predator-prey field. And, basically, we still do that: we work to survive, and we work to maintain and protect what we have.

The question is, what we have, and what the threat to it is, and whether it really needs this much work to keep it.

We work for more than mere survival. We work to get more than the minimum: we work for personal gain. I don’t just want enough food to keep from starving, I want enough food to be satisfied, to be fat and happy; and I want the right kinds of food. Not just all the squirrels I can catch: I want donuts. And Cheez-Its. And good coffee. And also, I don’t want to eat squirrels. But now  we enter into the realm of abundance: because frankly, if there are limited resources and we are competing for them, and there are people working to survive while I am working merely for Cheez-Its and good coffee, then the survival workers are likely to win, because they want it more and they will work harder. Of course, there are people working to survive in this world while I work for Cheez-Its (And I feel like an absolute heel saying that, but it’s true, so thank you for reading the work of a heel), but we have localized abundance, and localized limited resources; and we have lots of people working hard to make sure that the people with limited resources can’t take my Cheez-Its.

So now we have working for survival, and working for personal gain and abundance. (We also have people working to protect my abundance, but they generally do that work for the same reason I do mine: they just have a different job. Inasmuch as they work to promote and preserve a culture, I’ll get to them in a sec.) I’m struggling to find a way that my working for Cheez-Its is positive, in the face of the fact that people are starving and working for food. I mean, I can’t fix the famine in Yemen, not even if I give up Cheez-Its (I’m not trying to be flip here, but if I changed to something less shallow than Cheez-Its as my example, it wouldn’t change the fact that I am working for abundance while Yemenis starve to death.); but in the grand scheme of things, there can’t be a moral good in working for abundance in a world with people who lack what they need to survive.

But there are still other reasons why we work. Take the one I just left alone: working to protect and promote a culture. People who do that often work without a tangible reward, which means they aren’t working for survival nor for personal gain. Why do they do it, then?

Take the attempts to reshape the national culture. Fundamentalist Christians are trying to re-brand America as a Christian nation. But we are not a Christian nation, not explicitly nor implicitly, not historically nor ideally; so this means, essentially, that Christians are trying to take the nation we have and turn it into their nation. Why? What would they gain from it?  Clearly not survival and not abundance; there is no money in protesting abortion. (There’s plenty in being a politician or a PAC that promotes abortion restrictions, but I’m not talking about them; I’m talking about the people who march with signs, and yell at people outside Planned Parenthood, and write opinion letters and online arguments about abortion and gay marriage.) Do they work to gain a place in Heaven? No, that’s guaranteed to them based on their own good life and good faith. The salvation of other American souls? That also is based on Americans accepting the Christian faith, and unless you think banning abortion and gay marriage will make people see the light of God in church every Sunday, then the attempts to achieve those political goals doesn’t make sense for their faith.

“Because it’s the right thing to do” seems to be the answer that makes the most sense (Unless we accept the notion that socially conservative movements are aimed at the eventual goal of subjugation of the masses for the elevation of conservative Christians. Then it’s more taking of something that isn’t theirs: power. And there’s a different idea of why we work.). Not that I think banning abortion and gay marriage are the right thing to do, but lots and lots of religious people, particularly devout Christians, do think so, and they’re the ones putting in the work to take these institutions (Is that the word for pregnant women in the aggregate? Marriage is an institution; is pregnancy? Motherhood? Womanhood?) under their control. So here’s another reason why we do work: not for survival, and not for personal gain: for morality. And maybe for control, for power.

Working for power doesn’t make sense. Power is, essentially, the ability to gain something without having to work for it. If I have power over my slaves, say, then I can order them to make me a cup of coffee, and I get the coffee without having to make it myself; presumably I also force my slaves to do work that will bring in enough money to buy the coffee. I’m buying myself a life of leisure, a work-free existence. So if I have to work to gain that power, so that I can use the power to stop working, then it’s a wash. The only thing that makes it make any sense is if I can gain power disproportionate to the work I put in, so I work less hard to keep my slaves subjugated than my slaves work to keep me in coffee and Cheez-its. It would make sense if I put in work at the outset in order to stop working after I gain the power I seek; but that requires a kind of power that remains even when I stop working to maintain it, and there aren’t a lot of powers like that. Most power leaves as soon as you stop working to keep it.

