It doesn't make sense to say that you don't like math. Math is simply a tool, an alphabet—if not a language*—which we use to convey our theories on the nature of the physical world in the most precise way we can. It isn't actually a thing that bears liking or disliking, except that one may like the skilful manipulation of the tool itself, or the beauty of the resulting theorems. One normally would not do the opposite, that is, dislike handling the tool badly, because if one is bad at wielding a tool one either learns quickly how to wield it well, or goes on to something one finds easier to do. Myself, I blame school for this irrational hatred of mathematics. It is one of those few environments where one may be forced to consistently do a job one is bad at, and therefore, one of the few places that one can learn to hate a means of communication.
Showing posts with label taking children seriously. Show all posts
Showing posts with label taking children seriously. Show all posts
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Monday, April 6, 2009
Dear Diary...
I stumbled across this on the internet just now.
That was written on September 30th, 2001. There's an interesting juxtaposition to note here, of the most primary kind when it comes to TCS: "I hate school. It's a form of slavery. I don't understand why I need to do it, but, I'll trust in authority for now and assume I'm doing the right thing and that it will all become clear to me later." "I'm going to be a mom."
Then, five days later on October 4th:
She couldn't take the courses she wanted to take in college. How much do we all bet that when she does become a mom, she will definitely send her children to school?
Also, a note on second-handing:
She admires Angelo because he made something of himself. She sees that her other friends and herself are all failing in some way or another, and it's largely school related. Then she says, in essence, that she doesn't want to make anything of herself; or rather, that she doesn't see "making something of yourself" as an action that you do (and therefore, without realizing, renders the act of admiring Angelo for succeeding at it senseless). Instead she sees it as something that only happens if your parents have already made something of themselves and just confer the benefits on her. "But I was never given a chance!" Well, rather; isn't the point of making something of yourself that you, well, make it yourself? In other words, her whole appraisal of her situation is littered with contradictions and un-thought-out (and false) assumptions.
I hate school. I really think that it's a form of slavery. The teachers are making me write essays, stories, assignments... when in the hell am I going to need to know how to write a formal descriptive essay if I'm just going to be a mom??? It makes no god-damned sense... but here I am, needing to do it. *sigh* I just hope they're right and that school is really important for the rest of my life.
That was written on September 30th, 2001. There's an interesting juxtaposition to note here, of the most primary kind when it comes to TCS: "I hate school. It's a form of slavery. I don't understand why I need to do it, but, I'll trust in authority for now and assume I'm doing the right thing and that it will all become clear to me later." "I'm going to be a mom."
Then, five days later on October 4th:
I just found out that the last six years osf my life have been a complete waste of precious time!
I've been busting ass this year to keep my grades up, keep my attendance up and to finally graduate high school, only to find out that there is no point.
She couldn't take the courses she wanted to take in college. How much do we all bet that when she does become a mom, she will definitely send her children to school?
Also, a note on second-handing:
It may sound lame, but I see what it's done to everyone else around me, and I really don't want that for myself. Angelo is the only one of my friends who has made something of himself. Everyone else is still trying, or still in school trying to try.
How unfair is it that just because my parents don't support me or make millions of dollars a year that I have to suffer with a course I don't really want to take?
It's not.
She admires Angelo because he made something of himself. She sees that her other friends and herself are all failing in some way or another, and it's largely school related. Then she says, in essence, that she doesn't want to make anything of herself; or rather, that she doesn't see "making something of yourself" as an action that you do (and therefore, without realizing, renders the act of admiring Angelo for succeeding at it senseless). Instead she sees it as something that only happens if your parents have already made something of themselves and just confer the benefits on her. "But I was never given a chance!" Well, rather; isn't the point of making something of yourself that you, well, make it yourself? In other words, her whole appraisal of her situation is littered with contradictions and un-thought-out (and false) assumptions.
