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30.11.10

Soapbox: "Those who can't do, teach."

Every so often on the internet...Okay, ALL THE TIME, when I'm online and I read an article, I'll scroll down and read some of the comments. Most of the time, the comments thread (especially on sites like Huffington Post, CNN, and MSNBC) gets derailed off into left-right political bickering, even if the article is about a relative innocuous, bipartisan topic (it's amazing what people will bring into the discussion when it's completely irrelevant).

I suppose I do this partly out of habit, and partly to keep an eye on what certain discourse is happening. Occasionally, an astute commenter will point out something I hadn't noticed that changes the meaning of the piece. Sometimes, comments will reinforce my initial reaction to the piece, affirming that I hadn't read it incorrectly and that I am not alone in my opinion. Most of the time, debates are just really, really fun to read.

Today, however, I made the mistake of reading the comments on a Media Matters article about Glenn Beck's stance on the Food Safety Modernization Act that just passed Congress (and how he's misrepresented the debate, but that's old news). Media Matters debates usually end up being kind of fun, so I scrolled down and wasted ten minutes reading comments.

I became extremely upset and frustrated when one person began attacking one of the sources used in the article on the basis that he is a professor. This was seriously the person's argument: " An expert in macroeconomics is an expert in macroeconomics. When I get advice on running companies and profits I will get it from someone who is in that business. Not some professor." Later on, this same poster claimed that "A university professor ... has no real world experience."

Now, that's outrageous enough, but I don't ordinarily get so frustrated at random commenters on the internet that I want to write a blog entry about their argument. No, that desire came a few comments later, when this same person (who was arguing back and forth with some other commenters) commented, in defense of their argument, "Those who can, do. Those who can't, teach."













There is a large portion of people who have a propensity to whip out a cliched saying as though that satisfies the burden of proof, then sit back and watch their "wisdom" sink in. More often than not, it is greeted with a facepalm (see above). That poor argument style is nothing new. In fact, this is not the first time I have seen precisely this aphorism used in a debate (the first time was when it was used against me in a discussion of plagiarism in the classroom, of all things).

My problem is with the complete and utter falsehood of the statement itself.

To imply that a person's argument or professional opinion should be discounted because they are currently employed as a professor, and therefore aren't good at the "real world experience" of the thing they are teaching is to perpetuate an anti-intellectual, anti-education, and anti-elitist attitude.

Let's just look at the complete and utter inanity of such a statement: If you're being taught writing, for example, wouldn't you want to take a class from someone who knows how to write? If you're being taught research-oriented science, wouldn't you want information from someone who's actually got experience developing and testing various experiments? If you're learning to play guitar, wouldn't you want to be taught by someone who knows what they're doing? For goodness sake, if you're going to be taught theology, wouldn't you want someone who has experience as a pastor?

Fundamentally, in order to be good teachers, most teachers (especially at advanced level) have experience in that field, not just in the area of teaching. People have this misinformed conception of teaching that all it consists of is walking into a classroom, picking up a textbook, and reading from it, expecting the students to absorb information.

And maybe that is what many people experienced with teachers growing up. But that is not a good teacher.

A good teacher is someone who not only knows how to do the activity at hand, but someone who can explain it in the simplest terms possible.

A good teacher is someone who not only can do the goal of the class (whether it be writing, guitar, science, what have you) well, but knows enough to connect with a student when he or she is not understanding the concept, and be willing to go over it again and again.

A good teacher is someone who not only can tolerate shoddy workmanship, but is able to tell the student how to improve, and have that advice actually work.

A good teacher is someone who gives their time, their money, their sanity in order not to perfect their own craft, but to give others the skills they need to pursue that same craft.

A teacher is someone who takes it upon herself to lead others into the skills she enjoys, to put their improvement ahead of anything else, and to make sure that they leave her class better at the task than before they came in.

In short: "Those who can do well, and can pass on that skill to others should teach."

