"Thomas Edison tried and failed nearly 2,000 times to develop the carbonized cotton-thread filament for the incandescent light bulb. And when asked about it, he said 'I didn't fail; I found out 2,000 ways how not to make a light bulb'"
~Nicolas Cage as Ben Gates in National Treasure
I have no idea if this is true or not, but it is a cool idea nonetheless, and one I want to talk about.
So somewhere over the past few years, I apparently became good at handstands. It was a gradual process, and I really couldn't point to a time when I couldn't do them and then I could. People have also started to notice, which means I am now getting questions asking for handstand advice.
By a huge margin, the most popular exchange I participate in is the following:
"Hey, what can I do to get better at handstands"
Do handstands...
"Are there any exercises that I can do to get better?"
Yeah, there are. They are called handstands
Handstands are a delicate balance within your body. You have to align everything just right so that everything is right where it needs to be so that all forces cancel and you are left perfectly still atop your hands. Moving your body through the air in a handstand is much like writing. Incredibly small moves can create large consequences, and precision is required. Handstands, as with writing, comes in personalized form - everyone does them differently. If you don't write for a while and then write an essay, your hand is going to cramp up because those muscles are not getting used. With handstands, your muscle memory is what keeps you up, not conscious thought, and so if you don't keep training your muscles, they will fail you.
There are some things in this world which are irreducibly complex, and handstands are almost one of them. You can do headstands and other smaller handbalancing tricks, and that will teach you what alignment feels like, but you are honestly better off doing that with handstands against a wall. In the end, the only way to learn how to extend through your arms and legs at the same time and to find a place where everything just settles in, is to fall a couple thousand times.
The idea is this. For any given goal, there are a large number of wrong answers (possibly infinite) and a smaller number of correct solutions. If you continue to attempt over and over and over again, and if you make sure to try to avoid making the same mistake more than once, you will eventually, in theory correct every single possible mistake you are making until you get it right.
We are just such a society that likes easy answers. I know. I am a math major - and wolframalpha is my best friend, and as my math teacher said "mathematicians are lazy." But more than easy answers we like success. That makes sense to me. I get that. Success is good, it makes us feel good and it means we have done something. This is why we as students (and as people) are taught that a good strategy for problem solving is to break the problem up and do different pieces at different times, or just to set small goals for ourselves in a long procedure. In general, this is one of the best advices I can give people. But not for circus. In circus, you have to just go. You have to know the idea, and you have to do it, and do it, and do it until you figure out what works. Because unlike math, or literature or many other worthwhile pursuits, circus has a handwriting aspect to it. Two people doing a math problem could very easily obtain the same solution through the same means, and it is likely the more simple the problem is. And someone can show you, and you can repeat exactly what they did. But with circus, as with writing, your body is unique. You and you alone have knowledge of how it works, and so you can imitate, but you cannot duplicate, what you see in others, and in learning from them, you are forced to develop your handwriting.
So try a different approach. Just take your problem, and fail a few thousand times, and when you finally get it, it will be just about the best thing ever.
Monday, February 27, 2012
Friday, February 10, 2012
They Changed It
In one of my favorite movies, Dustin Hoffman, who plays the producer of a theatre, says to Johnny Depp, who plays J.M. Barrie, author and playwright of Peter Pan,
Charles Frohman: You know what happened, James, they changed it.
J.M. Barrie: They changed what?
Charles Frohman: The critics, they made it important... hm, what's it called? What's it called?
J.M. Barrie: Play.
Charles Frohman: Play.
And that really struck a chord with me. Taking something that we all love and changing it into something that it shouldn't be.
I had that realization about something in my life today that I love. Math class. Somewhere in the past 4 years of my life they changed it. I've seen it changed before, but not in my classroom.
I saw it 10 years ago, when I was deciding which middle school I liked best. I went to Vail, a school with a GATE program that looked great, and all was awesome until I went to the math class and saw kids who didn't understand, and didn't ask questions. They were actually afraid to ask questions, and I wondered why that was. Now I know, because they did it to my classroom.
Somewhere in the past three years, they took math class, and made it about knowing the answers. It used to be about finding the answers, about learning how other people found answers. But now it seems to be about having the answers. And when you speak up in class, and say "I'm sorry, I don't understand a word of what you just wrote on the board" or even "wait, what was that?" you get them ost incredulous looks from some students and the teacher who them procedes to explain to you like you are five just how clear it is that this definition makes it. To which I reply "well, it isn't clear because I don't get it" and then they give you a roundabout answer, you figure it out in the book yourself and we forget the whole thing happened.
