Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Family Dynamics in The Bluest Eye

I opened The Bluest Eye determined to read it optimistically, as hard as that may be. I read searching for signs of family dynamics that worked and reasons why they didn’t. The families we read about in The Bluest Eye are far from desirable, but they are real and familiar in some ways and not totally dysfunctional. As Professor Bump mentions in his piece, only 5 percent of black families researched in a psychiatrists’ study were determined to be “severely dysfunctional.” (Bump, 350) While that observation may be taken to be severely naïve if anything—at least that’s something. Similarly, I liked Professor Bump’s observations about the complaint that some African American writers, “Toni Morrison among them—have betrayed the black family by failing to shoulder responsibility for restoring it to an image of wholeness and unity.” (Bump, 350) I think it’s important that Toni Morrison and other writer’s “report” families the way they want to. It’s honest, if not in the sense that it’s literally true but from the idea that these families are somewhere within these writers, within their communities, their consciousness. (After all, The Bluest Eye, is set in Toni Morrison’s childhood hometown as it says on the back of the book.) As she says within the first few lines of the book, “Here is the family.” (Morrison, 5) There’s no use in glamorizing something to make any of us feel better. Families aren’t perfect; they aren’t all “optimal.” (Bump, 350) Here they are.

Not all families are like this, but that doesn't mean they're all bad.



So what about the opening section? I took it to mean that there are all sorts of layers to a family. Each family has the potential to be any variant of these stories. There’s the Dick and Jane variety, perfect, clean and meant to bring up children positively (after all, the books were meant to teach children to read). The next extreme is the space-less, hurried, messy and overwhelming case of a family, without structure, without a true consideration for others. I took one look at that representation of a “family” and decided that I didn’t want to take the time to go through it or pay it any attention. Finally, there’s something in between. Like I said before, any of these forms can become the next. The ingredients are all there to build the “ideal” family, but just as quickly everything can be taken away and the overwhelming blob of a family can take its place. I first took this passage to mean that families are irredeemable, dysfunctional—that no sort of ideal Dick and Jane family exists. But I think there’s more to it. Morrison could’ve shown the two extremes and created a direct contrast, but she did not. She included something in between.

While Morrison’s pictures of family life in Lorain, Ohio are grim, there’s plenty of good, plenty of bad and a lot of in between. There is obvious value placed on the family. When Claudia talks about the fear some people have of being placed “outdoors,” or kicked out, the thought of placing your own kin outside of the house is “criminal.” (Morrison, 17) Similarly, the threats and fighting—while terrible—are largely hollow and probably just serve as a response to their undesirable conditions, not some true hatred of their family members. The book even talks about Mrs. Breedlove’s need for arguing and illustrates an example that shows that it is not so terrible. During a particularly intense fight between Cholly and Mrs. Breedlove—which appears to be a typical occurrence—their son shouts, “Kill him!” after which Mrs. Breedlove yells back, “Cut out that noise, boy!” (Morrison, 44) Of course this is not a desirable family situation, but is not one that is hopeless. I understand that it’s dangerous to take the position that these families are normal or redeemable in this book, especially because we know something terrible that is going to happen, but I think Ms. Morrison wants us to feel the same way. Endearing qualities of Claudia’s mother are found throughout the book—Claudia loving her singing, her mother taking care of her when she’s sick, and feeling genuinely sorry when she misunderstood the girls for helping Pecola outside. Similarly, clues point to the reasons behind the families’ troubles: poverty takes the forefront, certainly, while a general understanding of love and the man’s role (Claudia thinking that a man leaving is a necessary part of the love cycle, for example) differently than what we’re used to allow us to better understand the family dynamics in The Bluest Eye.

