I want to talk for a minute about expectations and how rarely they match up with reality.
I want to talk about self-confidence and the power of a self-defeating attitude.
I want to talk about how many of my eye-rolls I do as a result of people whose expectations are lowered by their self-defeating attitude.
So the other day I was at work and I had a newbie, this happens about once a week. This newbie was, as are the majority of my adult students, female. Society has been telling this woman from birth that she is weak and pathetic and can't do anything physically as well as a man (which I am, for all intents and purposes) and so when she sees me doing something that looks physically difficult, her assumption is that she is not going to be able to. I tell her "don't you see - it has nothing to do with strength, it is all about technique, you can be the strongest man in the world, and without technique, you can't do a fraction of the stuff I can" and I try and I try to impress upon her that it has to do with the way you are doing it, not the size of your biceps.
She tried to climb and couldn't do it. She said "I can't do this, I'm not strong enough" and for anyone who has EVER taken my class you know that "I can't" is an unacceptable phrase unless it is followed by "yet."
Her particular problem was that she was rushing through a technique because when she was in the air doing it, she had to support her weight by her arms alone, and because she spent her whole life hearing "you are weak" she believed it. So, naturally, I decided to prove her wrong. I told her to do a dead hang - and to hold on to the rope and pick up her feet. She held on for about 10 seconds before her arms gave out. For those of you who have never done dead hang, for a beginner, 10 seconds is a very very long time. She got this huge look of surprise in her eyes like she never expected to do what she just did, and almost didn't believe it.
Then she climbed the rope to the top. Twice.
She expected to be weak, and so she was, and when I proved to her that she was not, she nailed it on the first try.
In my years of martial arts, dance, aerial arts, fire arts and sports, I have realized exactly one thing: people are way stronger, way smarter, and WAY more powerful than we give ourselves credit for.
I cannot count the times I hear a student say "I can't do it" and then I say "tough, do it anyway" and then they do it. I also cannot count the times I have heard a student say "I can't do it" and I say "tough, do it anyway" and then they get halfway through and give up, not because their arms gave out (I know what arms giving out looks like - you don't land gracefully or talk while it is happening, arms giving out is the point of falling) but because they didn't think they could do it.
You need to have faith in yourself. You need to stand up to everyone who ever said you can't, and you need to get right up in there and say "Watch me"
You need to believe that things are within your physical abilities. Sometimes they may not be. There are many things that I cannot do. Yet. But that list gets smaller and smaller every day, and that is because I push myself to realize my potential.
We are so complacent and so willing to give up, and sometimes, even with a teacher saying "I know you can, you just have to try" that we are so afraid of... actually, I have no idea what people are afraid of.
And then there are the people who come to my class and complain about it hurting or it being hard. To which I have to spend a great deal of energy not to reply "FUCKING DUH!"
When you do something amazing, you should expect it to be difficult, and you should expect that you will struggle, but if you do not expect that you will succeed, you will not.
If you do not go into an activity or a test or any aspect of life saying "I can do this" I almost guarantee you that you will not.
So please. If you want to come to my class to bitch and moan and whine about how much it hurts and about how hard it is and about how I make it look so easy -
1) how do you think I got to this point?
2) shut the fuck up and let me teach someone who actually wants to learn this stuff
The woman I was talking about earlier - I hope she comes back, because I can see the walls starting to come down and that is awesome, that is how it has to happen. But I have another student who is taking my aerial class and
1) is afraid I am going to drop her in acro
2) has a low threshold for pain
3) cannot do a pull up
4) doesn't want to strength train in class
5) wants to learn more than just climbing, which she has yet to do successfully
for those of you who don't know much about what I do - 2, 3, 4, 5 pretty much is what aerial is. It is pain, it is doing pull-ups, it is strength training, and it is climbing. What did you think this class would be like?
So (finals words, I promise) the next time you decide to do an activity, I want you to ask yourselves some questions
1) what do I expect this class to be like, and on what basis am I basing that expectation
2) what are my fears/desires and how far am I willing to push those
3) what are my physical limits and how far am I willing to go to increase them
4) what do I expect from myself
If your answer to number four is vastly higher than your answers to 1-3 would allow, I would suggest revisiting your priorities and what you actually want. Are you willing to go through the learning process in order to know what you want to know? Because if you are not, don't waste your teachers' time - we have better things to do than listen to you talk about how hard this is and then refuse to do any exercises that would make it easier.
Showing posts with label learning. Show all posts
Showing posts with label learning. Show all posts
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Monday, February 27, 2012
Beauty of Failure
"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.
~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.
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?
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.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
New Year's Resolution
So, this past weekend I gave myself a haircut. This is it.