When did questions become a bad thing? Cuz the way I remember it, and correct me if I'm wrong about this one, Mrs. Kolesikova, but a question was an opportunity the way I remembered it. An opportunity for the teacher to teach someone something, an opportunity for another student to get some clarity on something, and an opportunity for that student to get one of those ever elusive "ah-HA" moments that all mathematicians long for. A question was an indication that your job was not done yet, and that this student wanted to see this the way you saw it, and was brave enough to admit that he or she could not see it yet. Of course he or she can't, that is why they are in your class - to learn about what you have to teach.
So.
When I ask you to go over the first problem of the homework that I just spent the last 15 minutes talking to everyone around me about how nobody had a fucking clue what was going on in that problem, and you tell me "oh, it's a very naïve solution, I'll show you" (that is his word for "simple," I figured out) and then writes the solution and then basically scolds me for not understanding it. I believe his exact words were "we went over this in week three, so you have no excuse for not knowing this." By the way, I checked with the other kids in my class - nobody had seen that before, including the grad student we went to get help from. When you act like a question is a chore that you should put the least amount of effort into, you remember this, Professor: if I don't understand something, it is because you have not done your job in properly explaining something, and I am allowing you the opportunity to fix that.
I noticed something: this is the norm in math classes here...
What happened? Why did they change it?
Charles Frohman: You know what happened, James, they changed it.
J.M. Barrie: They changed what?
Charles Frohman: The critics, they made it important... hm, what's it called? What's it called?
J.M. Barrie: Play.
Charles Frohman: Play.
And that really struck a chord with me. Taking something that we all love and changing it into something that it shouldn't be.
I had that realization about something in my life today that I love. Math class. Somewhere in the past 4 years of my life they changed it. I've seen it changed before, but not in my classroom.
I saw it 10 years ago, when I was deciding which middle school I liked best. I went to Vail, a school with a GATE program that looked great, and all was awesome until I went to the math class and saw kids who didn't understand, and didn't ask questions. They were actually afraid to ask questions, and I wondered why that was. Now I know, because they did it to my classroom.
Somewhere in the past three years, they took math class, and made it about knowing the answers. It used to be about finding the answers, about learning how other people found answers. But now it seems to be about having the answers. And when you speak up in class, and say "I'm sorry, I don't understand a word of what you just wrote on the board" or even "wait, what was that?" you get them ost incredulous looks from some students and the teacher who them procedes to explain to you like you are five just how clear it is that this definition makes it. To which I reply "well, it isn't clear because I don't get it" and then they give you a roundabout answer, you figure it out in the book yourself and we forget the whole thing happened.
When did questions become a bad thing? Cuz the way I remember it, and correct me if I'm wrong about this one, Mrs. Kolesikova, but a question was an opportunity the way I remembered it. An opportunity for the teacher to teach someone something, an opportunity for another student to get some clarity on something, and an opportunity for that student to get one of those ever elusive "ah-HA" moments that all mathematicians long for. A question was an indication that your job was not done yet, and that this student wanted to see this the way you saw it, and was brave enough to admit that he or she could not see it yet. Of course he or she can't, that is why they are in your class - to learn about what you have to teach.
So.
When I ask you to go over the first problem of the homework that I just spent the last 15 minutes talking to everyone around me about how nobody had a fucking clue what was going on in that problem, and you tell me "oh, it's a very naïve solution, I'll show you" (that is his word for "simple," I figured out) and then writes the solution and then basically scolds me for not understanding it. I believe his exact words were "we went over this in week three, so you have no excuse for not knowing this." By the way, I checked with the other kids in my class - nobody had seen that before, including the grad student we went to get help from. When you act like a question is a chore that you should put the least amount of effort into, you remember this, Professor: if I don't understand something, it is because you have not done your job in properly explaining something, and I am allowing you the opportunity to fix that.
I noticed something: this is the norm in math classes here...
What happened? Why did they change it?
The Times...
They are a'changin. I wanted to let everyone know that I am making decided changes in my life and the way I live it, and I believe I am so very much better for it. I felt it was good news, after struggling through last year a bit at times, and I wanted to share it with you guys.
Yeah. This year will be better, because I shall make it so.
That is all.
You guys are awesome!
Yeah. This year will be better, because I shall make it so.
That is all.
You guys are awesome!