While Claudia's mother is not an ideal mother figure, I know she still loves her children.

http://blogs.click.ro/diana_nicolae/files/2009/05/a_mother__s_love_by_prettyfreakjesper.jpg

Monday, March 29, 2010

Black Elk 2



The second half of Black Elk Speaks was shocking to say the least. To be honest I felt a little betrayed by Black Elk. He had set himself up as a redeeming, heroic figure. Much of his language seems Christ-like in fact, such as in this passage: “After this, I went on curing sick people, and I was busy doing this. I was in doubt no longer. I felt like a man, and I could feel the power with me all the time.” (Black Elk, 29) The ending sentences, then, were a total surprise. Black Elk seems to have given up completely. I understand his reasoning, but I don’t necessarily approve of his response. Sure, sometimes reality is tough. Nobody can blame Black Elk for feeling terrible and having difficulty knowing how to respond after seeing the destruction of his people and such harrowing and disturbing images as a, “a little baby trying to suck its mother, but she was bloody and dead….” (Black Elk, 34) But from what I had come to believe about Black Elk from the first half or so made me think that he would be able to jump up from this traumatic experience and work to protect his people. After all, isn’t that what his visions had been telling him to do all along? I felt that his final sentences, his lifelong reaction to the events that he had witnessed, were complete and total contradictions to all that he had said before. Is this a powerful message of how devastating trauma can be or just a mistake that should have been corrected?
What Black Elk was forced to experience is terrible.

Black Elk says two things in particular that stuck out to me as direct contradictions to his final reaction. (Again, I don’t think the way he responded was intolerable but perfectly natural under the circumstances. I just think a lesson can be learned from the difference between what he says and how he ultimately acted.) First, he says that, “You have noticed that the truth comes into this world with two faces. One is sad with suffering, and the other laughs; but it is the same face, laughing or weeping.” (Black Elk, 25)
This statement reminded me of the Greek drama masks.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/tsevis/2677658118/
This was a powerful message to me that there are important lessons to learn in suffering and that regardless of our circumstances we always have the potential to laugh or cry. In this way, I think Black Elk should have understood that life can be hard but it can also get better. Instead of committing himself to the idea that his people may be doomed and lost forever, he could have envisioned a brighter future for them and himself, like the many ones we heard about throughout these selections of Black Elk Speaks. Second, Black Elk’s strong statement that “It is from understanding that power comes,” (Black Elk, 29) was a message that I think he forgot to listen to himself. Black Elk could have taken this situation, viewed it in a different, less final and devastating, way and taken a position of power to help his people get back on their feet.
While I feel it may seem harsh to criticize Black Elk’s actions, I still wanted to grab his shoulders after I read the end of this piece and ask him what happened. How any of us would respond to such a difficult situation I don’t really know, but I think if you are willing and so prepared to be a leader like Black Elk presented himself as, you should be able to take action. Throughout his visions, he learned so much about the world and what his people needed. He helped them. He became less afraid of the dangers in his world and was ready to face him. Difficult situations shouldn’t end our sense of leadership but try them and make us stronger as a result. I don’t think that Black Elk was meant to be, “a pitiful old man who has done nothing.” (Black Elk, 35) As we prepare ourselves to be leaders, I think that we should keep in mind the trials leadership brings and develop an indomitable mindset, ready to tackle any task.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VD1MNHy2S2M

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Black Elk Speaks 1

After all we’ve read about and discussed concerning unity, speciesism, and respect in class, I still felt that the ideas and themes of this selection of Black Elk Speaks were completely unfamiliar, alien almost. It sort of made me sad. The size and scope of Black Elk’s world is at once very contained and epic, contained because each sentence is centered on nature and spirituality and epic because our world is so....real and matter of fact in comparison. There’s really no other way to put it.
Black Elk speaks of a world so centered on dreams and visions that he sometimes has a hard time distinguishing whether his experiences are real or not. I believe that our world has something to learn from this mindset. When I have a dream, I am often cautioned to find a more practical version of it or am told to throw it out entirely. I’ve never understood why we are encouraged to “settle,” especially in a country full of people who came here searching for something better than they had before: shouldn’t we be listening to that cheesy phrase that’s been floating around since we before we can remember—shoot for the moon, and if you don’t make it you’ll land among the stars? (Or something like that...) Black Elk’s world is not like that, at least I don’t think it is. He listens to his dreams so completely that they shape all of his future actions and he holds great stock in their power. While I was reading through Black Elks’ vision (specifically “The Great Vision” chapter), I kept comparing it to the leadership vision we were supposed to have thought about for P4, and I tried to pinpoint a few things that I thought were the essential ingredients for his leadership vision.
1. Outside powers. Black Elk receives the aid of many things throughout his vision which show that he cannot go through with it alone. He has the advice of the Six Grandfathers, for example, and is given the powers associated with the various objects like the bow and arrow. The section in this chapter about the war is a particularly vivid example of the power these objects have on conquering problems. When Black Elk transfigures into rain, for example, he is able to defeat a great force: “it was drouth [sic] that [he] had killed with the powers that the Six Grandfathers gave [him]...” (viii) (I’m assuming that means drought?) I thought the battle section was a little graphic and out of character until I realized what he was vanquishing: drought, a force we are not able to defeat. I think Black Elk’s reliance on these powers can be taken to illustrate the importance of help, in whatever form, when we are trying to lead or tackle problems.