This was not a rash decision, not one I made lightly - I loved my hair very much. This is the shortest my hair has been in my memory. I did this for a reason, and it is a good reason, and I'd like to share it with you all.
Last year I made a very large new year's resolution. I made it about two weeks late, but it was on my mind, and with the help of an amazing human being, I found the courage to do what I needed to do: I changed my name. It was hard. It took time. It took struggle and alienated a few people, some temporarily, and some it has certainly altered my relationship to them forever. But at the end of the year, sitting with my friends on new years eve, spinning fire, drinking champagne - legally, for the first time in my life, I might add - playing music and doing acrobatics and hand-balancing (welcome to our parties) someone introduced me to a stranger. She was a fellow fire spinner working for my friend's fire troupe, azer, which is somewhat of a sister group from my acro group aeros. Anyway, introductions, and I was introduced as Fenix. This has become quite common, everyone calls me Fenix now over here with the rare slip up which is quickly corrected, and this was not different in any way. But I remembered that at the beginning of the year, I said that I would change my name, and that by the end of the year, there would be people in my life who didn't know that I was born under a different name. I succeeded in my goal, and this year I wanted to try to improve my life again, so I decided to cut my hair.
I also intend to give away a bunch of clothes wear, but really don't need, to get rid of a lot of the other crap in my life, and some crappy stuff in my mind and in my life. I am cutting my hair because it gets in the way with circus. I am getting to the end of my college career, and circus auditions are looming, and I want to be ready. I want to be compact. I want to be sleek and efficient and effective, and I resolve to make the appropriate changes in my life to make this so.
Friday, September 17, 2010
New Word: Lazanthetic
To begin, some definitions in preface, according to my dictionary
Lazy: averse or disinclined to work, activity, or exertion; indolent.
Apathetic: having or showing little or no emotion
My new word, while it is not a perfect blend of the two in spelling or in definition, serves its purpose well enough.
Laz·an·thet·ic
[laz-n-thet-ik] /leiz
nˈθɛtɪk/
-adjective
1. having or showing interest or emotion, but averse or disinclined to work towards the object of that interest
There is a fairly complicated logic behind why the spelling is what it is, and unless you think linguistics jokes are funny, you will simply give me the internet version of a blank stare, which I generally try to avoid.
Now, why have I invented this word? Because in my search through the dictionary, I cannot seem to find a word that describes the phenomenon that I have observed, and so I decided in my somewhat sleep-deprived state to invent such a word.
The above mentioned word was given the necessity to exist this morning. I had decided to pick up a new juggling/spinning tool called a double-sided meteor hammer (or "meteor" for short, because nobody uses a single sided one, and if they use something similar, they call it a rope dart when it comes to circus equipment - if you want more information, I can guarantee you that wikipedia can tell you everything you want to know about it) due to my stupid need to learn new things constantly. Anyway, the basic "need to know" of a meteor is that it is a ~4.5' rope, with two weights on each end. In the chinese version, which was a weapon, they were two heavy metal balls, that when spun into an opponents head... well... hurt. In circus, they can be two rubber balls or something similar for practice, or they can be two wicks for purposes of BURN! I don't have one of these, so I improvised by tying two sock poi together. The rope is a bit short, and the weights aren't heavy enough, and the poi are uneven, so I had to adjust for that, but the idea is there.
I posted this such news on Facebook, greatly abbreviated of course, followed by conclusion that learning meteor hammer is similar to learning poi; very frustrating, and you get hit in places you least expect - in this case, the spot on my head behind my right ear (note: if someone asks you what area of your body you want to get hit gently but repeatedly should you be forced into it, there are two areas not to tell them: groin and the place behind an ear), and this second post was met with some interesting comments, which will be edited for names and shortened to give you the highlights.
Now, I have been preaching this philosophy for years, and it has reached many ears, but not enough obviously, so I shall write a blog about it, and I shall send a link to it to anyone who says such things as Ms. Normal does (there is a joke waiting to be made about her name that I set up completely accidentally, and I am a little bit pleased with myself for it - you'll see it soon enough).
Before you can understand this philosophy of mine, lets call it the "If I can do it, so can you" philosophy, or Tao of Nike (Just Do It! get it?), I will explain to you how I got into the ground based circus arts (i.e. non-aerial/acrobatic, which have stories all to themselves).
When I was around 16 I believe, someone showed me a video of a man named Chris Murdoch doing something awesome called contact juggling, and I decided I wanted to do it, so I went and found some tutorials on ContactJuggling.org, and started learning with a grapefruit. I ruined a lot of grapefruit, but this was a non-issue, considering the grapefruit tree in my yard that produced more fruit than we knew what to do with. If you choose to learn with fruit before you spend money on supplies, use something that is readily available and very round, reasonably large, and heavy (i.e. not a lime). Anyway, I spend approximately three weeks learning the butterfly before I was confident in showing to my parents and friends (with the grapefruit) and decided I wanted to buy some practice balls so that I could stop ruining potential fruit juice. I would not even like to estimate the number of grapefruits met their demise falling off of the back of my hand.