Thursday, February 2, 2012
How To Not Accidentally Sound Like A Jerk
This is going to be the homophobia edition, because I can't really talk about anything else, but it is important that you know where this is coming from. It is coming from a discussion on race
Angry Eye is an experiment/experience conducted in which college aged students are separated by eye color, and various amounts of learning and tears ensue. I highly recommend you watch it before reading this post, but as it is over 50 minutes long, I'll do my best to write as if you have not.
"When I look at you, I don't see you black"
"When I look at you, I don't see you queer"
"You arn't a black person to me, you are my friend"
"You are not just a queer kid, you are my friend"
Gonna say right off, I want you to understand, never utter these phrases or anything involving these constructions. Ever. Especially those first two. Those are really gnarly, and now I am going to explain to you why that is.
I wrote this with the word black, so I'm just gonna keep it that way, but you can exchange it for the word queer, or alter-abled or any oppressed ethnicity or what have you.
"When I look at you, I don't see you as black"
What is intended: you are my friend, and I think of you as my friend, and I don't think of you as "that black person"
What this means to the speaker: I do care about you as a person, and I want to make it clear to you that I am not racist because you are my friend and it is the worst thing to have your friends think poorly of you.
What this implies to the listener: people whom you do not care about and who are not your friends (people not me), you do think of them as black. Furthermore, by being your friend, in your eyes, I have un-othered* myself. I have been granted this privilege of no longer being othered by you, the otherer, because you are in power, and I am not, and as long as things remain that way, you want me to remain at a place where being your friend is the best thing I can do, because I am stuck this way.
Appropriate response: fuck you
*My definition: To be an other in a society like ours is to be a minority, and one that receives different treatment disproportionate to your difference. Handicapped spaces are an example of differing treatment that is not disproportionate, because the difference between alter-abled, and whatever you call someone who is not, often implies a more difficult time moving around. Putting a group alter-abled people in a separate school because their legs don't work is othering.
Many people on the privileged side of privilege are confused about this response, which I will reiterate, is quite reasonable. The point that you are missing is that what you intend and what it implies to a person who has been othered by society are completely different. This is not a bad thing, you should not be ashamed of your privilege, but you should be aware of it, and when someone gets (in your opinion) disproportionately pissed off at something you believed to be completely innocuous, chances are pretty good it is because you did not understand their point of view.
In such a situation, because you are trying to say "I care about you," now would be a great time to prove it. Explain that you did not understand what was so harmful about that statement, and then (second most importantly) ask them to explain it, and (most importantly) accept it as a truth, not an opinion. They experienced your words in this way, that is a fact. You are not here to argue if their experience is justified, you are here to understand why what happened happened and you are here to make sure it doesn't happen again, because they were hurt by your words, and you don't like hurting your friends, do you?
I was asked by a friend of mine, how would I avoid this negative implication. Simple answer, you can't. It simply cannot be done. This phrase will, and has in my experience, triggered anger nearly 100% of the time. It can't be done. The best thing you can do is understand why, and how to deal with it once it happens.
So I have had a lot of people of varying closeness in my life, and at one time or another, being human, many of them have made mistakes. Many of them have said "oh man, that is so gay" or "look at that faggot" or anything along those lines. It happens. I understand that. You have been trained to use the word gay as a synonym for "thing I don't like" and the word faggot to mean "that person I don't like" and this is not your fault. I understand that. It is the fault of those who came before you. It is your job now to be aware of that, and to take steps to change it.
When I point out that someone has made a booboo, there are, in general, three (four) categories that the reactions I receive fall into.
1. That wasn't what I meant
2. Oops
3. OH MY GOD I AM SO SORRY
(and the unspoken fourth category, because the people who say this are not my friends, and therefore I have no business trying to get them to understand)
4. Fuck you faggot
Two of these categories of response are acceptable, one is unnecessary, one makes all othered people sigh, and one of them will result in someone punching you in the face.
Gonna tackle them one by one.
1. That's not what I meant, you are taking this too seriously, calm down, etc.
These are the biggest privilege denying responses there are, and as a responsible friend to an othered person (hint, that is almost every single college aged person in America), it is your job to understand where your friend is coming from, and this response is not the way to tell them "I want to learn."
This is the one that will make people sigh, because we hear it all the time. If this kind of response were applied to a statement about women and a feminist spoke up, this response would be a great example of "mansplaining." It happens. All. The. Time. Remember people, I don't blame you for your training, but once I point out that you have done wrong, I expect you to be an adult about it and own up to it.
This is the most common response.
