Acknowledging the Struggle, Part I

As readers know, I have been fermenting for quite some time, and quite unexpectedly, in a little coffee shop in downtown Missoula, I had a bit of a revelation.  I'm sure the caffeine (of which I'm not supposed to partake), the yummy bearclaw, and the majestic snow-capped mountains that envelope the small city of Missoula, provided me with an environment where I was able to subconsciously process what has been going on. 

I was reading the inaugural issue of a new periodical, Taproot and I found myself having this physical reaction to literally burrow into the arms of all the writers and photographers.  Here is a community of people who "get it". 

For years my darling husband and I have been attempting to live more simply and sustainably.  "Sustainable" has different meanings for different people, and people are drawn towards sustainability for many different reasons--economic, environmental, social justice, spiritual--to name a few.  For me, the whole concept of sustainability encompasses all of these reasons.  I think Shannon Hayes, author of Radical Homemakers, touches a large part of what I have been feeling in her essay, "Cultivating the Rich Soil of Our Lives":

We live in bizarre times, victims of a post-industrial era that, for the sake of efficiency, has segmented our culture into factions--some produce the food, some produce the education, some produce goods and services.  This segmentation fails to acknowledge our need to be human, to engage in daily work that feeds our minds and our bodies and reestablishes our oneness with the earth.  Perhaps more carrots can be produced, more books can be written, more art can be created, more kids can be schooled, more numbers can be crunched and more albums can be produced if one person plants carrots, and someone else writes the books, and someone else paints pictures, and someone else teaches our kids, and someone else crunches the numbers and someone else plays the music and someone else cooks the carrots.  But none of us is experiencing what it means to be fully human, where our unique minds and bodies work in harmony with our spirits and nature to create and provide for our wellbeing.  I believe this segmentation of our lives becomes a source of despair. 

And despair it is.  As I mentioned in earlier postings, our little village is setting up its own Farmers' Market.  The concept is a good one, and yet I am finding that something as simple and as vital as providing food for our neighbors gets bogged down in the economics of the situation.  In order to be vendors, we need to purchase rider on our homeowner's insurance.  In order to sell certain types of food, we need to become certified to use a commercial kitchen.  All of this requires cold, hard cash. All of it requires that we go through layers upon layers of red tape. I'm not lazy.  I like hard, physical work.  I fell content and valued and whole when I plant or harvest or care for livestock.  But I just want to give you the darn head of lettuce, and in return you can give me a bar of soap.  Or give me cash for the lamb, and then I will invest that cash into wood for heating next year. Why does something so simple always have to become so complicated?  The very process of working through the bureaucracy chips away at the primal and spiritual connection that we should have with our environment.  It certainly drains the life-giving force from me as I ponder in these moments of despair if the farming and the living off the land is really worth it.   Is it truly possible for us to all slow down, to reevaluate what is really important in our lives, and still be able to thrive in our world today?

The State of Our Society

Ideas have been swirling around in my head for months now about the state of our materialistic culture.  I fear I could write a book, but my thoughts are nowhere near coherent enough at this point.  The triggers for the following post are, in no particular order:

1.  The incredibly rude behavior brought on by cell phone users in public spaces
2.  The Chilean miner rescue
3.  The inability for today's students to actually think critically about a question and problem solve
4.  The amount of money in big business that looks at profit margins instead of the greater good

I will attempt to connect this all, although I've added a little something to the hot cider I'm drinking, and it is a Tuesday night after all.

I have become disenchanted with education (you know that already if you are a follower of the blog).  I am most severely disenchanted with the way in which our students are conditioned to learn.  Case in point:  I'm having my kids conduct a research project that requires them to develop hypotheses about a certain procedure.  There is really no right answer, because the procedures were done in the past, in some cases, thousands of years ago.  But through lab activities, the kids have learned concepts which provide them with the background knowledge to actually construct a viable hypothesis.  They have struggled with this.  I am sure this age group will be known as the 'Google' generation, because they think they can find any answer by just googling it.  When was the wheel invented?  I'll google it.  How is an arch constructed?  I'll google it.  They are so used to instant answers and instant gratification that they no longer have the attack skills necessary to problem solve.  Furthermore, they also no longer have the patience to struggle through the problem.  Which means, sadly, that they know no longer feel the joy and sense of accomplishment when they finally figure it out.  The passion of learning for the sake of enlightenment seems gone. 