Black Elk was able to use the power of the rain cloud to tackle a great problem: drought.





2. To know his future. Black Elk also is able to gain some perspective in a way that we do not have the privilege to hear by speaking to his future self, the man who as he said he knew, “was myself with all the years that would be mine at last.” (vii) While we are not able to receive advice from our future selves as Black Elk did and learn that everything is going to turn out alright, we can achieve similar results with confidence and a mind centered on our goals and the type of people we want to be. Just as we were given the opportunity to do with our leadership visions, we should constantly be thinking about where we’re going in life (not forgetting to enjoy the present moment too of course!) and look forward to what the future brings. Black Elk was able to achieve his vision through the wisdom of his future self and the knowledge that he was going to become a good person. We can achieve our visions through a similar understanding, with foresight and faith in ourselves.

Ugh I could not find the picture I wanted, but this sort of gets it across. We should keep in mind our "future" self after the actions we take.

http://www.speedysigns.com/images/decals/jpg/H/406/439.jpg


While I thought a lot about speciesism and how different cultures can be as I read through this selection of Black Elk Speaks, what jumped out to me the most was a reminder of our leadership vision. We weren’t able to discover our leadership vision in the same, grand way Black Elk did, but there are still many lessons we can learn from his experience.





Monday, March 22, 2010

P4

**Any suggestions for cutting this monster down a bit would be a big help. Sorry this got so long!

Living in Character

Would you have been surprised if my leadership vision wasn’t about respect for animals? So just a warning, don’t get up out of your chair trying to find that scratchy, familiar sound you hear as you’re reading this. That’s not a broken record...just me. I’ve written a lot about respect for animals, but I’m still not sure what I’m going to do to help. Whether I’m studying them to provide the “evidence” some people need to more easily respect animals or to find ways to help them, working for a non-profit, or trying to effect change through the legal process, I know that there is one thing I will always need: a strong character.

***

When I first decided that I was going to write about character, theater popped into my mind. “No, Katherine,” I kept reminding myself, “Not that kind of character, but character. You know...developing yourself? Becoming the person you think you need to be...? Ring any bells?” But the only bells that were sounding were The Bells of St. Mary’s, and that’s when I realized—acting and finding your character on the stage (or on camera) is exactly like finding it in the real world! It wasn’t until The Crucible that I discovered what acting in character really was. Before that, I just went through the motions—Ok, so Helena is supposed to be love struck (as always) at this point, so I guess I’ll make my voice sound like...this! It got the job done, but it wasn’t what I really wanted. When I played Elizabeth Proctor, however, I really absorbed myself in her story, trying to understand her suffering, the family’s dynamics, her temperament. After I internalized all that and got on stage, I changed my actions to match what she would have done. I began thinking like her. And when I had an audience, Elizabeth came out to an even fuller degree. I had found (somewhat) what it was like to act in character and embody another life so completely. This parallels quite nicely to living life in character. Sure, I can just go through the motions and make decisions from day to day without a real guiding force. But wouldn’t it be better to have a strong character, one which would direct and determine my every action, one which would allow me to live my life in a positive and helpful way? And if I ever have people looking up to me or watching me for guidance—an audience—my character could come out even stronger. Finding this character, wherever she is, is what I need to do to become a leader. I want to be someone that others look toward and respect, someone that people want to impress, and a person who inspires others to action by my example. Unlike acting, however, this character cannot be found on stage or in a script: I need to find the best within myself.

When I acted in character, I was happy when my character was happy and sad when she was sad. (In My Fair Lady)

That cheesiness aside, I’m going to look at some of the other “characters” in my life—my cousin; my godmother, Frannie; and Jane Goodall—as examples that will help shape my character. Like Siddhartha, I’m one of those people who doesn’t like to acknowledge that I can be influenced, but I cannot deny the impact of these (and other) influences that have helped develop my character.

