My mother-in-law died on May 23rd. I can't bring myself to use a euphemism--in fact, I've found that everyone who reads or hears that word from me handles it just fine. There's no need to sugar-coat the end, and certainly not for someone as strong as Lula Belle Russo.
I've written a newspaper column about her struggle with the after-effects of treatment for mouth cancer (http://www.sptimes.com/2007/11/27/50plus/Savoring_life_s_most_.shtml). I started a new one about her continuing struggles with the medical bureacracy (including sometimes uncaring and even cruel treatment), focusing on the one doctor who volunteered words that formed themselves into a sort of life-raft: "I will take care of you." That's what Belle, as she was known, needed--someone to take responsibility for her care. But she died in a few weeks after being diagnosed with cancer for the third time, too soon for me to finish the column so that she could read it.
My main purpose here is to reflect on what we really can achieve through an honorable life. Certainly not ultimate happiness and contentment: Belle--an intellectually inquisitive person--at times felt unfulfilled by her life. To me, this was a sign that she really was living an examined life. Philosophy, once engaged in, can make one unhappy, I'm afraid. But before, during, and after her funeral, the outpouring of support from so many people made me certain that she was near the central hub of a wheel whose spokes radiated out to hundreds of people. That wheel still turns, with her memory keeping the place that her physical presence once did.
I tend not to use the word "honor" as a verb. A business woman who is member of my local chamber of commerce (as I am) applies the word quite sensibly in this latter way--she honors some particular characteristic in people. I, on the other hand, prefer its use as a strong noun. Honor is something that one maintains, increases, or decreases. If one is honorable, then in general one should seek to maintain or increase the dignity of others (unless those others are unethical, in which case one might seek to decrease their dignity in a sense). Belle by her very nature was honorable, using an ethic of care toward friends and family, and leavening her actions with a dose of self-deprecating humor.
I don't have much use for death. But I do try to recall the myths of the Greek gods, how they were jealous of mortals--unlike those who could die and thus display true bravery (and other virtues), the gods were reduced often to silly bickering. The final punctuation mark that death adds to our human sentences forces us to consider whether we were correct in calling ourselves honorable.
It is some comfort to me, at least, that Belle's life will remain a model of honor.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Monday, April 13, 2009
The Myth of Self-Esteem
Just yesterday, a well-meaning public school teacher remarked that a student's difficulties were traceable to a lack of self-esteem. The underlying hypothesis here--that low self-esteem leads to poor behavior and high self-esteem leads to "good" behavior--is just that: a hypothesis. And it is one that has been tested by psychologists such as Roy Baumeister and many others. The findings seem unequivocable to me: behavioral, athletic, or academic excellence is not caused by raising someone's self-esteem. In fact, trying to raise self-esteem directly can lead to worsening performance, a result that is in keeping with a great deal of anecdotal evidence, at least in my daily life.
Baumeister, among others, has found that those who habitually mess up--bullies and criminals, for example--don't suffer from low self-esteem. Rather, they may display an especially inflated, self-regarding form, usually referred to as narcissism. Insofar as students have been encouraged to become raging narcissists, they have been cheated. They are walking on a path that leads to progressively weaker behavior.
Effective training or teaching--as has been known for a few thousand years--should focus on the result, the concrete behavior or accomplishment. Complimenting for objective accomplishment can increase future excellence. However, we live in the 21st century, not some past in which children or apprentices could be treated like trash until they proved themselves. Though we need not constantly compliment the inner person just for being a person, we should be reluctant to hand out abuse under the guise of toughing up students.
Compliment the behavior, not the person or personality. Refrain from negative reinforcement when it insults human dignity. But remember that people--particularly children and teenagers--are a lot more resilient than we often acknowledge in these paranoid times. Some struggle is essential.
Baumeister, among others, has found that those who habitually mess up--bullies and criminals, for example--don't suffer from low self-esteem. Rather, they may display an especially inflated, self-regarding form, usually referred to as narcissism. Insofar as students have been encouraged to become raging narcissists, they have been cheated. They are walking on a path that leads to progressively weaker behavior.