Being a professor does not discount a person's opinion about an issue, simply because they have chosen to teach about it. Indeed, being a professor reinforces the authority of that opinion because it usually means that they know their topic well, they have worked within that field in "the real world" and they are now passing on that experience to others.

Teaching is so often degraded, especially in American society, where teaching is one of the lowest paid professions. There's an anti-education strain in society that comes out virulently in debates about expert witnesses and expert knowledge. Let's face it: We've all met teachers who are fantastic doers, but terrible at passing on the wisdom that they have. But I have yet to meet a teacher who couldn't actually DO what they were teaching me - whether it be writing, pastoral ministry, shop class, journalism, historical study, debate...whatever.

Teachers don't teach if they can't do. On behalf of teachers everywhere, let's drop that stereotype once and for all, shall we? Those who can say that teachers can't do were never teachers (and probably shouldn't be).

24.11.10

New Projects and Other Stuff

I have a lot of new and exciting stuff going on, so I apologize for the lack of posts, and I apologize for the lack of cohesion in this one. This post is a sort of catch-all of things going on.

1. I have a new writing gig (thus my most recent absence from this blog). I am working with my friend Travis and his friend Justin on a theology and church culture online magazine, The BlackBird Press. I find the discussion that goes on in those comments to be stimulating, insightful, and interesting. The conversations that spring up are not ones that are easy to walk away from, and frequently challenge me, which is something every one needs once in a while. I have most recently written an article on John and Stasi Eldredge's Captivating, the female companion to John's quite famous Wild At Heart. It's an exegetical and gender-biased nightmare, and I am incredibly excited to have had the opportunity to write this article on it. Would you look at that: HERE IT IS.

2. I'm going home in a month! I will be flying into Sioux Falls at 10:20PM on December 20th, after 15 hours of traveling from Tokyo (not to mention the five hours it's going to take me to get up there by shinkansen [bullet train]). I am STOKED to see Sioux Falls again, and stoked to meet my niece for the first time! If you live in Sioux Falls, and want to get some coffee while I'm in town (from the 21st to the 2nd of January), shoot me an email or leave me a comment.

3. I have a lot of disordered thoughts about the TSA, the Korean conflict, the NZ mine explosion, DADT, Afghanistan policy...etc. Needless to say, a lot of different things concerning world politics have been pinging around in my head of late, but my mind hasn't settled on one singular thing to talk about, so, I apologize for lack of commentary on specifics. The TSA has, of course, been on the minds of most Americans, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't hoping to have some sort of TSA story after my international traveling next month. But that's neither here nor there.

4. I've been reading a lot. Besides Captivating, I have a book on Arminian theology by Roger E. Olson (of Truett Seminary fame) headed my way, and I'm stoked about it. I'm also picking up All the Pretty Horses by Cormac McCarthy again, and hoping I can get past the first few pages this time.

5. Harry Potter VII Part 1 is out. I went to see it Friday night with a friend, and loved it. It was very faithful to the book, but still made me jump out of my skin at points, which is always a good thing. Very well done, and I'm glad I got to see it opening day (in fact, mine was just starting as midnight showings in America were finishing. How's that for cool?) Sioux Falls friends, I am definitely up for another viewing!

6. I have an absolutely adorable niece, and she has really awesome parents. I'll close today's post with a picture of my dear Vera and her tuckered out daddy. And no, not that Vera (fast forward to :41).

I hope this finds you well!

10.11.10

10 Reasons I'm a Terrible Evangelical

I discovered a new blogger tonight, Rachel Held Evans. Evans is a "liberal" Christian, an Arminian, and a social justice advocate. Needless to say, we have a lot in common. I was glad to discover her because she is writing as I would want to write. In that vein, one of her posts inspired me to do a similar thing over here.

10 Things That Make Me a Terrible Evangelical*:

1. I tend to swear a lot. In fact, I had to restrain myself from including in the title of this list the generally unacceptable synonym for poop. My mother would be shocked, but I'll be honest, I've got a bit of a potty mouth sometimes.

