For my off-campus event I’d like to consider my trip to the Holocaust museum in Houston during this past semester. First, however, a brief account of my experience with the subject is needed. Being Jewish, I have had much interaction with the subject of the Holocaust. I have read books about it. I have seen films about it. I have completed school art projects on it. I have been to numerous Holocaust museums all over the world and told that I specifically have a responsibility to know and remember what happened. Whether it was in D.C., L.A., or even Jerusalem, the museums were all very moving. We listened to survivors speak at many of them. The thing is, however, these always ended the same way. Of course it was all moving at the time, but, to borrow a line from the film Hotel Rwanda, essentially I just went on eating my dinner. Most often, I was troubled for the rest of the day and then I forgot about it and went on living my life. This past summer, I went to Berlin and visited the concentration camp “Sachsenhausen” with my dad. The camp was mostly turned into a museum and still had many structures standing, including the ovens used to turn dead bodies into ash (much easier to deal with). The end result was fundamentally different from any time after I had seen any of the other museums. I had been where it had happened. Seen that it HAD happened.
It is with this background, therefore, that I went to the Holocaust museum in Houston. I went fully expecting the same experience as I’ve had at every other museum I’ve been to, but, to my surprise, it was different. Put simply, it had a huge impact on me. Suddenly, those people in the pictures could have been killed five feet from where I once stood. Someone… a life… could have frozen to death in the striped uniform on the wall. There was a direct connection between what I had seen in Germany and what I was looking at on the wall. I’m not sure how else to say it, other than, this mattered to me. I didn’t forget what I saw. I took it to memory, thought about it, even wrote about it some in my journal. I thought about religion, belief versus action, life, and what it means to be a fellow human being. All things which I have thought of before, but never in such a dark context and never like this. Perhaps it’s because I’m questioning my religion right now, and yet would certainly have been identified in Nazi Germany as Jewish, whether I liked it or not. It made me realize that who you are is, on some level, inevitable from birth.
Most of all, however, this experience it provided me with the distinction of experienced knowledge versus what can be called “fed knowledge.” “Fed knowledge” is just like it sounds. Facts you retain because they’ve been told to you, in this case, a lot. For me, going to a Jewish school all my life, the epitome of “fed knowledge” is the Holocaust. This is for good reason. The Holocaust was a representation of evil on a scale that has been seemingly unmatched in all human history. Everyone should know that it happened and not allow it to happen again because it was very wrong, very recent, and it would be very bad if it happened again. That being said, I think the only way to really get what happened and why it matters is to go there and see it with your own eyes. In the end, it reinforced my belief that experienced knowledge is more powerful than any fact that is told to you, and as such, should be held at a higher value.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Friday, December 4, 2009
Discussions
Discussions:
First of all, I really enjoyed the style in which Paideia was run this semester. I think we should continue in this way, of everyone bringing in readings of interest. This is simply because, to me, it represents what’s greatest about southwestern. It is the epitome of a liberal arts education and, contrary to some, I believe raw discussion in the manner which we conduct it is incredibly useful. Not only that, but Paideia provides me with an outlet to develop and define my intellectual passions. I think it’s organized enough as is for this and reading from a single book, while certainly more convenient, restricts having such a broad and diverse group of readings and therefore a more narrow view of everyone’s passions.
I think it’s wonderful that we can talk about such a wide range of topics as gene-testing to analyzing the role of passion and humor in the educational process to thinking about what it means to be alive. Furthermore, making connections between these things is beneficial as well and I think clearly occurred.
This semester, I really enjoyed Michelle’s and Katie’s readings in particular. We discussed the very notion of science quite a bit and that was personally useful. To be honest however, I feel like I didn’t do a good enough job with Bryson. This is something I need to work on in general. Not only in regards to the basic ability to articulate my ideas, but specifically in articulating what I am passionate about. I get caught up in my own thoughts and too frequently wind up going in circles. That being said I enjoyed talking about Bryson. Both the content of Bryson itself, as well as the discussion we had on his work, brings to the foreground the issue of knowledge and how it is acquired. It made me realize the faults that are often inherent within our educational system. What is the value of academics versus knowledge gained through personal experience? A question I have constantly been asking with regards to my wonderful physics class.