2. Best response you can give. Obviously, don't say "oops" but admit that what you said was wrong, and then ask how it was wrong (and listen to the response) and then, for the love of all that is good, don't make the same mistake twice. I know that what you did was most likely a knee jerk reaction to something. I know your brain went through the process of "I don't like that thing, that thing is (... umm... what's the word people use most ofte)GAY" and I don't blame you for that. So when I point it out, go "whoops" and mean it, and then try not to do it again. If you do, try to be mindful and correct yourself.
3. This one is almost the best response. Some people might love this one. I don't. And here's why.
That's it - I just don't need one. You are my friend, and all I need to know is that you recognize that what you said is wrong and will try not to do it again. Mistake leads to apology leads to forgiveness leads to move on. If you dwell on any of those steps, you will not be the better for it.
4. Fuck you faggot.
Fuck you, you privilege-denying, slur-slinging, homophobic, insecure, sack of ignorant shit, you have no place in my life, begone with your hate filled discriminatory ways.
Have I said things that were interpreted in other ways than I intended? Does the sun rise in the morning? Am I white? Uhhh, yeah. Did I react perfectly every time? Psh.
Do I endeavor to be better? Absolutely. Do I believe I deserve some of that benefit of the doubt? Yes. Do I believe I should be excused from my mistakes? No, but I believe I should be forgiven.
In this instance, I do my best to apply the golden rule. I treat those who make mistakes with the same level of forgiveness and compassion with which I would expect to be treated.
So, How To Not Accidentally Sound Like A Jerk: can't be done. However, what you can do is this: realize when you have been a jerk, apologize for being a jerk, and hope that your friends and you have a loving enough relationship so that they can forgive you, and then you in turn forgive them when they make mistakes, because everybody does it. Everybody has some privilege.
My roommate and I have been working on an idea of the überprivilege. It is the following (in America, mind you)
Straight, white, cissexual, male, able-bodied, young, thin, christian, there may have been others but that's what I've got.
If you are a gay, african, transwoman, alter-abled, old, heavy, and muslim in america, you might have a case for not having any privilege. But if you have any of those privileges, be aware of them, and be aware that you are at risk for saying something stupid and offending someone you love. Just remember that you love them and can convey that, and you'll be fine, I expect.
Angry Eye is an experiment/experience conducted in which college aged students are separated by eye color, and various amounts of learning and tears ensue. I highly recommend you watch it before reading this post, but as it is over 50 minutes long, I'll do my best to write as if you have not.
"When I look at you, I don't see you black"
"When I look at you, I don't see you queer"
"You arn't a black person to me, you are my friend"
"You are not just a queer kid, you are my friend"
Gonna say right off, I want you to understand, never utter these phrases or anything involving these constructions. Ever. Especially those first two. Those are really gnarly, and now I am going to explain to you why that is.
I wrote this with the word black, so I'm just gonna keep it that way, but you can exchange it for the word queer, or alter-abled or any oppressed ethnicity or what have you.
"When I look at you, I don't see you as black"
What is intended: you are my friend, and I think of you as my friend, and I don't think of you as "that black person"
What this means to the speaker: I do care about you as a person, and I want to make it clear to you that I am not racist because you are my friend and it is the worst thing to have your friends think poorly of you.
What this implies to the listener: people whom you do not care about and who are not your friends (people not me), you do think of them as black. Furthermore, by being your friend, in your eyes, I have un-othered* myself. I have been granted this privilege of no longer being othered by you, the otherer, because you are in power, and I am not, and as long as things remain that way, you want me to remain at a place where being your friend is the best thing I can do, because I am stuck this way.
Appropriate response: fuck you
*My definition: To be an other in a society like ours is to be a minority, and one that receives different treatment disproportionate to your difference. Handicapped spaces are an example of differing treatment that is not disproportionate, because the difference between alter-abled, and whatever you call someone who is not, often implies a more difficult time moving around. Putting a group alter-abled people in a separate school because their legs don't work is othering.
Many people on the privileged side of privilege are confused about this response, which I will reiterate, is quite reasonable. The point that you are missing is that what you intend and what it implies to a person who has been othered by society are completely different. This is not a bad thing, you should not be ashamed of your privilege, but you should be aware of it, and when someone gets (in your opinion) disproportionately pissed off at something you believed to be completely innocuous, chances are pretty good it is because you did not understand their point of view.
In such a situation, because you are trying to say "I care about you," now would be a great time to prove it. Explain that you did not understand what was so harmful about that statement, and then (second most importantly) ask them to explain it, and (most importantly) accept it as a truth, not an opinion. They experienced your words in this way, that is a fact. You are not here to argue if their experience is justified, you are here to understand why what happened happened and you are here to make sure it doesn't happen again, because they were hurt by your words, and you don't like hurting your friends, do you?
