In the Void of Education – Part 4

This topic starts with In the Void of Education, Part 1 and follows Part 3.

My adopted son Bernard Masai, whom I met in 2007 when working at an orphanage in Nakuru, is now in his second year at Mount Kenya University where he is studying Community Health. His class is regularly involved in field work, hands-on assessment and intervention in the real-world issues of communicable disease and personal hygiene. He has shared a few of these stories with me, his more recent as follows:

Do people have facts and experiences on some encounters? And if they have, do they forget to practice or assume them? Those who assume, are they ready to learn and change for their own good? Do the knowledgeable ones teach less knowledgeable ones?

Kai I would like to share with you one of my first encounters while I was on field work for my university. [I]t has been a long and very encouraging one. I know very well that my profession grants me a sound, full mind to educate the public on various diseases.

Kai, you know that HIV/AIDS has no cure, [but I met] two women who are HIV/AIDS reactive (positive) [who] have been using Arithroviral drugs for two years now.

Last month here in Nakuru there [was] a big Crusade where thousands of Christians [from] all over the world did attend. The theme of the crusade was “God curing people having AIDS.” [P]eople using the ARV drugs abandoned them, claiming they will all [be] healed.

Kai I am not opposing Faith, but I cautioned the few and I taught them on how viruses works on our immune system. I proceeded teaching them on how the ARVs operate in people having HIV/AIDS disease … those using it should not abandon them as some were intending.

Some saw [the] sense in what I was saying [but] the rest ignored me. They were almost viewing me as a big demon. [I am] sorry to say, but two weeks down the line those who abandoned the drugs were bedridden and one died. [M]y view is if these people would have [accepted] the facts of science, [they] would not have died.

Some people are not willing to learn … but I would in my life stand a chance of educating those who are willing. It is not the matter of being against their Faith but this is reality. Having a wider knowledge on research is very [valuable]. I am not yet a professor but I am trying to access knowledge [from] all sources to avoid telling people short stories that will [cause] them to die.

It is my joy when people read and gets [these] facts. This will really change some people’s way of thinking.

By |2017-11-24T22:35:59-04:00September 13th, 2013|Critical Thinker, Humans & Technology, Out of Africa|0 Comments

In the Void of Education – Part 3

This topic begins with Part 1 and follows Part 2.

Mixed Vocabularies
At lunch on the second day of my Wilderness First Responder training I sat across the table from a class mate, a young man (I will call him Matt) who was sharing some of the challenges his brother faces in the Texas school system. In particular, he finds it very frustrating, as a history teacher, to teach both the Christian creation story and evolution / cosmology as competing theories for how the Earth, solar system, and universe were formed.

He is always walking a fine line in the respect that he wants to teach his students to be critical thinkers in the shadow of an administrative and parenting body which fear straying from a Christian foundation. He is a history teacher, not a theologian, as Matt made clear.

Matt took another bite of his lunch time carrot, shook his head, and asked how this kind of rationale could possibly continue in this modern world.

The woman to my right (I will call her Shelly) immediately offered, “The kids need to know both theories!”

I knew better, but could not help jumping in, “Are you also suggesting they teach the Navajo, Sioux, and Mayan creation stories? What about the creation stories of the ancient Greeks and Egyptians? I am all for that, as a broad cultural education is always a good foundation. But it seems our schools do not allow for this much focus on the mythos of the human species.”

She responded, “No. I am talking about the Biblical story and evolution. If you are going to teach evolution, you need to also teach what the Bible teaches us.”

“Science and creation stories are not competing–they are not even in the same category.”

“Sure they are. Both are based on history.”

Matt was chewing the last of his carrot, “Sure. History is stories and facts about people and places and events. Some of them are supported by records outside of the Bible.”

Nodding, I quickly added, “The Bible offers an account of people who likely did walk the Earth. But to say the Bible, or any creation story gives an accurate account of how the Earth was formed, or how life has evolved, is misleading, taking away from–.”

Shelly cut me off, “They are just theories!”

I hesitated, and decide a prop would be more effective than words. I picked up a book and then let it drop to the floor without saying anything. I looked at Shelly, then reached down, grabbed the book, and lifted it to the height of the table. I dropped it again. Reached down, grabbed the book, lifted and dropped it again. I did this four or five times more.