Effective training or teaching--as has been known for a few thousand years--should focus on the result, the concrete behavior or accomplishment. Complimenting for objective accomplishment can increase future excellence. However, we live in the 21st century, not some past in which children or apprentices could be treated like trash until they proved themselves. Though we need not constantly compliment the inner person just for being a person, we should be reluctant to hand out abuse under the guise of toughing up students.
Compliment the behavior, not the person or personality. Refrain from negative reinforcement when it insults human dignity. But remember that people--particularly children and teenagers--are a lot more resilient than we often acknowledge in these paranoid times. Some struggle is essential.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
The Power of Straight Up Apology
A straight up apology is one in which someone does not say, "I apologize if anyone was offended." One apologizes for actions or words simplicter. If done quickly, then, as suggested by authors down through the centuries--including the author of the Hagakure, the book that describes how the samurai ought to act--the offense may seem to vanish. The listeners or readers now have an obligation to accept the apology, or at least seriously consider doing so.
If one waits too long (and this is a necessarily elastic concept of "too long), then the straight up apology may not help at all. We use a complex code of timing and appropriate content.
All this is brought to mind by a written apology offered by an officer of a civic organization I belong to. By writing the apology, he really is committed to its promulgation. The offense may not really involve any ethical or legal matters--thus, he may not have committed an offense at all. But rather than draw out the arguments, he just sent an apology to all the members. I thought that was well done.
If one waits too long (and this is a necessarily elastic concept of "too long), then the straight up apology may not help at all. We use a complex code of timing and appropriate content.
All this is brought to mind by a written apology offered by an officer of a civic organization I belong to. By writing the apology, he really is committed to its promulgation. The offense may not really involve any ethical or legal matters--thus, he may not have committed an offense at all. But rather than draw out the arguments, he just sent an apology to all the members. I thought that was well done.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Virtual Virtue
Election Day in the United States: for once, columnists and pundits are correct in reporting an undercurrent of excitement, although that may be too weak of a word--it's an overcurrent. We have survived months of nasty conspiracy-thinking mental viruses unleashed upon friends and foes alike. The only despair I have felt about the political process this year has been the awful fearfulness some of my friends now display. As Barry Glassner wrote some time ago in The Culture of Fear, we too often are afraid of things that we should not be, and are distracted entirely from those things that, though difficult and nearly intractable, require our vigilance.
The actual topic today is relevant to our elections, since it concerns the very meaning of political. For the Romans and Greeks (to generalize a bit), one's public character was everything--the idea of a separate "private" one would have made little since. The downside of such a view is its sanctioning of private horribleness--one could be a monster at home, as long as one's actions never leaked out to the public. But the strength of this view is its focus on actions for which one is accountable. Ones actions can be tallied up and tracked.
For much of recorded history, humans lived in small groupings: villages or towns where many people knew your business. Highly mobile, industrialized societies are quite recent, but supposedly such mobility has led to social disconnection and a general loss of community. I suggest that the Web and other recent developments are returning us to a permanent era of accountability, though often of the phantom sort (that is, people can know a great deal about your supposed actions, though the information may be erroneous). We will need to care about--and for--our reputations from a much earlier age. No more reinventing ourselves in high school or college or our second or third jobs. Such a change is big, but we can handle it by aiming for consistency in our actions across platforms, communities, and virtual environments.
Critics of the Internet and game technology worry that the line between reality and fantasy is being blurred. If we follow out the reasoning, however, we might conclude that one should start to act as though a virtual environment, at least when it is not an obvious game or role-playing situation, is an authentic political arena that affects our reputations, and therefore the constitution of our characters.
The actual topic today is relevant to our elections, since it concerns the very meaning of political. For the Romans and Greeks (to generalize a bit), one's public character was everything--the idea of a separate "private" one would have made little since. The downside of such a view is its sanctioning of private horribleness--one could be a monster at home, as long as one's actions never leaked out to the public. But the strength of this view is its focus on actions for which one is accountable. Ones actions can be tallied up and tracked.