So then the people who work for power aren’t looking only for power: they want to wield that power to some other purpose. It makes  sense if this comes back to morality. People who work to gain power over others, so they can force those others to act the way the powerful one wants them to act, because the powerful one thinks that’s the right thing to do: okay. That’s just working for morality at one remove. You could also work for power in order to use that power to gain greater abundance and personal wealth; though at some point the abundance becomes more than you could ever need — Bill Gates, the Waltons, especially Warren Buffett (who is 88 years old), will never be able to spend all of their money. That becomes a circle: work for power, to gain wealth, to gain more power, to — ? Presumably work for moral goals, as the Koch brothers have, as Sheldon Adelson and George Soros do.

Have I missed anything? Is there any other reason we work? Oh, wait, of course: we work for the benefit of other people. I work so I can give my wife food, so I can buy chewtoys for my dogs, so I can afford a house with a fenced yard for my tortoise to live in. (I give my wife more than food, and I do also give food to my pets. Just so we’re clear.) On some level I do these things for selfish reasons, for survival or my own luxury, because I like when my wife takes care of me and when my dogs treat me like a wonderful person — often immediately after I feed them; but I also do work for other people who do not benefit me directly. (I know that many people who fight to end abortion feel they are doing the same thing. Allow me to disagree. I do not think that anyone arguing against gay marriage is sincerely doing that for the sake of other people: it is a moral conviction they hold, and nothing more.)

And here’s where we come to my students. I work hard for them. Not for my survival; believe me when I say I could do a tenth of the work that I currently do and keep my current position, and therefore keep my salary; actually, if I arranged it well, and focused my minimal efforts on prepping my students for tests, I could potentially make more than I do now, because my school has merit pay for test scores, which I consistently ignore in favor of working hard to teach my students. I don’t work hard for personal gain: I don’t get anything tangible from students except the occasional gift of coffee or baked goods. I got a $25 gift card for Starbucks yesterday, but I make $25 an hour or so, and I’ve spend far more than an hour on the student who gave me the gift. (Please know, especially if it’s you who gave me the card reading this, that your gift was much appreciated: far more than my salary.) It’s the same problem as working for power: if I work so I can get gifts that save me work, it’s a wash. In my case, considering the amount of work and the value of my gifts, it’s worse than a wash, it’s a waste.

To some extent I work hard as a teacher for a moral purpose: I believe that education is valuable, and that literature and reading and writing are both valuable and wonderful, and I want to promote those ideas; my efforts contribute to that, I think. But not enough: because for all of my effort and all of my passion, my students do not generally become readers. Maybe they gain some respect for literature and for reading and writing, but they aren’t converted to my beliefs. The other reason I work hard is for their benefit: my students often don’t read well, and rarely write well; I think their lives — not my life, and not necessarily the country or the world as a whole — would be better if they could read and write more clearly, more purposefully, more powerfully. So I try to help them. For their sakes.

The biggest hurdle I face in that effort is, naturally, my students themselves (Also the educational establishment, which would really prefer it if I taught to the test and the skills and standards they have determined to be more important than literature; but that’s their moral purpose for work, not mine, and I haven’t been converted to their views. So, no.). Because the only way my students improve is if they work.

And why would my students want to work?

Not for survival; I hate to think that any of them would be denied food or water or shelter because they didn’t do well in school. I’m sure it happens sometimes, but I would turn that parent in for abuse and neglect, not praise them for motivating their child to learn. Not for luxury or personal gain, not exactly; some of them get money or presents with good grades, but that’s rare at the high school level, and only has influence around grade time: when it’s September and they feel like sleeping in, the awareness that they’ll get paid for every A come January does not get them out of bed to study for that test. The same for the overarching motivation we try to use on them in this country: work hard in school, then go to college (Where you’ll work harder, and buy yourself a mountain of debt which means you’ll have to work EVEN HARDER when you’re out of school) so that you can get a high-paying job. THEN you can work for abundance and personal gain.

