http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/n/a/2007/10/19/entertainment/e190351D69.DTL
I just read this article in the SF Chronicle. At a lecture/reading, JK Rowling outed Albus Dumbledore. While I have yet to read the final book and, therefore, don't know about the character she is talking about, I am very excited to see that this great literary character is all the more real and complex. Really, I am glad because this is another way that acceptance and respect will become part of the cultural discourse.
While there is still a long way to go in the fight to bring the rights of gays, lesbians, and transgendered people to where they should be---the same level as us straight folks---I think the public view of homosexuality is improving. I have noticed that since pop culture has embraced gay characters (Northern Exposure, Ellen, Will and Grace, Ugly Betty, etc), there has been a marked shift in norms. This is especially apparent at the high school, where there are quite a few openly gay kids. When I went to the high school, it was an unwelcoming place for gay students. While "gay" is still used as a derogatory statement, as in, "That movie was so gay!" meaning "That movie was so bad," kids are much more accepting and willing to befriend other kids of other sexual orientations.
This move by Rowling will help that much more. Yet another generation will see a strong, good, loving gay character with whom they can relate, as opposed to the over-the-top stereotypes of the past. Of course, this will give the radical Christian right one more reason to not like the book, as the article states, but, really, who cares? They are becoming increasing irrelevant with every passing day. They can't stop change. They aren't magic, after all...
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
I shouldn't be writing now
I am swamped! I am going crazy! My students have let me down! I am not happy! I am far too busy to write...
But here I am. For some reason, I decided that right now I needed to return to blogging, that nothing mattered more to me than writing. I don't know why. I don't even have anything to say. Perhaps I just needed a little pontification to clear my mind...
At the English department meeting today, one of my colleagues related a story of a workshop on adapting lessons to fit the needs of English language learners at which the presenter told the group that language isn't necessary for thought. On hearing this, Mark left the meeting. (This act of defiance could have put him into some hot water, but he felt he had to leave in the face of such idiocy.) Her statement has made me wonder.
Language is so ingrained into us that I cannot conceive of the world with out. Literally. Of course, it is possible to see mental pictures, but I defy most people to shift complete away from the mental electricity of language. It is what we run on; our synapses firing would be little more than a jump start without the words to run the vehicle. Or would our lives be that dim without language?
As an English teacher, I have been conditioned to think that words our necessary to life. Perhaps they are. Perhaps not. They are for me. I am a word-lover. Learning new words thrills me. I like word games. I am especially crazy about etymology, which must drive my students crazy because I kind of force it down their throats. I often catch myself thinking deeply, perhaps a little too deeply, about a certain phrase or word, dwelling on them. Beyond all of my fancy for words is the necessity of words. They are our thoughts. As often as I can, I belabor a point Margaret Atwood made: writing is telepathy. In other words, the only way to get the contents of my mind to that of my audience is through these crazy sounds (or, in the case of writing, this arbitrary squiggles that stand for sounds), and, indeed, that is really how I access my information when it is inside of my head.
But I have begun to wonder about all of this. Is it true?
A few years ago (before I went to Japan?), I watched a program about a woman who works with cattle. She is a scientist who designs more humane ways to herd and slaughter animals. While I may take issue with the slaughter, I applaud her efforts to make them more humane. Anyway, her particular talent for this pursuit comes from the fact that as an autistic person, she claims to see in pictures. Lately, I stumbled upon her work again in the Ukiahi library. Her name is Dr. Temple Grandin. She says that her memories, her mind are not made up of words, but rather pictures that constantly run (and can be rerun) like a movie. This allows her to "replay" her thoughts and reexamine them from the cow's point of view. I am sure I am grossly understating this seemingly fantastic ability, but it is very intriguing to me.
I have no way of knowing if it is true. How could we? No one can go into another's mind, and precisely because of this, I can't even conceive of what Dr. Grandin means. My world is so bound and tied with words that thinking only (or mostly) in pictures is unfathomable to me. Surely we all have visual memory, but to have it dominate would represent a bold difference in my life. I am going to have to check out Dr. Grandin's book Thinking in Pictures.