For much of recorded history, humans lived in small groupings: villages or towns where many people knew your business. Highly mobile, industrialized societies are quite recent, but supposedly such mobility has led to social disconnection and a general loss of community. I suggest that the Web and other recent developments are returning us to a permanent era of accountability, though often of the phantom sort (that is, people can know a great deal about your supposed actions, though the information may be erroneous). We will need to care about--and for--our reputations from a much earlier age. No more reinventing ourselves in high school or college or our second or third jobs. Such a change is big, but we can handle it by aiming for consistency in our actions across platforms, communities, and virtual environments.
Critics of the Internet and game technology worry that the line between reality and fantasy is being blurred. If we follow out the reasoning, however, we might conclude that one should start to act as though a virtual environment, at least when it is not an obvious game or role-playing situation, is an authentic political arena that affects our reputations, and therefore the constitution of our characters.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
At the FCTE Conference, Orlando, Florida
I'm a bit early to a conference, for once. Today (Thursday) the conference opens, but I must have caught the registration people at lunch--this is the middle of the "pre-conference," actually. So after walking around looking quite confused, I am sure, I have given in. While a crowd of seemingly two hundred troop into a ballroom for a pre-paid lunch, I'm sitting in the New American cuisine-style hotel cafe (this is a Renaissance--quite nice, but too rich for my blood right now. So I am staying at a much cheaper, somewhat down-at-the-heels conference hotel exactly four minutes away by Mapquest claim). Internet access is a steep $10 per day--fortunately, I seem to be riding on some kind person's open access WiFi.
(Score so far for those who expect bloggers to notate the minutae of the day: nice service, undrinkable espresso. I view the latter as nothing artsy or special, just real coffee. The server--Tracy, by the way, has maintained her cheer nicely. She even said that she would be "honored" to be mentioned in this blog--a nice choice of words, given the very name of this blog!)
I last presented at an FTCE conference when I taught in an inner-city high school. I have returned as a business owner, but one who still believes in the fundamental principles underlying my approach to creating a miniature culture of honor in the classroom, whether high school or college. Tomorrow, I'll be leading a workshop for high school teachers that provides concrete strategies that build the dignity of teachers and students. I have no doubt that we can improve the situation in schools so that teachers (and students) don't burn out.
My friends who still are teaching in Florida public schools--most of them veteran, award-winning teachers--are showing signs of complete exhaustion. Principles have had to make do with less and less money while suffering a barrage of new "intiatives." But these initiatives drain people, rather than inspire them.
When people outside the school system hear about bureacracy, they may imagine complex documentation. Sure, that's part of the burden. But what I found while working for the public school system went beyond complexity: the forms seemed cramped and out-of-date, with no uniformity. No one had the time to update procedures so that teachers and administrators struggle with a bizarre, ugly chimera of online and hard-copy forms. If you have known the (relative) satisifaction of completing a paperwork task cleanly and precisely, then invert that feeling and you will have a sense of the ugly, lumbering educational bureacracy that provides a mental environment at odds with any sense of professionalism, let alone beauty or quiet control.
(Score so far for those who expect bloggers to notate the minutae of the day: nice service, undrinkable espresso. I view the latter as nothing artsy or special, just real coffee. The server--Tracy, by the way, has maintained her cheer nicely. She even said that she would be "honored" to be mentioned in this blog--a nice choice of words, given the very name of this blog!)
I last presented at an FTCE conference when I taught in an inner-city high school. I have returned as a business owner, but one who still believes in the fundamental principles underlying my approach to creating a miniature culture of honor in the classroom, whether high school or college. Tomorrow, I'll be leading a workshop for high school teachers that provides concrete strategies that build the dignity of teachers and students. I have no doubt that we can improve the situation in schools so that teachers (and students) don't burn out.
My friends who still are teaching in Florida public schools--most of them veteran, award-winning teachers--are showing signs of complete exhaustion. Principles have had to make do with less and less money while suffering a barrage of new "intiatives." But these initiatives drain people, rather than inspire them.