“Nine point eight meters per second per second. Every single time. Unless the hand of God interposes a miracle, or the total mass-density of the Earth spontaneously changes, this book will always fall to the floor at the exact same rate over the exact same period of time.” I paused. “And yet, gravity is just a theory.”

“What’s your point?” Shelly asked?

“All of science is based on theories. But in our English language, ‘theory’ has a negative connotation when in fact theory is an integral part of the scientific method and foundation to all we know about the universe around us. If a scientist is able to disprove what we know about gravity, and show with repeated accuracy that his or her revised theory is more accurate, then it will be adopted in place of the former. That’s science. Far more wrongs than rights. Even when a model is supported by repeat experiments across the scientific community, it can always be overturned by newer, more accurate models.”

“Do you believe in evolution?”

“No. Absolutely not. I don’t believe in any scientific theory. There is nothing to believe in, which was my original point. Science is not religion.”

Shelly responded, “But you have faith in the theories?”

“Not blind faith, no. I respect the process by which theories are reviewed and analyzed by the community of biologists, chemists, and physicists. But what is most important, I know that I can reach out to the community, either via the publications or directly to the individuals who have conducted the research, and ask for exacting explanation—”

“But the Bible provides explanation!”

I continued, “—explanation which can be reproduced by anyone who has access to the tools or a working knowledge of the math which provides foundation for the models.”

At this point I grew uncomfortable for the energy in around this table was escalating quickly. I looked at Shelly, back at my book, and said, “I’m sorry. I should not have jumped in. I really need to study. We simply cannot take this conversation to any meaningful place with the limited time remaining in our break.”

“Why?! Why doesn’t anyone want to talk about this?”

Matt looked at his hands, shaking his head.

I took another breath. “We need a common vocabulary, a shared understanding before we can even begin to have this conversation. That assumes we have a similar education. I don’t mean to be rude nor arrogant, but that is the truth.”

Shelly was visibly unsettled, as is often the case when personal beliefs are challenged. She pushed, “So, what, you think we came from monkeys?!”

Ugh. I hate it when people say that. It is not only completely wrong, but instantly demonstrates a total lack of education on the subject of evolution.

Shaking my head “No. Certainly not. We did not come from monkeys.” She was momentarily satisfied. I continued, “We are the product of divergent evolution from a common ancestor which is now extinct. Chimpanzees and Bonobos are both our cousins, each equally related to us and to our shared, deceased relatives.

“So where are they? What proof do we have?”

“Dead. Like dinosaurs, they died out as all species eventually do. Like we will some day in the not so distant future, on the cosmological scale. As for evidence, the body of knowledge and data is growing every year. More fossils, more tools, improved understanding of the climate at various times. In fact, we now believe our shared ancestors were more human than ape-like.”

“But there are so many gaps! So many missing pieces!”

“That is old data. In fact, since the human genome was sequenced along with tens of thousands of plant and animal species, we now see far fewer gaps in the evolutionary tree. Contrary to the data we had as little as twenty years ago, it appears evolution moves at a relatively slow pace, with momentary quantum leaps in which a great deal of progress is made.”

Shelly was cooling down a bit. So was I. We were entering a nearly normal conversation and I was sharing things she had clearly not heard before. She asked, “So, … so what does it mean, that we evolved from something?”

I grabbed a piece of paper and pen and drew a few figures to support my next statements. “Have you heard the statement that we share a certain percentage of our genetic code with other animals, like chimps or … even a grapefruit?”

She smiled, “A grapefruit?”

“Yes. Something like twenty five percent of our code is shared with a grapefruit.”

She nodded, “I heard that before.”

“It’s like a software library with various routines. They can be assembled in various orders to produce completely different applications. But underneath, a lot of it is the same.”

I paused.

“What’s crazy is that something like ninety eight percent of our code is disabled, literally turned off. It’s the stuff that we no longer need and so it simply doesn’t get activated any longer.”

“What do you mean? How do we know?”

“By capturing the messenger RNA, which only copies active genetic code for specific protein production, we can differentiate the total DNA code base from that used for a specific, functional expression. No need for the cells to copy all the code, right? –only the parts needed to make a liver or muscle or bone.”

[I have since read-up on the topic of “junk DNA” and learned that while 98% of the human genome is noncoding, there appears to be some biochemical function to much of it, perhaps as a regulatory agent, even if not to directly build functional cells. More at wikipedia.org/ and nature.com]

At this point, another of our classmates had sat down to the table. She was listening intently, absorbed in what was obviously an intense conversation.