2. I have a love/hate relationship with Paul. I love what he did for starting Christianity off, but some of the things he says are just mind-blowingly strange and frustrating. Sometimes I even wonder if he might have been wrong about some stuff.

3. John Piper makes me violent. Maybe that's just a personal issue and not evangelicalism as a whole, but he is at the forefront of a lot of these things. When he blamed the tornado in Minneapolis last year on the ECLA meeting to discuss ordination for homosexual pastors, he kind of went in my "you're crazy and I will flip off the computer every time I read something you write just to relieve my frustration at the wrongness" box.

4. I really hate "Christian" movies and most of the movies I own are R-rated. It really sucks that "Christian art" is synonymous with kitsch, Thomas Kinkade, and just plain out terrible work. I much prefer the Coens, Danny Boyle Wes Anderson, and Christopher Nolan (all of which are notable in part for their frequently dark and twisted themes and humor) to say...Kirk Cameron, or that movie Rebecca St. James was in.

5. I cheered when Neil Patrick Harris and his partner adopted twins. Maybe it's the fact that I have several bisexual friends. Maybe it's just that I know a lot of gay people. Maybe it's my pro-adoption happiness outweighing any qualms about homosexual parents. Maybe it's the influence of MTV. Whatever it is, I really don't have a problem with you being allowed to marry and adopt kids if you want.

6. I read Harry Potter and other fantasy novels voraciously. I'm also against banning books. Then again, I read Stephen King's It when I was 13, so...

7. I really, really hate Contemporary Christian Radio. There was a time when it was all I would listen to. My music library on my computer, my CD player in my car, the music on my iPod were all tuned to contemporary Christian music - the likes of the Newsboys, Leeland, Audio Adrenaline, Everyday Sunday, Relient K, etc. Then I discovered Radiohead, and now CCM leaves a bad taste in my mouth, metaphorically speaking.

8. I like President Obama and will vote for him in 2012, especially if Palin or Gingrich are running against him. 'Nuff said.

9. I don't believe in the concept of Biblical inerrancy. I'm fine with Scripture being the Word of God and authoritative at that, but without error? Not so much. The four gospels are enough to show us the major problems with that.

10. John Green put it best: "There is no them. There are only facets of us." If anything is at odds with modern evangelical Christianity (see explanatory note below) it is this: the idea that there can be no us vs. them. That there is no them - there is no Other, at least not insofar as it is encapsulated in our fellow human beings. The things that we see in them that we like or dislike are reflections of what makes all of us human, and to set up any sort of us vs. them dichotomy is to tell a lie about what the group you are talking about is as human beings.


*This list is meant to respond to the general characterization of Evangelicalism in society, which tends to consist of conservative Republicans, Calvinists, and rigid fundamentalists. I realize that not all who self-identify as "evangelical" would agree with such a characterization, but, in my experience and impression, and I think in the impression of America in general, these sorts of things listed here tend to be litmus tests for belonging to the evangelical church as currently characterized. That said, this list is hyperbole for humorous effect, all except for point #10. That is, indeed, one major problem I have with both conservative evangelicalism in America and the neo-Calvinists (coughJohnPipercough) who are so influential in it. And I realize that some of you would argue that in attacking Evangelical America, I am myself setting up an us vs. them dichotomy, but I don't believe this is the case, as I am responding both to a caricature in the group and the general attitude I have encounter. My theology is not based on an us vs. them dichotomy - I still see "them" as fellow Christians, though "they" may not see me the same way. And therein lies the difference.

6.11.10

This is going to surprise some of you, but...

I didn't vote this year.

And I didn't vote in 2008, though that was more laziness than anything.

This year, it was a combination of laziness (I had no idea where to find a notary public necessary for the absentee ballot) and being upset with the choices my state was giving me. Were I registered to vote in Delaware, Nevada, Texas, Michigan, or maybe even Wisconsin (Russ Feingold!), I very likely would have voted. In South Dakota, however, the choices were somewhat dismal, and the ballot measures even less so (I will get to this later). So, I didn't bother voting.