Anyway, I decided to learn traditional juggling as well - it made sense. Now, as many jugglers will tell you, every time you add another ball, the difficulty (and number of drops) increases 10 fold, so when you juggler three balls as supposed to one, you get 100 drops proportionate. As someone who has learned to juggle, I agree with this statement. So I kept going, and kept dropping what were not objects resembling fruit (thank goodness) and I kept working at it. I chased my balls all over the yard, and I picked them up (until the greatest day ever: the day I learned kick ups - my back was quite happy with me that day) until I finally got it.
Finally, now that I have gotten past my basic history, I will get to my very blunt point: YOU THINK I WAS BORN THIS COORDINATED? HELL TO THE NO! I worked my ass off to be able to keep track of three balls at the same time, and to be able to change throws and mix combinations together. How did I manage to do it? I juggled. A lot. I'm talking the kind of a lot where normal parents would say "get off the computer" my mom would yell into the back yard "Stop juggling you idiot, you have to eat sometime" and I would yell back "BUT I'VE ALMOST GOT MILLS MESS!" which I didn't actually get until 3 months later in my father's living room, but that is the story of insane determination and dedication, which is another lesson I learned for juggling, and belongs in a completely different blog entry.
Two nights ago, I spun this stupid thing around and hit myself and dropped it and knocked shit over (every time worrying if my dad and Sheila had woken up, which they didn't... or if they did, they just rolled over and whispered "I wonder what crazy thing Connor is trying to learn now") and kept going. I would take a break every 20 minutes or so to get some water, or eat something, or watch an episode of some TV show I had downloaded. That's what purpose TV serves to me these days - relaxation in between episodes of training. And most of the time, I stretch while watching TV.
Final words, I promise.
When someone comes up to me and remarks about how coordinated I am, or how talented I am, or how amazingly badass and sexy I am when I roll that ball on my arm (ok, maybe not that last one - but the other two I do get from strangers) I just want to tell them that they could do, if they would just obey the Tao of Nike. If they would take a half hour out of every day to learn a new skill, and then to practice it 30 minutes every day instead of watching TV or something else mundane and useless, they would be able to do all that I could do. Anyone who says that they wish they would love to do what I can do, but just aren't talented enough or coordinated enough, they are lazanthetic. They want to, but not bad enough to put their mind to it, and actually work for something you might not succeed at the first time.
So Abby, your reaction to what I do is understandable - we live in a fairly lazanthetic society - nobody wants to fail, so many don't try. And those are the people looking wide-eyed at me on Saturday mornings putting money in my hat for something that they could do. You really are completely Normal - are you bored of that yet?
Lazy: averse or disinclined to work, activity, or exertion; indolent.
Apathetic: having or showing little or no emotion
My new word, while it is not a perfect blend of the two in spelling or in definition, serves its purpose well enough.
Laz·an·thet·ic
[laz-n-thet-ik] /leiz
nˈθɛtɪk/-adjective
1. having or showing interest or emotion, but averse or disinclined to work towards the object of that interest
There is a fairly complicated logic behind why the spelling is what it is, and unless you think linguistics jokes are funny, you will simply give me the internet version of a blank stare, which I generally try to avoid.
Now, why have I invented this word? Because in my search through the dictionary, I cannot seem to find a word that describes the phenomenon that I have observed, and so I decided in my somewhat sleep-deprived state to invent such a word.
The above mentioned word was given the necessity to exist this morning. I had decided to pick up a new juggling/spinning tool called a double-sided meteor hammer (or "meteor" for short, because nobody uses a single sided one, and if they use something similar, they call it a rope dart when it comes to circus equipment - if you want more information, I can guarantee you that wikipedia can tell you everything you want to know about it) due to my stupid need to learn new things constantly. Anyway, the basic "need to know" of a meteor is that it is a ~4.5' rope, with two weights on each end. In the chinese version, which was a weapon, they were two heavy metal balls, that when spun into an opponents head... well... hurt. In circus, they can be two rubber balls or something similar for practice, or they can be two wicks for purposes of BURN! I don't have one of these, so I improvised by tying two sock poi together. The rope is a bit short, and the weights aren't heavy enough, and the poi are uneven, so I had to adjust for that, but the idea is there.