Part of this, perhaps, is just the older generation looking at the younger generation and reminiscing for the "good old days".  But I am convinced there has been a fundamental shift in the way kids learn, and how they expect to learn.   And I think this new way is not necessarily helpful for society at large.

The most detrimental result of this new way of thinking is the lack of true social growth in individuals.  Instead of debating a problem with group members, kids go straight to the computer.  They don't learn how to argue effectively, to respect each other's opinions or to work together as a team.  In fact, with the advent of the cell phone and texting, kids don't even need to physically see each other anymore.  I believe there have been statistics published that a lower percentage of teenagers are actually getting their licences, because there is no need to physically hang out anymore.  As a side note, the amount of cyberbullying that occurs now is disheartening.  Kids don't have to be mean to each other face to face, and thus it's easier to be mean and say hurtful things.  Again, this demonstrates the lack of opportunity to learn and practice much needed social interaction.  Direct eye contact, civility, reading body language, etc.   Plus, if they could, kids would have the cell phone would be out 24/7.  Perhaps it is becoming socially acceptable to text while having a conversation with a real live person out at a restaurant.  Perhaps it is becoming acceptable to always be available to talk by phone; if it rings, you answer it.  Perhaps it is becoming acceptable to let the world know what you are doing every second of every day (Yes, I am a FB user, and I do post my status occasionally).   Where is the line?  Whatever happened to privacy? Whatever happened to downtime? What ever happened to real friends?  

I worry about all of this because from an evolution point of view our bodies and minds are not designed to always be on.  New York may be the city that never sleeps, but our bodies and our brains do need to sleep.  We are not capable of the constant stimulation (or the instant gratification). Something has to give, although I'm not sure what it is.

And yet, as a society, we seem to go on, driven by our need to get more NOW, do more NOW.  Parents are working two or three jobs to maintain the lifestyle they choose (or feel the need) to create for themselves.  There is this outside pressure that chants "More, More, More" incessantly.  Again, it is the children who suffer.  Many kids have very little meaningful contact with parents, but instead are left at home staring at some sort of screen.  We don't know what the long-term effects of this behavior are.  The hand-eye coordination, I'm sure, is much better in this set of kids, but what about their attention spans? Or, their ability to behave appropriately in social circles.  Or the opportunity to learn from older generations (vertical learning) as opposed from their peers (horizontal learning).

The other group that suffers are the millions of workers who are producing the goods that we demand.  I admit, I was glued to my computer screen watching the streaming video of the Chilean miner rescue.  There are no words to describe the strength and perseverance of the miners or all of those individuals and groups who assisted in rescuing them.  It was helpful to see good news (even if it was sensationalized) when we are usually constantly bombarded with stories of violence, sadness, death.  Unfortunately, only a few days later, we got news of a mine collapse in China.   Around the same time, my brother shared the beginning of one recent Simpson's episodes where they portray the darker side of large-scale commodity production (come to think of it, is there a lighter side?).   I am convinced that if we reverted back to local economies the demand for such large mining operations (and other forms of production) where safety and human welfare is sacrificed for money would diminish. 

But of course, my students remind me (after we read "The Sacred Rac" in my class) that at this point it is highly improbably that we could return to local economies.  Our very infrastructure is set up to require transportation to a commercial center, to purchase food that was produced thousands of miles away, to require transportation to go to school, to use energy that was harvested on the other side of the world.   How do we go back?  Never mind that big corporations are going to do their best to keep us wanting more.  After all, it's all about the bottom dollar.   And that, my friends, is the sad conclusion.   We have sacrificed our sense of self, our sense of social responsibility to our fellow human being and to our environment, our sense of creative thought.  All in the name of what?  Progress? Money?  We need to slow down, think about the consequences of our actions and consider this question: Just because we can, does it mean we should?

Addendum:  After drafting this post, my darling husband mentioned Bill McKibben's work to me, which I had heard about, but, unfortunately, I have not read much of.  I look forward to reading his book, Deep Economy: the Wealth of Communities and the Durable Future.