Let me establish something first: Derek Webb writes that a Christian is called to do one thing only when it comes to performing civic duty, and that is to approach it in a way that is in line with one's conscience. "No party can co-opt a vote that isn't cast," he says. "Voting is a legal right, like carrying a gun or having an abortion. And I can abstain from doing anything I have a legal right to if it violates my conscience." Our conscience is the guide God gave us for following things not explicitly laid out in Biblical law (as Paul outlines in Romans 14). We talk a lot of having a "conviction" about certain issues, and even within the church, we are flabbergasted when people have different convictions about issues than what we ourselves feel. For example, I feel a conviction to help the poor, so much to the point that it would go against my conscience to vote for someone who does not have the same attitude. I feel a similar conviction about war - I cannot put my vote behind a candidate who wants to send an 18 year old to die in a self perpetuating cycle of violence. And I will be honest: I do not feel the same conviction about typically Evangelical issues like abortion, gay marriage or guns.

So I didn't vote. In fact, I haven't voted since I turned 18, and, frankly, I wish I hadn't voted then (in case the math is hard, I turned 18 in 2004, and cast a vote for George W. Bush, and, in the state of South Dakota, for John Thune, both of which are votes I wish I could take back).

Now, I do a lot of discussion of politics, as regular readers of this blog will note. Which is why I know that some of you are a bit surprised to hear that I didn't vote. Having had this discussion several times with different friends (thus the motivation for writing this particular blog entry), I can hear the response now: "But if you don't vote, you don't have a right to complain about the results of that election."

Let's examine that particular objection. It comes, quite specifically, from my Australian friend Justin. In Australia, they have two main parties, but they also have several smaller parties one could vote for if so inclined, which is somewhat similar to the US, but that's where the similarity stops. Australia has compulsory voting, which means that you get fined if you don't vote, and they vote for parties and party platforms in the major elections rather than the leaders, which is, understandably, similar to the UK system.

I'll be honest: I do have a bit of a problem with compulsory voting - I want the right to abstain as much as I want the right to vote if so inclined; so sue me, I like having choices. But, if I was functioning within a system that gave me the choice to vote for the party that most closely aligns to my issues, and not necessarily the person, I might have less of a problem. As it is, though, such an argument is merely academic, as the US has neither compulsory voting nor party elections.

If we take a look at the State of South Dakota, my home state and the place I am registered to vote (as an independent), we see that compulsory voting would be a terrible idea. This year, our junior Senator, John Thune, ran uncontested. There were two major ballot measures: medical marijuana, and banning smoking in bars and other places. The race for our singular representative in the federal House of Representatives was either an incumbent Democrat who voted against the health care reform in a solely political move (in other words, voted against her own conscience on the issue) and voted to put us in Iraq. Or, we had a newbie Republican with very little political experience, but who is anti-abortion, pro-war, pro-guns, anti-gay marriage, and pro-repealing the health care reform (tea party lite, in other words).

Those races and ballot measures are the ones I cared about the most, and I wasn't given very good choices. I always pay attention to South Dakota's ballot measures because there's usually some sort of anti-abortion law. Apparently this year there was almost a measure similar to those taken in Colorado and Arizona, which dictated basically that the health care reform law did not apply to that state. Had that measure been on the South Dakota ballot, you bet I'd have made a greater effort to vote, because that is something I feel a conviction on. However, as it is, I don't really care about medical marijuana, and I don't really care about smoking in businesses.

I would have loved the opportunity to vote John Thune out of office and undo some of what I did when I helped to vote him in. But, he was unchallenged, so voting wouldn't have mattered.

In the house race, I had the choice between voting for someone who shares some of my personal convictions but won't vote for them in office, and someone who is basically antithetical to a number of my convictions. It would mean casting a vote for someone who wasn't going to perform as I want them to, or voting for someone who doesn't share my convictions at all.

That's not really a choice. And I like having choices.

So, instead, I choose to abstain rather than vote in a way which would not honor my conscience, or be in line with my convictions.