I posted this such news on Facebook, greatly abbreviated of course, followed by conclusion that learning meteor hammer is similar to learning poi; very frustrating, and you get hit in places you least expect - in this case, the spot on my head behind my right ear (note: if someone asks you what area of your body you want to get hit gently but repeatedly should you be forced into it, there are two areas not to tell them: groin and the place behind an ear), and this second post was met with some interesting comments, which will be edited for names and shortened to give you the highlights.
Abby Normal: good luck, I would have knocked myself unconscious with one... do NOT have that type of coordination.... ~hugs~
Me: nah, can't knock yourself out - my meteors are beanbags. Anything is possible with enough training, though. I worked hard on this for 5 hours straight to get the tricks I know. Practice Practice Practice.
Abby Normal: this is why you're awesome, and I'm a complete nooblet! I need to visit one day and be seriously humbled...
Now, I have been preaching this philosophy for years, and it has reached many ears, but not enough obviously, so I shall write a blog about it, and I shall send a link to it to anyone who says such things as Ms. Normal does (there is a joke waiting to be made about her name that I set up completely accidentally, and I am a little bit pleased with myself for it - you'll see it soon enough).
Before you can understand this philosophy of mine, lets call it the "If I can do it, so can you" philosophy, or Tao of Nike (Just Do It! get it?), I will explain to you how I got into the ground based circus arts (i.e. non-aerial/acrobatic, which have stories all to themselves).
When I was around 16 I believe, someone showed me a video of a man named Chris Murdoch doing something awesome called contact juggling, and I decided I wanted to do it, so I went and found some tutorials on ContactJuggling.org, and started learning with a grapefruit. I ruined a lot of grapefruit, but this was a non-issue, considering the grapefruit tree in my yard that produced more fruit than we knew what to do with. If you choose to learn with fruit before you spend money on supplies, use something that is readily available and very round, reasonably large, and heavy (i.e. not a lime). Anyway, I spend approximately three weeks learning the butterfly before I was confident in showing to my parents and friends (with the grapefruit) and decided I wanted to buy some practice balls so that I could stop ruining potential fruit juice. I would not even like to estimate the number of grapefruits met their demise falling off of the back of my hand.
Anyway, I decided to learn traditional juggling as well - it made sense. Now, as many jugglers will tell you, every time you add another ball, the difficulty (and number of drops) increases 10 fold, so when you juggler three balls as supposed to one, you get 100 drops proportionate. As someone who has learned to juggle, I agree with this statement. So I kept going, and kept dropping what were not objects resembling fruit (thank goodness) and I kept working at it. I chased my balls all over the yard, and I picked them up (until the greatest day ever: the day I learned kick ups - my back was quite happy with me that day) until I finally got it.
Finally, now that I have gotten past my basic history, I will get to my very blunt point: YOU THINK I WAS BORN THIS COORDINATED? HELL TO THE NO! I worked my ass off to be able to keep track of three balls at the same time, and to be able to change throws and mix combinations together. How did I manage to do it? I juggled. A lot. I'm talking the kind of a lot where normal parents would say "get off the computer" my mom would yell into the back yard "Stop juggling you idiot, you have to eat sometime" and I would yell back "BUT I'VE ALMOST GOT MILLS MESS!" which I didn't actually get until 3 months later in my father's living room, but that is the story of insane determination and dedication, which is another lesson I learned for juggling, and belongs in a completely different blog entry.
Two nights ago, I spun this stupid thing around and hit myself and dropped it and knocked shit over (every time worrying if my dad and Sheila had woken up, which they didn't... or if they did, they just rolled over and whispered "I wonder what crazy thing Connor is trying to learn now") and kept going. I would take a break every 20 minutes or so to get some water, or eat something, or watch an episode of some TV show I had downloaded. That's what purpose TV serves to me these days - relaxation in between episodes of training. And most of the time, I stretch while watching TV.
Final words, I promise.
When someone comes up to me and remarks about how coordinated I am, or how talented I am, or how amazingly badass and sexy I am when I roll that ball on my arm (ok, maybe not that last one - but the other two I do get from strangers) I just want to tell them that they could do, if they would just obey the Tao of Nike. If they would take a half hour out of every day to learn a new skill, and then to practice it 30 minutes every day instead of watching TV or something else mundane and useless, they would be able to do all that I could do. Anyone who says that they wish they would love to do what I can do, but just aren't talented enough or coordinated enough, they are lazanthetic. They want to, but not bad enough to put their mind to it, and actually work for something you might not succeed at the first time.
So Abby, your reaction to what I do is understandable - we live in a fairly lazanthetic society - nobody wants to fail, so many don't try. And those are the people looking wide-eyed at me on Saturday mornings putting money in my hat for something that they could do. You really are completely Normal - are you bored of that yet?
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