Changeing to Google

I have made a change in my blog to link it to my Google+ account. For those friends of mine on Google+ who were happy only hearing from me very infrequently, sorry. I finally decided to start tying systems together to see what happens.

Moved!

I am now settled in Spokane, WA. I am currently setting up meetings with local contacts to see what we can get going in the Pacific Northwest, and am trying to get connected with our Northwest supporters. If you are living in the Northwest, and want to talk about what I do with IRI, please feel free to leave me a message, or send a request via our website. All you need to do is mention Jason (that's me) or the blog (Incoming Insights) in your message, and it will get to me.

Moving

I am in the process of moving, so I probably won't have anything to post until I am done. Who knew that packing up an apartment's worth of stuff would take so much effort? I will try to post before the end of the month, but most likely, I won't be available again until July. See you then!

Too Much Information?

“Where is the Life we have lost in living?

Where is the wisdom we have lost in knowledge?

Where is the knowledge we have lost in information?”

—T.S. Eliot, The Rock (1934)

Every so often, you come across a thought that hits you hard.  As I have mentioned before in this blog, one of the greatest struggles the Mozambicans, or any historically suppressed people, face is an atrophied ability[1] to conceptualize. This often stems from a focused attempt by colonial or other oppressive powers to discourage their second-class (or lower) population from learning too much. This is terrible, but understandable and even expected, given the nature of power and what some people will do to hold onto it.

What is more disturbing, however, is to see symptoms of low conceptualization skills appearing in what are supposed to be (at least theoretically) “free” cultures[2]. As a teacher at the undergraduate level in the U.S., I have encountered many students who come from middle-class, if not affluent backgrounds, who have difficulty identifying cause-and-effect relationships, analyzing and prioritizing information, and generally understanding concepts, as opposed to mere memorization of facts. These characteristics are similar to those we find in historically suppressed cultures. Clearly, many of the students do not act like a suppressed people group, so barring abuse or other abnormal trauma, what would cause this lack of conceptualization in what is, for all intents and purposes, a conceptually-oriented culture?

It isn't that I am identifying anything new, either—most educators are aware of a general reduction of academic ability in U.S. students. It has been happening for years and continues to worsen, despite attempts to improve curriculum and develop more educational programs. What T.S. Eliot has pointed out, however, is that this may not just be a matter of poor education as much as it is an incorrect focus on the content of the lessons. That is, we are teaching students to acquire and regurgitate data and information—history, math, science, etc.—instead of helping them understand how to use the data they have available.

With the rise of the internet, we are now overwhelmed with information. Children today have access to more information than any other generation in known history. It is said you can learn nearly anything that humanity knows through the World Wide Web. The problem isn't with the information itself, but with understanding what to do with it. It is all too easy to just take information and apply it to situations it seems to fit, and presume we have an answer. I see this all the time in my teaching (often in the form of plagiarism, when a student fails to cite where they got their information). Unfortunately, this is usually not enough. Having information is useless unless you understand how to apply it. Explaining how to organize and prioritize the data you have, as well as identify the consequences and formulate a response, is not something that we are currently teaching in most schools. Others are voicing similar opinions, and I feel the need to add my own voice to the chorus: we need to stop focusing on teaching students data, and start focusing on teaching students data organization, analysis, and problem-solving.

This will help students make better use of the massive amount of information that is available. I do not mean that they will merely to be better at research, but they will be better able to determine what information is important to their personal goals and development. That is, they need to know not only what data will help them in class or at work, but what will help them become better people. This way, they can not only have information, but also knowledge, that is, a personal comprehension of the data. Understanding how to use this knowledge helps us develop wisdom. It is my hope that such wisdom can help people learn how to truly live.

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[1] As always, lack of ability in no way implies lack of capacity. Just because no one ever taught you how to drive a car, it doesn't mean you can’t learn—it just means you haven’t.

[2] For my purposes, a “free” culture is one which has not been deliberately suppressed in the recent memory of its people. Many (though not all) Caucasian people groups would fit this category, as well as some Asian groups, and a few others.

Incoming Insights: Direct and Indirect Identity

In the last article, I explained some of the discoveries we have made at IRI about learning. I want to expand a bit on that and talk about how the ideas of direct and indirect understanding impact self-identity. We have found this is important when helping others improve themselves.