You know what? That’s too much work, for not enough reward. The reward is much too distant, and too fraught; because  we all have stories about people who work hard and are miserable, and we share those stories with students. Students see their parents working too hard to earn money, and they are capable of recognizing that their parents may love the work they do, but that doesn’t make it worth the hard effort they put into it. I myself am not a good example to become a teacher: they all know how hard I work for them, and how little reward I get for it. Why would they work hard now, to work harder in college, to work harder as a teacher?

Even my students aren’t that dumb.

Maybe we should rethink this system.

This Morning

This morning I am thinking about paying attention.

I had a student tell me the other day that he thinks he has ADHD. He based this self-diagnosis on the fact that those with ADHD have great difficulty in setting deadlines for themselves, that they get distracted too easily and too severely, and they also suffer anxiety when forced to do a task they find difficult or unpleasant. They have trouble focusing, in other words, and this is no surprise.

Butt I was surprised when this young man told me he thought he had ADHD; because I’ve taught him for four years, and I’ve taught and known a number of people with ADHD over the years — and no. No, he does not have ADHD. He’s just a lazy teenager with bad priorities.

I say that with no judgment: I was a lazy teenager with bad priorities, and I was far worse about it than this young man — who is graduating with a high GPA, who has been accepted to multiple colleges, and who has won scholarships based on his academic achievements. The problem with his focus and his ability to accomplish tasks in a timely manner is actually that he’s so smart that he can do an excellent job on his work with very little effort or time; he can blow through an essay in a couple of hours and write something better than what any of his peers can do. He’s known this, certainly for all of high school, probably for all of his life, and so he lets himself do exactly that: he puts off homework and assignments until it reaches the point where he has just enough time to do them, and then he does them.

Then, of course, the issue grew complicated. First it became a point of pride, as it always does, because everything in our culture is competitive. Someone in the class says “Did you do the project?” And someone who works very hard in school responds, “Yeah, I spent all weekend on it. Almost killed me.” And then the smart one says, “Huh. I threw something together at the last minute. Took me about an hour.” Then the projects come back with grades, and the smart one has the same grade as the hard worker, or even a better one, and the hard worker expresses some sort of envy. “Man, I wish I could do that. You’re so lucky.” So our smart one does this as often as possible, in order to win that praise, even if it’s only from himself, looking down at his test grade and thinking, “I didn’t even study for that. Damn, I’m smart.”

The eventual result is that this smart young man can’t bring himself to put real work into anything, because he likes the accolades he gets when he does minimal work that still turns out well; and he loves the freedom that he gains by working this way, by taking perhaps one-fifth as much time to complete his work, which leaves him four-fifths of his time to play video games or watch YouTube. And life is grand: until, of course, the inevitable happens, and the work gets difficult enough that he can’t finish it in one-fifth the time. Things don’t go as well then, and his grades start to slide, and the accolades dry up — and then he starts looking for excuses. Then he develops ADHD. (The really funny part of this, by the way, is the H, the Hyperactivity: this dude can barely bring himself to get out of bed in the morning, and he slouches and trudges his way through his entire school day. I’ve never seen a less hyperactive student.)

It can certainly come about in other ways: a student who is not as bright, not as capable, but who  is charming and well-liked, and so gets out of assignments because the teacher likes them, or who gets other people to do work for them; they too never develop the ability to do hard work for an extended period of time — and they too decide that they have ADHD. Or simply someone who was never pushed to complete tasks, who is in an environment that is not very concerned with school, and is therefore allowed to spend study time playing instead; they never learn to focus and pay attention, and eventually, lo and behold, ADHD.