I used to think that rationality and conviction were what created change and made good leaders but looking back on how I handle my cousin—let’s call him the Devil—has shown me that a strong character must be in place before anything else can work. Like David Letterman and Sarah Palin, the Devil and I have never gotten along. It’s quite monumental. I think he’s spoiled, rude, sexist, bossy, demanding...the list unfortunately goes on and on. I feel bad that I think this way, but I just can’t get around it. At the beginning of every few weeks that I’d spend with the Devil at my Aunt’s house near Lake Michigan, I’d try to get along with him. But his treatment of my aunt’s five cats and one very spoiled Labrador was the straw that broke this camel’s back. He tricked them, yelled at them, chased them around her property, and treated them roughly. And I, in turn, got in his face and yelled at him about it: “You can’t do that!” I’d scream. “Don’t you ever treat animals like that again!” It was a routine repeated like clockwork—and almost hourly at that. I thought that if he’d only listen to me, he’d realize what he was doing was wrong and stop. But of course he never did. Who would want to listen to someone screaming in their face? Whether my sister was just trying to have someone to play with over the break or if she was actually giving the Devil a chance, she had the right idea when she treated him like a friend. I should have tried harder to be friends with him, and, if I had, I may have been able to make some changes in the way he thought about animals. The few times I treated him nicely, he became softer and was more likely to listen. After all, I was older, he was an only child and lived in a sparsely populated area of Michigan—he probably just wanted some attention. Looking back on my summer stints with the Devil, I’ve realized that just having strong ideas—and even standing up to them—is not all it takes to lead. I needed to be someone the Devil respected and even looked up to, his friend but also his role model. And he needed to be influenced by my character, not my words.

I thought this approach would work for the Devil: it didn't.

http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OQJOqSI4X4c/SoYVACEzUfI/AAAAAAAAKsI/eGP6_gdLcrs/s1600-h/yelling.jpg

As opposed to the Devil, my godmother, Frannie, is a saint. For two lovely weeks every summer, I live in her home in a suburb outside Detroit, acting like a kid with my sister, her son, and her triplet daughters. While I don’t spend very much time with Frannie, I am still able to learn from her positive example and follow her lead. Frannie is incredibly nurturing and sweet and instills in her children a sense of kindness to all people. When I’m around her family, I find myself smiling at everyone and making pleasant conversation with people I don’t know more often—all things that Frannie and her husband, Gary, do with ease. Because I respect Frannie so much, her very example tempers my actions: I could never do or say anything wrong in her presence. Frannie is also a very real person, funny and easy to have a nice conversation with. By the strength of her character, she is able to lead and influence others in a simple and effortless way. As a leader, I need to possess these traits—kindness, respect for others, and approachability—in order to inspire those I am working with and create a positive environment. If I am a person that others can admire or even just enjoy spending time with, then I may be able to influence people’s actions just by my example, as Frannie does for me.

Although I’ve never had the privilege of meeting Jane Goodall, I am still very influenced by her character and her role as a global leader. In many ways I identify with her, and I feel that if I were to lead, it should be like she does. When she first came to Gombe and began working in the field, she did it her way, naming the chimpanzees, acknowledging their personalities and turning the scientific community on its head as a byproduct. She has continued to stand up for herself, her ideals and for others, protecting chimpanzees in the wild, championing their rights in captivity, and promoting peace and conservation through her Roots and Shoots program. She has an incredible inner strength, and the way she sticks to her moral convictions has created a force that would be hard to try to overcome or cross. As a leader I would need to possess the self-assuredness and fighting spirit that Jane Goodall has.

Jane Goodall's strength and perseverance are something to emulate.

http://images.ted.com/images/ted/1433_253x190.jpg

A combination of these traits is how I see myself as a leader for animal protection in the future. Animal ethics is a very hard topic to tackle in that its moral base is not as established as in other issues. For most of the people in the United States, for example, it is perfectly acceptable to wear leather—fashionable even—natural to tuck in your napkin for a big steak dinner (delicious!), and morally obligatory to perform biomedical experiments on the great apes. Many people don’t question their actions toward animals due to Descartes’ lingering assertion that animals are machines or are at least believe they are not as functional as we are. In short, there is a lot that needs to change even in people’s mindsets in order to effect workable and realistic change in the way we treat animals. Leading like Frannie is ideal for gaining people’s support and inspiring them to change, while Jane Goodall’s eternal persistence is essential for fighting an issue that will probably never truly go away. It is through developing this multi-faceted character that I hope to begin making a difference.