When people outside the school system hear about bureacracy, they may imagine complex documentation. Sure, that's part of the burden. But what I found while working for the public school system went beyond complexity: the forms seemed cramped and out-of-date, with no uniformity. No one had the time to update procedures so that teachers and administrators struggle with a bizarre, ugly chimera of online and hard-copy forms. If you have known the (relative) satisifaction of completing a paperwork task cleanly and precisely, then invert that feeling and you will have a sense of the ugly, lumbering educational bureacracy that provides a mental environment at odds with any sense of professionalism, let alone beauty or quiet control.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Apologies that Work
Theodore Dalrymple's "False Apology Syndrome--I'm Sorry for Your Sins" (http://www.incharacter.org/article.php?article=119) often hits the right tone. He moves beyond the insincere-sounding "I'm sorry if you were insulted" and its ilk to the public apologies for past transgressions by long-dead people. So the Pope apologizes for the Crusades, and Tony Blair apologizes for the potato famine. Dalrymple claims that such pseudo-apologies actually have a corrosive effect on virtue. It increases pride without any real responsibility--virtue becomes a matter of loud proclamation, rather than painful self-examination.
He also suggests that shame--that often ignored emotion (no one is supposed to feel ashamed these days)--is an appropriate moral emotion for past transgressions, at least horrible ones. His article is consistent with others that place such emotions at the center of our moral lives.
Dalrymple is concerned with the effect of sham apologies on the giver and recipient. So how should we apologize? The guidelines should include the preservation of the recipient's dignity. For many transgressions of the daily variety, they should in some way preserve the giver's dignity, too. That is, by facing those to whom you are apologizing in a dignified (but not arrogant) manner, you actually are demonstrating respect. And such apologies transmit the indirect message that you will be good for something after the apology, including action to make things better.
He also suggests that shame--that often ignored emotion (no one is supposed to feel ashamed these days)--is an appropriate moral emotion for past transgressions, at least horrible ones. His article is consistent with others that place such emotions at the center of our moral lives.
Dalrymple is concerned with the effect of sham apologies on the giver and recipient. So how should we apologize? The guidelines should include the preservation of the recipient's dignity. For many transgressions of the daily variety, they should in some way preserve the giver's dignity, too. That is, by facing those to whom you are apologizing in a dignified (but not arrogant) manner, you actually are demonstrating respect. And such apologies transmit the indirect message that you will be good for something after the apology, including action to make things better.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
The Mountains Have Severed My Exo-Cortex
I write this from a vacation home (not mine) perched near the top of a mountain in Otto, North Carolina, a small, picturesque town near the westernmost tip of the state. The only internet connection available is a slow 28.8 dial-up, a circumstance that has rendered any work dependent on the Web relative misery (and yes, I do remember when such a modem speed seemed blazingly fast).
My main problem right now is work, not entertainment—the lack of bandwidth is an inconvenience. Still, I feel the nagging lack of access, as though part of my cortex—my exocortex, I suppose—has been cut off. I have sufficient internal resources so that I can function comfortably within my own skull. Surely, though, the day is not far off when many people will distribute more of their identities in fragments spread throughout the net, keeping records, files, and preferences in many places. Or rather, represent themselves as clouds of preferences, drawing in data only when and as needed.
I think that we may well be the last generation to insist that our personal libraries be housed in one room, one house, one hard drive, or one head. I like being able to house such a personal collection, but my likes and dislikes will not affect the shift to a different world. But to accept wide distribution of information and data does not mean that we should accept a loss of control. Psychologists developed the term locus of control, but we might use it in a less technical way to emphasize our need to maintain a sense that we can identify some place or location that represents what we fundamentally are.
I notice that this post is a bit fragmented.
My main problem right now is work, not entertainment—the lack of bandwidth is an inconvenience. Still, I feel the nagging lack of access, as though part of my cortex—my exocortex, I suppose—has been cut off. I have sufficient internal resources so that I can function comfortably within my own skull. Surely, though, the day is not far off when many people will distribute more of their identities in fragments spread throughout the net, keeping records, files, and preferences in many places. Or rather, represent themselves as clouds of preferences, drawing in data only when and as needed.
I think that we may well be the last generation to insist that our personal libraries be housed in one room, one house, one hard drive, or one head. I like being able to house such a personal collection, but my likes and dislikes will not affect the shift to a different world. But to accept wide distribution of information and data does not mean that we should accept a loss of control. Psychologists developed the term locus of control, but we might use it in a less technical way to emphasize our need to maintain a sense that we can identify some place or location that represents what we fundamentally are.
I notice that this post is a bit fragmented.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)