I think that this is how Paideia is most beneficial for me. It allows me to reaffirm or even discard my beliefs that come from both my classes and knowledge I gain through other means. On some level, the fact that there isn’t such an extensive structure within the program in fact enhances this ability. Perhaps then, it’s beneficial to be purely discussion. With that said, and I wrote about this briefly in the last blog, it is absolutely necessary to read before people come. There’s just no point otherwise because that’s all Paideia is right now… readings and discussions.
As perhaps a final side note, I enjoyed our switch to the Cove media room this past semester. Not only do I like couches, but it reaffirms my belief that a classroom in the typical sense is not a requirement for learning.
First of all, I really enjoyed the style in which Paideia was run this semester. I think we should continue in this way, of everyone bringing in readings of interest. This is simply because, to me, it represents what’s greatest about southwestern. It is the epitome of a liberal arts education and, contrary to some, I believe raw discussion in the manner which we conduct it is incredibly useful. Not only that, but Paideia provides me with an outlet to develop and define my intellectual passions. I think it’s organized enough as is for this and reading from a single book, while certainly more convenient, restricts having such a broad and diverse group of readings and therefore a more narrow view of everyone’s passions.
I think it’s wonderful that we can talk about such a wide range of topics as gene-testing to analyzing the role of passion and humor in the educational process to thinking about what it means to be alive. Furthermore, making connections between these things is beneficial as well and I think clearly occurred.
This semester, I really enjoyed Michelle’s and Katie’s readings in particular. We discussed the very notion of science quite a bit and that was personally useful. To be honest however, I feel like I didn’t do a good enough job with Bryson. This is something I need to work on in general. Not only in regards to the basic ability to articulate my ideas, but specifically in articulating what I am passionate about. I get caught up in my own thoughts and too frequently wind up going in circles. That being said I enjoyed talking about Bryson. Both the content of Bryson itself, as well as the discussion we had on his work, brings to the foreground the issue of knowledge and how it is acquired. It made me realize the faults that are often inherent within our educational system. What is the value of academics versus knowledge gained through personal experience? A question I have constantly been asking with regards to my wonderful physics class.
I think that this is how Paideia is most beneficial for me. It allows me to reaffirm or even discard my beliefs that come from both my classes and knowledge I gain through other means. On some level, the fact that there isn’t such an extensive structure within the program in fact enhances this ability. Perhaps then, it’s beneficial to be purely discussion. With that said, and I wrote about this briefly in the last blog, it is absolutely necessary to read before people come. There’s just no point otherwise because that’s all Paideia is right now… readings and discussions.
As perhaps a final side note, I enjoyed our switch to the Cove media room this past semester. Not only do I like couches, but it reaffirms my belief that a classroom in the typical sense is not a requirement for learning.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
End of Semester
Hello all! Yet another semester has come and gone by much too fast and there is, happily, something to show for it. For me, this semester was a mind-altering one. I think about the world differently now than I did before. A fairly arresting notion for me, slightly disconcerting at times, but a change which I more or less welcome. The primary change, I believe, is that I now demand a better understanding of the subject matter with which I am engaged. To quote physicist Richard Feynman,
“ You can know the name of a bird in all the languages of the world, but when you’re finished, you’ll know absolutely nothing whatever about the bird... So let’s look at the bird and see what it’s doing — that’s what counts. I learned very early the difference between knowing the name of something and knowing something.”
Before this in my educational career, I mostly, sadly, went along for the ride. Sure I had questions but they never got to the heart of the issue. To continue Feynman’s illustrious example, I would ask how to say the birds name in German. A valid question but one which doesn’t see the full picture.
Sticking with physics for the moment, I had an important realization about my education the other day. I studied with a friend of mine who is going to be a very good doctor some day. He is very driven. However, I don’t much get his studying habits. He goes through the book, writes down every possible equation, most of which are manipulations of the same equation for specific circumstances, and proceeds to memorize all of them. Now, for a test over three chapters, this is somewhere around twenty to thirty various equations, many with the same variables. This is not how I learn, but I don’t think it’s how my friend learns either. I’m going to ask him next semester to write down as many equations as he can remember and see how many he gets, even if only to satisfy personal curiosity. However, if I had to make a bet, I would put money on him not getting too many down. So the obvious conclusion is that he’s learning it for the test. But then, what’s the point?