I leaned forward and smiled, “Did you know that some humans are born with a tail?” She looked at me, Matt, and then Shelly, nodding.

Shelly responded, “What?!”

The new girl smiled and raised her hand slightly, “Um, I was one of those. I was born with a tail. They had to cut it off.”

I could not believe my luck, for it is quite rare depending on if it is just soft tissue or includes vertebrae. Since this conversation, I learned that all mammals have a tail in the early stage of embryonic development, measuring roughly one sixth the total embryo length. It is absorbed in normal development, in humans. The record, however, is for a human tail with five extra vertebrae at birth.

Shelly look perplexed, but intrigued, “I had never heard of that. So what does that mean?”

“That we have code which is old stuff, capable of generating tissue, digits, organs we no longer use or need. We carry with us our heritage, in our cells. It’s all there. And that is how we have more recently, more accurately compared ourselves to other animals, to learn what we share and what differs.”

I paused, took a bite of my bagel and sliced apple which I had nearly forgotten to eat.

“Look. There is so much more to this, so much we know about the world around us, and it is all out there, if you take the time to read and search. Or you can choose to believe that the dinosaur bones were placed in the earth by the devil, to confuse us, to trick us into believing in something other than the biblical creation story. If this were true, then every embryo tail is a trick too.”

Shelly wanted more. She dove back in, “But, but that doesn’t explain the origin of life, or how—how the universe formed.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“So how do you explain that? Where did the universe come from?”

“That is an entirely different topic.”

“No it’s not! That is evolution!”

I was a bit caught off-guard, surprised by her lack of understanding on the matter, “No. I promise you. It is not.”

“The planets, the stars, –the big bang is all about evolution!”

I took a deep breath, “Shelly. With all due respect. You are wrong. The theory of evolution is entirely about random mutations, survivability in a given environment, and subsequent reproduction of those living things most suited to the given conditions.”

Matt confirmed my statement.

Shelly was clearly upset, having her understanding undermined.

“But, but what do you call it then? I mean, that is what we were taught, that evolution was the history of everything.”

“I am sorry if that is what your school taught you. But the formation of the universe is studied through astronomy and cosmology, even geology applied to extraterrestrial bodies. Completely different sciences than molecular biology.”

She started to argue again. I cut her off, frustrated, “Just look it up. I promise. Look it up when you get home.”

The class activities resumed shortly thereafter. I was exhausted, emotionally drained. It is so challenging to have these kinds of conversations because they are heavily charged by belief systems, fear of having religious faith challenged, undermined.

The Definition of Science Lost
The point of this story is not to disprove god, or God, or Goddess at any level. Each person must make the choice as to their faith in something that cannot be proven.

The point is that our school system is failing to provide a proper foundation in the sciences, to even provide a proper understanding of what science is. We hear far, far more about how science and religion do battle in church, in the schools, even in the halls of Congress (which is terribly ironic given the reason this country was supposedly founded in the first place).

Science is not a religion. It is not something to believe in. It is a method, “a method for systematic observation, measurement, and experiment, and the formulation, testing, and modification of hypotheses.” (Oxford Dictionary).

We are a species which has for countless thousands of generations looked to the world around us and the skies over head and asked, “Why does this happen? How does that work?”

When multiple people come together to study a particular phenomenon, they must agree to a basic set of rules for how to investigate and report their findings, else they cannot share a common vocabulary and therefore, will not be able to test, validate, disprove, or share their findings.

The simple measurement of how fast a book falls to the ground can be modeled in simple algebra by any sixth grader who has a good stop watch, a measuring tape, and a few objects that don’t break when repeatedly dropped multiple times (as you will want to prove that a tight ball of foil, a rock, and a book all drop at the same increasing velocity, independent of the apparent weight on Earth).

An extension of the same principals, with far more complex observation and math allows us to determine if in fact there are planets orbiting distant stars, and through the diffraction of light, an accurate measurement of the gases in their atmospheres.

That is science. No one will worship the results nor should anyone who has faith in a greater power argue with the results unless he or she is willing to directly observer or reproduce the tests of their own volition. It is not the intent of science to take away God, even if many scientists have chosen this path of their own accord. It is the intent of science to understand how things work.

