Dreaming of Opportunity

In her essay, "What is the American Dream," writer Kimberly Amadeo poses the question, "Is the American Dream a myth?" Unfortunately, many economists and political scientists would say "yes." Amadeo herself cites sociologist Richard Wilkinson, who argues "if Americans want to live the American Dream, they should move to Denmark." Ouch. Apparently, Mr. Wilkinson no longer believes the American Dream exists. At least not in America. However, the question of whether the American Dream is reality or myth, does not really matter. What matters is the way it reverberates across time and place to give people hope. The most important definitions of the American Dream highlight the opportunity for all to live meaningful lives as thinkers and creators.

Recently, I was looking at the responses to npr's Your American Dreams. A number of them caught my attention, but here is one that got me thinking:

Historically, our faith in meritocracy has been a major difference between America and other countries. Regardless of who you are, who your parents are, or where you are from, you can succeed as long as you are willing to take advantage of opportunities and work. I realize that for too many people this has been more rhetoric than reality. But still. A dream based on entitlement? This sounds less like people expecting a chance and more like people expecting special treatment.

Then again, I wonder exactly what kind of entitlement this person is talking about. The word gets used in a number of contexts: sometimes it’s used as a criticism of government programs that people rely on, like social security or welfare. But it can also apply to people who have grown up with all the advantages. For sure there are people who go to great schools, take great vacations, and generally get what they want without ever worrying. People in this situation can end up with the attitude that they deserve all of these things simply for being them, and if other people do not have this wealth, it must be due to some deficiency. The problem with this latter definition is that it hinders a person’s ability to think beyond herself.

Can there even be an America if this becomes our underpinning? It would undermine our belief in opportunity. It would make people selfish and unwilling to entertain a shared purpose. It would erode our ability to empathize.
Right now, I am reading Death of a Salesman with students. A country based on entitlement would be like a country full of Howards, Willy Loman's self-absorbed boss. I could picture his contribution to the npr site looking something like this:

After all, when Willy comes to talk to him about his inability to support himself and his family, Howard is much more interested in his shiny new technology: the wire recorder. Willy needs Howard to hear him, but all Howard hears is his own wealth and security. Howard even suggests Willy buy one and "tell the maid to turn the radio on when Jack Benny comes on" (78). He is saying this to a desperate man willing to sell himself out for $50. Howard might be listening to the recording of his family, but he is tone-deaf. Earlier in the play, Linda, Willy's wife, implores her sons that "attention must be paid" (56), even though he can be belligerent, judgemental, and irrational. She demands empathy for her struggling husband. But Howard seems to lack the moral imagination to empathize with Willy. A dream based on entitlement, I fear, makes these types of interactions all the more likely. A dream based on entitlement undermines an individual's desire to grow and to celebrate the growth of others.

What about me, though? What would I say my American Dream entails? How about something like this:

Can meaningfulness be found through work? Sure. Can it be achieved through volunteering for a cause? Yes. Can it be nurtured through relationships with loved ones? Definitely. Can it be developed by living lives of curiosity, wonder, and creativity? Absolutely. How about a combination of all of these? This is the point, of course. Naturally, it is important to feel settled, safe, and provided for. But defining the Dream this way leaves untapped that which really makes us not just Americans, but humans: our desire to expand who we are and to"contribute a verse." 

Finally, part of our verse should be the opportunity to define the American Dream as we each see fit, and to leave space for others to define it as well. Hopefully we do not have to go to Denmark to make that a reality.

My Eyes Stretched Wide

I'm not a huge fan of the word "inspiration." Unfortunately, I feel like it has been co-opted by kitty poster market and self-help movement. When I hear the word "inspiring," I can't help but imagine

Still, I know that I do get inspired by ideas. I get inspired by artists. I get inspired by words and music and creators of all kinds.

