A Brief Interlude (#7)

"Dude, sucking at something is the first step towards being sort of good at something."

~ Jake the Dog, Adventure Time 

I developed my own “serenity prayer” for my writing:

Grant me the humility to accept constructive criticism;
the self-confidence to ignore any insults;
and the ability to express myself clearly through it all.

I find myself coming up empty on the eve of another Monday deadline. It is not that I lack for things to say—if you know me, you know that I can talk about anything. Also, current events have provided a treasure trove of topics to opine about. Rather, if I am going to say something about a worthwhile subject, I want to write something that inspires. However, I doubt my ability to share my thoughts and opinions in a cohesive, coherent, and concise way. Instead, I have played it safe. That is why my posts have focused on personal stories. They are less complex and controversial. They are also a form of practice, where I can work on making logical, structured statements in as few words as possible. 

(My writing still needs a lot of work.) 

But at some point, learning something requires being uncomfortable. Like jumping into the deep end. Biking the Golden Gate Bridge. Or discussing what is wrong with US public education. At some point I have to take a risk and put my thoughts out there. In addition, successful learning requires attempting challenging tasks, and some times failing at them. Finally, holding back my reactions to events transpiring around me is irresponsible and self-destructive. As a member of a community, it is my obligation to speak out; as someone who is analytical, keeping silent inhibits critical thinking. 

(Repressing my thoughts has also been exhausting.)  

Lately my online reading has been focused on the reopening of schools. In particular, I have been following a Facebook page dedicated to the local school district. Like most of my social media experiences, it has been enlightening, troubling, addicting, and rewarding. Yes, I find the comments, and the posts themselves, informative and revealing; in my opinion, they are worth analyzing. Even the emotionally charged, incoherent rants. They all reveal what people are thinking, and how they are processing facts and opinions. I find it all fascinating.

(But is has been a purely voyeuristic, one way experience: I have yet to get involved.)

Through my research, I have made two major observations: the complexity of the US educational system is so great, that it interferes with effective reforms; understanding this complexity is undermined by our own human limits on perceiving and analyzing reality. Our poor response to reopening schools in the face of Covid-19  is a symptom of deeper problems, the solutions of which either elude me or frighten me.

(Maybe I should find a better way of saying all that.)

And that is why I find it so frustrating to discuss it here on my blog, or anywhere else. I just do not have the skills to break it all down into digestible pieces. They cannot be reduced to talking points or memes. Not unless I want to leave out important connections and understandings.  Just writing my thoughts out, without the right structure, or even a proper voice, will sabotage my message. I do not have a problem with a reader who is unwilling to look past their own assumptions, biases, and ideological blinders. (Though, as a teacher, I would love to be able to assist them in transcending these anti-intellectual obstacles—but that is another path I am not ready to take today.) However, I do have an issue with a reader struggling to understand my arguments and conclusions, because I did not explain my position well. That would be devastating to me.

In the end, I cannot start being good at something without first struggling with it. At some point I have to write about the things that matter beyond personal stories.

And get over my fear of posting my opinions.

(To be continued…)