For me, my education is at its best when it’s real. When, for example, I’m driving back to school along a curve going 60 miles per hour and am able to calculate the coefficient of kinetic friction which my soda would slide across the dash board. (ยต = .281 by the way). Moreover, my education is for me. It’s personal, which is why I liked this semester in Paideia where we each basically shared how our education was personal to all of us. What do we actually think about when we get out of class? What do we come away with? What matters?
I switched majors from biology to philosophy. Even now I’m not sure which had more influence on the other (whether switching majors made me think differently, or whether I was thinking differently, and so I naturally switched majors). I think it more the latter, but it was undoubtedly a combination of the two. Switching majors is not an everyday occurrence certainly, and particularly not after having already spent half my time here. It will have its effects. Thanks to my folks’ intense understanding, graciousness, and dough, I’ll probably be able to take an extra semester for the philosophy capstone. Now, I want to talk specifically about switching majors for a make-up blog, so I won’t go into such great detail on the matter now, but the issue goes hand in hand with the value of Paideia and why I enjoy the program so much. Put briefly, I wouldn’t be a philosophy major if I wasn’t getting a liberal-arts education, perhaps if I wasn’t in Paideia either but that seems to difficult to tell for sure. Now, what is it specifically about Paideia this semester that aided in this transformation? (Because I do indeed think that motivation was behind the very content of what we spoke about).
We certainly spoke a great deal about science and art and their relation to knowledge in general. I really enjoyed how Michelle’s reading on Proust contributed to this idea. I think it should be required reading for all science majors. As we spoke about in the meeting, I think science is misperceived by most and given a tremendous amount of blind faith. I think this is at its clearest in the FJS building. What happened to curiosity? Where’s more of the Bryson-ian questioning of the fundamentals? Science is, of course, based on such questioning, and yet very rarely was it found amongst my peers. It is not about memorizing equations. Memorization is blasphemous to science. It is contrary to its every goal and purpose. It just doesn’t make sense.
And yet such faith in science is widespread, and with it comes the distrust of the humanities. There isn’t room, apparently, for both. Since they seem in contradiction, it is the logical choice to choose one over the other. Bullshit. I understand there are differences in the methods of determining what is and how to best acquire knowledge within each field, but to argue that science is the “objective field,” while the humanities are the “subjective field,” does nothing more than illustrate a severe misunderstanding of the issue as a whole and of science in particular.
Discussions we had in Paideia on the nature of science helped me in two ways. First, simply in that it was an outlet for my own thought, as the discussion on Bryson should indicate. But it’s a two way street, and hearing what others said on Bryson, along with Katie and Michelle’s readings in particular, sparked much thought on the issue of education in general, and more specifically science.
Apart from the very content though, I enjoyed Paideia most this semester because I realized its value specifically in making connections between ideas. These ranged from almost trivially obvious ones that have even so not been made, like biology and life, to frequent ones that are often misperceived such as science and religion. Raw discussion is perfect for this goal and that’s why Paideia is so valuable, even if it isn’t entitled as an honors program.
That said, some small things can be done to improve Paideia. Everybody needs to read. Everybody also needs to get readings in on time. I didn’t get mine in on time, so I don’t have room to talk there, but I did read. I also realized, after reading Katie’s blog that I should have tried to advocate a more provocative view on Bryson. This should be at the foreground for everyone as well. All in all, I think Paideia went well considering Caitlin and Brady are both abroad. Good job all.
“ You can know the name of a bird in all the languages of the world, but when you’re finished, you’ll know absolutely nothing whatever about the bird... So let’s look at the bird and see what it’s doing — that’s what counts. I learned very early the difference between knowing the name of something and knowing something.”
Before this in my educational career, I mostly, sadly, went along for the ride. Sure I had questions but they never got to the heart of the issue. To continue Feynman’s illustrious example, I would ask how to say the birds name in German. A valid question but one which doesn’t see the full picture.