If you genuinely have ADHD, or you have seen someone with ADHD, you know it. It’s called a disorder, which I don’t agree with, because the only problem with it is it doesn’t conform to the type of behavior we generally prefer in our children and in our students (Which still adheres to the old Puritan ideal of “seen but not heard”); but when people have it, it is unmistakable. The fact that people are using this very genuine condition as an excuse for just not wanting to work very hard is, frankly, disgusting. I don’t really have a suggestion or advice here, other than — well, shut up and do your work, you lazy punks.

This Morning

This morning I do not have time to think. Sorry: I have seniors who are graduating in two days, and I need to grade their work. I spent part of last night arguing when I should have been grading, and so this morning, I need to spend time grading which I would rather spend writing.

This is a good substitute, though: since I started my gun posts with a discussion of what needs to be done to fix school shootings — but I never got to a practical answer — here is a reasonable and practical answer that actually has very little to do with guns, from a teacher in Colorado. Please do read it.

I’ll try to write again tomorrow.

I am a TEACHER in COLORADO and Here is Why Guns are NOT the Problem or the Solution.

This Morning

This morning I’m thinking about the Constitution. About the Second Amendment.

“A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.”

I have thought about this particular sentence quite a lot over the years. I’ve shifted my position on this several times, generally in the same direction; not because the side I’ve shifted towards is entirely right (Though it is the right-wing position, the conservative position, that doesn’t make it the right-minded position), but because I came into this debate with a pretty extreme view.

See, I was raised to hate firearms. Violence of all types, certainly, but firearms in particular. My mother, a nurse and a pacifist and the kindest person I have ever known, never even let me have a BB gun, no matter how many times I watched “A Christmas Story.” There was one occasion when I was about 8 or so when our family went over to visit friends for dinner; my mom and dad liked this couple quite a lot: he was a computer guy who worked with my dad, and she was a ceramic artist. They all got along great — until Ben, the husband, showed my brother Marvin and I his pistol. I have a clear recollection of the gun — a revolver — being entirely unloaded, the cylinder open with no shells in it; I remember him letting us hold it. And I remember my mother coming in the room and finding us there holding a gun.

We never saw them again. Not only didn’t go over to their house, but we never saw the Kirchners again. I think my mom saw Mrs. Kirchner at some point, because we had a number of mugs that she made; but we never saw Ben after that.

So I’ve never been in a fight, and I’ve never gone hunting, and I’ve never killed an animal larger than a mouse, and I’ve never fired nor even held a gun past that one time when I was eight. I remember being in an online debate when I started taking this topic on, and my opponent accused me (as online debaters — read “assholes,” including myself when I debated online — are wont to do) of being a hoplophobe, someone who is irrationally afraid of firearms (Please note that this is just a politically charged insult recently coined, like “snowflake” or “soyboy” or that kind of bullshit.). And my response, which stunned the asshole who threw the word at me, was, “Yes. Yes, I am.” I did add the clarifications that I was afraid of people wielding firearms, not of the weapons themselves, and that this fear was not in fact irrational.

The response was basically that I should get a gun and learn to defend myself like a man.

This is a bullshit argument.

But it’s not actually the argument behind the Second Amendment.

Let’s be clear: the Second Amendment has been misinterpreted (in my opinion) by the courts, and even more by the general populace. It does not define the right to self-defense: there is no need to define and protect the natural right to self-defense, because self-defense is never a crime. But I don’t believe there is a guarantee in the Second Amendment that an individual has a right to, needs to, or even should, have a gun for self-defense.

The Second Amendment is also not in any way a defense of hunting or target shooting or collecting firearms to display in your home. None of those are rights. They’re amusements, hobbies; you have no right to a hobby. “But Dusty, what about people who hunt for food?” Well actually, you don’t have a right to food, either. People should have food, and it makes sense for us as a country to ensure that people have food and the ability to get food; but we do it because it makes sense, not because it’s a right. If it stops being sensible to provide food — let’s say we all voluntarily go into the Matrix, and survive on pink goo pumped directly into our gastrointestinal systems — then the provision of food will stop, without any violation of rights.

