New expressions

As I read and listen to the news each week, new terms seem to crop up. In the past couple weeks, I’ve encountered:

• Toxic positivity
• Gender expansive
• Thermal equity (also heat equity)
• Sortation centers

Hmm. While I did hear or read these in context, none were exactly defined. (A definition for each can be found by Googling the expression.)

Languages expand and evolve. That’s a given. As the world changes, so must the words and phrases we use to describe it. And as the world’s rate of change increases, so does its vocabulary.

 I give myself credit for creating one, now common, term: digital citizenship.

By the end of the 1990s, those of us who worked with kids and technology recognized that an important part of “computer education” was teaching kids and teachers the ethical use of these amazing new resources. But I struggled with the idea that public schools would teach “ethics.” Wasn’t this the role of faith-based organizations and the family? Might I be teaching Christian values when my students included Muslims, Jews, atheists, and a whole raft (ark?) of Christian denominations and sects.

After giving this a great deal of thought, I came to the following conclusion in a very early magazine article I authored: 

In direct or indirect ways, children begin to learn ethical values from birth. And while families and the church are assigned the primary responsibility for a child’s ethical education, schools have traditionally had the societal charge to teach and reinforce some moral values, especially those directly related to citizenship and school behaviors. Most of the ethical issues that surround technology deal with societal and school behaviors and are an appropriate and necessary part of the school curriculum. Developing an Ethical Compass for Worlds of Learning, MultiMedia Schools, Nov/Dec 1998

How we use technology resources appropriately then, is based on if we are good citizens in the digital world. I did not use the term “digital citizenship”, but I feel I coined the concept.

When new terms and phrases go whizzing by me as I read editorials or listen to NPR and my frustration grows with keeping up with the current world’s vocab, I remember my part in exacerbating this rapid change. 

The value of historical fiction

What and how history is taught in public schools has become a topic of much controversy. “Critical race theory”, the 1619 Project, renaming schools and streets, and removing statues of Confederate soldiers have all become rallying points for conservatives lamenting the loss of traditional historical views and progressives rectifying racial injustices of the past.

So what does it matter? How does one’s view of the past shape one’s values, and therefore, one’s actions today? While many are asking what history we should teach, how many are asking what exactly does history teach?

The case for some core subjects is pretty easy to make: math, reading, and composition are all fundamental to both academic and occupational success. A good grounding in science and computer science is necessary for advancement in many fields. But history? When’s the last time you needed to know when the pyramids were built, the characteristics of the Ming Dynasty, or who won the Battle of Waterloo? And even if we could answer these questions, to what degree could we all agree on the accuracy of the answers?

Historians are cherry-pickers. A complete recounting of even a small event can never be told. Historians are human and all humans have biases either conscious or unconscious. This is why I argue that the term “historical fiction” is largely redundant.

Historical fiction writers not only acknowledge this reality, but leverage it to their advantage. They choose a perspective and create a world that becomes relatable because of that perspective. As a reader, I am placed in the past and view through the eyes of someone actually living it.

I have long been a fan of historical fiction. My favorite authors and titles* include:

• Mary Renault (Alexander the Great trilogy)
• James Michener (Centennial, The Source, and many others)
• Larry McMurtry (Lonesome Dove series - Westerns are a genre of historical fiction, right?)
• Edward Rutherford (London, New York, China)
• James Clavell (Shogun, Taipan)
• Herman Woulk (Winds of War, War and Remembrance)
• Alex Haley (Roots)
• William Styron, (Sophie’s Choice)
• Markus Zusak (Book Thief)
• Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai (The Mountains Sing) currently reading

Reading historical fiction, like reading nearly all fiction, helps the reader develop empathy. We learn that groups are composed of individuals and are, usually in some respect, sympathetic, not simply stereotypes. The horror of the Holocaust is more horrific as Sophie actually experiences it. Historical fiction writers, ironically, make history real.

History textbooks cannot tell all stories, yet all stories deserve to be told. Of both heroes and villains. 

* I admit my author’s list tend old, white, and male, and as does the perspective of their books. In my dotage, I am trying to expand my historical readings. 

Will I regret time spent solving jigsaw puzzles?

Nearly every day, I spend a few minutes doing an online jigsaw puzzle or two. Or play mahjong on my iPad. Or read click-bait “news” articles. It's how I kill the few spare minutes before the news comes on, before I need to start supper, or just procrastinating before doing something of greater import.

As I shuffle the puzzle pieces into place, I often wonder if I will come to regret these moments spent in such a mindless activity. “Ah, if I had only used that time to write something of possible value; researched a topic of importance; cleaned my refrigerator;  called a friend; swept the garage.” Once spent, time is never returned to us.

When asked if I am happy, I usually respond that I don’t think much about whether I am happy or not. I take to heart John Stuart Mill’s famous observation "Ask yourself whether you are happy and you cease to be so." Rather, I have always asked if I have been productive. Did I accomplish something? Did I make the community or myself a little better because of my activity? Have I learned something that makes me a better person?

The question then becomes “what exactly is a productive activity?” I view these as productive activities:

• Meaningful work on a job
• Volunteering
• Writing as a means of mental clarification
• Reading for increased knowledge and new perspectives
• Exercise and personal hygiene 
• Socializing
• Parenting
• Housekeeping, gardening, cooking

So why do I, like most others, steer off the productive path by doing jigsaw puzzles or reading junk fiction or watching crappy movies? Do we all just need breaks allowing us to cool our jets? If so, why do I feel guilty about it?