Without science we would not have cures for disease, synthetic fabrics, combustion engines, cell phones, computers or TVs. To disclaim science, to not teach science in the schools is to send us back to a time when we believed epileptic seizures were invoked by demons. Sadly, this continues today. I know a woman whose brother died because her parents believed they could pray for his cure. When I contracted malaria in Kenya in 2009, as I sat shivering, unable to even open my fingers to dial a phone, I was told I had failed to pray hard enough, that it was my fault. The woman who told me this was holding a cell phone in her hand. If only she could understand the painful irony in what she shared.

Separation of Church and Proper Education
If you believe in a greater power, then I offer that God did not give us brains only to ask us to turn them off. What’s more, the inner workings of the biological and cosmological universe is far too miraculous to be ignored, to not be explored by a species as intelligent as humans.

If you believe, then rejoice in its complex beauty. If you do not, then rejoice in its complex beauty just the same. But for God’s sake, do not hinder a proper education. It is suffering enough as it is in the U.S. A foundation for critical thinking is the most valuable thing we can give the next generation, over and over again.

For those of you who have read this and find yourselves uncomfortable, perhaps in the camp of a literal translation or on the fence, concerned you may be eternally doomed for dismissing the Bible as an historical account, I encourage you to read one of the most respected theologians of our time, David Lose.

Why, then, should anyone be dismayed that all the archeological, historical and, most importantly, genomic evidence ever collected points to the implausibility that two persons named Adam and Eve once lived in a paradisiacal garden and gave birth to all humanity? Because the recent hubbub about Adam and Eve—and the increasing number of Evangelical Christian scholars who don’t read their story literally—isn’t actually about our supposed ancestral grandparents. Rather, it’s about authority, insecurity and the fear of chaos.

More on “Adam, Eve & the Bible” at the Huffington post.

This topic is continued in Part 4.

By |2017-04-10T11:17:37-04:00August 10th, 2013|Critical Thinker, Humans & Technology, Out of America|0 Comments

A world not small enough

Today I received emails from two dozen locations in the U.S., Germany, and South Africa too. I sent a story to my adopted children in Kenya, a business update to colleagues in Wisconsin and Tanzania, and communications of various forms to a colleague in Canada, my professor in South Africa, and friends in Hawaii, Chile, and Palestine. This afternoon I spoke with my grandmother in Iowa and my brother in Phoenix; this evening a good friend in Peru. Tonight, I was surprised to discover a voice recording of a song from a friend in Estonia, waiting for me on Skype messaging.

This is my world. These are my friends, my family and colleagues. This is normal for me. And as such, I sometimes take it all for granted, the world is right here, at my finger tips, on this computer.

Yet, I remain alone, for this small, small world is not truly small enough, after all.

Back to the Basics

Kai Staats - Building a Dam, Buffalo Peak Ranch In working at the Buffalo Peak Ranch this summer, I am again reminded of the value of my skills in carpentry, given to me by my father and a lifetime of home remodeling; drafting learned in my first year of Junior High; and mechanical engineering—a way of thinking learned through experience far more than any classroom activity.

Kai Staats - Building a Dam, Buffalo Peak Ranch

With carpentry and wood working, I can rough-in a form for a concrete pour, frame a house, and repair or create a fine piece of furniture. With drafting I can quickly, effectively communicate in two dimensions an idea for a 3D construction. With an understanding of the application of force, applied to static and dynamic interactions, and the basics of volume, pressure, and time I can design basic mechanical or structural systems which perform work or provide foundation for shelter.

Without these basics, the world would for me be comprised of buildings that stand for no apparent reason, combustion engines which move us forward and back with magical motivation, and transmissions whose means of transferring the energy of rotation to linear movement—a complete mystery.

In a culture of specialization, fewer people are given these fundamentals, not enough time in the nationalized education programs or time with parents at home to teach the basics. The result is unfolding generations who can use a smart phone, drive a car, or turn on the tap to produce a steady stream of warm water, yet, they have no idea why these amenities function, taking for granted what is made available to them.

There is a joy in understanding, a pleasure in knowing how things work. There is a confidence in knowing I am able to build from the ground-up, remodel, or repair a toy, a piece of furniture, or a permanent structure.