***

So what? I know how I want to lead, but what am I actually going to do? What a good question! Can I get back to you? It’s very hard to know how to make “real-world” difference when I haven’t really lived in it all that long, but I think my college years will serve as the formative ones which teach me how to lead, assert myself, and “play nicely with others” in preparation for the rest of my life.

In World Lit I’ve already begun to learn how to lead in ways that are different from what I’ve been used to. In an obvious way, we lead our discussions and through the process learn the importance of listening to other’s opinions and questioning what we are given to study. In class I’ve been exposed to some very controversial issues, ones which are hard to handle and have been inspired to take personal action and tell others outside of the class what I have seen and what should be done. In this way I have been encouraged to question the world, learn from my peers, and make tough moral decisions. One way in which the class discourages leadership, however, is the amount of DB’s. I don’t think I’m revealing any class secrets when I say we’ve become lazy trying to finish twice weekly DB’s, and as a result we suffer by a community which is unlikely to take our work to the next level and challenge ourselves.

That being said, let me take this opportunity to challenge myself over the next four (or maybe five) years with a list of manageable college goals.

  1. Become involved with the CEC (Campus Environmental Center). In trying to protect animals, I think it is also very important to help the environment which is not only our habitat but everyone else’s. Maysie sent me a link to apply for a CEC officer position which I definitely think would be valuable to complete. The organization has so many things to become involved in: I am particularly interested in the Gardening, Students for a Sustainable Campus, Outreach and Recycling committees. Now that the Green Fund has passed, I can also get involved in environmental projects.
  2. Volunteer at an animal shelter. Now that the Plan II Perspectives class and my BDP seminar are over for the semester, my Wednesdays are much more open than they were before. I think I should take that time to begin volunteering, which will enable me to work with animals and build relationships with people who work for them. (Plus it would also be a lot of fun!)
  3. Get an internship at a non-profit organization. The BDP program requires that I have a “connecting experience” (either an internship or research), but I believe this is an essential experience regardless. Working at a non-profit for animals would allow me to learn how the organizations are run and what a career working for one would involve.
  4. Join P2SA and work to create animal-related service opportunities. I hope to run for a P2SA position this spring (with Alice, actually), and I hope that I would be able to use my influence there to create and run animal-related programs for the Plan II community. Perhaps I could organize a trip to a shelter, start a can drive, or even get a showing of Earthlings or a similar movie in the Joynes Reading Room!
  5. Research primates with a professor. I spoke to a professor last semester about studying some of her primates, and she said that if I took her methods class in the fall I would be able to study them. While I wouldn’t want to do lab research in the future, this would enable me to actually study primates and see what life as a researcher entails.
  6. Work on building my relationships with others. This final goal is at times the hardest but is the most necessary. While I can be shy, college has really opened me up to other people. As a leader it is so important to be able to speak to and work well with others.

I don't know yet what's in store after graduation, but I hope I will be able to use what I've learned in college to make a difference.

http://etribute.lib.utexas.edu/media/ut/images/large/hook%27em-graduation.jpg

Once I graduate, I may still be at a complete loss as to what I concretely want to do. That’s the scary part! But what’s exciting is what I may be able to do with myself. So, in the spirit of those lists we made when we were kids that had those cute and crazy aspirations, I can make some stretch goals to look toward in the coming years which will help guide my future actions. I hope to...

1. Help pass a bill in Congress supporting animal rights.

2. Become a major executive at a non-profit. (Or maybe even start one!)

3. Hold hands with one of the residents at a chimpanzee orphanage in Africa.

4. Fight a case about animal rights to the Supreme Court—and win!

5. And shake Jane Goodall’s hand (just for fun!)

My goodness what a mouthful! (I cut this down from over 2,500 words!) Obviously, there’s a lot to be said about leadership and the role it will play in my future. All I know is that it will take a life lived in character—a character poised to protect animals, happy to lead and deal with others, and ready to take on any task.