I was asked by a friend of mine, how would I avoid this negative implication. Simple answer, you can't. It simply cannot be done. This phrase will, and has in my experience, triggered anger nearly 100% of the time. It can't be done. The best thing you can do is understand why, and how to deal with it once it happens.
So I have had a lot of people of varying closeness in my life, and at one time or another, being human, many of them have made mistakes. Many of them have said "oh man, that is so gay" or "look at that faggot" or anything along those lines. It happens. I understand that. You have been trained to use the word gay as a synonym for "thing I don't like" and the word faggot to mean "that person I don't like" and this is not your fault. I understand that. It is the fault of those who came before you. It is your job now to be aware of that, and to take steps to change it.
When I point out that someone has made a booboo, there are, in general, three (four) categories that the reactions I receive fall into.
1. That wasn't what I meant
2. Oops
3. OH MY GOD I AM SO SORRY
(and the unspoken fourth category, because the people who say this are not my friends, and therefore I have no business trying to get them to understand)
4. Fuck you faggot
Two of these categories of response are acceptable, one is unnecessary, one makes all othered people sigh, and one of them will result in someone punching you in the face.
Gonna tackle them one by one.
1. That's not what I meant, you are taking this too seriously, calm down, etc.
These are the biggest privilege denying responses there are, and as a responsible friend to an othered person (hint, that is almost every single college aged person in America), it is your job to understand where your friend is coming from, and this response is not the way to tell them "I want to learn."
This is the one that will make people sigh, because we hear it all the time. If this kind of response were applied to a statement about women and a feminist spoke up, this response would be a great example of "mansplaining." It happens. All. The. Time. Remember people, I don't blame you for your training, but once I point out that you have done wrong, I expect you to be an adult about it and own up to it.
This is the most common response.
2. Best response you can give. Obviously, don't say "oops" but admit that what you said was wrong, and then ask how it was wrong (and listen to the response) and then, for the love of all that is good, don't make the same mistake twice. I know that what you did was most likely a knee jerk reaction to something. I know your brain went through the process of "I don't like that thing, that thing is (... umm... what's the word people use most ofte)GAY" and I don't blame you for that. So when I point it out, go "whoops" and mean it, and then try not to do it again. If you do, try to be mindful and correct yourself.
3. This one is almost the best response. Some people might love this one. I don't. And here's why.
- If I care enough to point out that what you said was not ok, you are already my friend and I already like you.
- If you are my friend, chances are you are not a racist/homophobic sack of shit.
- If you are not a homophobic sack of shit, chances are occurrences like this are fairly rare.
- If occurrences like this are fairly rare, you deserve the benefit of the doubt that this was the result of societal training and not you being a supreme douchecanoe.
- If the occurrence was the result of societal training, I don't need a huge apology.
That's it - I just don't need one. You are my friend, and all I need to know is that you recognize that what you said is wrong and will try not to do it again. Mistake leads to apology leads to forgiveness leads to move on. If you dwell on any of those steps, you will not be the better for it.
4. Fuck you faggot.
Fuck you, you privilege-denying, slur-slinging, homophobic, insecure, sack of ignorant shit, you have no place in my life, begone with your hate filled discriminatory ways.
Have I said things that were interpreted in other ways than I intended? Does the sun rise in the morning? Am I white? Uhhh, yeah. Did I react perfectly every time? Psh.
Do I endeavor to be better? Absolutely. Do I believe I deserve some of that benefit of the doubt? Yes. Do I believe I should be excused from my mistakes? No, but I believe I should be forgiven.
In this instance, I do my best to apply the golden rule. I treat those who make mistakes with the same level of forgiveness and compassion with which I would expect to be treated.
So, How To Not Accidentally Sound Like A Jerk: can't be done. However, what you can do is this: realize when you have been a jerk, apologize for being a jerk, and hope that your friends and you have a loving enough relationship so that they can forgive you, and then you in turn forgive them when they make mistakes, because everybody does it. Everybody has some privilege.
My roommate and I have been working on an idea of the überprivilege. It is the following (in America, mind you)
Straight, white, cissexual, male, able-bodied, young, thin, christian, there may have been others but that's what I've got.
If you are a gay, african, transwoman, alter-abled, old, heavy, and muslim in america, you might have a case for not having any privilege. But if you have any of those privileges, be aware of them, and be aware that you are at risk for saying something stupid and offending someone you love. Just remember that you love them and can convey that, and you'll be fine, I expect.
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