Will an increasingly complex future of gadgets and gizmos disable an increasing number of people from these basic pleasures, from rudimentary confidence in their hands and tools?

My Grandfather’s Blessing

Kai Staats - Humming Bird at Buffalo Peak Ranch

Kai Staats - Sunrise from the barn, Buffalo Peak Ranch

A Good Morning
With the close of last week I completed two months working part time as a ranch hand on the isolated, Buffalo Peak Ranch in the Front Range of Colorado. Each morning the sun rises and I am stirred by its heat, the light falling across my face through the open doors of the second story of the barn where I sleep. I stretch, my eyes work to open.

The sky yet retains the depth of colour of the night sky, mixed with the rising sun. The coyotes howl and the most curious of the humming birds, who have come to know me fairly well, hovers directly in front of me, darting from my left eye to my right and back to the left again before departing with a chirp and a buzz. It is as though she is reminding me to come feed her.

I sit up, stretch, and engage in a few minutes of yoga and meditation to return my heart to a near sleeping state. I work to clear my mind of the anxiety of the final waking moments of sleep when it seems all that lays ahead of me finds form as characters in a dream.

It is not easy, but I want to rise in control of my body, aware of every motion and every breath. I envision email from anticipated sources, mentally run through my calendar of due-dates and deadlines and wonder if I forgot something the night before. I work to quickly sweep these thoughts aside as I realize I am again not living in the moment, the sunrise worth every bit of my attention.

I rise to my feet, arms outstretched, grasping both of the barn doors in order to draw them closed. If I were to stumble I could fall back onto my bed or forward and drop twelve feet to the packed earth below. I like the fact that my head rests near a ledge all night. It reminds me of so many nights sleeping in the desert. It feels grounded, real.

I pull on my shorts and shoes, walk across the plywood floor of the hay barn, down the stairs covered in white bird droppings, and across the yard to the cabin. The moment I open the door, even as I remain outside, a half dozen humming birds fly around me. Some are so close I can feel the movement of air from their wings across my forehead and cheeks.

Kai Staats - Humming Birds at Buffalo Peak Ranch

They know me now. The sound of the door signifies to them the coming of fresh sugar water. A few days ago four of these amazing creatures sat still, wings folded, two on each of my hands. I was able to move my hands forward and back while they kept their beaks engaged in the drinking ports. Eventually, I hope to gain their trust such that I can pet them, but that would take more time than I have committed to building our symbiotic relationship. They receive water and in exchange, I am given reason to smile.

Once inside, I prepare cold cereal or yogurt and granola, a glass of juice or cold, homemade ginger tea. It’s almost a routine, but not quite, for each day there is something unique. Sometimes a few rabbits scurry across the yard. Once or twice, the elk run by, between thirty and forty in the herd.

Kai Staats - Trevor on the new dock at Buffalo Peak Ranch

With a Shovel in Hand
This summer I helped Trevor, the head ranch hand, repair the culvert gate for the upper pond, dig nearly one thousand feet of trench with a rented Ditch Witch and then drop-in a two inch line to drain the bogs into two 275 gallon tanks for the cattle. We hope this will reduce their time in the stream, their hooves eroding the banks and waste polluting the water.

Our ad hoc surveying equipment (a carpenters level balanced across two shovels topped by a camera with zoom lens sighted to a tape measure at nearly 200 feet distance) proved useful as the water flowed through the pipe the first time.

In the final week of July, we co-designed and built a form, mixed thirty six bags of concrete, and constructed a gated dam to restore the third pond just above the road. Every day we worked hard, completing valuable projects which improve the function and value of the property.

Kai Staats - Kai repairing the culvert, Buffalo Peak Ranch

We seldom came in from the pasture until the sun was behind the peak—but then the day was done. That sense of accomplishment reminds me of growing up on our family farm in Iowa. There was nothing else to do once the sun was set, a sense of both living in the moment and letting go until the next day. We accomplished all that was possible. It will be there tomorrow, waiting.

Those were the days before cell phones and the Internet, when the land line phone rang once a day and the most important people in the world were right there, in front of you, sharing stories.

Make Time for the Storm
A thunderstorm swept across the ranch today. At two in the afternoon, the sky grew dark as it would at dusk, the temperature dropped, and the hummingbirds retreated to where it is they go for shelter, the back door quiet without their fighting over what would surely cause diabetes in humans.