Word count: 2,435

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Alice and Diversity




If anyone wished to take a crash course in diversity and responding to people different than themselves, Wonderland would be the place to start. Imagine Alice, a seven year old girl who has just fallen down a rabbit hole, encountering strange creatures she’s never seen before, animals that can talk and rules that are completely foreign. She clearly has a lot she needs to do in order to learn about the new people and creatures she’s encountering and how to deal with people and situations different from what she’s used to.

The world Alice encounters in Wonderland is unlike anything she--or any of us--would be used to.



Alice initially has difficulty responding to the creatures she’s met in Wonderland. The classic example is when she meets the mouse in the pool of tears. While people who respond well to diversity would take into account the sensitivities of certain people and be careful not to offend them, Alice continually talks about cats to the mouse, who is understandably very afraid of them. Alice is not rude but insensitive and not understanding. She even tries to convince the mouse that he would like her cat, which is a naïve but insensitive thing to say. If you were a mouse who had been nearly traumatized by the mentioning of a cat, would you still want to hear, “’ And yet I wish I could show you our cat Dinah. I think you’d take a fancy to cats, if you could only see her” (Wonderland, 26)? Alice continues to make faux pas throughout her adventures in Wonderland, insulting numerous creatures and making mistakes that we can hardly blame her for. Gradually, however, Alice’s responses to the bizarre situations she encounters beyond the looking glass become less awkward and she makes fewer mistakes. She begins to treat the animals and people of wonderland like we would expect her to treat her friends and acquaintances back home, caring for the white king and the white knight and responding to situations with careful attention to what the consequences of her speech will be. When Alice hears the gnat in her ear for example on the train, she treats her words with caution: “’What kind of insect?’ Alice inquired, a little anxiously. What she really wanted to know was, whether it could sting or not, but she thought this wouldn’t be quite a civil question to ask.” (Looking Glass, 172) By this point, Alice has learned to carefully weigh the impact her speech will have on others. While she is concerned for her safety, she knows that inquiring about the intentions of the insect would be a rude thing to do, and she refrains from asking. The Alice who had first arrived in Wonderland probably wouldn’t have been as concerned about the feelings of the insect: in fact, she probably wouldn’t have taken them into account, just as she hadn’t thought about what would and wouldn’t be alright to discuss with the mouse in the pool of tears. Alice’s response to diversity is appropriate and natural. We cannot expect her to immediately be able to understand—or even feel comfortable with—the creatures in Wonderland because they are so very different from what she is used to. But Alice is able to react appropriately to the creatures in time and learns to follow the rather nonsensical proceedings in the world of Wonderland.

This picture was tagged as "happy diverse young aduct college people." I guess that works for describing our college population!

http://www.flickr.com/photos/chrisfutcher/4189193023/

Like Alice, we have all been put into situations where there are many different types of people, and at times we don’t know how to react. College is a perfect example. There are so many different types of people here. People with different interests, different opinions, backgrounds, religions....the list can go on and on. I’m sure we are all learning to adjust to the types of people we meet here. And I think looking to Alice as an example is a good start. Alice shows us that it’s ok to make mistakes. She hurts feelings at times and even gets herself into trouble, but she comes out better for it in the end and learns from her mistakes. Similarly, we are going to make mistakes when we try to respond to people differently than ourselves. I know that I can learn from Alice’s example by trying to talk in the first place! Whenever I encounter new people I tend to stay quiet. I don’t really know how they would want me to respond, I guess. By looking at Alice’s example, I should begin to see that it is better to strike up a conversation even if it is difficult. And in the long run, I will be able to learn so much more from people that I am not used to than people who I am very similar to. Just look at our class and my wonderful group of friends! We are all so different, but we get along so well. I remember the first few days of class when we awkwardly sat around and attempted to strike up conversation. I remember having a very hard time finding something to say and thinking that many of us had nothing in common. I have come so far, however, in getting to know everyone by being able to spend time and talk to every one of you. My journey into Wonderland has only begun, but I am now excited to encounter people that have something entirely different to show me.