Does this mean I now lack the right to complain about the vote?

To quote Sarah Palin, "HELL NO."

I have other means of "performing my civic duty." I can write letters to the Congressmen and women in order to alert them to issues I care about. I can participate in protests and lobby Washington. I can, as I am planning on doing, get a job at a non-profit and participate in the political process that way. And I can still complain, comment, and wax poetic about the results of the political process because by abstaining, I am still voicing an opinion.

How?

I am saying that I refuse to participate in a system that only offers me paltry choices that are not really choices, and doesn't allow me to participate in the choosing of those people representing each party (South Dakota has closed primaries).

I am saying that I will not vote for candidates who I know violate my conscience. The lesser of two evils is still an evil and we need to give up on the stupid idea that voting for the lesser of two evils is somehow committing a good just because you voted.

I am saying that my duties extend beyond the voting booth, and that I can still participate in the political process even without doing this "civic duty." As a citizen of the "Christian nation,"* I am not obligated to vote, but I am still obligated to love my neighbor, which I can do by not voting.

I am saying that I refuse to do a "duty" solely because I am an American and I have a right to do it. I am approaching my choices with the conviction and knowledge and understanding that every American should carry into the voting booth, but rarely happens because we emphasize duty over knowledge.

Think of it this way: When I purchase food for lunch, I am putting my body behind what I buy. I am, with my dollars and my stomach, trusting that food to work for my body, and to hopefully benefit it. In a good system, I will be able to choose for something that, while not perfect, will still be somewhat in line with what I want to eat that day and will be good for my diet - saying, I have the choice of eating a Caeser salad with all the dressing, fried chicken or macaroni and cheese. They may not be the best choices for my body, but at least they'll give me some nutrition. This would be an ideal political system - candidates who align with some of my views but maybe not all of them, available for me to vote for.

What our current system gives me, however, is the choice between a poisoned sandwich, and a poop-filled piece of cake. Sure, the poop cake might not kill me, and it's definitely better than a poisoned sandwich, but I'm still eating poop. This is what happens when we "vote for the lesser of two evils."

And I should have the choice not to eat poop if I don't want to. This doesn't mean I don't get to complain about it when all my friends start throwing up around me.

Grisly image aside: In the midst of elections and campaigns, we hear "VOTE VOTE VOTE DO YOUR DUTY." We gasp at infringements on peoples' rights to vote (think of the controversial Sharron Angle Univision ad which was telling Hispanics, in Spanish, not to vote). We become so concerned about participating in the political process that we never stop to step back and think about whether or not we should. Maybe, just maybe, there are times when abstaining is the right choice. In this midterm election, my choices were terrible, and I refuse to vote for something that goes against my conscience, something that would poison the system more. Sure, I may be hungry for a little while waiting for something better, but in the meantime, I can talk to the chef, and I can hope to motivate change in other areas.
________
*By Christian nation, I mean God's Kingdom, not 'Murrica.
^Picture stolen from my friend David Kosmak.

2.11.10

Another Reason to Love Harry Potter

The Harry Potter Alliance, a non-profit that grew out of the love for all things awesome and Harry Potter-y, has started a campaign that runs from November 2010 to June 2011, the time span between the release of Deathly Hallows Parts 1 and 2. The approximately 7 months will be spent attempting to effect some change for good in seven Horcruxes (bad things, for the non Harry Potter folk) in the world.

This month's is the Starvation Wage Horcrux. At that link, you'll find a petition that adds your name and comments to emails to Warner Brothers studios, asking them to make a change in the chocolate sold as Harry Potter trademarks. That change? To make it completely fair trade.

How awesome is that?

I urge to surf on over, check it out, and sign away! You can also found out about Lumos Parties, which are being held in the time leading up to the release - a Mary Kay sort of Harry Potter to promote the cause of fairly traded chocolate.

The fact that people are using Harry's name to change the world for the better is a testament to how awesomely good and important these books are. I mean, there aren't many books that could be said to spawn a movement that's about doing GOOD, are there?