Here’s the thing

Eric,
Here’s the thing.
We (as in Western culture) have been talking about “the just city” since Plato’s account of Socrates. And when we talk about “the just city,” we talk about education. I mean, we don’t even just give it a polite nod; Socrates spends a fair portion of The Republic discussing the curriculum (because, you know, you can’t go telling stories about the gods, that’s dangerous, and it stirs up the wrong kinds of imagery; everyone’s a critic, but whatever). This country’s revolution was propelled by the understanding that democracy and revolution were impossible without the free spread of ideas; it’s why Ben Franklin convinced his buddies to put their treasured books on democratic ideals at a public house and created the first lending library in the history of ever. That was in 1731, and it took a two generations — 40 years—before the ideas had grown enough in the public conversation that throwing a bunch of tea into a harbor seemed not only rational, but compellingly responsible. We’ve been talking about the Just City for three thousand years, and this country in particular conceives of itself as exceptionally just, from John Winthrop to Eisenhower, our national narrative is one of “A city on a hill” so blessed with “prayse and glory that men shall say. . . , “the Lord make it like that of New England.” A beacon shining against tyranny, a new land “with liberty and justice for all.”

We know what works to achieve good outcomes for students: low student teacher ratios in accessible, adequately funded schools. This, in fact, is what the private schools are selling and which parents buy without hesitation. If we know what works and aren’t doing it, it’s because we don’t want to. I don’t much care why we don’t want to; I’m a utilitarian, so I don’t think why we harm others through our (in)action has much weight. When I decide to have a chocolate bar, I know I’m not doing anyone any favors. I know that each cocoa bean is produced in horrible, inhumane, and at times inhuman conditions. But do I say no? No, I do not, not always. Because I don’t want to. Please do not expect me to simply overlook that the situation in United States educational policy is one of not knowing what works. We know. We just don’t care. Why don’t we have a bold federal program? Why didn’t George H. W. Bush, who decided to undertake securing better outcomes for students, launch a sweeping federal program the likes of which haden’t been seen since the New Deal? Because he didn’t want to. Please do not expect me to think that Bush, the head of the CIA, mentored by the head of the OSS, didn’t know what policies would make a difference or how to enact them. He knew. He didn’t care.

We’re the United States of America.

If we’re not doing something, it’s because we don’t want to.

I think that the way we have progressively kicked the responsibility for meaningful educational policy further down the line since Brown — from states, to municipalities, to neighborhoods, to now local school boards devolving into fights over everything from masks to comic books — shows that the educational landscape is thoroughly Balkanized, divided into increasingly smaller, mutually hostile groups. I think this is a moral failure of political leadership; I think this is a threat to democracy; and I think it is bad for everyone.

It’s a moral failure of political leadership in the most basic utilitarian analysis: to know that the action you undertake will create harm to others is only justified when not taking that action would create a sacrifice of equal or greater marginal utility. Truly, denying myself chocolate isn’t on par with forced child labor; denying myself a glass of wine isn’t comparable with enduring sexual assault. Claudia Card writes in The Atrocity Paradigm that callous disregard for the harm we do to others is the definition of evil. I don’t disagree.

I believe providing a robust educational system is essential to fostering democracy, and that the lack of actively fostering democracy opens the door to courting an authoritarian and totalitarian state. See Dewey, and Socrates, and wow, so so many people.

I believe that a well-educated society is one in which everyone is better off, not just the well educated. I believe that to diminish education in a community of any size or to let the educational institution decay is to actively diminish the scope of human wellbeing in those communities. I know that holding education as the cure for social ills carries with it a quiet trap of seeing individuals as responsible for their own mobility, but with that caveat, I also believe that education remains the single most powerful remedy and inoculation against human misery. It is the path by which communities thrive, not merely individuals. 

Public policy, especially educational policy, has the capacity to enrich lives. 

Therefore it should.