Monday, March 8, 2010

Siddhartha 3

As I’ve said before and in class, I’m not sure that Siddhartha did enough. Sure, I think he got himself figured out and achieved a state any of us would—and probably do—envy. But did he go far enough? Wouldn’t the “ultimate end” (as we said at the Mad Hatter’s Tea Party this past Saturday) have been to transform not only his life but “lives for the benefit of society” as we are urged to do? Following the understanding he gained at the river, he treated everyone with kindness, he moved people—not only across the river but in ways which left them with a greater understanding like his. He had become, in a small and ironic way, a teacher, showing by positive example one beautiful way to live. But the bottom line for me is that he should have left the river at some point and entered the “real world” he left behind once again. Not as a motivational speaker by any means, or even as a prophet, but as someone who could make a meaningful and positive difference in people’s lives, simply by living the life he has found for himself. He could have brought the lesson of the not-so-failed business venture to other business men, taught the people what it truly means to love by retelling the story of his son. After all, if he is unable to “distinguish the individual voices in the multitude [of the river,” because “all the voices belonged together,” “all was one, and everything was intertwined and connected, entangled together a thousand times over,” (Hesse 127) why was he distinctly separated from the rest of the masses? Why is Vasudeva’s final journey into the forest, where he is leaving all of humanity behind, a triumphant example of “entering the unity”? If the rest of humanity is so misguided that the ultimate path is to leave them completely behind, then why isn’t someone going to these people and trying to show them a better way?
It's kind of funny, but I've never been a big fan of hermits. I always wanted to say, "Get out there and do something please!" It's probably just a difference in opinions, but I felt that about Siddhartha somewhat.

Had Siddhartha been in our class, if he were sitting in his dorm room right now reading through the P4 instructions and trying to come up with something to say or do, I think he would have looked up from the instructions feeling completely ready to make a difference, realizing how qualified he is to lead others. We are told to “accept ambiguity and multiplicity at first,” (P4 instructions) something which Siddhartha did in an unconventional way. At the beginning of his journey, he really only saw one appropriate and complete way of life and became a samsara. Gradually, however, he realized that he wanted to enter the real world and opened his eyes to a different way of life. Only after he experienced such a radical spectrum of experiences and found Vasudeva at the river, did he come to feel completely enlightened. He understood that a multiplicity of experiences exists in the world, and we must attempt to either experience or at least acknowledge as many different ways of life as possible. In this way, Siddhartha had composed himself, as we are being asked to do. Following the Oxford English dictionary definition of “compose,” he had put together (parts or elements)” of himself and of his life’s experiences “so as to make up a whole.” (P4 instructions) Siddhartha felt whole, but I think he should have realized a certain emptiness by not being connected to others apart from his mystical understanding of unity.
Siddhartha would certainly be a great Plan II student as well. He would love experiential learning as he practices it himself to a staggering degree: he starves himself to attempt to escape the limitations of physical needs, experiences the world of the “child-like people” very completely, and lives a simple life as a ferryman. His story, like the experiences of so many college students, is of an attempt to find himself. While Siddhartha wasn’t enrolled in Enlightenment University, his ultimate outcome is very similar to achieving the goals of the university and of our class. While I wasn’t sure of Siddhartha’s outright leadership skills, he exhibits the other “six traditional core values of U.T.”: “individual opportunity; discovery; learning; freedom; responsibility.” (Course goals) I don’t think I need to go into these traits as they are exhibited by Siddhartha in very much detail, but if you think about each of these traits individually, Siddhartha really has focused on achieving many of these characteristics. We are also urged “to know that which is greater than the ego.” (Course goals) One of the goals of the samanas was to release themselves from the self and go outside of it.

We should be encouraged to understand that what we learn outside of our college textbooks during our time here is probably much more important.



One of the notes I made in my book as I was reading was in regards to Siddhartha’s age. I found it interesting at first that Siddhartha was growing old throughout his journey and wrote, “Is this still a coming of age story?” I think that it is even more important that Siddhartha’s journey, as much as it resembles our college quests, is about someone who realizes so much at an older age. While we are attempting to understand ourselves at relatively young ages, we should understand that enlightenment can happen at any time.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Siddhartha 2

