Have you heard of John Brockman? He has, apparently, made a bit of a living through asking thought provoking questions on his website and then publishing the responses. Most of the stuff his contributors write is beyond me: I read This Idea Must Die, and much of it had to do with supporting (or refuting) string theory, as well as other quanta concepts that were impossible for my feeble brain to comprehend.
What I like about the entire conceit is that there is an openness to the format. Brockman poses a question; scientists, philosophers, and writers answer it; then we get to read what other people think. While it's not dialectical, since the writers don't cross-pollinate, it gives a semi-conversational approach to the same question. Things that others consider important, I never thought of. Areas of my expertise are rather overlooked, which gives me a chance to always feel unsure and out of my comfort zone.
Whilst at a bookstore, I happened across another of John Brockman's books. This one was older, but the title itself made me think. What Have You Changed Your Mind About? While I didn't actually buy the book--I still have that feeling that buying a book is a special experience and I need to make sure that the one I buy is something I really want--I tweeted the question in order to remind myself I wanted to write on this topic.
Not surprisingly, because I asked a question as a note to myself, a handful of people answered. This was not unwelcome: I put it out there because I thought it was a great question. The answers I got (in fewer than 140 characters) ranged from culinary to educational to complete existential revamping.
What have you changed your mind about? What have I?
In my case, I changed my mind about where I find value.* This is a natural process of growing up, I think. I used to find value in Spider-Man novels and comic books, as I mentioned before. I used to like eating...then I hated eating...and now I'm coming back to enjoying food again. I had a tendency to pass through the world without analysis; now I have a hard time shutting off the analytical part of my head.
But I think the biggest thing that I've changed is my understanding of "the power of the question" (de la Rocha). During my first year as a teacher, a student asked me if I was a Young Earth Creationist. I only hesitated a second before saying I was. He said he was surprised to hear that, because I had given the impression of being a deep thinker and following evidence.
Not long after that, I changed my mind.
As a teacher of the "Socratic Method"**, I've seen again and again the power of the question--whatever it may be. Asking questions is simultaneously paralyzing and empowering, despite its simplicity. I used to think I knew things, and that the world made pretty straightforward sense. In some areas, it does...or does it? I was going to say that loving my kids and being a parent are straightforward things I understand...but I don't. Not really. I mean, I'm trying to make a difference to these boys whom I'm raising, and I certainly love them, but I really don't understand them. They have different priorities, different tastes, different views that I can't follow intuitively. So, maybe I don't actually have anything simple and straightforward. Maybe the "joy in the journey" idea (the great Homeric ideal?) is my best bet: To engage with life as fully as I can and to learn about all I can and all I am. But what does that look like? Is it experimentation? Additional reading? Less reading? More time with the kids? Less time in their way so that they can experiment, grow, and learn outside of my shadow?
See? I just changed my mind again.
---
* One thing that I haven't changed my mind about is my love for Gayle. Even when we were broken up for a year before my mission, I never let her go. We've been in various stages of love since the winter of 1999, and I'm glad that hasn't changed.
** I always feel the need to qualify that as being a modified Socratic method; exploration of ideas, rather than questions that poke holes in the premise of the interlocutor, is my primary MO.
What I like about the entire conceit is that there is an openness to the format. Brockman poses a question; scientists, philosophers, and writers answer it; then we get to read what other people think. While it's not dialectical, since the writers don't cross-pollinate, it gives a semi-conversational approach to the same question. Things that others consider important, I never thought of. Areas of my expertise are rather overlooked, which gives me a chance to always feel unsure and out of my comfort zone.
Whilst at a bookstore, I happened across another of John Brockman's books. This one was older, but the title itself made me think. What Have You Changed Your Mind About? While I didn't actually buy the book--I still have that feeling that buying a book is a special experience and I need to make sure that the one I buy is something I really want--I tweeted the question in order to remind myself I wanted to write on this topic.
Not surprisingly, because I asked a question as a note to myself, a handful of people answered. This was not unwelcome: I put it out there because I thought it was a great question. The answers I got (in fewer than 140 characters) ranged from culinary to educational to complete existential revamping.
What have you changed your mind about? What have I?
In my case, I changed my mind about where I find value.* This is a natural process of growing up, I think. I used to find value in Spider-Man novels and comic books, as I mentioned before. I used to like eating...then I hated eating...and now I'm coming back to enjoying food again. I had a tendency to pass through the world without analysis; now I have a hard time shutting off the analytical part of my head.
But I think the biggest thing that I've changed is my understanding of "the power of the question" (de la Rocha). During my first year as a teacher, a student asked me if I was a Young Earth Creationist. I only hesitated a second before saying I was. He said he was surprised to hear that, because I had given the impression of being a deep thinker and following evidence.
Not long after that, I changed my mind.
As a teacher of the "Socratic Method"**, I've seen again and again the power of the question--whatever it may be. Asking questions is simultaneously paralyzing and empowering, despite its simplicity. I used to think I knew things, and that the world made pretty straightforward sense. In some areas, it does...or does it? I was going to say that loving my kids and being a parent are straightforward things I understand...but I don't. Not really. I mean, I'm trying to make a difference to these boys whom I'm raising, and I certainly love them, but I really don't understand them. They have different priorities, different tastes, different views that I can't follow intuitively. So, maybe I don't actually have anything simple and straightforward. Maybe the "joy in the journey" idea (the great Homeric ideal?) is my best bet: To engage with life as fully as I can and to learn about all I can and all I am. But what does that look like? Is it experimentation? Additional reading? Less reading? More time with the kids? Less time in their way so that they can experiment, grow, and learn outside of my shadow?
See? I just changed my mind again.
---
* One thing that I haven't changed my mind about is my love for Gayle. Even when we were broken up for a year before my mission, I never let her go. We've been in various stages of love since the winter of 1999, and I'm glad that hasn't changed.
** I always feel the need to qualify that as being a modified Socratic method; exploration of ideas, rather than questions that poke holes in the premise of the interlocutor, is my primary MO.