This all brings me to wonder what my job is really about. Indeed, most humans are language-based thinkers, so my charge is to teach the young people of my community how best to use this vital tool. However, I wonder how much is necessary? How much is too much? Not that I want to change it, but could we change this language-heavy paradigm which very literally dominates our thinking, or is Dr. Grandin a reminder of some former epoch in human life when words were a smaller part of the thinking process? Clearly, if language is more socially created, as this question implies, it won out, probably, I would wager, due to its efficiency, but if language is/was social, could we go back (or, perhaps, more appropriately, switch our focus)? And if we could, would there be benefits from our changed perspective? Language, though, has components hardwired into the human psyche (as Chomsky & others), but, continuing the metaphor, when did that "upgrade" occur?
To get to the main question: why teach language if there are other thought processes out there that may (or may not) have important benefits. Do word lovers like me just push our language-centered world on others?
http://www.templegrandin.com/
But here I am. For some reason, I decided that right now I needed to return to blogging, that nothing mattered more to me than writing. I don't know why. I don't even have anything to say. Perhaps I just needed a little pontification to clear my mind...
At the English department meeting today, one of my colleagues related a story of a workshop on adapting lessons to fit the needs of English language learners at which the presenter told the group that language isn't necessary for thought. On hearing this, Mark left the meeting. (This act of defiance could have put him into some hot water, but he felt he had to leave in the face of such idiocy.) Her statement has made me wonder.
Language is so ingrained into us that I cannot conceive of the world with out. Literally. Of course, it is possible to see mental pictures, but I defy most people to shift complete away from the mental electricity of language. It is what we run on; our synapses firing would be little more than a jump start without the words to run the vehicle. Or would our lives be that dim without language?
As an English teacher, I have been conditioned to think that words our necessary to life. Perhaps they are. Perhaps not. They are for me. I am a word-lover. Learning new words thrills me. I like word games. I am especially crazy about etymology, which must drive my students crazy because I kind of force it down their throats. I often catch myself thinking deeply, perhaps a little too deeply, about a certain phrase or word, dwelling on them. Beyond all of my fancy for words is the necessity of words. They are our thoughts. As often as I can, I belabor a point Margaret Atwood made: writing is telepathy. In other words, the only way to get the contents of my mind to that of my audience is through these crazy sounds (or, in the case of writing, this arbitrary squiggles that stand for sounds), and, indeed, that is really how I access my information when it is inside of my head.
But I have begun to wonder about all of this. Is it true?
A few years ago (before I went to Japan?), I watched a program about a woman who works with cattle. She is a scientist who designs more humane ways to herd and slaughter animals. While I may take issue with the slaughter, I applaud her efforts to make them more humane. Anyway, her particular talent for this pursuit comes from the fact that as an autistic person, she claims to see in pictures. Lately, I stumbled upon her work again in the Ukiahi library. Her name is Dr. Temple Grandin. She says that her memories, her mind are not made up of words, but rather pictures that constantly run (and can be rerun) like a movie. This allows her to "replay" her thoughts and reexamine them from the cow's point of view. I am sure I am grossly understating this seemingly fantastic ability, but it is very intriguing to me.
I have no way of knowing if it is true. How could we? No one can go into another's mind, and precisely because of this, I can't even conceive of what Dr. Grandin means. My world is so bound and tied with words that thinking only (or mostly) in pictures is unfathomable to me. Surely we all have visual memory, but to have it dominate would represent a bold difference in my life. I am going to have to check out Dr. Grandin's book Thinking in Pictures.
This all brings me to wonder what my job is really about. Indeed, most humans are language-based thinkers, so my charge is to teach the young people of my community how best to use this vital tool. However, I wonder how much is necessary? How much is too much? Not that I want to change it, but could we change this language-heavy paradigm which very literally dominates our thinking, or is Dr. Grandin a reminder of some former epoch in human life when words were a smaller part of the thinking process? Clearly, if language is more socially created, as this question implies, it won out, probably, I would wager, due to its efficiency, but if language is/was social, could we go back (or, perhaps, more appropriately, switch our focus)? And if we could, would there be benefits from our changed perspective? Language, though, has components hardwired into the human psyche (as Chomsky & others), but, continuing the metaphor, when did that "upgrade" occur?
To get to the main question: why teach language if there are other thought processes out there that may (or may not) have important benefits. Do word lovers like me just push our language-centered world on others?
http://www.templegrandin.com/
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