Monday, March 2, 2009
Liberty for kids
On Saturday 28th February, I attended the Convention on Modern Liberty, the basic premise of which seemed to be, By what means shall we attain more and greater liberty? I was one of the youngest attendees; most seemed to be over 30. And despite the fact that all of us were there to discuss and uphold the inalienable human right of individual autonomy, one implicit point of view seemed to prevail absolutely: children were not included.
Wherever children were mentioned, it was in the context of schooling. "Schools ought to instil in our children a respect for our traditions of Liberty in Britain". "Schools ought universally to send children to the Taking Liberties exhibition currently on at the British Library". "If schools would engage children on the subject of their own rights and liberties, I think children would be more interested and attendance would go right up".
I argued and fought against these wicked views at every turn. "Consider the irony", I recall saying, "of the child that does not wish to be at the Taking Liberties exhibition that day, being coerced around this exhibition telling him how free he is!" A roar of self-deprecating laughter; little to no self-criticism as a result.
Or else, "I think that if I were a schoolchild, and I were told to take pride in my own inalienable autonomy, my attendance would drop to nothing all but immdiately." This didn't even earn self-conscious laughter, but merely snorts of bitter amusement, at how obviously true my statement was, and how obviously unallowable to them.
As for the suggestion that children ought to be taught to take pride in our tradition of British Liberty: "If Liberty is, as you said earlier, the absence of an arbitrary and dictatorial power - do schools and parents not impose the most arbitrary and tyrannical of rule? How can you sincerely expect children to take any pride at all in liberty, when they alone of all British citizens are denied the meanest and least of its fruit?"
No satisfactory answer. A repetition that all that was suggested was that schools ought to teach British history more properly; a sentiment with which I concur, if schools are still inevitable, but my point was never met.
Other than myself, the only other person of the eight hundred or so to attend the conference to ever once speak out in favor of human liberty, rather than merely adult liberty, was the blogger Cory Doctorow. During the evening plenary, he announced (I paraphrase):
"If you want to keep your children safe from paedophiles, teach them not to submit to authority. If you want them to keep all their information safe, teach them how to use encryption tools. Don't restrict them, because that won't help them learn anything."
Thank you, Cory.
Wherever children were mentioned, it was in the context of schooling. "Schools ought to instil in our children a respect for our traditions of Liberty in Britain". "Schools ought universally to send children to the Taking Liberties exhibition currently on at the British Library". "If schools would engage children on the subject of their own rights and liberties, I think children would be more interested and attendance would go right up".
I argued and fought against these wicked views at every turn. "Consider the irony", I recall saying, "of the child that does not wish to be at the Taking Liberties exhibition that day, being coerced around this exhibition telling him how free he is!" A roar of self-deprecating laughter; little to no self-criticism as a result.
Or else, "I think that if I were a schoolchild, and I were told to take pride in my own inalienable autonomy, my attendance would drop to nothing all but immdiately." This didn't even earn self-conscious laughter, but merely snorts of bitter amusement, at how obviously true my statement was, and how obviously unallowable to them.
As for the suggestion that children ought to be taught to take pride in our tradition of British Liberty: "If Liberty is, as you said earlier, the absence of an arbitrary and dictatorial power - do schools and parents not impose the most arbitrary and tyrannical of rule? How can you sincerely expect children to take any pride at all in liberty, when they alone of all British citizens are denied the meanest and least of its fruit?"
No satisfactory answer. A repetition that all that was suggested was that schools ought to teach British history more properly; a sentiment with which I concur, if schools are still inevitable, but my point was never met.
Other than myself, the only other person of the eight hundred or so to attend the conference to ever once speak out in favor of human liberty, rather than merely adult liberty, was the blogger Cory Doctorow. During the evening plenary, he announced (I paraphrase):
"If you want to keep your children safe from paedophiles, teach them not to submit to authority. If you want them to keep all their information safe, teach them how to use encryption tools. Don't restrict them, because that won't help them learn anything."
Thank you, Cory.
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