The first drops fell and I remained here, at my keyboard. The thunder shook the cabin and the window to my front lit up. It was only then when I realized I was missing the storm outside. Suddenly the ozone was present, cool moisture entering the cabin. I moved quickly to watch the best show on Earth.

Outside, I welcomed the rain as my hair, shirt, and pants grew wet. The cattle in the distant pasture moved from open grass to the cover of trees and behind me, another lightning bolt struck in the Lost Creek Wilderness.

Just as my body began to shiver the rain let up and the lightning ceased. I walked around the cabin to the hot tub, lifted the cover, removed my wet clothes, and stepped in.

Finally, I was there, in just one place and one time.

If only I could live that way, every hour of ever day, as I did those many summers on my family farm. That would be my grandfather’s blessing, a reminder of the value of doing just one thing at a time.

By |2017-08-12T04:55:04-04:00August 5th, 2013|At Home in the Rockies, Humans & Technology|0 Comments

In the Void of Education – Part 2

This topic begins with Part 1.

I have spent ample time in Africa to understand the impact of poor education. It affects people in so many ways. Decisions which concern money, family, religion—even the ability to plan for something more than a few days ahead requires some degree of education. Without it, we are but responding to emotion, our logic limited as leverage for the given situation.

Prior to my interview with a student and teacher I believed an improvement in African education was about computers in the classroom and an Internet connection. Surely, these two combined would bridge the majority of the gaps.

Instead, through my own experience and subsequent conversations with Chuck and Mponda, I realized it is the total teaching system which is at the root of the issue for the teachers themselves are unwilling to teach beyond their own knowledge.

In the West we make the mistake of assuming that because access is granted to a resource, it will automatically be engaged, taken advantage of. My experience in Palestine last year was direct evidence for the contrary. Countless thousands of videos on YouTube and an equal number of publications about both sides of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict are immediately available, yet the vast majority of American’s remain ignorant due to the filtered media they choose to accept as fact.

African college students log on to Facebook each day, yet have never used Google nor heard of Wikipedia. Millions of pages of free information available at the touch of a finger tip, yet donated computers often end up locked away in a storeroom, only brought out into the class when the donor arrives for an annual visit, check in hand. The teacher’s lack of comfort with any given teaching technique and associated technology is the greatest barrier to education, everywhere.

When someone does not understand the very basics of applied science, whether it is biology, chemistry, geology or physics, how can this not affect the decisions he or she makes? How can government policies, both local and national, not be heavily influenced by the education of decision makers?

Last week a South African governor declared a 500,000 Rand fine for any witch caught flying across the border from Swaziland above 150 meters elevation. Is this any more ludicrous than an American congressman who is totally ignorant of the scientific method and associated data collection techniques declaring global warming a conspiracy of scientists the world-over, or demanding that the Christian creation story be taught along side evolution as the means by which life was given form on this planet?

The void of education is not only in Africa. It is everywhere, affecting all of us.

This topic is continued in Part 3.

In the Void of Education – Part 1

To Live on Planet Earth
This week I have been in Tanzania working on a documentary film about Astronomy as a motivator for finding passion in the sciences. I had the great fortune of meeting Chuck Ruehle, founder of Telescopes to Tanzania and member of Astronomers Without Borders, and Tanzanian educator Mponda Maloso who works through EU Universe Awareness.

Together, we ventured to a secondary school outside of Arusha, Tanzania and engaged Term-3 and -4 classes in the basics of using a telescope, the value of astronomy in education, and what kinds of jobs may be open to these students if they pursue the sciences.

Following an interview with a 13 year old girl who had this spring looked through a telescope for the first time in her life, she asked, “Sir. May I ask you a few questions?”

“Yes, of course,” I responded, seating myself in my chair beside the camera again. I settled in for the conversation while Mponda sat on the corner of the nearby desk.

As the only one of three students who chose to conduct her interview in English, she was courageous enough to also engage me in this Q&A session, which I fully appreciated.

She took a deep breath, looked at her feet and hands, and then back to me as she asked, “Is it true, … that we live outside the Earth and not in it?”

I smiled, thinking she meant in a cave or underground. I did not truly understand and looked to Mponda for clarification. He nodded back to the girl again who was quite serious.

“What do you mean? Do you mean underground?” I looked out the window to emphasize the sunlight behind the growing clouds.