Let me explain a bit before I go too far into the weeds. The Second Amendment states that the people — not a person — have the right to keep and bear arms, in order to defend the security of a free State. The implication is that the main threats to a free State are external: I think that’s the “security” line. If it was primarily about the defense of a free people from the state, then it would say something more like “to ensure the integrity and continuation of a free State.” But I don’t mean to be one of those people who parse every word of the law in order to determine what the point is: I don’t actually idolize the Founding Fathers, and don’t think that their intentions should be the deciding consideration when trying to interpret the Constitution. I think we should look at what the document is really supposed to do, not necessarily what the men who wrote it wanted it to do.

The Constitution is intended to create and preserve a nation based on the rule of law, and not the whims of men. Laws need to be interpreted and executed by people, so our opinions have some importance; but the defining, essential purpose of the Constitution and the Founding Fathers was to escape and prevent the tyranny of powerful men.

You know how you escape the tyranny of powerful men? You spread power out as much as humanly possible. You create separate but equal branches of government, with checks and balances. You ensure that, as much as possible, the people who run that government are beholden to the masses, through the power of the ballot. (It’s probably a good idea to ensure that the people who are in charge of the actual laws are not quite so beholden to the people, but rather to the law itself — but that’s a different topic.) And because physical force is a source of power, you spread out the physical force as widely as possible: you don’t allow it to concentrate in the hand of a few, or even, if you can manage it, in the hands of many: you put it in the hands of all. That’s what the Second Amendment does, and what it does is right to do: the wider the dispersal of power, the less likely power is to be abused.

I do think the Second Amendment is intended partly to ensure that the people stay free and are able to defend that freedom against a rising tyranny in their own government. But it’s not that specific: it’s intended to create resistance to any gathering of power. The Ku Klux Klan have less power when the Black Panthers have rifles: it’s really as simple as that.

That means that we need to have the right to own firearms, as firearms are the most powerful individual force-multiplier we people can own. Tanks would be better, and an entire air force or navy owned by each individual WAY better; but that’s not feasible.  Anyone can own a gun, and a person with a gun is more deadly than one without. That’s why the Amendment defends the right to keep and bear arms. That does also imply that we should have the right to defend ourselves from personal harm using firearms. It makes sense: the point of maintaining a free State is so we free individuals can have a place to live; therefore the purpose of defending a free state also encompasses defending a free individual. Also, not to get too silly, but you can’t defend the state if you get killed by an intruder in your home.

But here’s the thing: there’s nothing in the Amendment, neither the wording nor the logic, that implies that we should not require background checks on every single purchase of a firearm. And a national gun registry of every owned or manufactured firearm. And red flag laws that allow the removal of firearms from dangerous individuals. And mandatory firearms training and testing, just like we have for motor vehicles. And limits on types of firearms (To some extent — there should be a limit on the limits so that the limits do not become a de facto ban), and on magazine capacity, and on everything else that we see fit to regulate. See, the goal here is to ensure that power is spread out: not that power has to be granted and defended for every halfwit who can pull a damn trigger. Not that the power has to allow one sovereign citizen to take on the military, or even the police, and win. The arguments against regulation are all predicated on the (rather paranoid) idea that the main purpose of the Amendment is to limit the ability of the federal government to control people, and that’s just not the case. Anyone who is a threat to us needs to be controlled, primarily by the limiting of power in the hands of those who are a threat. Note that: if we fear the rising power of the Federal government, then clearly the answer given by the Constitution is to limit that power, not to rise up against it. The worst case scenario is that the people will need to overthrow their own government, but the Amendment isn’t the plan for that; the Amendment is part of the plan for preventing that.

Our ability to own firearms is one thing that helps keep the government from the most simple and brutal sort of tyranny (And it really does do that, and I think I’ll have to talk about that at greater length on another day; the topic is too complex for a single post); but to keep us from turning our power on each other (And to keep the citizens from turning their power on the government for corrupt reasons, too; let’s not forget that. Let’s not imagine that most revolutions are idealistic and freedom-loving.), well — that’s why it says “Well-regulated.” Right there in the front of the Amendment. Even before the “keep and bear arms” part.

 

I think this will have to be continued.