When I finished Siddhartha I got into that contemplative state the book sort of forces you into. I felt that I had to think about things seriously—meditate even—and set everything straight. But I wasn’t able to focus. Like the early Siddhartha, I didn’t want to attribute my new (and fleeting) state of mind to anyone or anybody else. I stubbornly convinced myself that this book couldn’t change me, that I knew how to live and understood Siddhartha’s mindset better than even he did. That I would have come to a different conclusion.
In a typical, Plan II way (I’m sorry, but I think it’s true.), I generally think I’ve got most—if not everything—right. If I’m not enlightened, I am at least on the pathway to figure it out. I’ll rationalize that at least I know what I want to fix about myself: I just need to be a little more out there, a little more open, a little more patient with people I don’t agree with, and I’m set. I’m exaggerating...but not really. I think what I’ve learned through this is that none of us are ever going to get it right. There is no “right!” We can search all we want for the true path, but we’ll “never stop searching.” (Hesse 130) I would argue that there’s a checklist that we all need to fulfill in order to get it “right”—common courtesy, respect, compassion, self-worth, and definitely love being some elements—but I don’t see how you could ever justify one, absolutely correct way of approaching these foundational tenets.
Siddhartha shows that there are many different lifestyles that work.
Did you notice that in many ways Siddhartha’s story was a typical one? I realized that as I was reading through the second half: Siddhartha had not escaped Samsara at all. He abandons home to follow a path which is completely different, in a search to find himself. Later, to what would surely be the horror of his past self, he relapses into the norm, succumbing to greed and temptation—losing everything he thought he knew above everyone else. He realizes his mistakes and comes to a new, greater realization with the wisdom of his past experiences. Isn’t this not the experience most of us will have? It’s commonly held that most people try to break away from their parents and live completely differently just as Siddhartha has done. The young Siddhartha is the extreme version of a college student, seeking to find ourselves (or in his case abandon himself) and thinking that we understand the world better than we did before and much more clearly than adults—wondering why no one else can see the world like we (individually) can. Then reality kicks in. As hard as we try to fight it, the mythical understanding of the world we’ve achieved during college gets hit, and we begin to live just like everyone else. At some point, usually a long time later, we’ll realize we’ve been trapped and try to break free once again. I thought it was very interesting that despite everything Siddhartha has gone through, he is no different than all the other “childlike people.” He has only lived a life, just like everyone else, which differs solely in the fact that it’s his. When “self” is the only true entity he has, why is the ascetics’ goal to try hard to get rid of it?


Is Siddartha's story in part just one from the mould of human experience?





The example that best supports Siddhartha’s total immersion in the cycle of Samsara is his son. As much as he had become enlightened and found a way of life which is very easy to admire and respect, his son could not see life the same way. He ran away from his father just as Siddhartha did his, leaving for the city—a radically different way of life than the life of the ferrymen and one which Siddhartha rejected, disgusted by what it meant. Siddhartha at first, “could not heed his friends advice; he couldn’t give up the boy.” (Hesse 113) He tolerated the behavior of this childlike person when his past self would have looked down on him in contempt, and most importantly of all he loved him. I think Siddhartha’s son represents in two ideas: his past and rejection of his past. The young Siddhartha is a reminder of what Siddhartha has come from: when Siddhartha saw his son’s face for the first time, it “oddly reminded him of something he had forgotten.” (Hesse 105) Siddhartha had grown up in a providing, extravagant home as well to caring, perhaps indulgent parents. He was once like his son, arrogant and too proud to acknowledge the voice of authority. And he likewise made a choice about what his life was going to be. While his son chose one path, Siddhartha ultimately came to a completely different one. We don’t know whether the son will change—perhaps he will come to be very much like his father, perhaps he won’t. The important point is that the answer to that question ultimately doesn’t matter. The son’s life is just as legitimate—just as substantial—as Siddhartha’s or yours or mine.

How does Siddhartha's son play into his journey? Are they similar or entirely different?



(This brings me to another minor point which I thought was interesting but couldn’t quite fit in. Would Siddhartha have made his journey if he didn’t have the luxury of being a Brahmin, the highest caste? Siddhartha was able to alter his life willingly, unlike his son who “had to leave all this [life of riches and the city] behind against his will.” (Hesse 110) Not everyone has a similar opportunity. Siddhartha could look on fasting as a religious high, not as starvation which to some is a daily occurrence. I’m not saying that only the “highest” can make enlightened journeys as Siddhartha did, but I think his position afforded him luxuries which many people can’t have which undeniably altered his path. I also don’t mean to knock the story of Siddhartha. I thought it was very interesting and truly enlightening, and I think it’s very important that we’re all able to gain so much meaning from it.)