She added, “No. Do we live inside the ball,” making the shape of a ball with her hands, “or outside the ball, on top?”

I paused for a moment, considering the time which had come and gone since the awareness of the basic arrangement of the solar system was re-established (the ancient Egyptians had it figured out as well, but that knowledge was lost to history).

I didn’t know if I should laugh or cry. She meant that the sky, the moon, the planets and the stars—that they traversed the inside of a ball in which we lived. This girl sends text messages on her cell phone and has likely used Facebook, but does not understand the very fundamentals of how the Earth exists within our solar system, something established hundreds of years ago (and thousands of years before that, once or twice).

I was dumbfounded. Mponda did not appear to be surprised for he sees this every day through his work in Tanzania. I confirmed that we do in fact live “on the ball” and that the Earth is in orbit around the sun, along with the other bodies in our Solar System. She went on to ask questions about weather prediction, which were well stated. I was impressed by how much she desire to learn.

The telescope had opened her mind, it got her thinking beyond the rote memorization and classroom chanting of facts and figures which is what most of sub-Saharan Africa calls education.

Mponda later confirmed the majority of the children here are not aware of the very basics, most of them believing we live inside a sphere and only having heard rumors we have walked on the Moon. The Space Shuttle, International Space Station, even the concept of a telescope completely devoid from their education.

These are not unintelligent children. Rather, they have very, very limited interface with the greater world. This is true for most of Africa, the legacy of the post WWI British school system which trained everyone to be clerks, very little more. The teaching style, even the curriculum has hardly changed.

I interviewed her teacher an hour later. Without my provocation he sated, “Because of Chuck and Mponda I learned that we live on the outside of the Earth, and that we move around the sun in our Solar System.”

He is twenty eight years of age and a license math and science teacher in the Tanzanian school system. I nodded, affirmed his recent, personal discovery, and asked how this affected him.

He pressed himself back into the chair, folded his arms across his chest, and then leaned forward again taking a deep breath, “You know? I … I see now that we are on the planet Earth which moves around the Sun. The other planets move around our Sun too.” He paused to make eye contact, as though he was seeking affirmation. I nodded, smiling.

“The stars in the sky, they are very, very far away, most of them far bigger than our own Sun. And the galaxies, well,” he laughed the laugh of one who is about to say something profound, “they have so many stars we can’t even count them all.”

I waited.

“It makes me realize how very small we are. We are just so small and the universe, it is so big and beautiful.”

Repeatedly, my interviews have brought the same words to my microphone and digital recorder, “I see now how small we truly are, and how everything is connected.”

Humility. Connection. Humble awareness of our place in the much larger universe. Connecting the dots. Truly thinking for the first time, not just repeating what the teacher shouts at the class. You don’t need a computer to do this. As Chuck makes clear in his classroom interventions—it is about getting out of the desk and learning with hands engaged. Building, Testing. Breaking. Rebuilding and testing again. It’s the scientific method that generates passion for real learning, the kind that keeps us learning for a lifetime.

This topic is continued in Part 2

At a Crossroad of Curiosity and Fear

A Crossroads
We live at an interesting crossroad, a time in which our telescopes are piercing the brilliant reaches of the very birthplace of our universe while our microscopes review the mechanisms by which life itself formed, from which we and all life on this planet do continue to evolve.

In this era science is not just a series of required classes for college degrees, but the very foundation of what makes our world tick. Cell phones cannot ring, vehicles cannot navigate, digital televisions do not transmit nor can we perform complex surgeries without tipping our hat to science. It’s not a club for the intellectually elite nor a conspiracy to undermine God, but the discovery, piece by piece, experiment failed by experiment succeeded to understand how things work and to then apply that knowledge to the improvement of our lives on this none-too-resilient planet.

Curiosity
Humans, this species so capable of immense creativity and at the same time such massive destruction has landed a one ton, mobile robot on the planet Mars, the fourth of its kind.

Curiosity is not just the name applied, but what drives us to do bold, daring things. Curiosity is what took us from continent to continent by hand hewed boat and over thawed land bridge by foot, thousands of miles over the course of thousands of years.

Once again, curiosity has taken us to foreign soil.

The average distance from the Earth to Mars is about 225 million kilometers and yet, we crossed this distance, reaching out through the extension of ourselves in eight months, traveling at a speed greater than half the circumference of the earth every hour.