As I covered in the previous post, people tend to learn things in one of two ways – directly, through personal comprehension of an idea, or indirectly, by learning someone else’s ideas. In general, we learn indirectly at first, but our ultimate goal should be direct understanding. This is especially true when we are learning about our own personal identity.

If someone points out that we learn about ourselves from others, many of us would understand what was meant. I learn about who I am initially from my parents, my siblings, my extended family, and my friends. They tell me my name, that I am a human, what ethnic group I belong to, and other interesting things about me. Eventually, however, I start to formulate my own ideas about things: blue is a prettier color than other colors, science is more interesting than art (or vice versa), cauliflower is yucky, and so on. Over time, I understand that I am myself, and other people are not me. In a healthy environment, I also understand that I am responsible for myself. Ideally, I develop a direct self-identity; I am me, and I know who I am.

In reality, however, the final parts of this are a bit easier said than done. Most of us constantly struggle with other people’s perceptions of us. Sometimes this is good, as others can help me see things about myself that are valuable or need developing that I had missed. All too often, however, this is a negative experience, as others see me as too short, too fat, too ugly, or otherwise inferior or deficient. We struggle between understanding ourselves directly (having a strong internal sense of who I am), and understanding ourselves indirectly (seeing ourselves as others see us) for most of our lives. We want to use what we learn from others (indirectly) to form a correct direct understanding of ourselves. We don’t always succeed, but we know understand our goal.

Unfortunately, the ideal sometimes gives way to the terrible. In some situations, our ability to develop our own direct understanding of ourselves is stifled or suppressed. There are many scenarios where this can happen: abusive families, overbearing teachers or supervisors who will only accept their understanding of things, and nearly every case of slavery or broad cultural oppression. In these cases, our ability to form a direct understanding of ourselves is squashed in favor of a second person’s understanding. We are told someone else already knows everything there is to know about us (or at least everything important). Our identity is forged by proxy, and we develop an indirect identity.

This indirect identity creates a sense of dependency—I now need this second person, because it is through that person that I understand myself. I suppose this could be acceptable if the other person understood me perfectly, but that’s not possible (other people are no more perfect than I am, after all). As a result, I become dependent on this second person for my identity, and the associated sense of well-being and security that goes along with having a sense of self.

This is a dangerous situation. We have discovered that this dependent sense of self seems tied to a displaced sense of responsibility. One of the issues we have encountered among suppressed people groups is a sense that they are not in charge of their lives. Not simply that they are being controlled, but that they really aren't responsible for what happens to them. Our theory is that since their identity is tied up in their suppressor, it causes them to identify their suppressor as the one responsible for their lives. Thus, I am not responsible for what happens to me—the person I depend is responsible. This displaced sense of responsibility makes it difficult for people to act on their own behalf in areas of importance. Even more tragically, since long-term changes are out of their control, their only sense of agency tends to come from self-gratification.

Ironically, as long as the suppressor remains, this situation is livable. I can get along in life, as long as I have this second person (who is responsible for me) telling me what to do. I may not like that they are in charge, but I am accustomed to it, and have learned to live within the arrangement to the best of my ability. Once the suppressor is removed, however (whether by an external liberator, or by my own rebellion), things get tough. Now I discover that I don’t know who I am. In addition, I am accustomed to having a suppressor, and all my habits are oriented around that end. It makes a tragic sense, then, that many people from abusive relationships return to their abuser or end up in similarly abusive situations later. On a large scale, it means that a suppressed culture will have a tendency to look for a new “substitute” for their old oppressor. This is not necessarily a conscious decision—it is a consequence of habit.

This is a tragic cycle--one that is self-reinforcing once started. Impressions and repeated behavior, over time, become habits. These habits, over time, spread throughout the culture. Habits repeated throughout the culture are eventually seen as normative. Thus, the culture itself can serve to reinforce this sense of helplessness and displaced identity. The people of such a culture may lament their position, or think it perfectly acceptable, but at the end of the day, it is just the way things are.

Fortunately, these issues can be addressed. I'll discuss how we have been working to break these cycles next month.