Sunday Reflection

 

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Week 3 Reflection

Mind
*Writing. The dissertation is 21,730 words. Slowly, steadily, this will get written. This is the Way of Writing. I wrote a draft of a proposal for a conference, and  have notes for the draft for an internship. Also I found a job posting that seems to fit with my skills and alignment, so I’ll be adding that to the Writing list for the coming week. I asked for letters of recommendation, and that’s a huge thing for me.
*I’ve been leading and responding to Class discussion posts this week, following up on the analysis I turned in (also this week). I like what I do.  This is the Way of the Student.
*I haven’t touched statistics this week, and that’s all okay.
*I opened up my dogsitting calendar again, and have a client scheduled for this coming weekend.

 

Body
*Body recovery efforts are working. My feet still ache at the end of a shift, but much less so. I had Yet Another™️ boundary discussion about scheduling, and changes were made to reflect that. This is the Way of Work-Life Balance.
*I haven’t eaten out as much this week, and I even cooked once. This is good. I picked up yogurt and pomegranate to help keep me on track. I really like vanilla yogurt with pomegranate arils, freshly grated ginger, and honey. It’s kind of amazing. I am drinking milk, but not as much as I once did, and I could stand to pump it up a bit again, especially on work days.
*Supplements seemed to really help. The next step is to stop and see if the boost was enough to level up or if I need to refill the tank a bit more. We were specifically targeting circulation, generally, and joint aches and inflammation specifically, and I think they really helped.
*Saturday vegetable pickup happened
*Milk was not picked up.
*Acupuncture focused on my skull and brain and neurology. I think there is some major healing going on, and honestly I had given up on that as a possibility. It’s nice to be wrong.
*No salt float since Sunday
*No gym time, but lots of steps at the pharmacy.

 

Heart 
*Women's weekly meeting on Monday evening happened.
*Pinball League on Monday after the Meeting, and more connections were made.
*Jedi Council meeting on Wednesday afternoon.
*Philosophy Writers group is really more a connection than a mind thing. One of the philosophers and I met after the meeting and traded work, and this feels good.

 

Soul 
*Meditation happened mostly in a chair after work, whether I wanted to take the time out or not. My acupuncturist and I laughed about the result of a meditation practice is that sometimes the meditation takes you, instead of the other way around. 
*Sleep has been consistently restorative, and I’m blessed. No headaches since last Friday, and this feels especially encouraging. 

I feel like I found my way through some pretty substantial conflict this week, again. Court, non-court, the session with Vivian, the kerfuffle at the pharmacy on Monday. It’s all good. Even the tension with unexpected legal expenses hasn’t ruffled me as much as it once did. I don’t know what the source of the difference is; i certainly don’t feel as though I’ve “worked hard and earned it” or anything but I think that’s what being a Druid is about: cultivating that which cannot be earned, exactly.

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By the numbers

The numbers are going back up. 

On October 25, the 7-day average of daily new cases of Coronavirus in the US was just over 70,000 as national cases continued to decline from a mid-September peak of 175,00 as the Delta variant raged through the country, especially the South.

The 7-day average has been climbing again all week, and is now over 80,000 new cases every day. The low on October 25 was still higher than the spring peak of April 15, meaning the country has had sustained new cases of over 70,000 a day for seven months, or 214 days.

The daily average hit a low in the summer after strict adherence to social distancing and lockdown was in place along with early vaccination uptake.  

The July 3 average of  12,628 was inspiring. We hadn't seen numbers that low since March 2020, and many of us believed we had turned a corner in putting pandemic concerns behind us. Then the Delta variant got a foothold in the US. Delta had made big news in the UK despite greater lockdown measures and higher vaccination rates, so the impact in the US should have been obvious, but we opened up again anyway. 

Vaccination adoption is our only hope, given that there is zero political will for lockdowns and mask wearing is lackadaisical at best.

The virus is making its way through the upper Midwest, and shows no sign of stopping. One wonders who is left to catch the disease. Vaccination rates in the States have stalled out, with the country still below 60% fully vaccinated, even during rollout of a pediatric dose.

Writers Wrap

I finished the Writer's Wrap, just in time for the cold snap to come through. I look forward to a time, probably in 2022, when I can go to Meeting House again. In the meantime, I'll be wearing this over whatever for Zoom meetings and trips to fetch milk or vegetables.

Sunday

Sunday morning Co-op

Almost tall enough

What's with the September green grass?

Planning The Execution

Whackadoodles

Sunday afternoon at the gym