For instance, when Walt Whitman says, "habit yourself to the dazzle of the light and every moment of your life," I feel that push to engage with my world. He inspires me to be active instead of passive. He inspires me to be interested in where I am right now. So here's to Whitman:

Henry David Thoreau also had an unrelenting desire to know the world firsthand. He neither tolerated nor excused passivity. And he did not concern himself with what others thought of his lifestyle. People criticized him for choosing to live at Walden; however, it made no difference to him. Instead, he faced life with the determination to "drive [it] into a corner." When I read this, I think, "how about me? Do I live vibrantly? Do I live vigorously?" So here's to Thoreau:

Both motivate me to observe, think, and create, even if that creating stays private. After all, it's not about changing the world. It's about changing myself. I guess I can be inspired. I know I should remember this:

They're Not Students. They're People.

Over the last few years, I have grown more and more disenchanted with the traditional research paper. Specifically, I felt like the questions students selected lacked emotional resonance. This dissatisfaction led me to experiment with different ways for students to generate questions that mattered. Then, not long ago, I read an interview with Brian Grazer in which the Hollywood producer talked about his use of curiosity conversations. Immediately, I saw the potential application and set out to have my students conduct their own curiosity conversations.

My idea was that through the conversations with a family member, friend, teacher, coach, or whomever, students would hear something that could become a springboard to research. Ultimately, I think the project was successful in this regard. Students ended up with questions about happiness, about curiosity and passion, about work, about leadership, about creativity.

However, as I listened to the conversations, I was struck by something deeper and more critical. I was reminded that my students are people.

Ok, so that sounds a bit ridiculous. After all, what else would my students be. But let me explain.

After 19 years of teaching, one thing remains certain: there is never a lack of things to do. The year starts fast and never really lets up. One problem with the frenetic pace is that sometimes I lose sight of who my kids are outside of class. I end up seeing them as students who appear in my room every other day at the predetermined time, work for 90 minutes, then move on. Where have they come from? Where do they go to? What fills their days and minds besides the novels I ask them to read and the questions I ask them to consider? I don't really know.

Listening to the conversations, though? Here they were. Their voices, removed from the classroom, filled the space in my house.  The surroundings certainly added to the intimacy. As my own family moved through the room where I listened, my students talked with their mothers, fathers, aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters, and friends. In this moment, it was not about teacher and student; instead it was one person listening in as other people shared funny stories, fears, philosophies, and memories. They were no longer names on a roster who I needed to guide through a curriculum.

 Listen from 1:00-2:30

In their easy back-and-forths I heard them laugh at family jokes, sound surprised by a parent's own plans and hopes, compliment a sibling or friend on some accomplishment. I heard them as loved and loving people, full of gratitude and understanding.

Listen from 0:00-1:30

Such a powerful reminder.

And one more important point regarding technology and citizenship. While our devices can often times stand in the way of genuine connection, this is a great example of the way that they can strengthen bonds and deepen our sense of each other's humanity. Too often digital citizenship gets framed as a conversation about privacy and branding. But this reduces the idea of citizenship in a ridiculous way. The conversation must be about how we use technology to practice the same skills that are important in our face-to-face relationships: thoughtfulness, kindness, creativity. This project showed me one way to bring this conversation into the classroom.

Teaching Failure: A Curiosity Conversation

The Hollywood producer, Brian Grazer, is known for his blockbuster movies, like Apollo 13, his blockbuster hair, and, more recently, his habit of having "curiosity conversations." While it is unlikely that I will duplicate either of the first two accomplishments, as soon as I heard about the last one, I knew that I had to try it.

As a teacher, it is critical that I remain a learner. After all, how can I ask my students to challenge themselves in new ways if I am unwilling to do the same. In the last year, my desire to learn, to be a student, has led me to woodblock printing and Kurt Webb.

Kurt teaches Ceramics and art at my school, Glenbrook South. While I have known Kurt since I started at GBS 19 years ago, it is through his generous mentorship in printing that I have acquired a deeper appreciation for who he is as a teacher, artist, and colleague. Our carving and printing sessions typically turn into rich discussions on creativity, education, and culture in general. He seemed perfect for my first attempt at a curiosity conversation. And he did not disappoint.

As you listen, you will see my comments. These are questions I found myself asking. I think any one of these questions could make for an interesting, thought-provoking bit of research. If you have a question of your own or a response to one of mine, feel free to leave it on the Soundcloud track or as a comment to this blog.



Thanks for reading and listening.