Sticking with physics for the moment, I had an important realization about my education the other day. I studied with a friend of mine who is going to be a very good doctor some day. He is very driven. However, I don’t much get his studying habits. He goes through the book, writes down every possible equation, most of which are manipulations of the same equation for specific circumstances, and proceeds to memorize all of them. Now, for a test over three chapters, this is somewhere around twenty to thirty various equations, many with the same variables. This is not how I learn, but I don’t think it’s how my friend learns either. I’m going to ask him next semester to write down as many equations as he can remember and see how many he gets, even if only to satisfy personal curiosity. However, if I had to make a bet, I would put money on him not getting too many down. So the obvious conclusion is that he’s learning it for the test. But then, what’s the point?
For me, my education is at its best when it’s real. When, for example, I’m driving back to school along a curve going 60 miles per hour and am able to calculate the coefficient of kinetic friction which my soda would slide across the dash board. (ยต = .281 by the way). Moreover, my education is for me. It’s personal, which is why I liked this semester in Paideia where we each basically shared how our education was personal to all of us. What do we actually think about when we get out of class? What do we come away with? What matters?
I switched majors from biology to philosophy. Even now I’m not sure which had more influence on the other (whether switching majors made me think differently, or whether I was thinking differently, and so I naturally switched majors). I think it more the latter, but it was undoubtedly a combination of the two. Switching majors is not an everyday occurrence certainly, and particularly not after having already spent half my time here. It will have its effects. Thanks to my folks’ intense understanding, graciousness, and dough, I’ll probably be able to take an extra semester for the philosophy capstone. Now, I want to talk specifically about switching majors for a make-up blog, so I won’t go into such great detail on the matter now, but the issue goes hand in hand with the value of Paideia and why I enjoy the program so much. Put briefly, I wouldn’t be a philosophy major if I wasn’t getting a liberal-arts education, perhaps if I wasn’t in Paideia either but that seems to difficult to tell for sure. Now, what is it specifically about Paideia this semester that aided in this transformation? (Because I do indeed think that motivation was behind the very content of what we spoke about).
We certainly spoke a great deal about science and art and their relation to knowledge in general. I really enjoyed how Michelle’s reading on Proust contributed to this idea. I think it should be required reading for all science majors. As we spoke about in the meeting, I think science is misperceived by most and given a tremendous amount of blind faith. I think this is at its clearest in the FJS building. What happened to curiosity? Where’s more of the Bryson-ian questioning of the fundamentals? Science is, of course, based on such questioning, and yet very rarely was it found amongst my peers. It is not about memorizing equations. Memorization is blasphemous to science. It is contrary to its every goal and purpose. It just doesn’t make sense.
And yet such faith in science is widespread, and with it comes the distrust of the humanities. There isn’t room, apparently, for both. Since they seem in contradiction, it is the logical choice to choose one over the other. Bullshit. I understand there are differences in the methods of determining what is and how to best acquire knowledge within each field, but to argue that science is the “objective field,” while the humanities are the “subjective field,” does nothing more than illustrate a severe misunderstanding of the issue as a whole and of science in particular.
Discussions we had in Paideia on the nature of science helped me in two ways. First, simply in that it was an outlet for my own thought, as the discussion on Bryson should indicate. But it’s a two way street, and hearing what others said on Bryson, along with Katie and Michelle’s readings in particular, sparked much thought on the issue of education in general, and more specifically science.
Apart from the very content though, I enjoyed Paideia most this semester because I realized its value specifically in making connections between ideas. These ranged from almost trivially obvious ones that have even so not been made, like biology and life, to frequent ones that are often misperceived such as science and religion. Raw discussion is perfect for this goal and that’s why Paideia is so valuable, even if it isn’t entitled as an honors program.
That said, some small things can be done to improve Paideia. Everybody needs to read. Everybody also needs to get readings in on time. I didn’t get mine in on time, so I don’t have room to talk there, but I did read. I also realized, after reading Katie’s blog that I should have tried to advocate a more provocative view on Bryson. This should be at the foreground for everyone as well. All in all, I think Paideia went well considering Caitlin and Brady are both abroad. Good job all.
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