In two hours Curiosity flew the distance that Magellan’s ships required nearly three years to complete five hundred years earlier, the technology that enables this great feat given birth just sixty years prior.

And yet, more humans are without adequate food and water now than in Magellan’s time, more warfare, more skirmishes, more people killed in war in the past one hundred years than at any time in history.

Fear
This is a time in which the religious are perhaps more afraid of losing their foothold in the psyche, in the heart, in the daily regimen of their followers than at any time in history. Not for loss of a need for supernatural guidance—humans have for millennia proved themselves incapable of maintaining healthy, self-imposed regulation—but for the distractions of a busier, less hierarchical world taking away from the time and omnipotent domain once given to God.

The reaction is fear. Fear of change.

In the summer of 2011 Stephan Hawking explained on international airwaves the mathematical evidence for the Universe to have been created not by a greater power, but by the very nature of space and time itself, without intelligence, without design. The same math that enables us to fly from London to JFK, the same underlying principles which govern the function of our microwave oven do give foundation to physic’s claim. If the logic holds, we have no choice but to redefine what God means to us … or stop reheating our left-over food and instead serve it cold.

Look up! Look within.
How does one then seek guidance in Her realm? Do we look further and further back in time to a place where we cannot fully explain and with one finger extended in objection, the other to test the wind and state, “There! How can you explain that?!” Or do we instead look deeper inside ourselves for the common threads of peace which do provide commonalityand seek that place which prefer no explanation for how we feel.

The next decade will likely bring as much change as the prior ten, yet how we behave toward each other, who we thank for what we have and where we place blame will not keep pace. In stark contrast to that which we change around us, on the inside, I believe, we remain very much the same. What comes next will only be understood when we again look over our shoulder to recognize where we have come from.

By |2013-02-25T18:32:28-04:00February 25th, 2013|Critical Thinker, Humans & Technology, Looking up!|0 Comments

Sometimes

I sometimes think about what it meant to love someone, to wait for someone at a time when the only means of communication was a hand written letter delivered by horse, boat, or plane. Soldiers received letters from women who waited two years for their return. While they surely had doubts, it was perhaps the speed of their communication which kept their fears at bay. They had no choice but to remain steadfast to the memory of an image, a scent, the sound of a voice. Their faith was not challenged by text messages or email which work to undermine long-term dedication.

Sometimes I wish the incredible words we share sat deeper inside of us, at a place lower, more solid, more secure than the anxiety which erodes them. This modern speed of communication is an accelerator for what eats at us daily. The technology we use to transmit how we feel seems to not give us confidence, rather it amplifies our sense and fear of being alone.

We have shared ample poetry and song and love letters to last a lifetime. And yet, we fail, sometimes, to feel love.

By |2017-04-10T11:17:39-04:00February 9th, 2013|Critical Thinker, Humans & Technology, The Written|0 Comments

TMI

There was a time not long ago, less than two decades perhaps, in which we looked to the future of a digitally interconnected species, worldwide. We believed then that famine, war, and daily strife would all but be eliminated, information the saving grace of the human race.

With satellite imagery we could greatly increase global crop yield and with internet-based communication, improve distribution. With real-time digital photography rogue military regimes could no longer get away with ethnic cleansing for the world would be aware, instantly, and take action to make it stop. Somehow, we believed, our cell phones would make us more connected, as individuals, towns, and nations.

Yet we now know things have simply not worked out as we had hoped.

I don’t need to quote the facts, for that is the heart of the issue. We simply receive too much information and for the overwhelming processing of it all, we filter and we turn away. Or we shut down.

If each of us was wet-wired, Matrix-style, to a massive computer which provided all the information we desired, real-time video feeds of every catastrophe and military invasion and non-wartime action worldwide, they would continue. In fact, they do.

It’s not for lack of compassion nor a desire to do the right thing, but the reality that it simply takes too much energy, too much time, too much empathy to open ourselves to the quagmire that unfolds when we learn that no human conflict on any scale is simple in its form nor easy to resolve.

Too much information is available to us. Too much information is required to truly engage and understand. Instead, we pick a side given the little we do know, and defend our position because we struggle to simply say, “I don’t know.”

By |2017-04-10T11:17:39-04:00January 13th, 2013|Critical Thinker, Out of Palestine|1 Comment
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